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johnwickb1tsch · 1 year ago

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you're the worst thing (i'm addicted to) Part 3

a john wick x Helen'sSister!Reader fic You are Helen's baby sister. When you meet John Wick at Helen's graveside, he invites you to dinner to celebrate her birthday. Set a few years after the first movie, 2-4 never happened. Use of y/n. Warnings: canon typical violence. Future reference to threat of noncon, (not John! because he's our assassin sweetiepie). Mourning. Smut. Grey areas. Questionable decisions. Sweetheart!John, BAMF!John Depressed!John - If you can handle the movie you should be fine here... PART 1 PART 2 PART 4

PART 3

The rest of dinner is pleasant, but not terribly emotionally eventful, comparatively. You survive by telling stories about Helen from when you were children, which John listens to with a wistful look in his eye. Maybe it's the wine, and the excellent food, but that sharp edge in his obsidian eyes softens, somehow. It is endearing, and your heart aches more than it should.

You are so full you try to decline dessert, but the special is a chocolate mousse and John insists you should split one, even if you only have a bite. You are not sure if the waiter brings one spoon on purpose, but you watch with fascination as John takes the utensil between his long fingers and scoops up a delectable little nibble.

When he offers it to you from across the table you think you might die. You have had far too much wine to not do exactly what you want to now, which is to accept the sweet morsel between your lips while meeting his eyes, wishing it was something else.

Your panties are drenched by the time the meal is through. You know that you are the worst, living vicariously through your older, better, sister, but just in that beautiful moment, its hard to care.

You can always hate yourself properly tomorrow.

John's hand finds a home at the small of your back as you are leaving. You know there are Feminist! reasons to hate when a man does that, but secretly it’s your kryptonite at the end of a long evening when there’s a crowd to navigate and you're tired and not really sure which way to go.

“Can I drive you home?” he asks, looking down that straight patrician nose at you. You could draw him from memory, you've studied his features so much tonight. You probably will, later, when you’re alone in your apartment with just the reminiscence of him.

“I live in Brooklyn,” you warn him.

He seems amused by this.

“I know.”

You pause for a moment at this. But then, it’s not so strange he knows. Helen could have mentioned it a hundred times.

“Okay.”

When the valet rumbles up in a sinister black American sports car, you lift an eyebrow.

“This is yours?”

“Did you think I would drive a Mercedes like some kind of asshole?”

The next car in the valet line is a Mercedes, and the stodgy old dude behind you who just exudes Old Money looks like he's received an extra stick inserted in his ass. You huff, your lips twisting as you are fighting a grin.

“Usually I would make a crack about a midlife crisis, but it really does suit you.” You'd heard tell of The Car, but had never actually gotten to see it.

“Kind of you to say.” It’s so deadpan it takes a moment for you to realize he’s teasing you.

He holds the door for you, and you can tell by the way he’s looking at you that he has not taken anything you've said seriously, or personally.

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

The car is kind of bare bones inside, but it is undeniably cool. The sound of the motor is a tactile experience—you feel it in your bones as you pull away and take off down the street. You feel it other places too, as you look over at John seamlessly working the gears. Perhaps you look at him longer than what is polite, thinking about how once Helen used to sit in this seat, and they would undoubtedly go on adventures upstate, her cameras in tow.

You close your eyes, because you are tired, and you are thinking, and for the umpteenth time you are fighting tears. As you go across the Brooklyn bridge you roll down the window. The cool air helps clear your head.

The lights of the city at night from up high are a treat. Usually you're taking the subway.

Only once you arrive at your building and John parks on the street do you realize you never really gave him any directions. But once again, you shrug it off.

There is a long moment of silence after he turns off the engine. The intimacy of an enclosed car at night, the weak light of the street barely intruding. “Do...you want to come up for a drink?” you ask, before you can really stop yourself.

Another long moment passes, as he looks at you in the shadows of the car, undoubtedly weighing the merits of this suggestion. His dark eyes glitter in the night, and your heart is in your throat, hoping he'll say yes.

“Sure.”

He is watchful as a hawk of the street as you make your way to the security door of your walkup. He frowns when you simply pull the door open, no working lock.

“How long has that been like that?”

“At least a year. Shall we say the landlord moves at his own pace?”

“Give me his number.”

You laugh. “Ok.”

“I’m serious.”

You pause to look at him, his face half in shadow. A chill runs down your spine, the hair lifting on your arms; he is so beautiful, but there is something dangerous about this man. Something only your deepest instincts left over from the days of life in caves picks up on. It is…intoxicating, because somehow you know you are not the one who needs fear him.

Your landlord, on the other hand…you might be getting that new lock sooner than later.

You start to climb the stairs. When your heel catches the edge of the old wooden runner he is there, steadying you with a hand on your waist. You lean into him without a thought. He's taken charge of you, for the evening at least, and you are more than happy with the arrangement.

For the evening, at least.

Your key sticks in the vintage lock, the way it always does. The more modern deadbolt goes quicker. And then you are inside your humble sanctuary, and you can tell John is a little shocked by the cacophony before him. Helen liked the ordered balance of modern design, but you are a maximalist at heart. The walls are covered in art, your own, and friends’, and collected pieces as well. There are little shelves filled with curios from your travels and thrift stores around the city. What isn't filled with art is taken up by plants, on the floor, and side tables you have rescued from the curb over the years, and hanging from the ceiling too.

“Come on,” you say, taking his arm to guide him through. It's not actually messy. Everything has its place, and is fairly clean. The space is just full. “Have a seat. What do you drink?”

He lowers himself onto your cerulean blue couch, still looking around. It’s almost as though he forces himself to look back up at you.

“Bourbon, if you've got it.”

“Sure.”

You slide off your coat, hanging it on a vintage brass coat rack from an old hotel long defunct.

“Ice?”

“A little.”

You make his drink, and a vodka tonic for yourself. You cross the room to join him. “Thanks,” he says as you hand him his glass.

“Sure.”

He is still surveying the room, and you are content to sit in companionable silence while he takes it all in, used to this reaction from newcomers.

“Did you make these?” he asks, looking to a cluster of small but highly detailed portrait paintings on the wall closest to you.

“Yes.”

They had taken months with a tiny 20/0 brush. You can be…obsessive, when a project grips you.

“Impressive.”

“Thanks.”

“May I...” He pauses, taking a deep draught, nearly finishing his drink in one go. “I overheard, this morning. About the piece, with Helen's photographs. I know Helen said you don't like people in your studio, but I was wondering...if I could see it.”

It dawns on you that this is the reason he agreed to come up. Possibly the reason he took you to dinner too. You are relieved, in a way, even if your heart aches a little for it.

Even though it’s true that you usually hate letting anyone into your studio, the place where you think and dream and create, the resting place for the unborn and half-finished creations of your imagination, you do not hesitate in your answer.

“Yes. Of course you can see it.”

You stand from the couch and hold out your hand to him without thinking, and he takes it. It’s as though you both know you're going to need a little extra emotional bolstering for the task ahead. You take him to the second bedroom that is your art studio. The smell of linseed oil and paint is heavy on first entry, though you are used to it.

Helen’s piece is still on your easel, the most recent thing you’ve finished. Usually you like to work small, but this canvas was five feet on both sides. It took you months to go through the boxes of photos she’d left you, then to lay it all out, deciding which photo went where according to value and structure. You could have done it easier with photoshop, but the personal quality of this project demanded completion by hand, from start to finish.

To complicate things more, you used a transfer technique to affix them to the canvas, giving the images a hazy dream-like quality. In between it all you had painted with miniscule strokes, miniature scenes and tiny embellishments, adding color, pumping up contrast and value. There were words she had said to you, short one sentence stories from your childhoods, and miniature daisies sprouting through the cracks. It was a galaxy of image and memory, each square foot containing a multitude. Yet when you stood back and unfocused your eyes, it was unmistakably her face looking back at you, larger than life, beautiful and filled with warmth.

The subject of the photos ranged from her arty pieces of architecture and landscapes from trips she’d taken, to more candid shots of family and friends. There were also several images of John, and it occurred to you that maybe you should have okayed that with him. You’d been working in the pitch of such a fever dream with the materials Helen had left you, it hadn’t even occurred to you at the time to reach out to ask. You’d made this piece in a damn near fugue state, swinging between working rapaciously and crying in a ball on the floor. There had been some catharsis in finally finishing it, but the process had damn near killed you.

“I hope it’s okay…that you’re in it,” you say as he stands before the canvas, his exacting gaze taking in every detail of every inch.

He has not let go of your hand; in fact, his grip has tightened almost painfully upon your fingers. You don’t think he realizes he’s even doing it, and you let him hurt you, the way you’re pretty sure you’re hurting him with this visceral reminder of the life of the woman he’d loved.

“I’m honored,” he says, his voice hoarse with emotion, his jaw clenched. “Such a full life she lived.”

“Only the good die young,” you answer, barely able to raise your volume above a whisper against the constriction in your throat. “It’s not fucking fair. All the horrible people in the world…and the fates took her.” Your voice cracks. Your eyes are burning, and you know you are on the brink of losing your shit again. He pulls you in against him, and there are no arguments this time about preserving his suit or your dignity. It’s too easy, to settle into the solid warmth of his chest. This man feels like he could be a bastion against all that is bad in the world; it is hard not to wish to just stay there beneath his chin forever.

“I would have traded, if given a choice,” you whisper into his collarbone. “In a heartbeat.”

“Me too,” he answers. “But she never would have allowed it. She loved you beyond measure.”

You give a tinny, sad little laugh—or maybe it’s a sob—for the tragedy of it all. You know that no one—no one—will ever love you the way Helen did. Will ever protect you, the way Helen did. You will wander the Earth for the rest of your days with a Helen-shaped hole in your heart that will never heal.

“I know she felt the same about you.” Minutely you lift your head to look up at him. “It’s easy to understand why.” You touch his face lightly, wiping away the tear that is hovering on the blade of his cheekbone with the side of your thumb. When you realize how casually you have invaded this man’s personal space, this man who has been so kind and tolerant of you, you try to draw away. But his hand covers yours on his cheek, the scruff of his beard surprisingly soft beneath your palm.

Your eyes meet, and you can see that John is drowning in the loneliness of so much loss. You reckon you look about the same; this day has left you feeling like you fed your heart through a meat grinder. Pushed to the brink, perhaps there is little wonder that when his face descends, you do nothing at all to fight it.

Yet he does not kiss you.

His lips hover above yours, and you think you might expire of longing, caught in the limbo of waiting. He brushes the tip of your nose with his. It is almost unbearably sweet. You feel like it’s a gesture between two people who have been in love for ages. A remembered gesture, a sweet habit left from a different relationship, a different woman you resemble, but can never really be.

You should stop this. You should back away before you both get hurt. But then his lips touch yours, and any small amount of resolve you might have worked up to do the right thing shatters.

At first it is the simplest press of lips; light, and sweet. He is shaking; or maybe it’s you who is? He rests his forehead against yours, savoring the moment, or trying to talk himself out of whatever it is he is about to do.

It’s his choice, you know.

You no longer possess the willpower to stop him either way, and your wicked heart rejoices when he leans in to kiss you again. Still, he is gentle with you, as though you are a thing in his grasp that might break.

He isn’t wrong about that, and yet as the kisses go on, you feel it in him when something snaps—the change is sudden, and visceral, and you cannot withstand the onslaught as he slants his mouth over yours. It is like being caught in a hurricane, grabbed up by his inexorable strength and the fury of his desire. You’re not really a small woman, but he maneuvers you like you weigh nothing at all, backing you into the wall.

You know it’s wrong, somewhere in the back of your head, but it feels so good. Or maybe, it could be right? Maybe it could be ok, to take comfort in this certain someone who also loved the person you lost. Doesn’t that balance, somehow?

You are full of shit, but you also don’t care.

All you know is that he’s hiked your leg over his hip as he’s kissing you, and you can feel the hard length of him pressing into your center, and you might collapse with the heady pleasure of it all.

You reach for his belt, but he catches your hands, panting as he presses his forehead against yours again. “Let me touch you?” His words are laced with such a mix of fragility and need that you know no matter what he asks you for tonight, you won’t say no.

A trembling sigh escapes you as you nod, and he kisses you again, hard and hungry and you’ve never surrendered so willingly to anyone before in your life. He’s running a hand up your thigh to the molten core of you, pushing your underwear aside to slide a single long finger inside your desire-slicked body, and you are lost.

Utterly wrecked, and irrevocably lost.

He toys with your swollen little clit with his thumb while he finger fucks you, his mouth on your neck and you are so close, before he picks you up all together like you weigh fucking nothing, and walks you to the couch in the other room. A vague thought enters the cloud of your sex-addled brain, a small sense of relief that he has removed you from Helen’s watchful gaze on the easel.

Any guilt you might feel vanishes with the thrill of him dropping you on the soft cushions, which is only topped by him dropping to his knees before you in that beautiful suit, (that beautiful suit!), and hooking his fingers in your panties, practically tearing them down your thighs.

There is a moment of eye contact, that burning dark stare that bores a hole straight to your soul, before he falls on you like he means to devour you whole and lick the bones clean. You’ve never felt anything like his furious mouth on you, the hard licks and soft kisses, the circling of his tongue around your clit, the relentless pleasure he mercilessly bestows until your back is arching and you cannot stop and you cannot wait, you are cumming in his mouth.

It’s the most magnificent thing you’ve ever felt, this fierce and fiery pleasure that is like fireworks inside your cunt and across your skin, and he keeps licking you slowly through the tremors and the aftershocks until you beg for mercy.

There is a moment of reverent quiet, while he rests his cheek on your thigh, your hands stroking his long dark hair. But when you try to reach for him, “Come up here,”—you are suddenly in his arms again, and he is carrying you to your bedroom, laying you down. You expect him to climb in with you, but with a flourish he covers you with the sheet, effectively trapping you, pressing a hard but reverent kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest, y/n.”

“Wait!” you plead as he is walking to the door, dizzy from the whiplash of this change of direction. You hate the desperation in your voice but at the moment you’re unable to care. “Where are you going?” Even you can hear how pathetic you sound.

He stops in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. His profile is half in shadow. He looks like a masterpiece by Carravagio, beautiful and terrible to behold. You want to paint him in this moment, almost as badly as you want to fuck him.

“I’m going home.” You cannot tell if that is regret in his voice, or pure exhaustion?

“Why?” You know you sound wretched, like the lost little girl you are inside.

“Good night, y/n.”

Then he is gone like a shadow, like he’d never been there at all. You barely even hear the front door snick shut. If it was not for the glorious soreness between your legs, maybe you would have thought it was all just a magnificent dark dream your twisted little imagination thought up.

You weren’t usually prone to such dramatic thoughts, but it was possible that John Wick had just ruined you for all other men, and you didn’t even get to see him naked.

PART 4>>

Part 1 Part 2

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #i'm so sorry i'm sorry for everything #john wick fic #john wick x you fic

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sirowsky-stories · 8 months ago

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Collision

Part 9

Description: Taking a gamble, Pero seeks out the people responsible for the threat to Niki's life, ready to end it, one way or another.

Warnings: Pero Tovar x OFC, no reader insert, Pero's pov, conspiracy, cursing, angst, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, secret identity, AU fic. TW: mentions of child-abuse and rape, as well as spousal abuse and coerced self-cutting. (Not committed by any of the main characters.) Rating: Mature/Explicit 18+ONLY Word Count: 6520 Series Masterlist

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay, but here is the final part of this series. I partly wish that I'd had more inspiration for a different ending to this, but I'm also not sure what that ending might've been. Anyway, thank you to anyone who toughed it out and comes to see how this ends! And to those of you who showered this story with your enthusiasm while it was active: You're all superheroes!

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It’s been three days since his run-in with the general’s assassin when he finally finds a way into the secure military base which the man himself operates from. All of Pero’s informants have been on constant high alert since he informed them of his need to gain access to Hayword, preferably quietly, but by any means necessary should it come to that. And they haven’t disappointed.

The Qwerty brothers are the ones who bring him the crucial intel, having managed to trick an off-duty officer into divulging a few tidbits of information during a drinking game the night before. If there’s one thing the superstar wannabes are good at, it’s holding their liquor. He had expected them to try and worm their way out of the deal, using this success as their bargaining chip, but surprisingly, they seem only excited to give him something useful. They even offer to act as his muscle, which would in no way benefit them if he fails. And come to think of it, not really if he should win either.

He turns them down, though. It’s easier to sneak in undetected if it’s just him. But he does consider it, because undisciplined though the men might be, they are formidable killers and completely unbothered by the status or power of whomever their target might be. They’d be handy in a close-quarter fight, no doubt. As it is, this mission requires finesse rather than brute force, so he heads to the compound alone.

It’s big. Departments of almost all branches of the US military operates from here, which is why Hayword has so many resources at his disposal. But Pero suspects that not many people here are aware of the real reason why such a decorated and high-profile officer hasn’t risen further in status yet. His accolades on paper more than suggests he should be eligible for promotion into the very highest ranks of the US Army, but here he is, commanding just one base in the District of Colombia.

They don’t know that this is as far as he will ever go, because of the practices he applies to achieve those victories. That he’s a precision tool being used where he can operate the most freely, while still under strict supervision. They have no idea the man is responsible for entire massacres, and that he considers such actions to be normal practice. To him, there is no such thing as an atrocity, so long as it’s committed in the name of protecting American citizens.

And the fact that only a handful of people within the highest seats of the government know this, is also precisely why killing the general won’t solve anything. It would just spark an even worse manhunt. Which means that Pero has to play this much more delicately. But he’s prepared himself as well as he possibly could have.

A precision strike, perfectly timed and executed is what it’ll take to succeed here tonight, but if all his assets have performed exactly as instructed, there’s every chance it could work. He chooses to focus on that, rather than the overwhelming odds he might fail, as he begins his perilous endeavor into the base. This is for Niki. So, even if he dies trying, it’s already worth it.

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“That’s it?”

“It’s all I can find. He heads for one of the neighboring buildings, by the looks of it, but I can’t see him beyond the subway cameras.”

“So, what? He’s just gone…?” Niki half screams, half sobs, because this is more than she can take right now.

“No, no, no, hey…” William counters softly, taken off guard by how strongly she reacts, rising to his feet and turning away from the screens to give her his full focus. “He would never leave you. You gotta know that.”

She does know that. In the safest and most tightly guarded part of her heart, she knows. But her mind falters, corroded by the terror she’s been living with for weeks now, and she closes her eyes against his words, unable to allow herself the hope.

“Something’s happened while he was out, either someone spotted him or he’s afraid that someone will, that’s the only reason he’d behave like this. Trying to throw someone off our scent. So, now more than ever, it’s imperative that we don’t screw up. Do you hear me, Niki?”

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Once inside the compound, Pero moves fast. He needs to locate the general before anyone clocks him as someone who doesn’t belong there, although the stolen uniform he’s wearing helps to make him stand out less. There are way too many people to try and sneak past, so he has to walk among them as though he belongs, knowing who to salute and how to behave like just another cog in the military machine.

Which is why he’s spent the past three days scouting the base from afar, learning it’s rhythm, routine, and discipline. He knows everything he needs to know, including that the rank indicated on his uniform gives him access to the building where Hayword mostly operates from. He gets in without problems, thanks to an immaculate fake ID badge with a built-in electronic signature for all locks on the premises, courtesy of the best forger in the world.

The general is already in there, he’s made sure to time it so that the man will be in his office, probably having lunch, when Pero gets to him. This is where routine and punctuality becomes a man’s enemy, because those things make him predictable, and the trespasser has spent enough time observing him to know that he never misses his lunch. Mrs. Hayword makes it for him, with outstanding precision.

On his way there, Pero encounters a nervous cadet, probably only given access to this building while she learns about the real-life application of military forces, because she doesn’t have the rank required to actually work in here. Ordinarily, that would require her to stay on the heels of a chaperone, or supervisor, but she’s all alone when he meets her in an otherwise empty corridor. Most all corridors are empty, since personnel here work primarily at desks and with computers, not requiring them to move around much within departments.

“Sir!” she salutes as she approaches him, and as soon as he’s saluted her in return, she launches into a nervous rant. “Sir, I’m so sorry, I don’t wanna be a bother and I’m sure you’re very busy, but I’ve lost my captain, and I don’t know what to do. Can you help me? If I screw this up, I won’t pass this month’s evaluation…”

He checks his watch. It’ll take him another two minutes to reach the general’s office and by his calculations, he has at least ten minutes before his mark might be finishing his meal. But he’s not keen on going off-script. Even the smallest deviation could be fatal to his mission.

“Do you know where you’re supposed to be right now, cadet?” he asks, hoping to ascertain if this might be a quick fix.

“Uh, I think we were heading for Logistics, but then I went to the bathroom and when I got out-…”

“Straight down this hall, take a left, then follow the corridor all the way to the end. Logistics is the last door on your right,” he cuts her off, then continues on his way.

“Oh, gosh, thank you so much, Major!” she chirps while she starts moving in the direction he’s indicated.

He has the entire building memorized from top to bottom, so simply giving directions was never gonna be an issue. But as he’s about to turn a corner, he hears the young woman say something, more to herself than anyone else, and her words manage to grind him to a halt.

“…I’m enough of a failure as it is.”

Precisely why hearing these words from this unknown woman (well, more like girl, really) affects him so profoundly in that moment, escapes his understanding at first. But as he turns back and sees her initial excitement at knowing where to go, fade with the understanding that she’ll likely get an earful once she gets there, and how her shoulders slump with the realization that she’s already failed, something stirs in his gut.

Some dormant paternal instinct, maybe, brought to the surface by even the frailest possibility that he might one day have to see his own child suffer with self-doubt and insecurity.

“Cadet,” he calls back softly, and she immediately stops, whirling around and adapting the correct pose for when an officer addresses her, with her hands tight to her sides and her feet close together. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen, sir.”

“Nineteen…” he repeats, tasting the word while his mind makes a quick jump back in time, recalling his own, less than excellent youth. “You’re in the military rather than a gang. You take pride in accomplishing a task, rather than expect the world to cater to you. You worry about how to be a good soldier, when you could’ve just as easily thrown your life away in any number of ways and for any sort of shallow reasons. But you’re here. Where everything is hard and challenging, testing yourself to the limits of your abilities, day after day.”

She grows teary-eyed as she listens, and he wonders if no one has ever seen or pointed out her strength before. Just as he wonders why he does now, and why this girl’s strength even matters to him.

“You’re not a failure, cadet.”

He can see her open her mouth to say something, but her throat is too tightly closed, so she nods instead, while a small but infinitely grateful smile adorns her lips, before she turns and sprints down the hall, no doubt worried about how late she already is. And perhaps eager to conceal her tears from someone she believes to be her superior.

Pero watches her leave, even though he’s on a schedule, and a strange feeling that this encounter was important to him, lingers in his body. Something warm but also frightening. Once she’s gone, he shakes his head a fraction and then resumes his course for the general’s office, checking his watch again on the way. Three minutes to spare.

Reaching the correct door, he pauses and listens, confirming someone’s actually in there, before he knocks just once and then steps in without waiting for an invitation. He only alerted the man to the presence of someone at his door to ensure that he’ll be looking this way as Tovar steps in, since he knows the man will immediately look him up and down in search of any visible weapons. And finding none, he’ll trick himself into a false sense of security, which is exactly where his enemy wants him. Oblivious to the real danger.

“Good day, general. My apologies for interrupting your lunch, sir, but I’m afraid I have a rather urgent matter to discuss,” he politely addresses the older man, who looks mostly annoyed, but also confounded.

“I’m sorry, do I know you, major?”

“No, sir.”

“Then what makes you think you can interrupt my lunch at all?”

“Urgency, as mentioned, sir. I’m afraid this can’t wait.”

“I don’t care how god damned urgent you think whatever this is might be, I don’t know you, which means you’re not part of my unit. So, you can either get out or get arrested,” the general barks, glaring at him now over his plate of roast beef and mashed potatoes.

“You’re correct, sir, I’m not part of your unit. In fact, I’m not a major or even listed in any military,” Pero confesses calmly, following the other man’s movements as he quickly rises from his chair and picks up his phone, probably to call the military police.

But his uninvited guest doesn’t flinch.

“Mary does make wonderful lunches for you. There’s such dedication to every detail, so much time spent on planning and preparation, one might think she’s a chef,” he says, layering every word with implication, and seeing the man freeze before hitting any button as he realizes the fraud before him isn’t harmless. “Even the plate is immaculately prepared. Not one drop of sauce in the wrong place, everything perfectly measured and laid out in exact proportions… almost as if she worries that getting one detail wrong would see her punished for her failure.”

Hayword is fuming by the time he finishes, but he keeps his feelings under control for the time being, undoubtedly hoping to learn more about his enemy. Although, the fact that he puts the phone down without having attempted any calls, reveals to his guest just how uncomfortable the man suddenly is, and how much power Pero has over him right now.

“Everyone here knows my wife; you could’ve asked around for that information. If you’re trying to intimidate me-…”

“She cuts herself in the evenings,” he clips the general off, and sees his quarry literally swallow whatever he’d been about to say. “You’ve taught her how to do it exactly right so that it’ll hurt without causing any real damage. Because you like to watch.”

The older man’s rage is undiminished, but his lips remain sealed, because he knows where this is going, and while he might not be ashamed of it, he damned well knows what happens if it gets out.

“Her pain is the only thing that arouses you, so you stand there at the edge of the bed, stroking yourself while you watch her cut repeatedly at your command, just so you can shove your dick down her throat and choke her half to death once she’s got you hard enough,” Pero continues, letting his disdain for the man be heard in every syllable now. “I’m curious, do you think your unit would have your back if they found out what happened to your first two wives?”

Hayword’s anger seems to dissipate now, because this is entirely unexpected. He’s been assured that no evidence remains of those women, or of the crimes he committed against them. But Tovar is no ordinary man. Secrets find him as if they had a mind and a will of their own.

“You’re bluffing…” the general tries, although his tone is all but convincing.

To prove that he isn’t, the trespasser produces an envelope from his jacket pocket, throwing it on the desk for the other man to retrieve. He’s not stupid enough to hand anything directly to the trained military officer with no conscience or morals, as that would practically be an invitation for the man to engage in physical combat.

Hayword picks it up and pulls the top open, sliding the one folded piece of paper out and taking a step back before he unfolds it, since looking at it requires him to take his eyes off his enemy, and he wants a little more space between them first, to give himself another second of reaction time, should Tovar decide to attack when his focus is elsewhere. But one look at the paper in his hands is enough to make him realize that his unwanted guest fights his battles in a different way.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks between tight jaws, as he refocuses on the man who stands in the middle of his office, with his arms hanging loosely down his sides, seeming as unbothered by this encounter as he would meeting a tree in the forest.

“My name is Mr. Hood,” he replies, and then pauses to let the general absorb that, clearly familiar with the infamous name, before he continues. “Ordinarily, I never work for anyone other than myself, but in this instance, I’ve made an exception. And her name is Nikita Morse.”

The older man doesn’t seem terribly surprised to hear that, but his mood shifts again because he’s well aware of how important that woman is right now, not just to the US military, and even government, but to the general himself. Failure to ascertain or assassinate this particular target wouldn’t go over well with his superiors. Best case scenario is that he merely loses his job.

“If you know anything about Morse, you know we can’t just leave her be,” he counters, but there isn’t much conviction behind his words anymore.

“And I’m here to inform you that if you don’t, I will not only ruin your life… I’ll come after everyone. Straight up the chain of command, all the way to the President himself,” Pero cautions, meaning every word.

“You’d never get close to anyone else. I’ve seen your face, we’ll be able to track your every move from now on, you won’t be able to take a shit without us hearing about it.”

“Oh, but that won’t be necessary. You see, my method has always been to use middle-hands for everything, and this is no different. My face won’t help you because I won’t be the one who delivers the damning evidence to the courts, or the spouses, or the children. I’ve been doing this for a long time, general. Long enough to know how to infiltrate your innermost circles and get your terrified wife to confess to exactly what you do to her, just like I know how colonel Peters doesn’t go to church for the sermons, or why the Chairman himself has no less than three hidden bank accounts in different parts of the world.”

Hayword merely swallows hard at that, but Tovar can see how he’s still looking for a way out, refusing to accept that this one man could ever do so much damage.

“So, you’re willing to die for this woman? Because you gotta know no matter what you might have on me, I can’t let you waltz out of here.”

“Well now, the problem isn’t really what I have on you, is it?” he taunts, knowing he’s still got the upper hand here and ready to play his cards as savagely as he possibly can.

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Tyler…” Pero says softly, and all color drains from the general’s face.

Because even he knows that out of all the messed up shit his family has going on, his oldest son takes the cake, by miles.

“Where was it you found him the first time? Arizona? With those poor boys he’d raped just bleeding out on the ground… And what did you do? You helped him cover it up. He killed two little kids, and you just swept it under the rug like it never happened. The second time was in Tennessee, if I’m not mis-…”

“Alright! You’ve made your god damned point!” the general all but roars as the truth gets to be too much for him. “Just… stop.”

But his unwanted guest isn’t one to let his marks off easy.

“I can’t do that. Unless you stop first. That’s the only way this ends, because even if I die, my informants will continue to do my bidding. They’ll have no choice. I’ve made sure of it.”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous the information your girl sits on is? How powerful that knowledge would be in the hands of our enemies?” Hayword presses, but his tone betrays nuances of desperation now.

“Yes, I do. But the problem here, general, is what you have failed to understand about all this, which is that when you turn on your own… the definition of an enemy suddenly becomes very broad. Right now, for instance, you’re my biggest enemy. The US government is my enemy. Not because of my own history or even your politics, but simply because you used and discarded some of the greatest scientific minds of this country, as if they were worthless. How am I supposed to trust anyone who treats their own assets that way?”

“No, you just blackmail your own fucking assets instead…”

“The difference being that I’ve never tried to hide it from them or gone back on my word to leave them alone if they do what I demand. I tell them from the start exactly what’s happening and how to avoid it escalating into something truly unpleasant, and if they play along, nothing bad happens to them. You told these people they were free to go live their lives, and then you hunted them down like cattle to the slaughter. I’m no saint, but at least I don’t hide behind an army so I can pretend to be the good guy.”

The general has no comeback for that, but he’s deeply unhappy with how this conversation is going, that much is evident from the ever-growing hopelessness in his eyes.

“Considering what I’ve just told about myself and my methods, I have only one more thing to ask you, sir,” Pero finally determines, holding the man’s gaze with pure steel in his own, as he delivers the last question. “Will you comply with my demand, and seize all pursuit, physical and digital, of the innocent woman we both know as Nikita Morse?”

“It’s not within my power to command.”

“Yes, it is. In fact, you are the only person with the power to make that command. If you weren’t, I’d be in someone else’s office right now.”

“I can’t risk the safety of this country-…”

“And losing the entire government, along with all trust from the American people, isn’t risking the safety of this country?” Tovar counters, letting his voice turn sharp and somewhat threatening to highlight the ridiculousness of the man’s reasoning.

The general falters at that, unable to think of a retort. He’s painted into a corner, held hostage on one side by the responsibilities he carries against his superiors, and on the other, by Pero’s ultimatum. Either way, he risks terrifying consequences both to himself and those around him, so the only questions which remains, is whether he values family or his work the highest.

Pero is ordinarily exceptional at reading people and their intentions, but on this occasion, he can’t determine what the general will decide. With how he treats his wife, one could be forgiven for thinking he doesn’t give a shit about her, but on the other hand, he’s gone to great lengths and sacrificed a lot in the name of protecting his son.

So, the trespasser waits. And the man deliberates.

Then…

“I have your word that my family affairs will not be publicized, in any forum, on any type of platform, physical or digital, if I agree to call off the search on Morse?”

“If you pick up that phone and make the call to the Chief, declaring her dead and dealt with, right now in front of my eyes, and give me every assurance that no further efforts will be spent, from any unit, military, private or otherwise, on further pursuing her, covertly or openly, then yes. I will disappear, and you will never see me again.”

“And what about the outside sources who already pursue her?”

“They’ll be dealt with; I can promise you that.”

The general takes one more moment to consider, and then makes his decision. He picks up the phone, and just to make sure that he knows he can’t trick his way out of this, Pero recites the number he needs to call, checking that the man does indeed punch in the correct digits and insisting that he put the phone on speaker. The call is brief and to the point, and when it’s over, the unwanted guest leaves the same way he walked in.

No alarms start blaring. No one tries to stop him. The general has kept his word. For now. But Tovar fully intends to keep monitoring him closely.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

Two months after he disappeared, Niki has all but stopped believing he’s ever coming back. She never stands by the curtained windows anymore, dreaming of stepping outside into the freedom and fresh air. She no longer pesters William for updates, desperate for any scrap of news about her lover. She persists. Her life is a prison-like routine of exercise, food, and sleep. Nothing more.

If not for the baby, she would’ve given up by now and taken her chances on the streets. But she can’t risk the life she carries. His child, and maybe all that’s left of him. Weeks ago, she made a choice to think of him as dead, and allow herself to grieve him, because otherwise she would’ve been buried under the endless torrent of uncertainty. So, to her mind, he’s gone, and he isn’t coming back.

In his place, Will does what he can, taking care of the housework and making sure that Niki follows her routines to stay healthy and give the baby the best conditions available. He stopped telling her about any leads he finds a while back, after noticing that it only ever upsets her when nothing comes of them. But she knows he still searches. That the hours spent in front of those screens aren’t merely to make sure he knows if someone picks up their trail, but also to look for any clue his missing friend might’ve left for him.

She worries about him. He’s a fragile person, prone to denial, but eventually he will have to accept that his searching is in vain, and when that happens, however long it might take for him to reach that point, it’s going to absolutely destroy him. But she suspects it’ll take him years to get there.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

Without Will’s help, it takes three times longer for Pero to find the people he needs to find next. But he can’t risk contacting them. Hayword has thus far stuck to his word, and so long as the three of them only have the Chinese element to worry about, he’s not gonna jeopardize their best chance of getting out of this in one piece, just because he misses Niki.

He does though. So fucking much. It’s impossible not to think about her, not to wonder if her belly has begun to swell, or worry that she’s had to come to terms with having lost the baby, without him there to grieve with her and comfort her. That’s the hardest part. Not knowing if she needs him right now.

But he’s close to finishing this, he’s finally found the person who’s after her. It took this long only because the woman was hiding behind a network of decoys, but once Pero figured it out, locating the actual culprit wasn’t very hard. What is going to be hard, though, is getting to her. She’s got layers upon layers of security, and lives in what’s essentially a fortress, forcing her enemy to keep his distance and observe.

Mr. Hood is not a man who enjoys violence, and although he is good at fighting when it’s required of him, he’s always preferred a more elegant solution. It generally creates less ripples on the water, less potential future complications. But this time, he may have no choice. His research into this woman has revealed no skeletons, probably not because there aren’t any, but more likely due to her exceptional skills at manipulation.

She runs her miniature empire not by instilling fear in her subjects, but by making them love her and thus desire nothing more than to protect her. To get to her, Pero is gonna need to get creative. He already knows that what she wants from the information Niki can provide, is to use it as leverage against the male dominance of her country’s leaders and decision makers. She wants a seat at the table. But what he can’t figure out is how to offer her something either better than the weapon’s research, or something scary enough to make her back off.

Everyone has something in their history they don’t want people to know. And this is always especially true of the rich. The problem is that her circle is so tight he can’t get to her from the outside. Can’t rummage through her secrets by coercing someone to feed them to him, because everyone who might know them live in the fortress with her. All equally inaccessible. Unless… he tries something really stupid.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

“Come on, Tovar,” William grumbles to himself, having once again checked all his online traps for signs of the missing member of their group, and come up dry. “Give me a damned crumb, will ya.”

It’s the middle of the night and Niki’s asleep, so he keeps his voice down, but this is how he spends most nights these days. Hunched over his keyboard, restlessly searching in ever more unlikely places. He’s got programs running non-stop, some designed to look for Pero’s physical description in coroners reports from all over the world, others to look for mentions of his alias in people’s voice mails, emails, text messages, and so on. He’s got dozens of these programs running every minute of every day.

Nothing pings anymore. After almost three months, there are no leads. Nikita gave up on him a while ago. But not because she doesn’t want him to come back or because she doesn’t believe in him. She gave up because hope hurts too much. She doesn’t have a choice now, but to focus her efforts on her baby, and she tries. But Will can see how it tortures her. That however much she might try and convince herself he’s dead and that she’s grieved him, the hope is still there.

That’s why Will hardly ever rests. Even if he can’t bring her partner back to her, he can at least try to give her closure, if indeed Pero has been lost. But unlike Niki, the veteran still leans on his hope. He still believes that the mysterious Mr. Hood is alive, working hard on keeping her safe. He’s got too much experience with the man to believe he could be bested even by enemies of this caliber.

And what drives his hope most of all, is actually the lack of findings. Because if Tovar had been killed, someone would’ve been yelling about it, somewhere in the world. A person like him doesn’t just vanish, not when so many people have reason to fear what he knows, and how that information might be distributed upon his demise. No, he’s still alive. Plotting, scheming, hunting. Wherever he is, he’s not done.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

It was far from a perfect plan, but as he now stands before his quarry, finally, after weeks of patiently waiting in a dungeon, he’s smiling internally at the fact that he’s about to win this war. Getting himself captured might’ve seemed counterintuitive, but it had been the only way to get himself inside the fortress, where he’d been able to start sowing seeds of doubt within the residents and learn more about his captor in the process.

And now he has the woman herself, Baozhai Gao, in front of him at last. He knows how to get her to back off, just like he knows that she’s actually not a villain. Her entire life has been spent in a silent war, a constant threat to her existence, and all she wants is just to have enough power that she doesn’t have to fight anymore. Something he can easily give her.

“I’m told you are responsible for the loss of my best team,” she says once he’s standing before her, tied up and on his knees, but otherwise unharmed.

He’s waited until today to disclose to his guards that he knows all about the house in the woods and the six operatives who never returned from there, since Gao clearly doesn’t know who he is by face alone.

“It was my house they tried to infiltrate in search of Miss Morse,” he admits, and sees her interest pique at the mention of Niki. “Unfortunately for them, I’m a very resourceful person. And someone who cares a great deal about the woman you seek.”

“You know where she is,” Gao hungrily replies, too enamored by learning this to realize that what he’s really saying is, he’s never going to help her find her quarry.

“I know a lot of things, Baozhai. Like what your brother did to you when you were twelve. How he tried to sell you so that your parents would only have him to dote on. I know about The Park and what you were made to do there, the things you had to do to free yourself, the things the ensuing guilt then made you do to yourself… I know you’ve had about the shittiest life anyone could imagine and that all you want is just to be free of men and our endless pursuit of power.”

She looks absolutely sick to hear him say this, and he understands that, because this woman has never shared her secrets with anyone. Not really. She carries her deepest burdens alone, specifically so that no one can use them against her. And now here’s this foreigner, this outsider, who somehow knows her innermost truths.

“How?” she challenges, and there’s both anger and desperation dripping from the one little word as it falls across her lips.

“That’s not as important as why.”

“It’s important to me.”

“Only because you fear that someone else might learn about it, but I can assure you, they won’t. I’m not here to hurt you, just to make a deal.”

“A deal? You mean blackmail me into leaving Nikita Morse alone.”

“No. I mean offer you something even more valuable, in exchange for her freedom,” he counters, deliberately using the word freedom instead of suggesting she should cooperate, since he knows what that word means to Gao.

She doesn’t respond verbally, but her eyes tell him to go on.

“I can provide you with damning information about half the world’s most influential people. From leaders and corporate whales to those you’ve never even heard of, but who’s networks of information are crucial to the balance of power within this world.”

“If you really have this kind of information, why not use it yourself?” she challenges, not ready to believe that anyone could have that level of power and just sit on it.

“Because I’ve never had any ambitions. All I’ve ever wanted is just for people to stop being cruel for the pettiest fucking reasons, but I could never find anyone who didn’t disappoint. And then I met Niki. And now all I want is just to be with her. To not have to run or hide for the rest of our lives. To find out if our baby made it-…”

He has to stop then, because the thought reminds him of how long he’s been away, and it tortures him to think of how Niki must hate him now. How she must’ve come to the conclusion that he’s either abandoned her completely, or that he’s dead. If the baby did make it, she’ll be halfway through the pregnancy by now, but unable to see a doctor or an OBGYN, unable to even leave the apartment. And he can imagine what something like that would do to a person like her.

Whether Gao believes him or not, she decides that the information he offers is too valuable to pass up and agrees to a deal. It takes him another two days to convince her of his truthfulness, however, which he does by offering up absolutely crushing evidence against one of her worst adversaries, but then she finally lets him go.

-=¤=-

Returning to New York is just as terrifying as it had been to leave. He has to be cautious, though. Not rush back to the apartment building, but instead take the time to make sure Hayword is still keeping his word. He makes his presence in the city known by walking around where dozens of different cameras will capture his face and body in detail, and then he makes himself disappear again, sticking to the shadows as he watches and waits.

After five days, he decides that if someone is still watching, he’ll risk it. He has to see her again, even if it means getting back on the run. He walks straight up to the front door of the building and steps inside, heading for the elevators and going to the correct floor without detours or any attempts at confusing anyone who might be tracking him.

The doors open and he walks out into the hallway, suddenly so scared that they won’t be there. That no one will answer when he knocks. He passes a painting and sees his reflection in the glass, abruptly concerned that he hasn’t dressed better, or combed his hair, or washed his hands since going to the bathroom that morning. As if any of it matters.

Instead of peepholes, there are little widescreen cameras at chest height in each apartment door, directly linked to a touchscreen inside, which automatically displays what the camera sees if there’s movement within its field of vision. So, they’ll know it’s him before they even open. If they’re still there.

His hand shakes as he raises it towards the flat surface before him, and he hesitates, taking a couple of trembling breaths before he taps on the door, so timidly that it barely makes a sound at first, and he has to coerce his hand to tap harder. His heart races while he waits, too loud in his own ears for him to hear if there are any sounds from in there. Any signs of movement. It takes so long.

Then the deadbolt turns. The handle slowly drops. The door begins to swing open.

His breath vanishes as she comes into view. Her eyes are wide but so bleak, her skin still too pale, her movements slow and cautious. But she’s fuller now. Thicker. And there’s a well-defined bump in between her hips.

All this time, he’s forced himself not to let it in. Not to allow the reality of the threat against them settle into his being, not to let his fears have any room because that would’ve broken him, and he couldn’t afford it. Those walls crumble at the sight of her, and he drops like a ton of bricks onto the threshold, collapsing to his hands and knees as the four months of terror catch up to him.

He feels her hands grip him, stronger now, but trembling just like his as she pulls him into her embrace. And he wants to hold her, but his arms won’t obey. Wants to kiss her but his body is suddenly so heavy. Somewhere to his right, he hears William ask if it’s over, and he manages to nod. Shortly after, sunlight streams into the apartment as the man has apparently pulled the curtains back. How dearly he must’ve longed to get to do that.

Then the sweetest voice he’s ever heard in all his life, whispers in his ear.

“I love you, Pero.”

She’d promised him she’d say it. When it was over.

“I… I love you… both,” he stammers through the tears, just as he’d promised.

THE END

-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-

Thank you for taking this journey with me!

@pedrostories @harriedandharassed

#pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x original female character #pero tovar x ofc #modern!pero #modern!au #the great wall fanfiction #the great wall au #the great wall modern au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #sirowsky stories

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acefiree · 11 months ago

Text

𝗯𝗮𝘆! 𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 | breath mint

Raphael ✷ Grayson ( 16+ ) MASTERLIST

RAMBLES: about to ramble so you can skip this if you want! this is a chapter from my fic I wrote following the timeline of the movies, and since I'm going through and editing the book, I wanted to share some of my favorite parts from the fic on my tumblr, so spoilers??

anyyywhoo I'm also posting chaps that I was going to trash, but instead, I decided to make them into reader inserts and age up the characters. so if you see that and connect the dots, you get a cookie :)

this is about my OC and April meeting the brothers and it will forever be in my heart bc I wrote this when I was sixteen, so there will be major cringe ahead.

also, the characters are their respective age in this to match the movie.

this is not a reader insert! and, keep in mind I WAS A FETUS writing this so my choice of faceclaim was silly and it was like 2017 when I wrote this.

*cough* sabrina carpenter *cough*

TO EXPECT: ocs, 2014! movie, SFW, and a potty mouth character, cringes of my very first fic.

disclaimer: i do NOT own tmnt or the movie scenes, just my ocs and what i write for them :)

I WAS VERY TEMPTED to punch myself in the face for being so damn stupid.

Who in their right mind leaves a flash on when trying to take a discrete photo?

Grayson fucking O'Neil apparently.

All four figures immediately froze, the flash lighting up the dark rooftop for only a second. It was painfully obvious I had taken a picture. My hands began to sweat as my heart started to speed up. I could hear the shadow figures whispering again, and this time I had a really good feeling it wasn't about their previous victory.

"What was that?"

"It's a camera flash."

"We know it's a camera flash."

"Who's behind the camera flash?"

There was a light shove that came from my leg, and I knew it was April probably wondering what was going on. But I didn't dare move.

Maybe if I just pretended that I wasn't here, they wouldn't see me?

"By my calculations, it's two girls,"

Two?! How can he see us both?!

"Now we gotta kill them..."

I nearly let go of the ladder at that, my stomach churning. Shit. Were they really going to kill us over a freaking picture? Who in the hell are these guys? American assassins?

"What?!"

"With kindness!"

"Give them some flowers, earn their trust."

"I got this."

"Raph, no, no, no! She has glasses!"

I had started to climb down now, but it didn't look like I was going anywhere – April was blocking my path.

I had to bite my lip to keep myself from shouting at her. I wondered if a little kick to the face would make her move. I thought about it for a good second, though I refrained from doing so – but damn, did I want to.

I opened my mouth, ready to tell her to move her ass, but a hard heavy chain was suddenly around my midsection. My eyes widened in shock, and I glanced down. "What—" with a harsh jerk and a very loud squeal from my lips, I was suddenly air-born.

My body hit the roof with a harsh thump, and I rolled, somehow shielding my head and camera at the same time. Pain shot up my arm when I landed on my wrist, the limb catching the brunt of my fall. When I finally had control over my own body again, I weakly sat up and clenched my teeth, holding my now throbbing wrist to my chest.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! That fucking hurt you asshole!" I shouted into the dark, my pain causing my temper to flare which controlled my tongue. I swear I could hear a giggle come from the dark.

I didn't give a damn who these guys were, they didn't have to yank me around like that. Unable to stop the aggravated huff that left my lips, I allowed my gaze to drop down to my camera as I checked it over, only to let out a relieved breath when I saw it was perfectly fine.

Yea, but freakin' my wrist isn't.

My eyes drifted back to my wrist as more annoyed grumbles came from my lips. A burning sensation came from my joint as I rotated the limb. I didn't think it was broken, but knew I it was going to bruise. I was so focused on my arm that I didn't notice when April climbed up the ladder and ran over to me. She was quick to notice how I was nursing my arm and she grabbed it tenderly, facing the inner part of my wrist up. She cringed at the flamed skin.

Damn. This was definitely going to start bruising soon. I could already see a red tint forming just below the junction of my thumb that would soon turn purple.

"Are you okay?"

I so badly wanted to snap back a sarcastic remark, but when my gaze locked with hers, my words seemed to leave me. I eased my arm away, staring up at her. I could see the fear in her eyes and that made the situation more real.

I was just pulled through the air like a fucking rag doll, of course I'm not okay!

But I didn't say that.

"I think so—"

A harsh thump, followed by a rough grunt, suddenly came from behind me and a shaky breath slipped through April's lips as she tilted her head back, her eyes growing when her gaze locked onto someone, or something, behind me.

By the look on April's face, I really didn't want to turn to see what made her suddenly go pale. Something in my gut told me not to turn around, to just fall out and play dead – I wanted to ask who was standing there so I didn't have to look.

Then I remembered this asshole was the one that just yanked me from the ladder. It only took two seconds of me mentally preparing myself before I found enough courage to turn around and give this man a piece of my mind on how he shouldn't yank little people around, just so he could feel superior.

I quickly turned, but came to a jerking stop when my nose brushed against a...knee. My eyes crossed as I stared at the limb, and the first thing I noticed was how...green...it was green?

Momentarily forgetting my previous anger and my throbbing wrist, I shuffled back on my butt, my head tilting up to see who the large ass knee belonged to. My eyes bugged like a Looney Tunes character as I assessed the figure towering over me.

Holy fucking shit.

Green eyes clashed with Grey as a man-like turtle glared down at me. I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn't seeing things. Upon seeing the look on my face, his lips curled back over his teeth into a snarl and I watched as his eyes scanned over my persons for a second, as if looking for something.

I instantly thought of my camera and instinctively grabbed it to my chest. That action had him narrowing his gaze on the device and that's when I knew what he wanted.

There were no words being said as me and my sister sat frozen in our spots. My sister looked about ready to piss herself, while I was trying my best to control my breathing and the pace of my heart. I suddenly felt warm and clammy and my heart was fluttering in an odd rhythm in my chest.

Time seemed non-existent as I took in this creature's appearance, noting the blood-red mask wrapped around the upper part of his head, kind of looking like a du-rag. The red fabric seemed like a good fashion choice, seeing that he had a very pissed-off look on his face at the moment. My gaze swept over the large turtle man, taking in all the gear he was wearing.

There was a thick leather strap stretched across, what I think was, his chest as it disappeared over the lip of his shell. And on his waist was an old-looking strap playing as a belt as it held up his odd-looking pants. My eyes then drifted to his arms, which were literally the size of my head. There was a red band tied around his bicep, stretching as the muscle moved.

This turtle man was ripped, and I honestly wanted to ask what type of steroids he took, because holy shit he was built like a miniature Hulk.

He rumbled lowly, his nostrils flaring as I snapped my eyes back to his own. I could tell he noticed my little observation, and he didn't hide the fact he didn't like it.

"Give me the camera,"

I had to pause at the sound of his voice, my face shifting gradually when I realized he could speak English. His voice was low and raspy like he was a heavy smoker and all his years of smoking finally caught up to him – I don't know what I was expecting the turtle man to sound like, but it definitely wasn't that.

April helped me stand, wrapping her arms around my waist protectively as we stared at him wide-eyed. I could feel her hands shaking against my waist, causing a spark of protectiveness to wash over me. There was a bead of sweat forming on my forehead as my knees wabbled.

"Ooh, look, he's doing his Batman voice," A voice snorted from behind the red-clad turtle, voice lowering to mock him.

"They're so hot, I can feel my shell tightening," A higher-pitched voice strained, prompting me to raise an eyebrow.

Excuse me?

I tried to shift my gaze around the red-clad turtle in front of me, wanting to see who was talking, but his big ass shell was blocking my view.

The red-banded turtle rolled his jaded eyes and turned to look back over his shoulder, or more like his shell. "We can hear you," He growled.

I tensed more as he turned back to us, his eyes locking me again in as he unsheathed something from both sides of his abdomen and I looked down.

Recognition flashed in my gaze as I stared at the familiar fork-like daggers.

So he was the one I saw that night? The shadow man? Holy shit! This is all starting to make sense—

I nearly jerked back when he placed one of the daggers under my chin, his jaw ticking as my breath quickened.

Jesus, what is his problem? My heart started to sporadically flutter faster as a twinge of fear settled in my stomach, afraid he might nick my skin with the sharp object.

He took a small step closer to me, having to slouch over drastically so he could get in my face. I could tell this was his way to intimidate me, and I would be lying if I said it wasn't working. His hot breath tickled my face, causing a light scrunch on my nose to form as I leaned back and tucked my chin toward my chest, promptly showing a double chin.

I was tempted to head-butt this turtle if he got any closer to me. Did this dude know anything about personal space? Because damn, he was so close, if I wanted to, I could boop him on the nose.

All witty remarks seemed to leave me as my brain was still trying to understand what I was seeing. So, panicking, I said the first thing that came to mind.

"Dude, you need a breath mint,"

As soon as the words left my mouth, Red's non-existent brows shot up in shock, as if my words had slapped him in the face. There was a loud boisterous laugh that came from behind him, which had the red turtle quickly recovering from his shock when he realized what I said.

He sharpened his harsh glare down at me, looking somewhat offended. "Wha—why I outta—" He lifted my chin higher with the dagger, "If you don't give me the camera, I'm gonna—"

"You're gonna what? Poke us to death with your little forks? Ooh, I'm shivering." I said before adding, "And by the way, you sound nothing like Batman – if anything, you sound constipated. Don't disrespect Bruce Wayne like that."

I don't know if it was the fall I took, or the amount of cake I ate tonight. But I found myself knocking my uninjured arm against his to move the dagger out of my space. I knew running my mouth was probably going to get me hurt, but this turtle was rude as hell. And that shit wasn't about to fly with me.

I could feel April's eyes glaring at me, most likely wishing I would shut up.

A loud snort came from behind the red turtle again, followed by a frenzy of giggles. If he was mad before, he was defiantly livid now. His face started to change, and if he could blush, I was certain his cheeks would be the color of his mask.

He cracked open his mouth to speak again, but a loud voice cut him off.

"Enough!" I stepped back and watched as another turtle flipped over us, landing on the other side of the rooftop – this one sporting a blue mask.

What's up with the multi-colored masks? Are they color-coded turtles or something? Was I missing the punch line?

My eyes flickered to the two weapons he gripped in his large hands tightly, and I instantly recognized them to be Katana's. He glanced down, his face stern as he assessed the three of us. I suddenly felt really small under his gaze, as if I were a child being scolded.

I watched as he twisted his wrists, expertly spinning his weapons before lifting his arms and sliding them onto the back of his shell, crossing them into a large 'X'.

"Back off, Raph." He ordered, looking over to the turtle in red.

So rude turt has a name? I thought before looking back at Blue.

The red turtle, Raph, let out an aggravated growl as he stepped back and moved away. "I only saw Batman once!—she made fun of my voice and said I needed a mint." He whispered the last part to himself, but I heard him perfectly.

"Ladies, hello. I apologize." The blue-clad turtle said coolly, effortlessly dropping from the edge in one step as he moved in front of us. "My colleague here forgot to say please – so would you please hand over the camera?"

At this point, he was standing but a few feet away. His eyes, which were the brightest blue I had ever seen, glanced down at the camera hanging from my neck before looking back up at my face, his mask shifting as he lifted a non-existent brow. This turtle seemed a lot calmer than the first, but that didn't make me trust him in the slightest.

The scenario good cop, bad cop coming to mind.

I instinctively grasped my sister's hand, tugging her closer to me as I backed away, refusing to give up my beloved camera in fear that they might smash it.

Blue started to take a few steps closer when he noticed us backing away, and I was quick to stop him by throwing my finger in his face. "Ah, Ah! No! You stay."

His face looked rather shocked for a moment at my boldness, and I was surprised when he actually came to a stop. He blinked a few times as if he couldn't believe I just told him to stay put like a dog. I took this as my chance to turn, pulling on April so we could find an escape—

My body jolted to a stop when we came face to face with another turtle – this one in orange.

Holy shit! Are they fucking multiplying?!

April gasped and sprung back, letting me go in the process. My arm flew up out of instinct, not expecting him to be so close. Just before I could make contact and hit him for being in my personal bubble, the Orange-clad turtle was quick to catch me by the wrist, shocking the literal hell out of me.

"Whoa, dudette! chill, it's just a mask. See? Don't freak out—right?" He used his other hand to take off his mask, dangling the fabric in my face with a boyish smile on his face.

One of my brows quirk of its own accord as I tensely glimpse at his massive hand that was wrapped around my small wrist, noting he only has three fucking fingers. He saw the look on my face, a sheepish grin morphing on his lips as he quickly let go.

At the rate my breathing was going, I began to feel a little lightheaded, my heart still fluttering in my chest as my legs became shakier. Oh no. I blinked a few times as the turtle in front of me became blurry. When I blinked again, the red turtle was suddenly standing by the orange one, both watching me with strange looks on their faces as I took a stumbling step back.

Shit, I don't feel good.

"Ray?" April's voice seemed far away, though I knew she was literally right behind me.

Just as I began to collapse, a pair of large hands caught me, and my body went limp.

"Oh, that went well."

"BREATHING STEADY. Blood pressure stabilizing." Someone said as a bright beam shined in my eyes.

My thoughts were jumbled the second I could make out multiple green faces hovering over me.

"Why are we still here playing doctor?" A deeper voice growled, sounding annoyed.

"Because, other than her injured wrist—which you caused—She might have a head injury."

"Uh, correction, she's a hot chick who may have a head injury. Which makes it our civic duty—"

"Would you knock it off."

I jerked away when a green hand was suddenly in my face, three fingers snapping. I blinked a few times as I squinted my eyes at the turtle. He was wearing a pair of goggles and was wearing a purple mask. When he noticed I was conscious enough, he quickly moved out of my space, allowing me to sit up.

"Tink, are you okay?"

I felt instant comfort from the nickname and glanced over to see my sister staring at me with concern, her hand lightly pressed against my knee. I nodded my eyes blinking a few more times as I noticed my vision was still impaired. My hands snap to my face, panic washing over me when I realize my glasses are gone.

The urge to pull a Velma and shout 'My glasses!' hit me as I started to look around for them. Before I could promptly start freaking the hell out, April tapped my shoulder and I felt instant relief when she pulled them out and placed them on my face for me. I gave her a grateful nod, adjusting them before I turned my attention to the four turtles watching us.

I can't believe I passed out.

I twisted my lips, rubbing my hurt wrist while my eyes drifted to each turtle, taking them in as I stood to my feet with the help of my sister.

"What are you?" April asked, also looking at them.

The blue-clad turtle glanced at the others before moving forward slightly. "Well, Miss, uh, we're ninjas." He leaned the top part of his body forward, resting his fist into the palm of his hand and bowing his head at us respectively.

I found myself actually wanting to smile at his actions.

The urge to smile quickly disappeared as soon as the red brute, who I remember being called Raph, spoke up, his eyes set in a hard glare as he stared at us "We're mutants."

The purple one, which I noticed was the tallest out of all of them, looked at us, his goggles gone and replaced with glasses. "Well, technically we're turtles."

"Oh, and we're teenagers! But we can still have...adult conversations." The Orange-clad turtle says, wiggling his fingers and winking at us.

I let out a sound of surprise, gaining their attention. "No, I am a teenager." I gestured to myself with both hands, my eyes wide as I looked back at them incredulously. "Like, honestly, you look like grown-ass men — I mean turtles..."

"You're a teenager?!" The orange banded one whispered in shocked wonder as he approached me, bending and placing his hands on his knees as he got in my face like he was analyzing a rare specimen. I took a step back and gave him a look as he muttered, "But...you're so tiny,"

I made a face at his words, "I'm not that short! I'm a pretty normal height for a girl..."

The purple-wielding turtle let out an amused snort, prompting us to look at him now. "Actually, you seem to be around 5'2 and the normal height for a human female is—"

"Can we please get back on topic guys? We don't have time to share facts and height charts." Blue interrupted us, making me turn to him with a lifted brow.

I promise, I tried to stop my eyes from rolling, I really did, but they had a mind of their own. "Bossy ass," I muttered under my breath.

His eyes snapped to me, and I instantly knew he heard what I said, causing me to shoot him an innocent smile in return.

April, who was still hung up on their existence stepped forward to butt in, "Wait, So, you're—ninja, mutant, turtle, teenagers?" she questioned, sounding slightly ridiculous with how she worded it.

My lips pursed and I shook my head, "That sounds silly—" I glanced at April disappointed, "Why not Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? It has a better ring to it."

"Agreed," The one in purple said, causing me to look back at him with a smile.

I glanced at all of them again, curiosity shining in my eyes as I began to wonder how this even happened. It's not every day you run into humanoid turtles who can speak perfect English. There has to be more to this.

My eyes stopped on Raph, catching the glare he was giving as he watched me look around at them. I lifted a brow, and his expression only grew more annoyed. "They're lookin' at us like we're freaks." He suddenly spat, pointing his fork dagger at me.

Seriously, what is this turtle's malfunction? He seemed to be the only one with a thorn in his side and it was starting to piss me off.

"I bet that's why you took our picture, wasn't it? To show your friends" He accused as he pointed at me again, a smug look mixing with his irritated one. "That is, if ya' have friends."

My mouth dropped in shock at his dig at my social life. Who did this turtle think he was? He was being such an ass, and for what?

"Look here 'Mr.Batman'—" I decreased my voice into a mocking tone, trying to mimic the baritone voice he did earlier, "When it comes to disrespect, I'm usually open-minded, but you've been a real ass tonight, so I'm about to be open-handed and smack the shit outta you!" I sass back before somewhat shouting, "Don't play with me!"

Crickets. There's a distinct pause as all four turtles look comically baffled at my little outburst. They were probably wondering how much damage a small girl like me could do to a six-foot mutant turtle, but I swear if he said another rude ass thing to me, they will all find out.

Suddenly, a very boyish laugh filled the tense atmosphere and I swung my gaze over to the orange-clad turtle, watching as he clutched his stomach from laughing so hard.

"Dudes I think I just fell in love – Raph she just put you in your place bro!"

The red-banded turtle shot the other one a sharp glare, his lip curling as he yanked his intense gaze back in my direction. I took a tiny step back as the hothead dropped down from the ledge he was perched on, his green eyes burning into my own. I noticed his scarred lip quirk into a smirk when he saw me step back. Something in his hand caught my attention, so I looked down and froze upon seeing my camera dangling in his grasp.

"Looking for this?" He taunted, his smirk growing as he observed the shocked expression on my face.

I quickly patted down my body, as if I wasn't looking at my camera. What the hell?! My mouth formed a tight line as he got closer to me, my head having to tilt back so I could stare him directly in the eyes.

Don't show fear, be the bad bitch you know you are.

"I swear, if you break my camera, I'll monkey jump your ass!"

He gave me a challenging look in return, "Bring it, Trouble," His gaze fell from my face and traveled over my body, sizing me up. "I can take ya."

I ignored the nickname as the annoyance I felt grew, "I don't know the anatomy of a mutant turtle, but I'm so close to kicking you in the balls if you don't back the fuck up!" I growled, jabbing a finger in his shell-covered chest.

It's been I while since I've gotten this upset, usually I was chill. But this turtle seemed like he really enjoyed pressing my buttons.

For a moment I could have sworn fear flashed in his eyes when I mentioned kicking him down under. And he seemed to close his stance a little. But before any more words could be shared between us, blue stepped in, moving Raph back.

"How many times do I have to tell you? We don't break things, we fix them. Donnie already wiped the camera, genius – Problem solved, moving on." The blue-clad turtle spoke, his eyes hardening on Raph who now seemed embarrassed by being scolded.

I snapped my head toward the purple turtle, assuming he was the one who messed with my stuff. "You did what?!" My voice squeaked, causing the purple banded turtle to jump and his glasses-covered eyes to round. "Please tell me you didn't wipe everything!"

My whole life was on that damn thing! He better not have erased the memory, I only took one picture!

The purple, Donnie, looked extremely uncomfortable and slightly panicked. He opened his mouth to speak, but the big brute cut him off before he could defend his actions.

"And who put you in charge?" Red rumbled, anger sparking in his green eyes as he turned to face blue.

Now Blue seemed pissed, his chest bumping into Raph's as he matched his aggression. "You know who did." His voice lowers and I find myself taking a small step back.

I had a feeling a fight was about to break out, and I didn't want to be caught in the middle of that.

These guys are really moody.

"Ooh, tension! It's been like thirty whole minutes since you guys had this argument." The orange one butted in with a smile on his face, not seeming fazed by the other turtle's aggressiveness.

"Leonardo, if we want to make it home before Master, we gotta hustle," Donnie spoke up, glancing at his wrist which had a cool-looking watch on it.

For a moment I pause, a sense of familiarity washing over my mind as I thought over that name.

"Leonardo?" I heard April whisper from beside me, causing me to look over at her with a questioning look.

Has she heard of that name before too?

The blue one, Leonardo, turned to me. I kept quiet as he stepped closer and held out my camera for me to take. "Do not say a word about this to anyone," he lowered himself to my height, and even though he was bent over, I still had to look up. "If you do, we will find you." His eyes swayed between me and April for a second, "April and Grayson O'Neil."

He was back to standing his full height; A serious superior look casting in his blue eyes. He turned his head to look at Raph, narrowing his eyes slightly. "We're on the move, Raphael."

"Raphael...?" I murmured this time, my brows pinched together. Where have I heard these damn names before?

A deep rumble followed after I said the name, which caused me to look up. It was Raphael. When we locked eyes, I could see his shoulders tense as he shot me a displeased look. I stared at him for a long moment, trying to read this strange being. He stared back and I could only assume he was doing the same with me.

I could tell he was the most guarded out of the other three, and I was quick to pick up on the fact he seemed insecure about what others thought about his appearance. I would have to remember not to stare if I wanted to stay on his good side. That is, if he even had one.

Like a splash of cold water to the face; Raphael moved away from us, before squaring his shoulders and placing his little bitty weapons back in their holster. He locked eyes with me once more and shot me a pointed glare, the toothpick in his mouth shifting.

Yep, this guy really doesn't like me...Wait, where did the toothpick come from?

"Yeahhh, we'll find you, O'Neil." The orange started doing weird hand gestures as he gradually backed away.

I quirked a brow at how odd and disturbing it sounded.

I jumped a little as he came back quickly, an awkward smile on his face, "I'm sorry, that came across super creepy, okay?" He chuckled nervously, "But we will find you though." He pointed at us, shooting a small wink.

He's weird. I giggled softly.

An award-winning smile broke out on his face as he heard my laugh, looking like a child in a candy shop. He waved me goodbye as he ran after the others who had begun to leave. Leonardo shot him a stern look when he finally caught up, muttering something to him under his breath.

April rushed after them, her phone now out and raised to snap more pictures as they disappeared into the night.

I rolled my eyes before joining her at the edge of the building, smirking to myself.

"It was like fire brah, did you see me back there? She's totally into me, I made her laugh!"

"Shut it, Mikey." I recognized that voice to be Raphaels.

I glanced over at April, my smile spreading somewhat in excitement.

I knew after tonight, that neither of our lives were ever going to be the same.

MASTERLIST

#bayverse tmnt #fanfic writing #bayverse raphael #teenage mutant ninja turtles #bayverse leo #bayverse donnie #bayverse mikey #tmnt bayverse #bayverse raph

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hollymbryan · 8 months ago

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Blog Tour: Top 5 Reasons to Read ROYAL SCANDAL by Aimée Carter!

Welcome to Book-Keeping and my stop on the TBR and Beyond Tours blog tour for Royal Scandal by Aimée Carter, the follow-up to last year's Royal Blood! I love this series, and can't wait to tell you all about it, including my top 5 reasons to read!

About the Book

title: Royal Scandal author: Aimée Carter publisher: Delacorte release date: 26 March 2024

The second book in the Royal Blood series about an American girl who threatens the royal family by exposing their darkest scandals—even as they get more sinister. American girl turned monarchy nightmare, Evan Bright, has gotten used to the press about her but the media attention has only seemed to get worse. From desperate clickbait articles about her and the President’s son to Royal Record headlines pitting her against Princess Maisie, it seems everyone is dying for Evan to return back to America for good. Meanwhile Evan is receiving mysterious threats about her real story being reveiled in a tell-all biography. When more information is leaked about Evan, she fears she will always be Britain’s media villain. But the threats escalate when there is an attempted assassination with no suspects…and Evan believes the person is in the palace’s walls. They say what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger…but what if it’s the royal family who wants you dead?

Add to Goodreads: Royal Scandal Purchase the Book: Amazon | B&N | Bookshop

About the Author

Aimée Carter is a graduate of the University of Michigan and the award-winning author of more than a dozen books, including The Goddess Test series, the Blackcoat Rebellion series, and the Simon Thorn series for middle grade readers, now a #1 international bestselling series under the title Animox and Die Erben der Animox. Her newest middle grade book, Curse of the Phoenix, will be released in June from Margaret K. McElderry Books.

Connect with Aimée: Website | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Facebook

Top 5 Reasons to Read

While this is the sequel to Royal Blood, you could conceivably read it on its own since enough backstory is inserted that you could follow along, although personally I would definitely recommend reading them in order.

It's an intriguing alternate history! The series imagines an alternate history of the monarchy in Britain, in which Prince Edward, Duke of Windsor, had *not* abdicated the throne to marry American socialite Wallis Simpson, and thus became King Edward VIII; his great-grandson, Alexander II, now sits on the throne.

It's about royals! Let's admit it, we in America are fascinated by the British monarchy, whether it be adoration or bemusement or even downright disdain. But can we imagine what it must *truly* be like to be a royal? As Evangeline says of Mary, "She has all the privilege and wealth and status anyone could ever ask for, but what's the point if it's really just a gilded cage?"

It's full of scandals! Evangeline is the previously-secret illegitimate daughter of King Alexander and the love of his life, an American woman. She's half-sister to Princess Mary (Maisie), and they were in fact born on the same day! Of course the revelation of Evangeline's existence and her presence at court causes absolute chaos in Britain, and scandal after scandal ensues.

It's packed with family drama! The Queen Mother, Constance, is absolutely awful, cold and hateful, to Evan; Alexander's wife, Queen Helene, isn't much better; Evan and Maisie have had to work out their prickly relationship; Helene is having an affair with Alexander's brother, Nicholas, the Duke of York; and of course there's the dastardly snake Cousin Ben, Nicholas' son with his first wife. Such drama and treachery!

It's got the first love we adore so much in YA! Evan and Kit are absolutely adorable together, but then there's also the gorgeous son of the American president, Thaddeus Park, who may throw a spanner in the works. There's also Maisie and her best friend turned girlfriend, Gia, and their struggles as Maisie tries to come to terms with whether her desire to be with Gia and be openly gay outweighs her duties as a royal and ability to inherit the throne.

There are so many more great reasons to read this one, and I'd encourage anyone who loves YA and/or enjoys reading about royalty to pick this series up! I was blown away last year by just how good Royal Blood was, and Royal Scandal is an incredible sequel!

Rating: 5 stars!

**Disclosure: I received a copy of this book from the publisher for purposes of this blog tour. This post is voluntary on my part and reflects my honest rating and review.

Make sure to check out the Instagram tour as well! You can find my post here, and the full schedule is here.

#royal blood #royal scandal #aimee carter #delacorte press #yalit #ya lit #ya literature #royalty #british royal family #alternate history #young adult #bookstagram #newrelease #new release #blog tour #new releases #top 5 reasons to read

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statticscribbles · 3 years ago

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Kidnap

Summary: Mitch Rapp/Reader Reader is Kidnapped and Mitch find a way to get her back

”Y/N? You awake?” You open your eyes to see Mitch hovering over you, you sit up a little but before you can there’s just red clouding your vision.

“What’s this?”

“Roses, it’s our three year anniversary so I wanted to do something special for you!”

“Mitch, that’s not for three more days!”

“Exactly, so I’m going to spoil you silly for the next three days!”

“It’s only three years, that’s not as big as the first year or the fifth one!” You try to counter but he just grins at you.

You stomach flips, you know this isn’t part of Mitch’s anniversary plan and you wonder just what’s going to happen. The fabric around your face is scratchy and you wonder if it’ll leave red marks on your face when they take it off. You don’t think about it never coming off, about Mitch never finding you.

They’re talking, voices low and unintelligible but you’re certain that’s because they’re in a different room, not because they’ve actually hurt you. The group, you assume it’s more than two people with how many different voices you can hear; are surprisingly gentle with you, you wonder if someone has explained who you are or if they just needed another hostage.

“She hangs out with him; they’re at least friends.” Your stomach sinks lower, you realize they’re trying to bait Mitch but they clearly haven’t done their research or they would have taken one of his actual friends; not his girlfriend.

Time always passes differently when it’s dark and being blindfolded is no exception. It doesn’t feel like days, maybe just a few hours before Mitch is pulling off the blind fold his hands shaking as you try to smile at him.

“I’m okay.” You assure and he narrows his eyes before practically picking you up and carrying you over to the ambulance; he rides with you the entire time, refusing to let go of your hand until one of the other agents physically pulls him away from you so the nurses can check you over.

“It wasn’t even a full day Mitch, she’s fine, they didn’t get the chance to do anything. Just go home and spend time with her.”

“Y/N you okay babe?” You’re pretty sure Mitch has asked that same question for the past hour every three minutes.

“I’m alright, better that you’re here.” You press your face into his shoulder and he keeps his arms tight around you.

“Sorry for ruining whatever your anniversary plans were.” You mumble and he frowns a little, nudging your face so you look him in the eyes.

“All I want is to spend time with you, no matter what we get to do, I just want to spend it with you.”

You're still nervous about leaving the house. Mitch had insisted he would take care of everything for your three year anniversary, you hadn’t ever thought you’d be scared of leaving the house but here you were nervous that Mitch was going to drag you to some fancy restaurant.

“Okay just close your eyes.” He grins a little as you close them and places a kiss on your forehead.

”Okay spin three times.”

“Will I wake up in Oz?” You laugh and can feel him smiling into your hair.

“Somewhere better.”

“Anywhere with you is better.” You grin a little when he walks forward guiding you, one hand wrapped around your waist.

“Okay open.” You’re already smiling, but you hide your head a little when you realize just what Mitch has done, he’s set up a recreation of the anniversary date he always takes you on. Normally you’d be going out to the restaurant where you first met and ordering the same meal you’d first gotten.

“Listen Y/N; this might not be the place I expected to be on our three year anniversary, but it’s with you, so that’s really all that matters.”

“Me getting taken must’ve shook you up, huh.” You try not to let your voice shake and Mitch just nods.

“Yeah it did, really freaked me out.” He sighs pulling you back into his chest and pressing his forehead against yours.

Support My Writing?

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp imagine #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp x y/n #mitch rapp x you #american assassin #american assassin reader insert #american assassin imagine #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o brien x reader #dylan o brien reader insert #dylan o brien #written #stattic

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harringtonstilinski · 3 years ago

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Jealous? - Mitch Rapp

Author: @stilinskiparker Characters: Mitch Rapp x Reader Word Count: 1,760 Warnings: soft mitch?, idk we’re pretty standard here; fluff, jealousy, innuendo in the middle-ish and at the end..., got some implied smut near the middle, nothing too outrageous. Requested: “Hi lovely! I was wondering if you’d do “OH! You’re jealous” with Mitch Rapp? Love your writing!” @kellysashcroft A/N: Hi, friends! It’s ya’girl, back with requests!... that are now closed. Anyways, I really hope y’all like this. It’s my first Mitch piece, so pls go easy on me, lol. It’s kinda short, but like I said, it’s my first Mitch piece and i kinda don’t know how to write him ‘cause i never have before this piece. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

You know what’s awesome about getting dressed up for a night out? Getting partially dressed up for a night out. My girlfriends called me and asked if I wanted to go out for dinner, to which I obviously said yes to. I needed time with my girls, I missed them.

The boyfriend was out on work related stuff, so I was stuck home alone until he got back. He’s a CIA Operative and his name is Mitch Rapp. Very dangerous job he had. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to patch him up because he’s too stubborn to get patched up by the medics he works with.

Tonight’s outfit choice was casual, but classy. A simple black dress with a pair of Converse and a blue denim jacket. Hair was down and straight, and makeup was natural but classy. Something Mitch, I’m sure, would approve of. But who needs a man's approval for feeling good, amiright?

Anyway, the girls and I were headed to this beautiful restaurant in the middle of town. Outdoor seating, string lights up above our heads, live music heard from down the street. It was somewhere you take someone for a nice date or even a girl’s night, like what we were doing!

Gossip here and there about our guys and girl, what we’ve been up to, what we hope for the future, all that jazz. Now, if you’re wondering if the girls know about Mitch, don’t worry. They do. That’s how I met them! Well, a couple of them. The others I knew from college.

“Oh, my god, did you hear about Aubrey?” my best friend, Sophie, said.

A gasp was heard from Charlotte before she said, “No. What? What’s the gossip?!”

Looking around at the four of us, Sophie smiled and said, “I heard… she’s trying to go after one of our men.”

Gasps. That’s all you could hear from us before we all started talking at the same time.

“What?”

“Who?

“Why would she do that?”

“Better not be my Tommy.”

Putting her hands on the table and chuckling, Sophie said, “Ladies! I’ll tell you if you’ll all stop talking at the same time.”

Since we all wanted to know who Aubrey was trying to go after, we all shut our faces real quick. Sophie looked at every single one of us before landing her eyes… on me.

I stuttered for a second before finally finding my words. “Mitch? My Mitch?”

She nodded her head with a smirk on her face. “Yup. The one and only Mitch Rapp.”

“Why Mitch?!” I shrieked. The girls tried to quiet me down, but I swatted at them to get to be quiet. “No, no, no. I wanna know. Why is this bitch trying to get my Mitch?”

“She said she found him to be handsome, you annoying and she can probably please him in ways that you can’t.”

Another wave of gasps and a lean on the table from me later, I looked Sophie in the eyes and said, “Tell me everything.”

~~~

When I got home that night, I never expected to be woken up by the sound of a punching bag and the door to mine and Mitch’s shared bedroom to be opened a little.

Sitting up in our bed, I rubbed my eye a little before reaching over and flipping my phone up to light up the screen, the time reading 2:14am. Getting up, I crossed my arms over my chest, following the noise groggily, trying not to trip over my own two feet. I heard his grunts before I saw him, punching away at his bag. He stopped for a second, a mad look in his eyes before he stopped the bag with his hands, panting from the workout he’d just done.

“Mitch?” I quietly called. “Baby, are you okay?”

His look softened when our eyes met, something along the lines of regret on his face. He walked over to me, gently bringing his hands to my cheeks, a small grimace to his face. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry. It was a long day at work, and I needed to take my frustrations out and the bag was the only choice.”

Leaning into his touch, I closed my eyes and hummed quietly. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “Is it about the work event in a couple weeks?”

He sighed, pressing his forehead to mine. “It’s like you’re a fucking mind reader.”

I giggled, moving my head to press my lips against his, softly. I hummed again as I pulled away, smiling a little.

“Go back to bed,” he said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“You better, or I’m kicking your ass.”

He chuckled, rubbing the tip of his nose against mine. “You wish.”

I turned around and looked at him over my shoulder, smiling at him. As I walked away, I felt him smack my ass, making me jump a little. “Mitch!”

“Bed!”

~~~

A couple weeks had passed, and it was just a couple days before Mitch’s work event. I already had my dress picked out, but helping Mitch decide whether he would be wearing a bow tie or a normal one was beginning to become impossible.

“Would you hold still?” I exclaimed. “I’m trying to get this right.”

“I wasn’t aware you knew how to tie a bow tie,” he said.

I looked at him with a blank expression. “I don’t. Which is why you need to be still.” I looked back at the material around his neck, groaning with defeat. “Oh, my god, just wear a normal fucking tie.”

He shrugged, saying, “Eh, ties aren’t really my thing.”

I leaned my head back and groaned, turning to our dresser, placing the bow tie down. “You’re not going unbuttoned. It’s a formal event from what the girls have told me. You’re wearing a tie.”

Walking around him to the bed, I picked up the tie that I placed there earlier in the day. “These I actually know how to tie.”

Before I could turn around to walk back around him, I felt two arms go around my waist before a chin was placed on my shoulder. I hummed, leaning my head back on Mitch’s shoulder and closed my eyes.

“When we get back from the event, I know the perfect way to tie this tie,” he whispered in my ear.

I bit my bottom lip and let out a hum, thankful for his arms that were around my waist because if they weren’t there, my knees would hit the ground. “Don’t start teasing.”

He quickly spun me around, our lips meeting in an already heated kiss. “It’s what I do best.”

~~~

It’s the night of Mitch’s work event, and since I wasn’t able to go with him due to a minor work obligation, we both went separately. My dress was nude, spaghetti strap and beautiful with beading all over it with about half of my back showing, and a slit about halfway down my left leg. I paired it with some nude heels, my hair was half up half down in beautiful waves, and my makeup was done elegantly; almost like what you would see on a bride.

As soon as I had walked into the building where the event was taking place, I was offered a glass of champagne, and started looking for Mitch. I found him, talking to his boss, Stan Hurley, who locked eyes with me before leaning in closer to Mitch’s ear, whispering something into his ear.

Whatever he said made Mitch turn around and stare at me like he was seeing me for the first time again. Different story, different time.

I walked over to the two of them, putting my free arm across Mitch’s upper back, his arm going around my waist. “Well, howdy, boys.”

“Y/N,” Stan greeted, leaning forward and giving me a small hug… something of which he never gives. “You look beautiful.” “Thank you,” I smiled. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” I looked over at Mitch, seeing a small scowl on his face. “I see you managed to tie that all by yourself.”

He looked over at me, scowl still present.

Stan cleared his throat before turning his body halfway away from us. “I’ll let you two have a little bit of privacy.”

Just as soon as Stan walked away, Mitch’s grip on me tightened ever so slightly. He went to say something, but I interrupted his thoughts. “I’m gonna go find Sophie and say hey.”

I walked away from him, taking another sip of the alcoholic beverage in my hand. Once I found Sophie, I went over the game plan we had for the night to make Mitch jealous.

~~~

Around thirty or so minutes later, I felt an arm wrap around my waist, pulling my back to their front. Because I didn’t know who it was, I started to panic a little on the inside before I felt those lips I love so much press brush against the shell of my ear.

“What makes you think you can wear a dress like that tonight?” Mitch growled in my ear, quietly.

I look over at him with sultry eyes, saying, “Why? Are you jealous?.”

Moving his body to face me a little more, we never stopped our stare down as he says, “No other guy in here should be able to look at you the way I get to.”

“And no other girl here should be able to do the same with you. Looking like a snack in this suit. You know what it does to me.”

“Oh!” he said, one brow raised. “You’re jealous?”

With a scowl on my face, I turn my head back to the event. Mine and Aubrey’s eyes met for a second before I started to get a little mad. Grabbing Mitch's hand, I basically dragged him out of the event and back to his car, pushing him against the driver's side door.

He went to speak as I undid the buttons on his suit jacket, but I stopped him with my lips, putting my hands on his sides under his jacket.

I felt his hands on my cheeks, deepening the kiss.

After our tongues battled for a minute or two, he pulled away, a smirk on his face. “You are jealous.”

“If Aubrey thinks she can have you, she’s dead fucking wrong,” I breathed. “Now, take me home and fuck me as good as you know how to until the sun comes up or else I’ll change my mind.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2: i had this idea for a work place event, and since mitch is a cia operative, i really don’t know if the actual cia has work events like this, so i kinda just went with the flow of the story. if you’re wondering, she makes mitch jealous by wearing this dress, and not really standing around him for the time that they’re there.

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellysashcroft @lauren-novak

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If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @stilinskiparker.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of the creator of the late author, Vince Flynn.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

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Posted on June 16, 2021

#mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp x y/n #mitch rapp one-shot #mitch rapp imagine #mitch x reader #mitch rapp x reader insert #mitch reader insert #mitch imagine #american assassin imagine

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goddesswritings · 4 years ago

Text

Feel Me - Dylan O’Brien

Title: Feel Me

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien x OC

Summary: This is Y/n’s first non-indie movie, which is exciting. But she also get’s to work with the amazing Dylan O’Brien. He plays her love interest in the film. This causes some sexual tension between the two. Do they break down and let their feelings get to them, or do they pretend there is nothing going on?

Words: 7.8k

Notes: This is a fic I have been working on for four years. I was never able to find the perfect person for this fic but getting back into Dylan gave me the perfect person. Let me know if you want to see how these two act in interviews for their movie. Perhaps, she will even get a role for the new TW stuff.

Masterlist

********

“Okay you two have great chemistry and I want to see it in the next scene. I need to see that passion that will have the audience believing you’re really in love. Which isn’t hard when you have such a beautiful costar like, Y/n. Right Dylan?” The director said to the two of you as you were setting up for the next scene.

Dylan laughed and pulled you close, “You’re right. She’s quite easy to get along with and our chemistry is just on fire. We’ll pull it off. Right Y/n?” He asked you sending you a look that had you melting to the floor.

“Oh yes we will.” You quickly agreed. How could you say anything else when you were really close to Dylan O’Brien? It was amazing that you were getting the chance to work with him and even more so that you were his love interest. So, it’s safe to say you had a huge crush on him that just seemed to grow each day that you worked with him.

To make matters worse, or better in some people’s eyes. Dylan and you were getting ready to do a hot sex scene for this film. You’d read over the script about a hundred times, memorizing each and every word on the pages. You still blushed when you thought about that fact that you would have to fake sex in front of a camera with Dylan O’Brien. You would be nearly naked in front of him. It would be a miracle if you didn’t pass out.

“Good, good. I know you two have read over the script a few times and you’re ready. Now I don’t expect it to be perfect on the first try, but I know you both will do good. Dylan, I want you to rush in the minute she opens the door and pull her into a kiss. Make it look very unexpected. Then you can push her into the wall and take it from there. Any nerves Y/n?” The director asked you.

You blushed and shook your head, “No, I’m fine. I’m ready.” Last night you barely slept because you couldn’t stop thinking about what was about to happen. God you were really going to be ravaged by Dylan on film. God something about that thought was a huge turn on.

“Don’t worry, I will take good care of you.” Dylan said before moving into place, and you blushed before moving into place as well. Your heart was beating so fast right now.

The director surveyed the two of you to make sure you were ready before taking his place behind the camera. Your mind was going a mile a minute right now. Oh gosh, you were essentially about to have sex on camera. Well except there would be no penetration or like actual pleasure.

“Action!” He yelled, and you snapped out of your mind.

Almost immediately Dylan knocked on the door in front of you. You took a deep breath before opening it. Dylan rushed in and pulled you into a kiss, a deeply passionate kiss. You acted surprised and essentially you were because who wouldn’t be surprise when Dylan O’Brien rushed in to kiss you, even if you knew it was going to happen.

You felt him walking you both backwards as you continued to kiss. The kiss was getting hotter and he bit your lip and caused you to open your mouth and let him in. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer. He pushed you against the wall and leaned close.

“Fuck you’re so sexy.” Dylan whispered very softly so that the camera wouldn’t pick it up. You thought he was just really into the scene.

You moaned into his mouth and he lifted your legs up to wrap around his waist, making you even closer to him. You were surprised to feel a bulge forming. Was this actually turning him on? You know you were turned on.

Dylan separated from the kiss like the script had said and attached his lips to your neck, immediately sucking and biting various spots on your neck. It felt like he was trying to find your sensitive spot and it didn’t take him long until you moaned a genuine moan as he nibbled on the spot that had you writhing in his arms.

“Do you want to go further, baby?” Dylan asked separating from your neck. He was breathing hard and looked like he was trying to stay in control.

“Yes, oh yes.” You moaned making him smile. Dylan quickly moved the two of you away from the wall and the director yelled cut.

“Wow, great job guys. Dylan you really sold the part. My god Y/n, those moans sounded so real.” He went on smiling like a lunatic.

Well Mr. Director, those moans were real.

“Are you guys ready for the bed scene?” He questioned Dylan and you.

You were so nervous. In all the works you’d acted in, you’d never done an actual sex scene. Also, you’d never had such an attractive love interest that actually managed to turn you on. From day one of this movie, it felt like Dylan was teasing you. It felt like he knew that you had been crushing on him ever since you saw him first act.

“Can we have ten minutes to get comfortable?” Dylan asked before you could respond.

The director looked at you and then nodded, “Oh yes, that’s totally fine. Take your time.” He walked off leaving you alone with Dylan.

Dylan grabbed your hand and pulled you into the direction of his trailer. Once you both reached it, he shut the door behind you and motioned for you to sit down. For some reason, your nerves were going crazy. You felt like he was going to tell you he didn’t want to do the scene with you.

“I thought that we should talk before we went ahead and had fake sex in front of a camera. It’s your first time, right?” Dylan asked taking a seat beside you.

It sounded like he was asking if you were a virgin and that thought made you blush, “Oh yes, it is.” You said softly.

“It’s best if we talk through boundaries and get more comfortable around each other. I mean I’m extremely comfortable around you, but you’re usually so quiet when we aren’t shooting, so I don’t know how you are.”

Dylan was being so thoughtful, and it made you smile, “Thank you Dylan. I’m actually amazingly comfortable. I mean I have had two months to get used to this sex scene and I feel like I’m ready. Are you?”

“Oh babe, I’m always ready.” He sent a wink your way.

The room suddenly felt hotter and you wondered if he could feel it.

“Um alright. So, what are your boundaries?”

“Well I virtually have none, especially since the scene is so straightforward. I’m more worried about you since this will be your first time doing this on camera. We need to make it look convincing and after what you just did out there, I have no doubt you can do that. But please tell me where your boundaries lie.”

“Okay, well I don’t feel like there will be many to be honest. I want to make the scene look as real as possible and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to do that. I’ve already agreed to go shirtless on camera, so I think anything we do won’t be too shocking to me.”

Dylan nodded his head, “Alrighty then, do you trust me?”

“Of course, I do, you know the scenes well and are an amazing actor.”

He smiled, “Then will you allow me to lead you through the scene?”

Honestly, this proposition made you feel better about the scene, “You will do that for me?”

“Yes, I will. You’ve had sex before, right?”

You blushed a deep crimson when he asked that, “Oh yes I have.” But honestly the three encounters were nothing short of disappointing and not pleasurable for you at all.

“Great, then this won’t be hard at all. I will help you through the scene and it will be over before you know it.”

But you didn’t want it to go by too quickly. You loved that you would be able to spend a short amount of time experiencing just a fraction of what Dylan could offer in bed. You’d only fantasized it almost every night for the last two weeks.

“Okay, are we ready?” You questioned more than ready to do this.

“I believe we are. I’m going to take good care of you out on set.” Those words set the butterflies in motion. Dylan was too sweet to you.

The two of you entered set and immediately gained the attention of the director, “You two ready for the scene?”

“We’re ready to go.” Dylan said staying close to you as they set up around you both.

“Great, I suppose the two of you know what is supposed to happen. Now I don’t want this to look like some porn video, I need to see genuine feelings. I chose the two of you because your past work has proven that you’re more than capable of giving me what I need.” The director spoke to the two of you and looked through his script. “Let’s do this. Places on set.”

Your nerves crashed back into you when you realized you were about to be half naked on set, in front of one of your favorite actors.

Dylan leaned into you, “Take a deep breath Y/n, everything will be alright.” You nodded and listened to his words before you were told to take your place on set, which would be in Dylan’s arms, leaning against the door frame in an intense make out session.

Dylan pulled you into his arms and pressed you into the door frame, “Remember, deep breath.” He whispered before the two of you got into position and he picked you up in his arms again. As soon as the director called action, the both of you got right back to kissing. It felt like you had continued where you both left off.

You both kissed for a long while until you got the cue to start moving to the bed. He set you at the edge of the bed while still kissing you. His hands had started to wander your body, feeling your soft curves that were hidden beneath the clothes you were wearing. His hand traveled under your shirt and he rested them on your bare skin, rubbing slow calming circles into your skin, all while still kissing you with a wild passion.

His hands then began to push your shirt up, revealing more of your skin. His hands on your bare skin sent shivers through your body. He pulled away and lifted the shirt over your head and threw it behind him. This was your cue to pull off his shirt as well, so you both continued to kiss as you pushed his shirt up and then pulled it over his head and threw it on the ground with yours.

Your body was on fire and you were so turned on at this point. Everything felt so real and you wanted it to be much more than just what the two of you were doing for the camera. You needed Dylan, but you had to pretend that you didn’t. This was surely going to be hell.

“Oh baby, you’re so hot.” Dylan said his line so perfectly, but you could hear the lust in his voice. The pure genuine lust, that you were sure you’d giving him.

“I need you.” You whined, sitting up and pulling him closer by his belt loops. He stood between your legs as you ran your hands up and down his smooth muscular chest. The feeling of his taut smooth skin beneath your hands, was enough to make you wet. You really did need him, but not on set. Preferably in private, where he could fuck you just the way you wanted it.

“It’s coming, baby.” He pushed you back on the bed and his hands founds the button to your jeans, which he quickly popped and unzipped the jeans. With slow and sensual movements, he moved the jeans down your legs. Kissing every bit of newly exposed skin as he pulled the fabric from your body. You had answered the door having bare feet, so he had no need to remove any shoes.

“You’re so ready for me.” He commented, looking up at you from his spot between your legs. His eyes traveled down to your panties and suddenly you were very aware of how wet you were. You were sure he could see the evidence in front of him, but you hoped to god no one else could see it.

“Stop teasing me.” Your voice came out a little more whiney than you had wanted it but that only made him smirk. He knew just how worked up he had made you.

“Okay baby girl.” Suddenly he started kissing up my legs, moving closer to your soaking wet heat. You hoped he wasn’t going to do what you thought he was going to do. He couldn’t do that on camera. He reached your upper thighs, and placed wet kisses on them, sending shivers through your body. Skipping over your soaked pussy, he was kissing your stomach, moving up your body at a snails pace.

“You’re teasing me, Tommy.” You said the line, keeping the moans from falling from your mouth. His lips on your skin was absolute heaven. You wanted to feel his lips everywhere and anywhere.

“I’m sorry Holly, I just love your body.” The lust was even more evident as he stopped beneath your breasts. Nerves flashed through your body as his hand traveled behind your back to unclasp the grey lacy bra you’d been given in wardrobe. He was about to see you half-naked. Everyone was about to see you half-naked.

“Cut.” The director yelled as his hands found the clasp. You heard him groan lowly in dissatisfaction and it make you giggle from beneath him.

“You two are doing amazing. I love it, I do but there’s something missing from this scene.” The director drawled as he entered the set.

You and Dylan looked at him, waiting for him to figure out what was missing. You honestly felt like everything is perfect and the evidence of that was coating your panties at this very moment. But you weren’t the director, so you couldn’t have the last word about it.

“Give me five minutes to mull it over and we will resume the scene.” He said walking away from you both.

Once again, a groan left Dylan’s mouth. “I was really getting into it.” He mumbled and once again you giggled. His eyes met yours and he raised his eyebrows at you. “You seemed to be getting quite into it as well, my sweet Y/n.” He was still leaning over you, with his face inches from your heaving bust.

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You whispered, letting heat cover your cheeks.

“Oh, you don’t. So, you’re not soaking wet right now?” His words knocked you out of your reverie.

“Not at all.” You lied through my teeth.

“Sure.” Suddenly a hand started traveling down your body, not stopping until it reached the top of your panties. “So, if I put my hand down your panties, I won’t find that you’re soaked?”

Blush covered your cheeks. You never thought you’d hear those words from him.

“Don’t be shy, sweet girl. It’s perfectly normal.” Suddenly his strong hand moved below your panties, traveling the length of your slit and gathering some of the wetness there before he removed his fingers. A smirk graced his face as he pulled his fingers from your panties and examined them before popping them into his mouth and sucking the juices from his fingers.

“Oh, baby girl. You’re wetter than I thought, and you taste absolutely delicious.” If you weren’t already gushing your panties, you were now.

“Alright, let’s get back into position.” The director came back to set and saw you both in the same position. “Oh perfect, the two of you are ready. Let’s just pick up from where we left off.” He stated, going behind the camera once again.

“Action!” He yelled, and you two were right back into the scene.

Dylan was back to kissing his way up to your chest and reaching behind you again, to remove the bra. He was quick to remove it this time, wanting to move on with the scene. A growl left his lips as he removed the bra to reveal your perky breasts. You honestly couldn’t tell if that growl was a part of his character or real, but it sure had you going.

“So perfect.” He whispered while taking one of your breasts into his hand, cupping it in his large hand. You moaned at the feeling, biting your lip, and throwing your head back. Especially when he started squeezing it while the length of his body rubbed on you.

This was your cue to push him up and throw him on his back, while you straddle him. It all happened in a matter of seconds and Dylan was on his back, staring up at you with those handsome amber eyes of his. You straddled his waist proudly, grinding yourself down onto him as his hands gripped your waist.

“I need you now, Tommy. Let’s stop wasting time.” You ground, moving down, and unbuckling his jeans. His shoes had been removed somewhere in the mix of us making it to the bed. You quickly pulled the jeans from his legs, which was surprisingly easy. Dylan laid in the bed, in only his blue briefs, which weren’t doing much to hide what he had to offer.

“Cut!” The director said as you climbed back onto his waist. “Okay, now we’re going to cut scenes to the main event. We’re going to conceal the fact that you still have clothes on with that sheet. Get into position.” He explained to us.

Dylan helped you from the bed and pulled the sheet down and laid back down on the bed. You positioned yourself on him once again, while some of the set help came to position the sheet to cover your lower halves, to serve the illusion you two were really having sex.

“Perfect. Everyone back into position. Also, I want some more moans, maybe a little hair pulling.” He explained before yelling action once again.

This time, when the camera started rolling, you were wrapped in his arms and you both were locked in a passionate kiss. Now you were supposed to “ride” him, but really just move your hips to drive the illusion further.

Dylan kissed you with more passion than the previous kisses you two had shared and rolled his hips up, sending them colliding with yours and causing his bulge to rub up again your soaking heat. You moaned out loud and gripped his arms as the kiss continued. His hips continued thrusting up, causing him to rub even more. The moans falling from your mouth were real at this point.

“Fuck baby, I love when you moan like that.” His deep voice only served to further your current lust for him. You pressed yourself down onto him, meeting his thrusts and rubbing your swollen clit against his bulge.

Suddenly you were on your back and Dylan was above you. “Tommy, keep it up.” You moaned into his ear, losing your breath as his bulge bumped your heat again and again. You could feel the juices flowing from you and you hoped you would be able to hide that fact once the scene was done.

All thoughts were on Dylan and how he was actually pleasuring you, while the two of you were on camera. Your fingernails embedded themselves into his back, just like the script read but this was a completely real reaction from you. Your head was thrown back in pleasure and his lips attacked your neck as the thrusts continued. You two were dry humping, he had to be getting pleasure out of this. There’s no way he wasn’t.

“You feel so good, baby girl.” He moaned into your ear and you could hear just how much this had affected him as well. You pressed yourself into him a little harder, feeling a distinct jerk from his clothed cock. His poor cock was so aroused with nowhere to go. You so desperately wanted to free it from its prison and slip the lengthy member into your soaking pussy.

You moaned loudly as he hit a particularly good spot that had your panties completely soaked through and through. There was no doubt, the evidence would be there when you both finished. His movements increased, bringing even more pleasure to your little clit, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist and moan even more than before. You were on a trip to heaven and he knew this. He knew you were only seconds from orgasming, and he was willing to take it that far.

To delay an orgasm, you pulled your hips away from his, but his arm wrapped around your body and pulled you against his body again, continuing the tortuous thrusting that was taking place at the moment. He was trying to make you cum in front of all these people, what a sneaky man.

“Cum for me, Holly. I know how close you are.” You swear he wanted to say Y/n, you could just tell but he had managed to save himself. You let out a scream as an intense orgasm overtook your body, absolutely soaking his boxers in the process. Even as the orgasm hit, he continued his torture for the camera. Following the script closely. He was going to make this good for the audience.

The two of you finally slowed down the thrusting and you both dropped down to the bed. His arms were still wrapped around you and his crotch was flush with your soaked pussy. A cheeky smirk graced his face as he took your face in his hands and kissed your swollen lips.

“Oh Holly, I love you so much.” The words that were meant for your character, sent your heart into a frenzy.

“I love you.” You answered back before cuddling up into his chest as he pulled the sheet up over your bodies. The little movement caused more juice to gush from you. You were in a state of shock about the fact you’d actually came on set with Dylan O’Brien. Your sexy as fuck co-star just dry humped you to an orgasm in a room full of people.

“Cut!” The director yelled. You both opened our eyes to see a huge smile upon his face. “That was perfect! You two really killed that scene. We’re done for the day. Thanks for the killer acting you two.” Acting was definitely not something that happened just then, but you just nodded. “We’ll see you Monday, take the weekend off you two.” He said before leaving Dylan and you, half naked on set.

“Well my sweet Y/n. That sure was some great acting. I can sure feel the evidence of that.” He whispered glance down at his covered boxers.

Of course, you were blushing again.

He wrapped an arm around you from the side and pulled you close. “No need to be embarrassed, baby. That was the sexiest thing ever. I fucking loved it and I wouldn’t mind doing that again. Maybe this time we can do it for real?”

You didn’t know how to reply but both your set assistants saved us by bringing thick blue robes over for you two to cover up in. “Thank you, Millie.” You said wrapping the soft fabric around your exposed body. You quickly excused yourself from set and retreated back to your trailer. Your body was so worked up at this point and you desperately needed a shower to clean up from that intense orgasm Dylan had given you.

After that hot scene, you needed a shower to clean up the evidence of that orgasm Dylan had given you without even trying. It was crazy that you even allowed for that to happen. You never let your guard down like that but somehow, Dylan made you bring the walls down to feel like that on set, in front of a bunch of people.

You retreated back to your trailer and hopped into the shower, to wash away the sweat that had formed while you faked sex for the big screen. The shower felt nice and it definitely relaxed you even more. You were sure the only person who knew you’d come on set, was Dylan. It was his goal to make me come, you were sure of it. You’d attempted to pull away from his hips, but he had pulled you back, knowing you were seconds from a huge orgasm. He was a sneaky guy.

Once you finished in the shower, you exited the bathroom and put the robe back around your body once you’d dried off sufficiently. A knock at the door was heard as you entered the main area of the trailer. You assumed it was your agent or someone from set, but you were wrong. Dylan O’Brien was waiting behind the door, fully dressed as opposed to the last time you’d seen him. He let himself into the trailer without an invitation. You shut the door and turned towards him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as he took a seat on your couch. His eyes roamed up and down your body, and an appreciative smirk graced his face, which caused you to blush.

“I was hoping you would agree to go out for a drink with me, to celebrate a good day of shooting.” His voice was as sexy as ever and his eyes didn’t leave your body.

“Oh sure, I just need to get dressed.”

“Who said you needed clothes.” Dylan was being cheeky, and he knew that.

“I would prefer not to go in public naked.”

“You were half naked just now, out on set.”

“That was different.” You were about to go into the back to get clothes when he caught your hand and pulled you between his legs.

“You know, your body is sexy, right? I think men aren’t going to be able to control themselves when they see it on the big screen.” His hands moved to your hips and he pulled you close, resting his head on your stomach.

“They’re only going to see my breasts.” You countered, not wanting to really hear about what men would do once they saw your body. You’d never been really confident in what you had, and it took a lot to get yourself to agree to do it for this movie.

He chuckled and nuzzled his face into the fabric of the robe you were wearing. “I could barely control myself out there. You felt how you make me feel.”

You tried to step back, but he held you in place. “You probably do that with every sex scene you do.” You hadn’t wanted to think about his past movies and the past women he’s had to shoot with, but that thought was always in the back of your mind.

“I don’t. My co-stars don’t really measure up to you. They never made me feel the way you make me feel, Y/n.” You tried to detect any lies, but you couldn’t really tell. You wanted to believe him, but he was a well-known actor and you didn’t think he could really feel something for you. A newcomer actress who’d only ever acted in Indie movies so far.

“That can’t be true.” Once again, you tried to pull away only to be pulled back.

“It’s true. The chemistry we feel, it’s new to me. I’ve never fit well with any other actresses I have acted with. It’s easy with you and I feel like I don’t have to fake the feelings like I had done in the past.” His words were genuine.

“Dylan, how could you feel that for me. I’m nothing special and I’m still new to Hollywood.”

“Y/n, you’re gorgeous and absolutely perfect in my eyes. I’ve never seen any flaws in what you do and if there is, you hide them well. You act with this elegance that inspires me. You have brought me back to the feelings I had when I first began acting. With you, everything is great.”

“Wow, Dylan. I had no idea you felt this way. You know I have admired you since you began acting. Seeing you on the big screen inspired me to jump into it and actually audition for something. I never thought I would ever have the chance to act beside you in a movie and yet here I am. Everyday here on set, has been amazing and a dream.”

“So, does that mean you have feelings for me?” He questioned as his golden amber eyes stared up into yours.

“Well of course it does.” You admitted when he pulled you into his lap and kissed your lips with this unwavering passion that you’d felt pieces of when you’d been on set. His lips on yours felt like heaven on earth or they had transported you there, either way, his lips were amazing. You gave into the kiss and returned the passion he was giving you. You wanted him to know you felt the same way.

His arms wrapped around your waist, joining behind your back, and pulling you closer. Somehow, you had wound your legs around his waist, forgetting completely that all you had on was a robe. It was the last thing on your mind as the kiss consumed you completely. You honestly felt like this was something you’ve never experience before, and you loved every second of it. His lips were becoming dominate and you accepted it and loved it because you wanted more, no you needed more. You needed to feel all of what he was feeling for you and you could definitely feel that through the kiss.

“Your lips are so soft.” He mumbled as you two parted for a brief moment. You took initiative and pulled him back into the kiss. The craving has reigned you in as you bit his lip. He hadn’t expected it, but he loved it because he smirked into the kiss.

Your arms were wound around his shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You felt like you needed to get even closer to him and he felt it as well, because his grip on you had only grown tighter but not uncomfortably so. It was nice to be wrapped up in his arms like this, no one had really made you feel the way he did. He brought out intense feelings from you.

This time, he bit your lip and you opened your mouth in a gasp, surprised at the move. He took the chance to join your tongues in a blissful move. You savored the feelings and tastes you received from him. He tasted like spearmint gum and a hint of coffee from the morning you suppose. It was an overall pleasant taste.

You needed more, so you started to grind yourself down onto him as the kiss continued to overtake the two of you. It was then that you were reminded you were only wearing a robe, because your naked heat is what came into contact with the bulge that was covered in jeans. A whimper left your mouth as the pleasure shot through your body, which was still sensitive from the scene on set.

He pulled away from the kiss. “You forgot you were naked, didn’t you?” He asked with a sexy grin gracing his handsome face.

“Yes, because you came in here and started ravaging me with kisses and I forgot what I had been doing before you came.” You admitted as his hips jerked up into yours, the fabric of the jeans, colliding with your uncovered clit. You cried out in surprise. “You’re not making this easier for me.”

“I don’t want to, baby. I want you. I actually want to feel what it would be like to be inside you. That was pure torture on set. I was seconds away from pulling our underwear off and thrusting into you, I didn’t care who was there on set with us.”

“Oh, I was seconds away from doing the same thing, but I think that would have made our movie into a porn and the director didn’t want that.”

His teeth nibbled on your neck, making you moan out loud. “Well he’s not here right now.”

“Do you want to go further?” Once again, he thrust up, and you were soaking at the torture.

“Yes, I do. Do you want to?” His lips were now covering your neck with small little fluttering kisses that made you feel good.

“I do.” You confirmed, knowing that this was something you wanted.

Without another word, Dylan found the ties to your robe and quickly untied them. The robe fell open, revealing your completely naked body to him. His hands wasted no time in touching and stroking the newly exposed skin. One of his hands wrapped around one of your breasts, he kneaded it making you moan out.

“You like that.” He looked up into your eyes. His whiskey eyes were now fully clouded with lust as he played with you. “I bet you would like it if I touched your wet pussy?” He said. His free hand traveled down your stomach, moving at an achingly slow pace down to your pulsing sex. Finally, after ages, his fingers found your aroused clit. It moved lower to feel the wetness that was coming from your pussy. “Baby girl is so wet for me.”

The way he said that, made you moan out. He smirked at the sound, happy with himself for making you moan at the smallest touch.

“Yes, that’s right baby. I want to hear how good I make you feel.” His wet fingers moved back to your clit, rubbing tortuous circles on the little hard button of nerves.

You bit your lip which he didn’t like. Dylan’s hand left your breast and pulled your lip from your teeth. “No, we’re not going to hold back.”

He was wearing too much clothing. “You’re way too dressed.” His fingers were still rubbing your clit, but you moved to pull his shirt off. He had to remove his fingers while you did this but he quickly replaced them, making you whimper at the touch.

“I love how sensitive I have made you.” The grin on his face was so sexy. You moaned and threw your head back with pleasure. “I need to taste you.”

Dylan removed his fingers and stood up. He kicked off his shoes before taking your hand and leading you back to the bed. As he walked, he unbuttoned his pants. In the bedroom, he pushed you back on the bed. Then he removed his pants and this huge bulge was suddenly on display. It was mouthwateringly sexy.

“What was it that you were saying? You wanted to taste me.” You spread your legs, revealing your swollen and aroused pussy. Your fingers stroked through your folds, teasing both yourself and Dylan.

He growled and fell to his knees. Grabbing a hold of your legs, he yanked you to the edge of the bed. Then he spread your legs before diving into your soaked heat.

His tongue went right for your clit, circling it the way his fingers had. His hands gripped your thighs as he focused on your hard-little clit. Two fingers pushed into your entrance, filling you up. You moaned as he expertly pleasured you.

“Oh fuck, just like that.” It was hard not to want to just completely lose it when the hottest guy ever was going down on you. It was a dream come true.

He hummed against your clit, sending another jolt of pleasure through your body. You buried your hands into his dark hair as he sucked your clit into his perfect mouth. This made your hips buck up for attention.

Dylan pulled away and looked up at you. “How close are you, baby girl?” He questioned before diving back in.

“So close. Keep going, Dyl. I want to come.” You let out a loud moan as he quickened the pace of his fingers that were pumping in and out of you.

He focused all his attention on the buzzing bundle of nerves, knowing that would bring you to your much-desired end.

As your orgasm hit you head on, the blinding pleasure took over your body. You screamed out his name as he continued his torture on your sensitive pussy. He looked extremely pleased with what he’d done. Dylan cleaned up your juices before lifting his face from your pussy. He was covered in your essence.

“That was so fucking hot.” Dylan moved up the bed, so he was hovering over you and pulled you into a sexy kiss. “You taste amazing.” He moaned against your lips.

As you came down from your orgasm, he rubbed his hard cock against your sex. His cock was still covered, but you were dying to take off the last remaining clothing that separated the two of you.

“I need more, Dylan.” You whispered as his bulge thrust against you.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Dylan was totally turning you on with the slight Dom tone he’d taken on.

“You know what I want, Dyl.” Your hand traveled down his body grip his hardened cock. He groaned and grabbed both your hands, pinning them above your head.

“You have to be more specific for me, sweetheart.” He was purposely teasing you now.

You bit your lip before letting out a long moan. “I need you to fuck me, Dylan. Fuck me and show me how much I turn you on.”

The smirk on his face told you that was what he’d wanted. “Good. I can’t wait to fuck this beautiful little pussy. It’s already so wet and willing again.” He moved off you and went to his pants, pulling out a condom.

You sat up and watched Dylan push his briefs from his hips. Then he rolled on the condom. He was deliberately slow and taking his time. He was watching you closely. Once he’d put it on, he made his way back to you.

“Well baby, I think I want to see you ride my cock right now.” He pulled you up and took a seat on the bed. You wasted no time placing his ready cock at your entrance. Once he felt you, he pushed forward, burying himself in your wet walls.

He filled you up in a way that had you losing your mind. His cock was something you could easily get addicted to.

Dylan started moving inside you, which made you start to move on top of him. You swirled your hips as you rode his cock. This was actually a first for you. Your previous encounters never really grew out of the boring missionary. They clearly knew nothing of the pleasure that came with having someone ride your cock.

His hands found your hips as you continued your movements on top of him. He was moaning out loud now, which told you he liked what you were doing.

You pushed him back, so he was laying down and started to ride him harder than before. The feel of his thick cock filling you up, was pure bliss. It had your next orgasm building up quickly. Dylan’s hands reached up to cup your breasts, playing with them as you continued your work.

There was a certain power that came with watching a man fall apart under you. Knowing you were the one who was pleasuring him to the point where he couldn’t contain his moans. You loved it. Most guys weren’t keen about letting the woman take control. Dylan didn’t seem to worried at all about this, it seemed he loved you taking control.

Your second orgasm hit, and you could no longer keep control on top of him. He saw this and took the opportunity to flip you under him. His cock was still inside your pulsing walls, but he was allowing your orgasm to pass before he started on you again.

As soon as you’d calmed down, he started his assault again and began pumping in and out of you. His hands were gripping your waist as he did this. The feeling of your still pulsing walls, on his cock, was heaven and he’d been wanting this since the first moment he met you for this movie. He’d felt the amazing chemistry that led to this connection the two of you shared.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to dive in deeper inside of you. He captured your lips in a hot kiss. It was safe to say the two of you were lost in each other. Just being wrapped up in him was amazingly perfect. You loved it.

“Fuck, Dylan.” You whimpered as his cock brushed past your g-spot. Your third orgasm was building, but you wanted him to cum before you. He needed to. “Cum for me, Dyl. I want to feel you explode inside of me.” You whispered this into his ear, feeling his cock twitch at those words.

“Yes! You feel so fucking good around me.” He moaned as he let go. He came into the condom, but you still felt him explode while he was inside you and it was sexy. It triggered your third orgasm too, making you moan his name out loud. He loved hearing you say his name in the moment of intense pleasure. The look on your face just turned him.

As soon as the orgasms were over, Dylan gingerly set you back on the bed. You hadn’t even noticed how wrapped up the two of you had become. He slid out of you and dropped down onto the bed beside you. After a couple minutes, he got up to dispose of the condom before returning back to you.

Dylan pulled you close as he laid down again. He smiled down at you; happy he’d finally made a move on the woman who’s been plaguing his mind.

“That was amazing.” You said as you snuggled up beside him. Dylan cuddled up next to you happily.

“I can agree. I’ve been thinking about doing that since we met.” He confessed.

You looked up at him. “Wait, really?” This was unreal. Having admired him since his early Teen Wolf days, you never imagined you would be in this position.

“Yes. I just knew there was something between us. I love that it took a hot fake sex scene for us to get here. That’s a story to tell our kids.” He was clearly joking but just hearing him say that, set off butterflies.

This made you giggle. “We already have kids, huh?” You could joke too.

“Yeah, our two daughters and son.” He had good humor. It was nice that it wasn’t awkward between you two after sex.

“I remember now. How could I forget my own children.” This made him chuckle.

“Y/n, will you go out with me?” He asked with hope in his eyes.

“I will. Because I have liked you forever now, like way before I started acting.” You admitted.

“Oh really? So I take it you are a Teen Wolf fan?”

“I am.”

“Then you’re going to love my next endeavor. Jeff decided he wanted to bring us back for a surprise season, because the fans have begged for years.” This news was amazing. He was also clearly happy to return for the show.

“This I love. Will it be on MTV?”

“No, he signed a contract with Amazon Prime.”

“Even better.”

Dylan loved how excited you were about this. “Hey, they are holding casting calls for the show. You should audition.”

This was a dream. Teen Wolf had been the show that interested you in acting while you were in college. If you had a chance to be in the show, past you would die.

“Oh really? Adding characters?”

“I don’t know the whole premise of the season, but I do know he wants to bring on some new characters. I think you would fit in perfectly with the show.”

Dylan sure knew how to charm you.

“You’re only saying that because we just had sex.” You nudged him.

“I would never.” He pulled off a cute shocked face.

Being around him was easy. You were glad that sleeping together hadn’t changed the dynamic between you too. If anything it felt better.

“I know you well enough, Mr. O’Brien.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

The two of you were growing tired. So you asked him to stay the night, to which he said he was already planning on it. You drifted off as you made plans for your date.

Dylan and you had spent the weekend together. Monday morning, you both returned to set with this glow to you. Both of you were extremely satisfied with the way things were working out.

“Dylan and Y/n, just the people I wanted to see. Come to the office.” You both had walked in together.

Once in the office, the director expressed how happy he was with the scene you’d shot last week. In fact, everyone loved it so much that they decided to add another scene.

“So they wrote a whole new scene for us?” Dylan asked as the director finished.

“That’s right. Your chemistry is so good, that they really wanted more. Are you okay with that?” He looked between the two of you.

“Oh yes, we can do it.” You said as Dylan squeezed your thigh in a teasing matter.

He clapped his hands together. “Great, we will send you the new scene when it’s ready. Now let’s resume filming.” Director got up and headed for the door.

You stood up to follow, Dylan was right behind you. “Looks like we get to have more fake sex. Can you handle it?”

“Now that I’ve had the real thing, I know I can.” You loved the teasing. Dylan quickly kissed you before you entered set. This was definitely an interesting movie.

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fossntwriter · 4 years ago

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Masterlist

———————————————————————

Harry Potter

Should’ve seen that coming (Cedric Diggory x reader)

Hunger Games

Jabberjays (Finnick x reader)

Timing (Finnick x reader)

Teen Wolf

The Best Prize (Stiles x reader)

The Maze Runner

More than Life Itself (Newt x reader)

Chicago Shows

You’re Safe (Jay Halstead x reader)

it’s early (Jason todd x reader)

Marvel

Home (Avengers x reader)

Is that mine? (Bucky x reader)

Blood isn’t your Color (Bucky x reader)

I’ll Save You From Anything (Steve x reader)

Play Pretend (Steve x reader)

Don’t Look Down (Peter Parker x reader)

Don’t Waste it (Based on Black Widow post credit scene)

American Assassin

“Yeah, I know.” (Mitch Rapp x reader)

Harry Styles

Fakers, Liars, Lovers (Harry Styles x reader)

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totallynotashieldagent · 3 years ago

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Safe House

Masterlist

You hated it. Hated every single about this. He was throwing things around and you were standing in the corner. He was screaming at someone on a burner phone.

"No fucking shit!" He told them "I'm counter-terrorism. Not a fucking babysitter!" He paused, "What the hell am I supposed to do?!" Again, he waited, "What? Hell- Hello?" He stared at the phone and threw it against the wall, breaking it into pieces, "Fuck!"

"I'm sorry-" You were shaking with fear

Not just of the situation but of him too. He seemed to have picked up on it quickly.

"Fuck-" He groaned and began to put things back in order, "It's not your fault, okay?" He forced himself to say it, "I'm not- I'm not pissed at you,"

You didn't move. You pushed up against the wall and slid down. Wanting to make yourself smaller. Hiding yourself from him.

72 hours ago, you couldn't have imagined that this could've been your life. 72 hours ago, Mitch had been Thomas and he'd been your boyfriend of three weeks. Now everything was a mess. You knew your father must be worried sick but you couldn't call him.

You didn't know how long you stayed in the same position. Maybe you dozed off. It was hard to tell. Reality seemed to only come back to your limbs in a painful way when Thomas- No, Mitch. His name was Mitch now. When he told you to get cleaned up.

You tried to stand but your legs couldn't straighten up. It was like you were stuck

#mitch rapp #reader insert #ao3 #reader #fanfic #ao3fic #reader fic #american assassin #dylan obrien #stiles #thomas maze runner #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp imagine

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thelibrarianintraining · 6 years ago

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Masterlist

* indicates smut

Mitch Rapp

The Division * - Series

Welcome Home - Dad! Mitch

Guilty By Association * Part two is on the way!!

Stiles Stilinski

Messy - College AU

Part I | Part II | Part III

Miracle - FBI! Stiles

Say Love *

Baseball & Alcohol

Dave Hodgman

Milk & Coffee

Stuart Twombly

No Matter Where You Are

The Maze Runner Rewrite

Series Masterlist

Theo Raeken

I’ll Protect You

The Man I Was

Part One | Part Two |

Teen Wolf

Burn - features Scott and Stiles

Alice In Borderland

House of Cards - Suguru Niragi Series

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bxcketbarnes · 7 years ago

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American Assassin

It Wasn’t A Mistake *Smut* You’re Mine, Got It? *Smut* Keep Your Eyes On Me Let’s Talk This Out Switching Sides *Smut* Undercover *Smut*

#mitch rapp #mitch x reader #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp imagine #mitch rapp imagines #mitch x reader imagine #mitch rapp x reader imagine #mitch rapp fluff #mitch rapp smut #mitch rapp fanfiction #mitch rapp fanfic #mitch rapp reader insert #american assassin #american assassin fanfiction #dylan o'brien imagines #dylan o'brien

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pattispunk · 7 years ago

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The Eagle

A/N: Howdy there y’all. My name is Grace and I am your admin here! So I am a super busy gal and I don’t get to write as much as I want to. But this is an idea that I have had for a while and I really want to try my hand at it. So here you go, please keep in mind that I am an amateur writer, I probably won’t post a lot and this is my first fic I have ever published other than one on wattpad which in all honestly will probably move here. So please bear with me, give me some tips and help and love. ;) And let me know what you think.

Summary: Basically this will be a Mitch Rapp x deaf!reader fic. Similar to Rapp’s motivation except you know different. I don’t think I will have them fall in love. Maybe a small fling and then they realize its best for neither of them. Idk man, I’ve never been in a relationship, I don't know how reciprocated feelings work, so this will be a journey. And this has already been too long of an intro, so story starts now!

Images flash through my head as I punch the bag with my fist. My sister’s face, another punch. My mom and dad, two more swift punches follow though. I leap through the air, finishing with a roundhouse kick as I let out a grunt of anger. My face sweating, my hair falling out of place, I let out a silent scream for no one to hear. I stare at the punching bag, hating everything that had happened to you, hating him. I back up twenty feet from my red Velcro-d nemesis, eyes on the bag, I run.

…

“Who is she?” Rapp breathed out with a monotone whisper.

“She’s no one you need to concern yourself with.”

I looked over to her, as she sprinted towards the punching bag. The next thing that I see, is the weirdest thing I had ever seen. She leaped onto the bag, swinging it around with the chains above her rattling and tackling the nearest punching dummy, knocking it to the ground. She stood up, and started to walk away, un-taping her hands as she walked.

“Holy crap.”

“Yeah, and here’s the kicker. She can’t hear a thing.”

…

It was supposed to be a simple vacation. A simple family vacation to the beautiful shore of Jordan. My mom and dad were supposed to be sun-bathing together, my baby sister was supposed to be playing in the sand, making sand castles. But no, I had insisted we stayed inside, I insisted that we can go down to the beach tomorrow, what I would give to have gone down to the beach that day.

They were sitting in our hotel room, on the floor below the top. They were playing board games, laughing, enjoying their vacation. All the while I was rushing downstairs to get food and to avoid the annoyance of family game night. I was about to reach the main floor when it happened. What I could only describe as a firework on a scale of much greater magnitude, but that was only the sound, the physical feeling of the accident was so much more. The heat was unbearable, I was thrown back, an indescribable pain erupted in my gut and every sound was replaced by a ringing. A ringing that would eventually drown out all other sounds, then cease to exist. Consciousness eluded me, and when I came to, my life was much different than it was supposed to be.

…

I was told it had been several hours before I gained any measurement of consciousness. And when I did, I found myself in a hospital, miles away from the hotel you were staying at. Only to find out what you never wanted to hear. Your mom, your dad, your sister; they were gone, torn down at the hands of terrorists, of cowards.

They made you feel hopeless, weak, mortal, they took your family, the ones who defined you and left you at the mercy of God. They made me feel something I never wanted to feel again. And thus begins my journey, my only goal from here on out. Vengeance.

…

You walks down the corridor of the military base, carefully avoiding the new cadets running in cadence down the hall. She could only wonder what the color guard was screaming at the new recruits, probably something stupid, maybe not. You keep walking until you are stopped in the hallway, a hand grabs your shoulder. Very quickly, you hip-checked the figure behind, grabbed the arm closest to you and flipped the body over your head. Quickly, dropping to one knee pressed to the offender’s throat only to find a guy in civilian clothes, mouthing something that could have looked like “stop stop please stop”, but you didn’t really care. Or maybe you just couldn’t pay attention.

As a deaf agent, you have always stared at lips, just to read them of course. But this man, this man was different. Maybe it was his lips, his eyes, his demeanor, hell maybe it was his ignorance. But something stood out. Now, people know not to sneak up on you, ever since you did the same moves on one of the officers of the base. Word spread quickly and no one ever approached you from behind since, you decided to give this guy a pass and just keep walking. (And no, it wasn’t because you liked the way he looked) So with that, you dust off your hands and continue walking in the same direction you previously were, unable to get the strange mans lips out of your head.

SO THANKS FOR READING YOU MADE IT TO THE END. No but seriously, thanks for bearing that torturous fic, and let me know... if anyone ever sees this.

#American Assassin #mitch rapp x reader #deaf!reader #probably reader insert #mitch rapp #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski #mitch rapp imagine

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roseringleader13 · 7 years ago

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Only Fools Rush In - Mitch Rapp - Chapter 1

Author: Roseringleader13 Pairing: Mitch Rapp x Reader Word count: 1650 Warnings: None Summary: After losing her mother and brother in a random shooting 17 years ago, the reader has fallen into a basic routine. Get up, go to work, sneak away to ruin her uncles business as revenge for killing her brother and mother to tie up loose ends, go back to work, go home, and sleep while being haunted by the memory of seeing her family die. Her uncle doesn’t know that she’s been sabotaging his work, nor does the man who was hired to take her uncle out, Mitch Rapp. After meeting him, unaware that he is going to be using her to get close to her uncle, will she eventual tell him the truth and try to hold onto a love she wasn’t expecting, or will she take him out for getting in the way of a revenge she’s spent the last 6 years planning and conducting? A/N: So this is the first time in a while that I have decided to try and write a series again and this is set after the events of American Assassin. I have @golddaggers to thank for reading over the first chapter for me and convincing me that I needed to post it rather than have it collect figurative dust inside my laptop. I would really appreciate feed back you guys so please let me know what you think!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wise men say Only fools rush in But I can’t help falling in love with you Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can’t help falling in love with you

Those were the lyrics that you would hear in every dream. The soft hum of your mother’s voice as her thin and delicate fingers would strum the strings of her guitar, the antique instrument passed down from woman to woman in your family. You could still remember the way her beautiful and wavy auburn hair would flow gently in the soft Autumn breeze as those luscious locks would sometimes blend in with the leaves behind her as you would look up at your mother from your young height as she sat on the bench. Her eyes would match the sky above you, seeming so bright and so happy as she sang to you, her youngest daughter and your brother, her eldest son. More often than not, you and your mother would be wearing identical dresses that would flow around your knees while covering the length of your arms. It was a soft green today, much like the rare moss that would grow on the sides of trees just as the sun would shine down on the plant with early morning rays.

Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be

The dream was always a bittersweet moment. For a time, your sleep would be peaceful and soft as it played inside your mind’s eye. Your y/h/c would always be tied up in an adorable set of pigtail braids, y/e/c would be staring at your mother in complete wonder as she sang, tiny hands playing with the edge of your skirt as you listened on baited breath for each word and note to come from her. Your brother would always be in a white dress shirt and be wearing a pair of faded but loved blue jeans, loafers covering his young 13 year old feet compared to the soft ballet shoes on your 7 year old feet. It was always so peaceful and perfect.

Take my hand Take my whole life too For I can’t help falling in love with you Until the gunshots rang out. Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be

Then everything was chaos. Your brother was screaming at you to run while blood dripped from the corner of his now stained lips. Each time, your mother's body would be slumped backwards, blood slowly running down the front of her face from that small hole in her forehead, guitar limp in her arms while the back of her head was blown out. If you didn’t see the back of her, nor the blood and small bullet hole, you could have sworn your mother was simply asleep.

Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can’t help falling in love with you For I can’t help falling in love with you

It all happened so fast, the screaming from both yourself and passing patrons in the park along with more gunshots ringing out among the once peaceful little forest area. You honestly couldn’t remember how you survived nor could you remember anything after it. One moment you were listening to your mother sing, then your brother screamed for you to run, then you were sitting on that old and bent leather couch that belonged to your Uncle Michael, the child services handing over the adoption paperwork. Right as your uncle would crouch down and lay a hand on your small shoulder, whispering softly that everything would be alright, you would wake up.

Cold sweat would be drenching your y/s/c pale form as you forced yourself up from the bed, head throbbing in pain as your hands tried to find some kind of purchase on the bedside table so you could stand up. Those dreams always exhausted you each morning despite it having been 17 years since the day your mother and brother were murdered in cold blood on that gentle Autumn afternoon.

Stumbling towards the bathroom in your small one bedroom apartment, a loud meowing sound came from the little black ball of fluff you had named Mystic, clearly thinking it was time for breakfast despite you always taking a shower first. You knew you needed that shower more than normal since the moment you saw the dark bags under your eyes that would need lots of makeup to hide, and the way that there were scratches all over your arms from fighting yourself in your sleep. So Mystic would have to wait just a bit longer. That cat never did respect your schedule, which was always the same.

Wake up in a cold sweat. Shower. Eat breakfast and feed the cat while in a towel. Go get dressed. Grab your purse and keys. Lock up your apartment. Head down to the flower shop next to your apartment building and help water the flowers since Ms. Dunbar couldn’t move around as well as she used to. Accept the homemade cookie from her after you were done. Go to the bookshop right around the corner. Slip on your badge showing your employment there. Stock the shelves. Disappear and tell your boss you got distract reading in the back for a good 4 hours. Sit at the front desk since he would finish the stocking. Sit there for an hour. Wish him a good evening as you headed home. Tell Ms. Dunbar to have a good dinner as you pass by her. Go into your apartment and eat dinner. Slip into pajamas. Do research on your laptop until 1 in the morning. Finally go to sleep.

However, you didn’t expect your schedule to be thrown for a complete loop later that day while at work.

It was when a low and gruff, but somehow comforting voice, caused you to look up from the book you had hidden under the counter. Y/h/c swished around your shoulders at the sudden movement, having cut it into a short style about 10 years back, y/e/c meeting a soft honey- no whiskey colored iris. Dark brown hair was brushed into a typical style of spiky but soft on top of his head while moles were just barely hidden beneath the thin layer of scruff that danced along his jaws structure that would could probably cut glass. The more you looked at him, you took note of the small scar on the tip of his nose near his right nostril as well as the dark t-shirt that hugged each set of muscles this man clearly had. Especially based on how his biceps seemed to fight the edge of the material and his chest was just the right amount of bulked in your opinion.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t hear you.” You admitted bashfully, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you stood up straight and apologized once more for the inconvenience.

“It’s alright. Clearly whatever you’re reading under the counter must be good if it distracted you that much. I asked if you had the sequel to this book somewhere in this shop. I haven’t been able to find it anywhere else yet.” He repeated, giving a lopsided smirk on those pink lips as he held the book out to you once more, your eyes taking note of how large and veiny them seemed before taking the literature from him.

“I’ve been a fan of the classics since I was a child. I was rereading Beowulf.” You admitted, looking over the title of the book he handed you, typing it into the computer to see if you did actually have a copy of the sequel. If not, you could always offer to lend him your personal copy…might give you a reason to see this man again.

“Any luck?” He asked after a long pause of silence between the two of you, having leaned against the counter as you were searching, unaware of how his eyes seemed to skim over your figure almost appreciatively.

“No we don’t have a copy. But…if you like, I could lend you my own personal copy of it. Give me a reason to see you again since not many men who catch my interest come in here.” You said confidently, giving him a playful smile as you handed his book back to him, trying to hide the pink that threatened to appear on your cheeks when his fingers brushed against your own and that smirk turned into a grin on his face.

“Well I wouldn’t want to disappoint a cute girl by never coming back now would I?” He asked, tucking the book under his arm as he leaned against the counter once more.

“If you come by tomorrow, I can give you the copy and you could easily return it when you’re done. I work here every week day.” The words just tumbled from your lips smoothly, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned towards him yourself, enjoying the light but completely obvious flirting that was going on between the two of you.

“Consider it done…” He trailed off, raising an eyebrow as he waited for your name.

“Y/F/N.” You replied, giving him your first name as you held your hand out for him to shake. “And you are?”

“Mitch.” He replied, reaching forward and shaking your hand, the firm grip making goosebumps cover your skin. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/f/n.” He added, winking before turning and walking out of the shop, not hearing the soft sigh that left your lips as you enjoyed the sight of him walking away.

Maybe having things disrupt your normal pattern wasn’t always bad…you might feed Mystic first before taking a shower in the morning.

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