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charlie-boio · 4 years

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Learning to Love Again - Part 1

Pairing: Mitch Rapp x Reader

Word Count: 6089

A/N: Hey hey!! So this is the start of my new series for @writingsbychlo Mitch Month. She also helped me develop this idea which I am very grateful for! This will be a mutual healing fic for both Mitch and the reader, so please enjoy while I take you on a journey. I love this idea so much so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do!

WARNINGS: gun violence, talks of past abuse, domestic violence, emotional abuse, mentions of panic attacks.

“Stay away from me!” you back away slowly, your arms extended shakily out in front of you. Unfortunately, you were running out of space and your back hit a wall.

“You really thought you could leave me? ME? Who else will have you, you worthless bitch!” Jake slammed his hand against the wall next to your head. You flinched, jerking your head away. He was uncomfortably close, his breath hot against you, his glare piercing right through you.

“Please…go away…” you whimpered, tears falling freely now. You felt yourself shrink into yourself more and more, internally begging whatever God was out there to let you escape this situation.

Apparently, He wasn’t listening.

Jake moved even closer; his chest pressed hard against yours. “You’re staying right here, with me. I’m not going anywhere,”

Feeling as though you had nothing left to lose, you jerked your head forward, ramming it up into his nose. Jake yelled out, stumbling back clutching his nose, blood dripping through his fingers. Your eyes went wide for a split second before you bolted, running down the stairs, through the kitchen and out the back door. You weren’t sure what to do or where you were going to go, but right now the adrenaline coursing through your veins wasn’t concerned about a plan. All you were concerned about was getting away.

A loud clap came roaring through the air, followed by an extreme pain tearing through your side. A loud shriek echoed, and for a split second you turned to see if anyone was hurt before realizing the screams and cries were your own. The starry sky above you began to blur away, voices shouting around you that began to blur together with your vision. Eventually a face came into your view, but by that point you were too far gone.

Now you were in darkness.

Falling…falling…falling…

You jerked awake, sitting up in your bed. Your hand remained clamped onto your side while you gasped for air. You tried your best to remember what your Dr. Hanson had said to you, but her words died in your head, feeling frustratingly out of reach.

After a few painstakingly long minutes, your gasps turned into deeper breaths. Your eyes glanced around the room, taking in your new surrounds. You went through a mantra in your head ‘This isn’t Jake’s house in Los Angles. This is your apartment that he cannot get into. He’s currently in jail, and he cannot hurt you.’ You repeated that to yourself a few more times until it truly stuck in your head.

Tentatively, you touched the scar on your left side, feeling the raised mark against your skin. You said your last mantra out loud, “It was only a dream…”

Knowing sleep wouldn’t come back to you, you got up and stretched. Picking at your fingers, you glanced at the clock. 4:58. You smiled a little to yourself. Dr. Hanson would be proud of you for sleeping in an hour longer than last week, though she’ll be disappointed you couldn’t get a night without nightmares. That thought killed your mood slightly as you got up and made your way to the kitchen.

Your apartment was small, with only one bedroom since you didn’t know anyone who would come to see you. The living room and kitchen were connected, and you had a lovely little porch outside of the living room on the third floor of your apartment building. There wasn’t much to your apartment since Jake made sure you didn’t have many possessions anymore, but you were proud of it, nonetheless.

You settled on the couch, flicking through different channels on your bulky TV until you found a show that was mind numbing enough for you to watch. The thought of eating crossed your mind for a split second before you shook it from your mind. You weren’t hungry, you never were in the mornings anymore.

Besides, after your session today you go to the coffee shop down the street, and that would be a lot of your calories for the day.

Instead, you sat there watching the screen, but your eyes and ears weren’t really focusing on it. You just needed the noise to distract you from hearing Jake’s voice ringing in your head. Or maybe by now it was your own voice. Quite honestly, you couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

You blinked and apparently now the sun was up. You blinked rapidly a few more times and rubbed your eyes together. A surge of panic raced through you as you checked the time before immediately sighing and seeing that it was only 8:28 now. You still had about another hour before you had to leave. Since you had the time, you decided to shower before heading over to Dr. Hanson’s office. You walked into the bathroom and clicked the lock on the door. Even though you lived by yourself you always locked the door. You didn’t think you could relax without it. Turning on the water, you stepped out of your clothes and made sure it was a slightly too hot temperature before stepping in.

Showering was another way for you to shut out your past trauma and memories, and perhaps it wasn’t healthy, but right now you didn’t know how else you could deal with Jake’s pounding in your head, and there wasn’t anyone you were close to anymore who could tell you that this was wrong, other than Dr. Hanson. All you wanted was a moment of peace, so you’d spend way too long just standing in the water, letting it wash over your skin before rushing through washing your hair and body and hopping out.

Unfortunately, the shower took a little longer than you thought it would, and by the time you got out, changing into a plain white t-shirt with leggings and tennis shoes, it was already 9:42. You should’ve left 12 minutes ago.

Your eyes widened at the clock while your heart began to race. Fuck, fuck, fuck! You thought to yourself miserably and you ran out the door. You didn’t want to seem like a freak, so you instead walked a little faster than normal as you made your way to Dr. Hanson’s office. Thankfully, you still arrived by 8:56, four minutes early. You still felt the familiar pool of guilt in your stomach as you sat down and waited for Dr. Hanson to call you back.

You bounced your knee while looking down and picking at your fingers, opening the barely healed scabs that were around them. You glanced up at the secretary Trevor, who didn’t meet your eye as he was typing away at his laptop, looking over all the therapists’ schedules for the day.

You looked over to your right to see someone else sitting, his leg crossed over with his foot resting against his knee. His dark hair was a little on the longer side, but the look suited him well, along with the dark wash jeans and black t-shirt that clung to him well. A few moles scattered across his face; some you couldn’t see quite as well beneath the stubble he had. You couldn’t help but feel like he was out of place; he looked completely at ease, slouching in his chair while he read one of the community magazines they offered. He looked like everyone else, someone who didn’t have nearly as many fucked up problems as you did.

You had seen him here a few times, showing up every other Sunday, and while he spoke warmly to everyone he’s interacted with (Trevor), but he looks like he just keeps to himself. Still, he looked so calm to you. It’d be nice to have that in your life.

His golden eyes flicked up to yours, making eye contact with you. You jumped and immediately casted your eyes down to your fingers, resuming your picking. It’s impolite to stare, Jake’s voice echoed in your head. And he was right. Your head began to pound. Rude, rude, rude, RUDE!

“Y/n?”

Your head snapped up at Trevor’s voice, meeting his gaze. He smiled politely at you. “Dr. Hanson’s waiting for you. You can go right in.”

You nodded and mumbled a thanks under your breath and you gathered yourself up and wait past Trevor’s desk. You could feel the other man’s eyes on you, but you refused to acknowledge him.

You sat in Dr. Hanson’s office, adjusting yourself left and right, continuing to bounce your leg. Her office was rather small, nothing super extravagate. It was painted a pale blue, with her desk turned to face the large window. On the sides were bookshelves, which were filled with different classical reads you recognized. In the far corner was a cat tower, where Herbert was sleeping lazily, and in the center laid a rug with two couches on it, one of which you were sitting in. You crossed your legs politely, and you kept your head low, keeping your gaze down at your hands, which picking at the skin around your fingernails.

“Y/n? Did you hear me?”

Your head snapped up; eyes wide. Fuck. You were definitely not paying attention.

“Um…I-I’m sorry, Dr. Hanson” you mumbled, casting your eyes back down and sinking further into your chair.

“It’s alright, I simply made the observation that you hadn’t been working on what we discussed this past week.”

Double fuck. She’d asked you to work on not picking at the skin around your fingers, and you had agreed that it was something you needed and would work on. In all honestly, you had completely forgotten about it; you were really wrapped up in doing your own thing and just trying to survive.

You contemplated lying, but that didn’t work out too well last week. Not that Dr. Hanson got angry with you; she never seemed to ever get mad with you. Disappointed, maybe, but never mad, and now that you thought about it, she never even seemed disappointed either.

You forced yourself to make eye contact, something else she had asked you to work on that you never did. “No, I haven’t. I’m really sorry.” You said, voice raised to be slightly above the mumble you usually went with nowadays.

Dr. Hanson took notice and smiled at you encouragingly. “That’s okay. Would you feel comfortable trying again next week? Or should we adjust a our strategy?”

You shook your head. “No, I want to try again. I really just forgot about it, Dr. Hanson, but I want to try and focus on it this week. If that doesn’t work, then we can try something else. I want to try and get better.”

“I know it’s hard for you to see, but you already are doing better than before. It’s small, yes, and it may not feel like something worth feeling proud over, but I can assure you it absolutely is. How’s your routine been doing, for example,” Dr. Hanson asked while scribbling something down in her notebook.

“Really well,” you answered. And it was. Until you heard Dr. Hanson say so, you just now realize that your routine had been something you greatly improved on. Until you thought about your nightmares, suddenly a pit fell through to your stomach. “Um…I’m not too sure you’ll like my routine…” you lowered your voice as you spoke.

“Would you mind telling me anyways?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t mind. Um…so I still have nightmares every night. It’s never the same incident, unless it’s…that night. Um, so I’ll usually wake up around 3:30 to 4:30. Somewhere in there. Um, then I’ll make a cup of coffee…but Decaf. I only have regular coffee on Sundays, so I’ll just watch TV until around 7:00, then I’ll shower and get ready for work which starts at 9:00, and then 4:00 I’ll go home and take a walk for about an hour or so. Then I’ll dinner and then I’ll…try to sleep,” you finished with a nod.

Dr. Hanson was nodding along, a smile on her face as she happily took notes while you spook. When she finished, she looked up at you. “What do you usually do on weekends?”

“Um…well nothing. Just watch TV, maybe read something. On Sundays I come see you and then go to this little coffee shop down the street, but other than that I don’t do anything,” you said, and honestly even reading was a small lie. You used to read a lot, almost five books a week. But after this past year, you honestly couldn’t remember the last time you read a book.

Dr. Hanson gave you a questioning look but decided against saying anything. “Can I ask a nudge question?” she asked.

Nudge and push questions. Nudges were topics that for you were uncomfortable to talk about but wouldn’t be panic attack inducing. It was mostly the “after-effects” of your and Jake’s relationship. Pushes were scarier and were questions specifically about what he did during your relationships. When you had first started out with therapy, you struggled to open up and it was awkward, and a little tense. However, once you developed this nudge and push system, it made your sessions go much smoother, especially if you weren’t ready to talk about certain things.

You took a deep breath and nodded, “I’m ready,” you answered.

“Can you tell me what your nightmares were about this week? If any of them are pushes, you don’t have to talk about them,”

Herbert had woken and was moving up on the couch and into your lap, so you were petting him as you thought it over. “Can I keep them brief?” you asked, a slight waver in your voice.

“Of course, whatever you feel comfortable with,” Dr. Hanson smiled at you encouragingly.

“Okay, well, most of them were from…that night. That’s usually when I would wake up, too. One of them was the day he locked me in the closet, only he never lets me out and I slowly shrivel away, and the last one was when we first met. Everyone was giving him weird looks, but I didn’t know what was wrong. Then he tore off his face and turned into a demon, and everyone was laughing at me…” Herbert cuddled into you closer, his big green eyes looking at you expectedly. It took you a second to realize you’d stopped petting him.

“Do you believe that dreams have any significance to your daily life?”

Nope, you thought. “I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Well, some might say in your latest dream, the one where Jake is a demon, that you blame yourself for not seeing it the signs sooner, and that everyone around you was able to see through it immediately. Would that have some semblance to real life at all?”

Whoops. You sighed. “…but it is true. I didn’t see it.”

“Y/n, a lot of people didn’t see it. Jake had a job, normal friends, and you both had neighbors that you regularly interacted. All of them didn’t see what was happening either. Do you blame them as well?”

“No, but-“

“Then it’s not your fault either. I know it’ll take some time for you to fully see this, but you were manipulated and groomed. This happens to people all over the world, and it’s no one’s fault but the person who did this to you, and you’ve been building your life back.”

Tears were lining your eyes now. “But-but I don’t feel like I’m accomplishing anything. I don’t feel better, and somehow even though he’s gone, I don’t feel free from him,” you blinked, and the tears fell.

“It’ll take time. Lots of time. Two years is a long relationship to undo, and it’ll be very hard I won’t lie, but you’re a strong girl. A survivor. You can get through this, I know it.” Dr. Hanson was able to say it with such confidence that you almost believed it.

Glancing at the clock, you realized 50 minutes had passed. Somehow, it still shocked you how much time flew by during these sessions.

“One last thing before we call it a day, sound good?”

“Okay,” you wiped your tears from your face.

Dr. Hanson handed you a tissue before continuing, “How about your job? You’ve been doing that for about two months now, and I haven’t heard you talk about it much.”

“Oh, it’s going good. I mostly just answer phones and organize people’s schedules. It’s a simple job, but I’ve been liking it a lot.”

“Have you made any friends?” Slowly, you shook your head. You barely spoke to anyone outside of the mandatory meetings to go over their upcoming week.

“Okay, are you up for another task to work on? You don’t have to accomplish it this week if you don’t want to, but maybe something to keep in mind, okay?” you nodded for her to continue. She smiled and said, “Make a friend. Maybe someone to join you at your coffee shop? Or someone to grab lunch with on Saturdays. You’ve been living here for almost three months, so make some roots; someone to talk to other than me. Give it some thought for me, okay?”

Herbert jumped off you, signaling the end of your session. You sat there for a moment. Another person scared you. Right now, you had your safe little bubble with you and Dr. Hanson. Anyone else was untrustworthy. What if they were like Jake?

Still, you knew it was unrealistic to shut everyone out, and if you were being honest, it’s been lonely. “…okay. I-I’ll try,” you said slowly.

Dr. Hanson smiled brightly at you while finishing up her notes. When she was done, she’d bid you a good day, and you left her office.

Walking down the street, you started thinking it over a bit more. You hadn’t even thought about starting over your life or making new friends. Thinking it over, you realized that’s probably why Dr. Hanson was pushing you to get a job in the first place.

Therapists are sneaky…

That wasn’t true. They just point out obvious information and guide you through. It’s not her fault that your oblivious to it.

Turning the corner, you walked into The Roasted Bean. Sunday’s were popular, and today wasn’t an exception. You were about seven people back with everyone else buzzing around the shop, but you didn’t mind; it’s not like you were doing anything anyways. Besides, there were always tables available somehow.

Ben always worked Sundays, so he had gotten to know you briefly, or at least he knew your name. “Hey y/n, what would you like?” he asked warmly.

“Small iced caramel latte with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle please,” It was your usual order, but sometimes you liked to shake it up. Ben nodded at you before quickly going over to make your drink while you stepped aside. You started picking at your fingers, then quickly closed your fists, instead opting to fiddle with your wallet strap instead.

“Y/n?” Ben called, pushing your drink across the counter. You gave him a small smile, grabbing the drink from him. You turned to go to your usually spot to sit down and enjoy your coffee, but found a couple sitting there already. You fumbled for a moment and realized there weren’t any empty seats left.

You took in deep breaths, thinking over your options. You didn’t want to go back to your apartment, you would just lay in front of the TV again, and the park was a far walk from here, so by the time you would get there your coffee would be finished. You scanned the bakery again, hoping to find an empty seat when something caught your eye.

The man from the lobby was sitting at the far corner table, sipping on his coffee while reading a book. You weren’t sure how he found the peace to do that in a coffee shop. Like before, he looked relaxed and calm, something you were still drawn to. Taking another look over, you saw no one else sitting by themselves.

Dr. Hanson’s words echoed through your head. Make a friend.

Your legs were moving before you registered it, walking over to the man. Before you could think of a way to grab his attention, his eyes were already focused on you. They weren’t cold; they had a cautious undertone beneath the warm amber hues.

Still, he smiled at you softly, closing his book.

“Hi,” you said, wincing slightly as the stiffness in your tone.

“Hey, can I help you?” he responded evenly, keeping a pleasant smile on his face, but you could see him stiffen with you, though you had a feeling it was for different reasons.

“Um…” Fuck, this was a lot harder than you thought. “So-well-okay, I usually come to this coffee shop every Sunday and sit over there,” you jerked your thumb in the general direction of your usual spot. “And I usually sit by myself, but there isn’t open seats…and I guess I could you know go outside…or um go home, but I’m still pretty new here, so I was hoping I could sit with you for today?” You shuffled back and forth on your feet, flashing the man a quick smile.

He stared at you for a moment, still analyzing you. “Why me?”

You blushed. You didn’t really have a good answer for that. “Oh, well…I’ve seen you around before, and you seem to be pretty calm and…friendly…or at least able to tolerate someone while they drank coffee and talked about the weather,”

The man still didn’t say anything, his gaze hardened slightly. You were starting to think this was all a big mistake, but before you could open your mouth and apologize, he spoke. “Okay,” he said slowly, still not trusting you. “you can sit here.” He gave you another small smile.

It took you a moment to register what he said before you smiled back, settling down in the seat across from him.

For a few minutes, the two of you sat there uncomfortably, sipping your coffee. Maybe this was a bad idea. He probably changed his mind about you and now thinks you’re too odd to have as friend. I should just leave… As you went to make up an excuse, he spoke up. “What’s your name? I should probably know you a little better if we’re gonna sit together so it’s not like I’m talking to a brick wall.”

You giggled at his comment, “My name’s y/n y/l/n. What’s yours?”

“Mitch. Mitch Rapp.” You nodded, repeating the name to yourself under your breath. “How long ago did you move here?”

“Oh, I’ve only been here for a few months now,” you said.

“Ah, so that’s why I only just now saw you at O’Neil offices,” Mitch said smoothly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, “O’Neil?”

“O’Neil offices yeah, for therapy?”

Your eyes widened; your stomach dropped as you flicked your eyes down.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…” Mitch said softly as he gave you a worried look.

“No, no its fine it’s just…I always thought you weren’t supposed to talk about it…” you said, lowering your voice as you talked.

“Oh no, not at all,” Mitch visible relaxed. “I mean, it’s about whatever you feel comfortable with, so if you’d like I’d never bring it up again, but you don’t have to think about it like it’s a bad thing that you’re going or something that you have to keep a secret. It’s for you, and for whatever reasons you’re going.”

“How long have you been going?”

“A little over a year now,” he said. “I, uh, probably should’ve started awhile ago, but better late than never.” Mitch took another long drink of his coffee.

“So…it gets easier?” you asked, voice small.

“Eventually. It takes a lot of work, and a lot of patience. I’m not even where I want to be, but you know, it’s about setting goals for yourself, and you’re always adding and changing them, no matter how big or small they are. My biggest goal right now is to one day look back and see just how far I’ve come, you know?”

You smiled at him. “That…that sounds like a great goal to have,” you said. “I might steal it from you,”

Mitch laughed, and it confused you for a moment before you realized he laughed at the joke you made. It’s been so long since you had any friends you had forgotten what it felt like. You decided to be brave for a moment, “Um, what kind of coffee is that? I’ve always been a big coffee fan and love trying new ones,” You both smiled at each other.

You two stayed in that coffee shop for a while, talking about little things. To some, it may have seemed like a meaningless conversation, but for the both of you, it meant everything. For you, it was another step in taking back your life and placing roots in a place that maybe one day you could call home. And though you didn’t know it, Mitch was opening up to you slowly in a way he hadn’t done with anyone else in a long time. It felt like a positive step, for both of you.

Mitch’s sense of humor was darker than you expected, but so was yours, especially after everything that happened. You laughed and smile more in the short time with Mitch than you have in the past two years of your life. Maybe longer. It felt easy and comfortable, like perhaps you two have known each other your whole lives.

After a particularly long set of giggles, you finally managed to ask, “So, what do you do for a living?”

“Oh, I’m a CIA consultant,” Mitch answered, twirling the now empty coffee cup in his hands.

Your eyebrows shot up, “Holy shit! That’s really impressive,” and you truly thought that. Normally, someone with a violent job like that terrified you, but for some reason, you weren’t scared of Mitch.

“Yeah. A while back I used to work in a Special Forces part of the CIA, and I’m sorry but I can’t tell much more about it, but we would travel a lot and would be involved in the more serious cases. I can’t go into too much detail for obvious reasons, but it kept me distracted. I…had gotten into it for the wrong reasons, so after a few years of doing it I just felt…really empty. And I hated that. I guess you could say my passion for going out into the field had died down. It didn’t satisfy me anymore, and I wasn’t getting…what I wanted out of it. So, I moved to the desk job version of it. Now, I’d only go in the field if it was extremely serious, but they haven’t used me yet. After I moved to that desk job, I started going to therapy. Now here I am,” He gestured to the café you were in. He shifted in his seat, “I, uh, haven’t, told many people that…”

You blushed, before settling on another bold move. You reached out your hand, “Um…can I?” Mitch nodded, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed it and squeezed it gently. “I’m…I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me. And I get that, you know…the empty feeling…”

If you were really honest, this was the first time you had felt something in a long time. Even if it was just the start of your friendship.

Mitch squeezed your hand back, and you two left it like that on the table. The back of your said that this wasn’t something friends do, but you weren’t really listening to it. Instead, you two sat that, not saying another but not needing to. You could tell that Mitch was holding something back, but you couldn’t blame him. It’s not like you were being an open book yourself.

“What about you?” Mitch asked.

“Well, right now, I’m a secretary at the office down the street. I hope one day I could save enough money to go back to school, so I can finish my degree and become an elementary teacher,” your brain caught up to you, and you realized that you hadn’t told anyone about that dream, not even Dr. Hanson. Your heart quickened just a little bit. Why do I trust him so much? He’s a bigshot CIA member, he probably thinks that’s stupid…

However, Mitch smiled genuinely at you. “I can see that for you,” he said simply.

“R-really?”

“Yeah. I can read people pretty well, and I can just tell by looking at you that it’s something you’re passionate about, and you’d be really good at it,”

Happy tears sprung in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. Dr. Hanson always said she thought you were strong and brave, but somehow you wouldn’t believe her simply because she was your doctor. She was supposed to hype you up and say those things. But hearing that from someone you felt you had made a genuine connection with? It was something you hadn’t heard in a while, and it made you feel that maybe your dreams weren’t worthless after all.

“Thank you for saying that, Mitch. It…means a lot,”

“Meant every word, and I’m an extremely honest person. I promise I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Mitch took a glance at his watch. “Do you live far from here? I would love to keep talking but I have a phone meeting at three that I can’t miss.”

You raised an eyebrow, fishing out your phone, “Three? But it’s only-“ you cut yourself off. It was 2:33. “We’ve been here for three hours?” you exclaimed.

Mitch chuckled, “Yep. Time flies, right? I can walk you to your apartment building, if you don’t mind. Do you live far?”

“Oh, just around the corner,”

You two left the coffee shop, still making some small talk to each other until you arrived outside the apartment building. Mitch turned to you, another soft smile on his face.

“I had a good time. We should do this again.”

“Absolutely! I had a wonderful time,” you said. And it was true, you did.

“Can I have your number then? I’d love to meet up for coffee next Sunday again,” Mitch was pulling out his phone.

“Oh, of course yeah!” you said happily, pulling out your phone. Your mood faltered slightly when you looked at the four pitiful contacts you had in your phone: Dr. Hanson’s number for emergencies, your boss’s number, your landlord’s number, and the only number Jake could never get you to delete.

Mom

You stared at your mother’s contact screen of the two of you together, big grins on your faces while the two of you had been vacationing in Rome. Your mom was always your biggest supporter, and you would never forgive yourself for the things you said to her that night.

Quickly, you pressed the ‘Create A New Contact’ button, looking up at Mitch. If he saw the contact list, he didn’t say anything, which you were grateful for. The two of you exchanged numbers.

“Okay, I’ll text you alright?” Mitch said, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“I’d like that,” you said with a smile.

Mitch stepped towards you and wrapped his arms around you in a hug. You froze for a second, unsure of what to do before melting into it, wrapping your arms around his neck. This feels nice, you thought, and you could’ve stayed like that for the rest of day.

Instead, Mitch pulled back, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead that caused your heart to flutter in a good way.

“See you around,” Mitch said, stepping away and giving you a wave.

“Bye!” you waved back at him as he turned around and walked in the opposite direction. You stood there for a moment, watching him leave before you entered your building.

Walking through your apartment door, you realized a few things: 1. You were still smiling from the hug Mitch gave you. 2. On the walk home, you two had held hands then too, and 3. In the entire time you were talking to Mitch, you hadn’t picked your fingers once.

You sighed happily as you set down your things and headed for the couch. For the first time in a few years, you had had a good day.

#mitch #mitch rapp #mitch month #mitch month fics #mitchtober #mitch rapp x reader #mitch x reader #angst #american assassin #stiles #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #dave hodgman #sam taylor #love and monsters #dylan o brien

153 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

blurred lines | dave hodgman

word count; 9237

summary; a few miscommunications almost ruin something that could be phenomenal.

notes; I had this idea, and I really liked it, so i just rolled with it. this is the dave insert for my birthday week celebration/7k follower milestone.

warnings; smut, public sex, car sex.

There weren’t many people that were more popular than Jane and her group of friends. They were like high school elites, and yet there was always that even more exclusive tier, those who were for all intents and purposes, teen royalty.

As he was saying, there weren’t many people more popular than the likes of Jane, Stanwyck and Brianna. However, Dave could without a doubt say that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was.

She had more likes on just one of her Instagram posts than that of all of Dave’s posts combined. If he added the combined sum of Big C’s and Simon’s, they’d probably still fall short, even collectively. There wasn’t a student or teacher that disliked her. She was well known not only in his own school, but in others too. Even Aubrey knew of her and liked her, and that was saying something, because Aubrey had a twisted sense of importance and political standing in every view of it.

That was why Dave couldn’t quite understand exactly how he’d gotten himself into this position.

Well, that’s a lie. He knew exactly how he got himself into this dreadfully embarrassing position, that would likely ruin not only the remaining months of his senior social life, but was so colossal that it may well actually follow him to college, too.

See, it had all started three days ago, a Monday lunch-time just like any other, as he sat pouting into his basket of curly fries as Simon once again scrolled through Aubrey’s latest uploaded pictures on Instagram with her new boyfriend and shaming him in an attempt to feel better. Dave was fine, he’d moved on, truly, but Simon clearly hadn’t, and needed his own closure on the situation.

It soon followed with “so David, which of all the lovely ladies in this school are you going to take to the dance, because you have two tickets, a dashing suit, and I refuse to let you waste them,” which had prompted Dave to snort a laugh, and make a joke about asking the heartbreaker (Y/N) (Y/L/N) dance, since he had nothing else to lose.

Apparently, he’d still had a shred of dignity, which was curling up and dying with every second that passes him by, but back to how this all came to be;

Unfortunately for him, his ‘good friend’ Jane had passed by at exactly that moment, and had been just thrilled at the prospect of him finally asking out the girl he’d “been pining over so long I thought you were going to turn into Ryan Gosling and rebuild he a house out in the country after hanging from a Ferris wheel”, which still left a bitter taste in his mouth, because how had the girl picked up in his pining for you, but never once picked up on the feelings he’d once held for her?

Despite that, a collection of kids Dave wasn’t confident in the names of but often followed Jane around had seated themselves at their table, and Jane - in all her innocence and confusion - was excitedly telling them about how Dave was finally going to ask out his crush.

That was exactly how he found himself here, almost two days later, feeling all pairs the eyes in the more-crowded-than-usual corridors as he leaned against your locker and tried to look as casual as possible as he waited for you, as though it wasn’t scaring him shitless and making him sweat like a sinner in church. He pulled at the collar of his shirt with one finger, trying to distract himself from all the people watching and whispering, waiting to see if Dave Hodgman could, in fact, score (Y/N) (Y/L/N), or if more likely, he was going to be rejected in a pile of flaming shame and the crumbling of what shredded remains he had left of his dignity.

“Hey, Dave.”

He felt like a moron. A moron that had been looking the wrong way down the corridor and now you were standing behind him, leaning back with a small laugh to avoid being hit when he spun around to face you with such speeds that his own head was spinning. “Hey! Hi! Hello!”

He cringed visibly at his ridiculous greeting, the confidence he’d held was slipping from him with every passing second, and you did a better job of avoiding the lingering gazes in the halls than he was, you barely seemed to notice them as you allowed him to step out of the way of your locker so that you could swap out your books, but he supposed you were used to it. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you, there are some rumours flying around.”

He wished he could hate the way you were teasing him, but he couldn't. It was playful, not mocking, and you were offering him such a friendly smile and making him feel comfortable once again, and he just couldn't find it within himself to dislike any part of you. “Yeah, I had a question for you..”

“You had a question for me?”

“I suspect you already know what it is” His shoulders sagged, he felt himself giving up, the stress and pressure were just too much, but he at least wanted to be able to walk away with dignity after his inevitable rejection, he didn’t want to be seen running through the halls in order to escape your soft voice trying to let him down gently.

“Will you say it anyway?”

He fixed you with a studious gaze, unsure as to what your angle was, but gave you a stiff nod anyway, and hooked his thumbs through the straps of his backpack as he stood tall. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to the ‘Night In Vegas’ dance with me? As my date. Y’know.. um.. yeah.”

“I’d love to.”

He gaped at you - blinking once, twice, three times - before his face was splitting in a grin, and he cleared his throat. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Woah.” You seemed to find amusement in his reaction, and you pulled his hand up to you and plucked a pen out of your bag, uncapping the lid with your teeth and moving the nib towards his skin, beginning to write down your number. “God, I was so nervous, and now I feel stupid. Nobody thought I would get you, not even me, and all these people are here an-”

“Get me?” Your pen had stilled on his skin, and he looked back at you, shrugging his shoulders as your face seemed to take on a neutral expression, unreadable as you watched him.

“Yeah. You’re like.. really popular, and pretty, and just way out of my league. Nobody really thought you’d go for me because it’s normally the other guys you want. Guess I’m proving everyone wrong.” Your expression flickered with something he couldn’t quite understand, but you were soon offering him a polite smile and finishing your number, dropping his hand again and tucking your pen back into your bag.

You stepped back from him, letting out a small sigh and glancing around everybody that was gathered around you, not-so-subtly listening in on the conversation. “Okay, well, text me. We can sort out details. I have to go, but we’ll chat soon?”

He nodded his head moving before he could control it, and he watched you walk away with a small grin on your lips. “For sure! I’ll text, soon! See you later!”

“See’ya, Dave.”

The weeks between the day he’d asked you and going to the dance had been filled with texts at night and flirty smiles in the corridors, and Dave couldn't be more excited as he pulled on his suit. It was odd, he thought he’d clicked with Aubrey more than he’d ever click with anyone, and yet even from the simple things he’d managed to learn about you during your conversations, he felt more of a bond with you than he ever had with anyone else.

You were like an enigma, you were a little bit confusing and you often ran him in circles, but he liked trying to work you out, as if knowing you was the prize at the end of a challenging puzzle. He told you as much as he could about himself, wanting to share everything he could with you. He had felt awkward and slightly robotic in the way he went about his conversations with you, to begin with, simple texts to ask you how your day was and what you were up to, but soon enough it had resorted to one of you starting a conversation with you about anything. The jokes on the back of biscuit wrappers, something that had happened in his day, movies on the TV or even just to complain.

The two of you would sometimes even be found talking in the corridors, sharing laughs and jokes, and he found himself falling for you a little more with each passing day. He was all but buzzing with both nerves and excitement, brushing his open palms down and over his tux jacket, Stella tugging on his pants as she whined for attention, but he was too nervous and too busy to play barbies with her right now, and she just wanted him to do the deeper voices of the only male one she owned when he made his rare appearance at ‘the dreamhouse’.

A flower in a box sat on the shelf under his mirror, his fingertips still a little sticky with the gel he’d used to style his hair, and so he didn’t want to touch the corsage yet and smear it with the substance. He’d planned or get ready early, his plan to pick you up at eight was not going to be ruined because he lost track of time in the shower and ended up being late. He had one chance, and he didn’t want to fuck it up. Now, though, it seemed he was ready a little too early, because he was stuck with a good thirty-minute wait before the earliest acceptable time to come and get you would roll around, and he had nothing else to fill his time with.

He was dressed, and ready. Clean and freshly styled and just enough of his special occasion aftershave spritzed on his skin to be alluring but no overwhelming.

Okay, maybe he had a little bit of time to play barbie dolls with Stella.

With fingers tapping on the steering wheel, he peered up at the driveway to your house, watching as the clock ticked over onto 7 PM, and he let out the breath he was holding, letting the smile that had been pulling on his features finally come free, as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, a finger under his collar to tug it loose for a second as he pulled up the string of messages the two of you had been exchanging.

hey cutie. i’m outside.

The little speech bubble at the bottom of the screen danced for a few minutes, the nail of his thumb caught between his teeth as he waited for you to respond, but soon it just disappeared. He waited, and waited, and soon five minutes had passed and he was beginning to worry for what was happening, the thoughts that this all may just be an elaborate joke was slipping into his mind when your front door opened, closing only a second later as you came walking down the driveway with a smile on your face.

He hurried from his seat, rushing up to meet you with the corsage in his hands, and you paused upon seeing it, before your eyes were finding his, wide and wondering as you closed the gap between you until you were standing right in front of him.

“Is that for me?”

“Yeah! Yeah.. you said you were wearing a gold dress, and I couldn't find a gold flower, so I got a white one, but it does have a cute little tassel on it that matches the fringe-tassel thing you have going on and-” He cut himself off with a series of stutters and breath sighs when you kissed his cheek, your thumb coming up a second later to clear away the red lipstick print you’d left on his skin from the freshly applied coat that was still a little wet. “I could have come up and met you, at the door. Do you want me to meet your parents, o-”

“It’s good, Dave, really. Let’s just go have fun, okay?”

He swallowed, glancing between your gaze and the front door, before giving it up and nodding, cracking the box open to present you with the flower to put on your wrist. “Sure, I can’t wait.”

He held the door for you, held your hand as you stepped into the car, and made sure you were settled before he got in on his own side. He was determined to be the perfect gentleman. This was his one shot to prove to you how good the two of you could be together, and he wasn’t willing to mess it up. When he got into his own seat and clipped his safety belt in, you were fiddling with the dials on the dashboard and tinkering with the radio channels, switching over to the CD he had in, and his cheeks flared a little as you looked over the back of the CD case at the songs. “You mind if I pick the music?”

“Knock yourself out, babe, whatever you want.”

You nodded offering him a wide grin as he set the car off into motion, and he peeled away from the sidewalk outside your house to head toward the school. It was a short drive, but he couldn’t help but notice every little thing you did that only made you seem more like a regular person to him, and not like someone who was miles and miles out of his league, it made him feel calmer, like this wasn’t all just some big and elaborate prank that was the punchline of, but instead like he was here with a pretty date to have a great evening.

Your fingers tapped along on your leg in time with the tune, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you, and before he knew it, he was pulling up in the back of the somewhat crowded parking lot, trying to find a space that wasn’t too close to the crowds gathering around the doors, and you were brushing your dress down and stepping out the car, grinning as you looked between him and doors.

Shooting a quick text to Simon and Big-C to let them know that he was here, he tucked the device into his pocket, offering his arm to you and grinning when you accepted it. His friends met the pair of you at the door, and this was the nervous moment he’d been waiting for.

Simon was quiet for all of two seconds, before he was smirking widely and holding his hand out to introduce himself, the slew of comments neither of you would be able to avoid all night beginning to pour from him without hesitation; “Simon Daldry. You look absolutely ravishing tonight, far better than Aubrey ever did, you really traded up, Davie-boy.”

“Don’t call me that, and don’t talk about Aubrey.”

“No, Davie-boy, do spill. Who’s Aubrey?” You turned to him, a teasing look on your face and he sighed, raising his eyebrows at him, his eyes flicking down to your hands when he felt your fingers slide down his arm and lace with his, squeezing encouragingly. You were telling him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to share if he didn’t want to, but you were staring at him intently and still giving him that look that was giving him the confidence to be by your side all night, and so he caved.

Instead of voicing his history himself, though, he turned to give Simon a pointed look, and Big-C clapped him on the shoulder as the shortest boy all but vibrated with glee at the chance to tell you the story.

“Aubrey is our dear boy’s ex-girlfriend. She wasn’t very nice, we didn’t like her very much.” Dave dropped his head back with a groan as his friend took the chance to throw some insults into the conversation and he squeezed his hand around ours to draw back your attention, cutting Simon off as the boy took a breath to start off on yet another rant;

‘How about we go and get our picture taken, yeah? I’ve seen some of the photos on Snapchat already, and they're pretty good. They really went all out; neon signs, props like the strip attractions, there’s even a red carpet.”

“A red carpet? Well, how could we resist?”

He guided you along, your heels carrying you at closer to his height and your strides wider as you expertly balanced in the shoes, thanking him when he held the door open, your jaw dropping form the second you stepped inside with the small group. The bass was beating through the floors and the music was loud, even from the main entrance, the hall holding the dance still a small walk away, and anticipation filled his body.

He may or may not be a sucker for school dances.

The room was decorated with dice, cards, flashing banners and shiny decorations with bright lights. Black, red and white hung from all of the walls, and everything screamed Sin City extravagance, but had been toned down to high school appropriate. The usual red solo cups that were always brought in for the punch and drinks had been swapped out for plastic champagne and martini glasses, which definitely looked funny being filled with the non-alcoholic and red fruit-punch, but it was a fun thought nonetheless, and he was impressed by how quickly it had all come together, being that none of it had been up when they’d been ins school earlier that day.

The flashes of the camera set up in the corner snapped him out from his wonder, and he looked over to find you in much the same way, and he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as you looked around. “Wanna’ take pictures?”

You nodded vehemently, the two of you making your way over to the setup, and bursting out with laughter at what you saw. Big-C was accompanying Simon, who had clearly manoeuvred him into a slightly less than formal dance photo pose. The pair of them were recreating the famous Titanic pose, the one of Jack and Rose at the front of the ship as she insisted that she was flying, and neither of you could contain your laughter as you watched on.

“Simon looks like he’s having the time of your life, but your other friend looks like he’d rather actually be on the ship as it sank.”

“Simon is insane, and I’m really not sure how Big-C put’s up with him.” He shrugged, allowing you to drag him into the queue for photos taken, the words you were running a mile a minute about different poses you could do were going in one ear and out of the other, because he didn’t care what pose you dragged him into, however formal or informal, because he was shocked by how seamlessly you were fitting into his friendship group, and how his friends had known you for less than ten minutes but already seemed to like you ten times more than they ever did his ex.

By the time your turn to take photos had come around, he hadn't heard a single one of your ideas for pictures to take, and simply let himself be guided by the photographer. He found himself standing behind you, hands sitting on your stomach as his arms wrapped around your waist, your own fingers lacing through his own. The first one was a formal shot, the sort of one his mother would have taken of the two of you had she met you, and he knew she’d love it when he presented it to her. In fact, she might actually frame it. He did look good tonight.

The second was a little more playful, his head was tipped up and chin balanced on the top of your head as he beamed at the camera, holding you a little tighter and pinching at your side, prompting your face to screw up and a laugh to bubble up from you as he did, and the final one featured him leaning around you, the tip of his nose brushing your skin as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was more you than him, his face was mostly obscured by his position and all that could be seen was his arms, legs and the top of his head, but he knew it would be his favourite simply based on the was your cheeks had been tinted red and your eyes glistening when he looked at you after hearing the ‘click’ of the camera taking the photo.

“They’re going to be cute photos.”

The pair of you were hurried off of the platform, and took your hand in his once again, the four of you walking along the halls, following the music as it got louder and louder, and he twisted his head to face you, a smirk on his lips and his eyes dragging along you, head to toe. “That’s because there’s a cute girl in them.”

“Dave, that was shocking. Appalling, actually. How the fuck did you get someone as out of you league as her to go out with you when you have lines like that?”

He felt his face blank into boredom as he looked over at Simon, but you simply laughed, pulling him through the open doors and telling him not to mind it, because you thought it was sweet, and your reassurance was enough to give him confidence on his statement one again. Bodies filled the room, some on the dance floor, some milling around the food tables, others sitting at tables and filling the seats.

Lifting your joined hands up, he spun you in a twirl, a surprised sound leaving you before you were giggling, his brows wiggling suggestively as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Let’s start with a dance, yeah?”

You had danced, the two of you swirling around on the dance floor until your legs were aching and you were gasping for a drink. Some songs were upbeat, and these were the songs that the two of you busted out your best moves for, limbs flying in all directions as you cracked up with laughter upon watching the other move, and your hair flew around, pink coating both of your cheeks as the blood rushed underneath, heat flashing around you until you were slumped against one another and holding yourselves up, using your intertwined body for support as you gasped for breath and tried to calm your hearts as tears pushed at your eyes from laughing so much.

Then there were the slower songs, your cheek pressed to his shoulder, or your temple resting just below his as you leaned into him. His arms were around your waist, or his hands in yours, and your own fingers were looped around his shoulders, fingers in the shorter hair at the base of his neck and your nails scratching at the skin softly, lulling him into a feeling of peace so serene that his eyes were fluttering shut, his breathing levelling out, and he realised he could definitely get used to it. He liked being able to hold you so close, and being able to feel you pressed up to his chest, your lips almost brushing on the times you'd look up to talk to him and let your forehead press to his own as you mumbled quiet words of calm chatter between you both.

There were also the more sensual songs, the ones that had too much bass and sliding notes to be a slow song, and it was with those songs that Dave found himself suffering the most, his eyes closing and jaw dropping open, hands gripping your body tightly. Your body would roll into his, your ass pressed to him when you turned in his arms and your body swaying with his own, never stopping him when he dragged his hands over your body, never too much for the public eye but more than enough to get the two of you worked up, and you never flinched away when he began to pepper the bare skin of your shoulder with light kisses and the occasional flick of his tongue against your skin.

By the time the two of you had collapsed in your seats, you had thanked him with a kiss on his cheek when he brought you punch, and you’d pulled your chair up so close to his that your thighs were pressed together, your body facing his and elbow sitting on the back of his chair, fingers once again in his hair and playing with that sweet pattern that made his whole body sag with relaxation.

He’d leaned into you, barely getting a chance to enjoy the feeling of the quiet and intimate moment, the two of you feeling more like a couple than he had ever felt when he was with Aubrey. You simply enjoyed his presence, and you made him feel calm. He wasn’t nervous and sweaty and on edge when he was with you, the way she had made him feel was so entirely different that he couldn't even compare the two of you, because you were unique, nothing like anyone he’d ever met before.

Simon had soon interrupted you both, a deck of cards in his hands as he insisted that you played him in poker, and he pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand as you turned away to face him as he dealt up. The two of you were teamed up, and you had ended up in his lap, balanced across one of his legs as his chin popped on your shoulder, arms tightly around your waist to hold your back to his chest as you held the cards.

Not only had you won the game, but you’d done the whole thing while never once caving to Simon’s trash talk, meeting him with it and raising the stakes until him and Big-C were simply watching on as the two of you playfully slated one another, goading the other to break their poker face as you played, and Simon had even offered you a shake of his hand upon winning, and it was the most sportsmanly thing he’d ever seen his friend do. He was normally such a sore loser, but maybe that’s just because it was you that he’d lost to.

The feeling that he was waiting for the ball to drop, that there was something coming around the corner or a big joke waiting to be unveiled was gone, because you were so clearly enjoying yourself that it wasn’t possible to be able to fake that kind of joy. He was having one of the nights of his life, the flickering of the lights, the beat of the music in the floor, the taste of the fruit-punch hanging on his lips and the feel of you in his arms. You had managed to convince him into taking pictures, the two of you wandering around the room to take selfies with all the fun props and displays, wanting to truly capture the Vegas theme in all its flashy entirety.

His favourite one had to be the picture of you posing under a replication of the famous sign. ‘Welcome to the Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada’ was sparkling above your head as you looked up at it, your hands held out on either side in a way that made it look like you were holding up the sign, in the same way that tourists took pictures that made it look like they were leaning on the Eiffel Tower or holding up the tower of Pisa. It was cheesy, and he loved it, because you were so carefree and happy in the shot.

Being with you made his social anxiety melt away, your own carefree attitude washed over him and it sunk into him, taking it on himself. The lingering gazes and whispers never bothered him, or made him wonder. He managed to let it all go, because his only focus was you.

As the night went on, the pair of you were getting warmer and warmer, fanning yourselves with your hands as the sweaty bodies in the room rose the heat up, and you had only hesitated for a moment when he offered you a walk outside, sighing with what he assumed to be relief, before nodding and lacing your fingers with his as he guided you back out into the cool night, the sky dark now and the stars twinkling overhead.

There were far fewer people now, a few boys lingering on the other side of the field, clouds of smoke rising up around them with no surprise as to what they were doing, but the car park was empty, and your hands swung between you both as you walked along in comfortable silence around the outskirts of the cars. It was halfway around when he finally pulled you to a stop, pushing down the butterflies that were going wild in his stomach, and raising a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing over your skin delicately.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? You’re absolutely stunning.” his words were breathed out on a sigh, and your lips flicked up at the corners.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Hodgman.” He tilted your chin up a little more, watching the way your eyes darkened, and his jaw dropped when he felt your fingers hook into his belt loops, and tug his body towards your own, hips pressing together. Swallowing thickly, he dragged his eyes back up to yours, taking a quick inhale of breath as his eyes got stuck on the way your plump lower lip was caught between your teeth, seductive in ways he couldn't even fathom. “Are you going to do what you’ve been wanting to do all night, or not?”

“Fuck, yeah, I am.” With that, his mouth was descending onto your own, heavy and wet as his wet lips meshed with your own. He could taste the lipstick you wore, and the slightly sticky fruit punch residue in your mouth, the flavour of which only increased when your lips parted for him and your tongue dipped out to find his own.

It was needy and hot, and raw in a way that made his head spin, and one of his hands came up to lace in your hair as he backed you up into the streetlamp only a few feet away, your back arching into him as your skin met the cold metal, and the sound you made in your shock went straight to his groin. It was sweet and low, a little groan that was crossed with a whimper, and your hips were rolling up into his.

His other hand slipped down and around your waist, past your lower back until he was taking a handful of your ass in his palm, squeezing roughly at the flesh and this time, you both let out moans at the feeling. Your bodies were flush now, the heat from inside was back, like a raging fire between your bodies as you rutted against one another, pulling back for gasping breaths before diving back into one another’s mouths once again. Your lipstick was smeared around your mouth and his own, your hair was messy from the pretty style it had been in at the beginning of the night, and you were a picture-perfect mess, the sort of sight he wanted or wake up to, or fall asleep by after a long night of holding you close to him and showing you how much you meant to him.

It wasn’t love, far from it, but the spark that he thought could turn into so much more had never been brighter, it had never felt this good, and he found himself sinking into your bliss with every rock of your bodies and every drag of your lips over his, every sweet noise to meet his ears or every moan he made that you muffled with your own mouth. It was getting heavy, and you showed no signs of stopping and he didn’t want to, but he also didn’t want to get caught with your legs around his waist as he fucked you against a metal pole, because the way you were now grinding down onto his thigh was very clear, and he was only seconds away from pulling down the spaghetti straps of your dress to see whether or not you actually had a bra on underneath your clothing.

“We should.. um.. move. Car? I think we should go to the car.” He barely managed to get his words out, but you were pushing him away from the post, hands tight in the collar of his suit jacket as you tore your lips from his, looking around for the vehicle, and his mouth descended to your neck, licking and kissing along your skin. You seemed to find it, because only a moment later you were pushing him in that direction, his feet moving underneath him and your hand rifling through his pockets for the keys, before his back was meeting cold metal this time, and he hissed out at the feeling.

He forced himself to remove his hand from your ass, fumbling for the handle when he heard the car sound it’s unlocking, and when he finally managed to wrench it open, he was quickly being pushed into the driver's seat, the keys tossed carelessly onto the dashboard and his hands reaching to push the chair back as far as it could go as your own reached for the lever to flatten the seat back.

Suddenly, he was laying down, the door slamming as you straddled him in the vehicle, hair framing his face as your lips met yours once again, and now he was able to get both hands on your ass, and had his mouth not been so deliciously otherwise occupied, he would have been smirking as he groped at the fleshy mounds in bliss. The windows were fogging up, the tent in his pants pressing to your clit each time he thrust his hips up to meet your movements, and his cock twitching in his pants with every squeaky moan you let out, and every breathy moan of his name that sounded out.

Pulling away for only a second, his lips were still pouted, but his jaw soon dropped open when you pushed away the straps of your dress, the flimsy material falling away to pool at your waist, you breasts on full display to him, bouncing as you rocked down into him, and nipples perky and pointed out for him, skin showing a thin layer of goosebumps with your arousal showing clearly.

His question had been answered; you were not wearing a bra. He fucking knew it.

Dragging his palms up and over your smooth skin, he cupped your tits in his hands, the rough pads of his thumbs teasing over your nipples, and an entirely new sound left you, one that had his gut twisting with desire, and a primal urge raring up within him. You pushed your chest up into his hands, your head falling back and your own hands finding his wrists, holding his touch on your body as you rode yourself down onto him, the two of you nearing you peaks, even with the layers of clothing between you, and it took every ounce of self-control he had to still your hips atop him.

“Baby, as much as I love what you’re doing, if you keep it up then I’ll cum and the fun will be over.” His voice was hoarse, even to himself, and you took a steady breath of your own, leaning down to place a softer and gentler kiss to his lips, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth when you shifted away from him.

“Better put the condom on and put that cock to use then, huh?”

His eyes widened, spluttering falling from him, before he shut himself up by snapping his jaw shut and nodding quickly, sitting up with you in his lap and searching for his wallet in his jacket pocket. While he was up, he took the opportunity to shove the material down his shoulders, discarding the blazer to the back seat and popping the button on the front of the leather pouch, rifling through and praying against all known gods that he had replaced the condom in his wallet, only barely managing to contain the cheer of joy he wanted to let out when he found it.

The cards and that note were of no concern to him, instead, he was dropping that to focus on the silver packet he was holding in his hands, a low groan slipping from him as he watched your own fingers dip under the black panties he was only now catching sight of, the digits disappearing from his vision. Your head fell forward a split second later, your foreheads pressing together as you whined his name under your breath, fucking yourself down onto your fingers to the thought of him, and he’d never gotten his belt and pants undone faster.

The car was steamy and hot, windows fogged over to block any sights from outside, and now it was just the two of you, in a bubble of your own making as you barrelled quickly towards the very activities that Dave had been dreaming about since he’d first caught sight of you in Freshman year.

Finally dragging his cock free from its confines, he grinned happily to himself, pumping his already hard cock a few times, before using his teeth to help him tear open the wrapper and roll the rubber down over his shaft.

“Holy fuck, you’re amazing. So fucking hot.”

You flashed your teeth at him in a wicked grin, your hand coming over to take control of his, your fingers slick with your own juices, and he hadn't realised just how wet you were, but now as you were pulling your panties to the side and lining him up with your core, he could feel the heat of your entrance as the tip of his covered cock dragged through your folds. He felt as though he was panting like a dog, drooling and clenching his fingers beside his body, before he was lifting them up to sit on your hips, taking control as you erased him by pulling you down in one swift movement.

You sunk all the way along him, both of your eyes rolling in your head and your body shaking above him as he became fully sheathed in your warmth, and he worried that he was gripping you so tightly it may bruise you. His thighs were clenched and his head was pressing back into the cushions of the reclined seat, letting out a shuddering breath as he tried not to explode just from the feeling of being buried in your dripping cunt.

“Oh my God, Dave!”

“I know.” His words were wheezed out, a playful look on your face as the two of you took your second to adjust, but that seemed to shatter as the look you shared darkened, and only a moment later you were rolling your hips down into him. It started out slow, a series of simple and steady movements that were almost mechanic, the rise and fall of your hips as you moved up and down along his cock, slowly as you grew used to the position and the movements you could make within the car.

Once you had grown comfortable, you were spicing up your actions, slamming yourself down onto him with quick and rapid movements, and then slowing it down to tease him, rolling the muscles in your stomach and clenching yourself so tightly around him that he almost choked on his own tongue, his eyes crossing and hips bucking up into you desperately. He couldn't take it, the way you would drag him to the edge only to let him come back down, but he loved it, because you were with him, riding him in his car after having an amazing night, and he couldn't get enough of the way it felt to be completely and utterly surrounded by you.

You were taking over his every sense, everything he has was given over in surrender, because he was barely holding on at all.

Your lips brushed his, and your movements became weaker, less coordinated and more frantic as you chased your own high as well as his. Taking one of his hands in your own shakily, you folded his fingers away until only two remained, and he watched through hooded eyes and you sucked his long fingers into your mouth with swollen lips, warm and wet just like your pussy, your cheeks tightening around his digits as you soaked them with your spit. Your tongue lapped around his fingers, dipping and weaving between the digits and dips with precision that would be haunting his mind and filling his wet dreams for weeks, as well as the permanently burned-in feeling of your warmth around his cock.

Dragging the slick digits down your body, you lifted up the edge of your skirt and pushed the pads of his fingers up to your swollen and neglected clit, and he took the hint, taking control of his limb again and picking up the pace. Pushing down roughly on the button, he traced his name in jerky and needy movements, a possessive act that he took pride in, rubbing his name on the nub and only making it as far as the ‘O’ on his last name before you were exploding around him.

Your eyes were rolling back in your head, nails digging into his chest through the dress shirt covering his chest, and he arched up into the touch, your orgasm spurring on his own. Your mouth pressed to his, lips working slowly and tongue seven slower, simply dragging over the top of one another’s and tangled together in sloppy patterns as you muffled the cried of each other’s names and moaned out curses, prolonging one another’s orgasms until it was all too much to handle.

When you finally peeled yourself off of his cock and collapsed down into the seat beside him, you had a lazy smile on your face, your body slumping into the passenger seat, and he forced his seat back up into a sitting position Peeling the condom off of his cock and tying it off, hiding it in a handful of tissues that were left on his dash, he placed it in the cupholder to dispose of later, and tucked himself back into his pants, his mind still spinning from the events and his thoughts still swimming with only you, in his post-orgasmic bliss.

He undid the tie around his neck, popping a few buttons on his shirt to allow himself to breathe, and once he knew you’d adjusted your dress and cover yourself back up again, he rolled down the windows to air out the heat in the car.

“So, you can just drop me off at home now, then.”

His head whipped around to look at you, only you weren’t looking at him, you were looking at yourself in the mirror and wiping at the lipstick around your mouth, cleaning your skin up and removing any trace of the kisses he’d left on you, and the sight of you doing so made him rub at his own mouth the back of his hand, wiping away the red smudges on his skin. “What are you talking about?”

“Now that we’re done, y’know? You got me, you got your notch on your belt or whatever, and this night really has been an absolute blast, but I would love nothing more than a nice hot bath and some pasta, now.” He was speechless, he really didn’t know what to say, because right now there was a bitter taste taking over his mouth as he thought about the night, storm clouds coming in as your words settled over him.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He knew he had all but spat the words at you, and he was angered by the audacity on your face to look shocked by the anger in his tone when you finally let your eyes meet his, a light shrug on your shoulders, before you picked up the keys and handed them to him, and he didn’t even look down at his palm as the cold metal met his skin. “Hey, don’t worry. I wanted to be here, I said yes to the dance and I initiated this. A lot of guys try it, want to sleep with me for the popularity boost or cool guy badge or whatever, and I think it’s dumb but you seemed so sad and nervous in the halls, and I figured, why not? You’re really cute, I like you.”

Rage swelled within him and he felt tears sting at his eyes as he let out a breathless laugh, before starting up the car and shaking his head, peeling out of the parking lot in silence. It wasn’t until the two of you had hit the main roads that he spoke over the dull playing of the radio once again. “What, so I was just a pity-fuck for you? Some kind of project, the whole night was a lie?”

“What? No!” Your hand landed on his bicep, but he shrugged you off, never even looking over at you as he flicked his way through the roads, nearing your house as he drove as quickly as the speed limits would possibly allow him to, not wanting to draw out the journey any longer than it needed to be. “I had fun tonight, I told you that!”

“You had fun on a date that I thought was real, and you thought was just something to fill the time with while you were bored?”

“I never said that!”

“Sure.” He sighed, flicking on his indicators as the two of you entered at the top end of your neighbourhood, and he heard you make a distressed little sound beside him, and even though it made his own body fill with sadness and regret, he was still angry, too angry to even consider letting those secondary emotions take over.

“Why don’t we just talk about this, I think mayb-”

“No. Why don’t we just finish this journey in silence, yeah?” He let his gaze flicker over to you for only a second, before he was looking back at the road, swallowing thickly to push down the way seeing you upset expression had made him feel. You did as he requested, and the rest of the ride was filled with tense and awkward silence, and neither of you spoke again until the car was coming to a halt outside of your house.

This time, he didn’t try to be a gentleman. He didn’t get out of his seat and open the door for you, and the evening routine he’d planned of walking you up to the door and hoping against all odds that maybe you’d kiss him was completely dashed, his newly fog-cleared mind full of regret for how fast things had advanced between the two of you, disappointment filling every nook and pore in his body.

You opened your own door, climbing from the car and walking away, the quiet click of your heels on the tiles was all that was heard, and he watched you go, eyes scanning up over you as you stopped in your place, turning and taking a breath as you prepared yourself to speak, but he cut you off before you got a chance; “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about tonight. Despite the impression you seem to have of me, I just wanted to go to a dance.”

Your face seemed to crumple in on yourself, your arms wrapping around your body, and he squeezed his hands on the steering wheel tighter, resisting the urge to rush from the car and pull you in close to him. “I-I..” Your voice cracked, like you were going to cry, and he felt his resolve crumbling, his fingers reaching for the handle of his door as you continued on, cleaning your throat. “I was just going to say thank you, I had a really great time with you, at the dance.”

He didn’t get a chance to speak, to ask you what had happened or why you’d ever thought of him like that, before you were turning on your heel, a near-run as you carried yourself up the driveway, slipping into your house and slamming the door shut. He didn’t have time to think about it or dwell on the thought because soon he was on the road, completely confused and a little bit heartbroken, and just wanting to curl up in his own bed.

Dave was walking at his locker, swapping out the books for his next class and keeping his head low, ignoring all the congratulatory pats on the back and hoots or hollers he had been receiving. It seemed that being with you had been a real boost for his popularity, because guys that have always believed themselves to be too good to talk to him were now stopping him in the corridors to start up conversations, and girls who had never looked in his direction were now batting their eyelashes and waving their fingers flirtily.

He didn’t care for any of it, but Simon was eating it all up as you went along.

He had barely gotten his fingers out of the way of the door when it slammed shut, his body jumping backwards and eyes widening, before he was turning to look at you, his shoulders slumping even further and he removed his bag from his shoulders, distracting himself with packing his bag, waiting for you to shot, or yell, or publicly tear him down. Whatever it was that you needed.

“You said it wrong. You are terrible with words.”

“Excuse me?” A flicker of anger shot through him, and he zipped up his bag with more force than was needed, swinging it up onto one arm and letting it hang there, wiping a hand over his face to calm his feelings before he turned back to you. “I was never anything but polite to you.”

“I know. But when you first asked me out, you said nobody thought you could ‘get me’. You made me sound like a prize to be won, like a notch on your belt. Do you have any idea how many guys try to ‘get me’ just to prove that they can?”

He shuffled from foot to foot, glancing around at the few pairs of eyes that had landed on you all, before a sigh on his lips helped him from his next words. “I didn’t want that, I never did. I just wanted to go to the dance with you.”

“Do you like me?”

“What?”

“Do you like me? In a real way, not a popularity-boost, make it a game, prove to people who looked down on your way.” You were vulnerable as you looked up at him, eyes wide and expression flickering every so often as you tried to appear strong, and his head tipped to the side before he could stop it, a small smile on his lips as he let his eyes scan over you, before he was looping a couple of his fingers loosely with your own.

“I really do, for a while now, actually.” Heat crawled up his cheeks at the confession, but you were giving him a grin wider than the sun, holding onto his hand a little more tightly, weaving your fingers through his until your palms were pressed tightly to one another.

“Do you want to go on a date, then? A real date. Like, to a restaurant or mini-golf, or something.”

He used his other hands to tuck some loose hair behind your ear, risking taking a step closer to you, until you were forced or look up at him as he stepped into your space, only having to whisper as he spoke to you now, the conversation only for the two of you to hear. “I would love that.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“Cool.” His own smile finally matched your own, feeling his heartbeat steadily in his chest as you seemed to relax before him, your defensive stance slipping away, and for a second, you weren’t the popular girl that had always seemed out of his league and too scary to talk to, but right now you were just the pretty girl that he had a connection with like no other. “Can I kiss you in front of other people?”

“I’d really like it if you did.”

His other hand settled itself over your cheek, pulling your lips up to meet his so that he could press his mouth to yours in a sweet connection. It was nothing like the previous night had been. Last night was rushed and sloppy and just a preemptive action towards what the night had become. There was no ulterior motive or further action to be taken now, though. Instead, it was simply a brush of lips, it was the only thing either of you needed, it was an act of reassurance in order to make sure the spark between you wasn’t being ignored.

Your other hand threaded into his hair, your body pressing to his as you pushed up on your tiptoes, being sure he wasn’t pulling away or moving from you, and he let his arm drop to wrap around your waist to support you, to keep your body pressed flush to his your thumbs played together and smoothed over one another’s knuckles with the hands that were still connected. Your lips teased his, the occasional flick of a tongue through the smiles but never enough to go any further, and you were refusing to pull away, until the burn for oxygen was just too much to ignore.

Your forehead pressed or his, a satisfied and happy noise sounding in the back of your throat as you bumped your nose against his, and he let out a breathless laugh, bumping his nose against yours in return, a grin forming on your lips at the gesture. When you finally sunk back down to your height and were no longer balancing on your tiptoes, he was able to press a kiss to your forehead, before your hand was pulling from his to loop around his waist, letting you snuggle into his chest and rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“I really like you, Dave Hodgman.’

“I really like you, too.”

#dave hodgman #dave hodgeman #dave smut #dave/reader #dave x reader smut #dave hodgman/reader #dave hodgman x reader #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien the first time #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien fic #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien/reader smut #dylan obrien dave hodgman

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thelittlestkitsune · 8 years

Text

Play Dates: Part Two. [smut]

A;N: So Chloe @writing-obrien wrote the first part of this collab and she killed it! I’m hoping I did the same! Huge thanks to the lovely @wydobrien for proof reading and making sure it didn’t suck too hard. I love ya’ll and Enjoy! xoxo

Pairing: DaveHodgmanxReader

Author: thelittlestkitsune

Warnings: Smut.

Word count: 5,387

Listen to me. Read Chloe’s bomb ass part here!

It’s just a date. You thought to yourself as you sat on the end of the bed, battling with the contents of your wardrobe. I could wear jeans? You looked out the window, noting the blazing hot sun as you cast your jeans back into the depths of your closet. You sat with your head in your hands desperately clutching to any idea of clothing. Fuck it at this point I’m going naked. You looked over the clothes that decorated your bedroom floor. Maybe he’d like it if I went naked. You shook your head, picking up the denim shorts by your feet. These are cute enough? Casual but still hot if I bent over? Perfect, you looked over your floor, picking up a shirt near your desk. Expert level laziness. You stripped yourself of the pajamas you were wearing, letting them fall to the floor beside you. You slipped the shirt over your head, the shorts sliding over your legs before examining the outfit as you looked in the mirror. Not too shabby. You quickly applied makeup as Stevie ran rampant through the hallway.

He came crashing through your door, his face smeared with chocolate from earlier in the day. “I thought I told you to wash your face!” You sighed as you walked over to him, abandoning your vanity and chasing after him. “I did already!” He shouted, his feet thundering across the wooden floor. “Don’t tell porkies Stevie! You know what Umbridge made Harry do when she thought he was lying!” You laughed as Stevie stopped dead in his tracks. “YOU WOULDN’T!” he screeched, his face drained of color. His eyes welled up, his lip quivering as he balled his fists up. You stopped walking towards him, your face softening as you glimpsed the tears in his eyes. “Stevie, do you think I’m as horrible as her?” He shook his head, his hair flopping over his eyes. “Exactly! But don’t tell porkies!” You crossed the short space towards him, poking him in the side before tickling him. “Tell me the truth then?” He pouted, avoiding your stare as he stayed silent. “I got some more ice cream from the freezer. I didn’t want to tell you because it was yours and I ate it.” He stared at the ground as you smiled. “So you didn’t lie? You did wash your face?” He nodded, his eyes finding yours, big as saucers. “Well that’s okay then. Was the ice cream nice at least, considering I’ll never get to eat it now?” He nodded, his toothy grin illuminating his little face. “It was the bestest ice cream I’ve ever had in my life.” You smiled back at him, ruffling his hair as you turned away.

“Well of course it was, it was my ice cream!” He giggled as he followed you back to your room, taking a seat beside you as you sat at your vanity. “So you’re going out tonight?” He looked at you as you applied mascara, mimicking your funny faces. “Yes which means I’m going to miss movie night. Sorry kiddo!” You had planned to sit and watch the Harry Potter movies with Stevie all night but Dave had texted that morning. He finally had a night off babysitting and you two were practically itching to be together again. You flashed back to that night in the kitchen, a small smile on your face before Stevie piped up again. “I don’t mind we’ve seen all the movies a million zillion times anyway! You’re going out with Dave. I like him, he’s funny and he makes you happy.” He smiled, his tongue poking out between his gums. Kids are more mature than we think. “He does make you happy. You know what makes me happy?” He pondered over the question, his brow furrowed. “Well you really like pizza.” He stated a matter of fact as you laughed. “Well apart from that?” He concentrated again, his tongue poking out as he sighed. “I don’t know, what makes you happy?” You poked him in the side as he let out a squeal. “A CLEAN LITTLE BROTHER. Go clean your face and I’ll make you some pizza?” He dropped from the bench he was perched on. “OKAY!” He ran from the room, leaving you once again in nervous silence.

You finished up your makeup, letting your hair out the pony you’d slept in. You sighed as you picked up your brush, running it through the bird’s nest that had taken refuge on the top of your head. Not ideal. You winced as you hit a snag, your head jarring. Your phone buzzed against the wood of your desk and you reached for it, smacking your elbow on the sharp corner. “MOTHER FU-” You stopped yourself, your elbow throbbing as Stevie came hammering down the hallway. “YOU WERE GONNA SAY A NAUGHTY WORD.” His jaw hung slack as you picked up your phone, swiping the call accepted. “Stevie, be quiet. I’m on the phone!” He stood in the doorway, his face now clean of the chocolate he was covered in. “Hello?” You spoke, unsure of who was actually calling you. The brush you were using still hung, trapped in a knot in your hair as you balanced the phone between your ear and your shoulder, rubbing your elbow gently. “Hello Gorgeous.” Your body shivered as Dave spoke down his receiver, the sound echoing through you as you sat upright. “Hi Dave, what’s up?” Stevie mocked kissing in the doorway until you reached over, swinging the door shut. He yelped as you heard him run away.

“It’s about our date. I think I have to cancel. I’m so sorry Kay.” You slouched, your heart in your stomach. “It’s okay, I think Stevie’s pretty cut up about me missing movie night anyway. We can just rearrange? Or is it that you maybe don’t want to go out anymore?” You trailed off, regretting the words that just left your mouth. “Oh my god Kay! That’s not it at all, my mom’s conference got rearranged and now she’s heading out. I have to look after Stella.” He responded, his voice exasperated. “Is that it?” You let out a sigh of relief, pulling at the hairbrush you’d almost forgotten about. “Yeah, I mean I had this whole dinner and everything planned out and I’ve been looking forward to it all day. That and a multitude of other things.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as a chill ran through you once more. “Oh is that so?” You toyed, your voice hushed. “You have no idea, it’s been driving me crazy. I can’t look at an ice-pop the same way anymore.” He laughed, as you giggled. “Well then who am I to take that away? We don’t need a fancy date, we’re not fancy people. Let’s go get a pizza and go to the fair at Elmer’s? You can bring Stella and I’ll bring Stevie?” You probed, finally untangling your hair, a moan escaping your lips. You gasped as Dave sighed. “I wanted to spend some time alone with you, so I can hear you make that noise without the threat of kiddo’s interrupting us again.” His voice was darker, more like honey with a bite. You bit your lip, as your legs crossed. “You’ll get me all to yourself later. But for now, I wanna see you and I’m starved. Meet at Joe’s in like an hour?” You could almost imagine the smile on his face. “I’ll be there, I brought my appetite. Let’s hope they’re serving as much as I can handle.”

You clicked off the call, your face flushed red as Stevie came barging through your door. “Who was it? Was it Dave? Why do you look like a tomato?” He laughed, pointing to your cheeks. “It was Dave and I look like this because I have decided to become a lobster. I do not care for humans anymore!” You formed your hands into pincers as you reached for him, tickling his sides once more. “I don’t like lobsters.” He pouted. “They don’t like you much either. But you like pizza right?” he nodded vigorously. “Well then let’s go get some!” He cheered as he ran from your room, leaving you to pick up the clothes on your floor. “COME ON SLOWPOKE!” He screamed from the hallway as you shoved your jacket on, the edges of it almost obliterating your shorts. “I’m coming SONIC!” You laughed as you jogged through the house, finding him on the floor, odd shoes on both feet as he fiddled with his laces. “Those don’t even match Stevie.” You grabbed the matching one from the basket, pulling them on his feet as you quickly tied his laces. He sprung up before you even had chance to finish lacing one. “Petrificus Totalus!” You pointed to him, his body instantly freezing in place. He glared at you as you finished tying his laces. You shook him to tell him he could move again. “You can’t just curse me like that!” He laughed as he stole your car keys from your bag, running out the door. “You can’t steal people’s stuff like that! Thief!” You shoved on your beaten-up Vans as you locked the door behind you, the sun hot on your back. You crossed to the car as you hammered on the window for Stevie to unlock the doors.

Almost an age passed before you heard the click, the door swinging open to reveal Stevie’s sheepish grin. “Sorry Kay, I shouldn’t have stolen your keys! Can we not play the game tonight? I don’t want Stella and Dave to think we are weird.” You winked at him as you climbed in the seat, buckling yourself in. “They wouldn’t understand anyway. Muggles.” Stevie laughed as he sat back in his seat. The drive to Joe’s was quicker if you passed Aubrey’s, but your stomach turned every time you drove past hers. You turned to the left, taking the scenic route, you had time to kill anyway. Stevie bounced in his seat to the music blaring through your speakers, his little lungs screaming the lyrics. You smiled as you tapped along, your stomach in knots at the thought of seeing Dave again. Everything seemed to pass in a blur as you pulled up to Joe’s, Stevie streaking from the car even before you had chance to unclip your seat belt. You threw your door open, grabbing your bag as you chased after him, coming face to face with Aubrey.

You swallowed thickly, your face draining of color as you avoided her eyes. “Hi Katie, I see Stevie’s not changed much? Still obsessed with pizza I see?” You locked eyes with her, breathing a soft breath of composure as you plastered a fake smile on your face. “Of course he is? He’s six.” You let out a shaky laugh as she smiled. “Yeah, I saw you with Dave the other day, how’s the dating going? He cancelled on you yet?” You rolled your eyes, knowing what was coming. Some bullshit story of how Dave broke her heart, one you knew wasn’t true. “Save it Aubrey, I know what you did to him. I don’t believe a word out your mouth. You wanna know why he cancelled? Cause he didn’t want to see you. He knew you were cheating on him. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of having your cake and eating it too.” You spat, your arms crossing over your chest indignantly. Aubrey huffed, her lips pouting as she shifted uncomfortably. “Everyone know’s what you did to him. He’s so nice and you fucked it up. That’s on you and I’m not you; I will treat him right.” She looked over you, her brow quirked. “Yeah, well just remember. I treat him right first. First.” She whispered in your ear as she pushed past you, her shoulder hitting yours. “Oh and Aubrey?” She turned around, her head tilted up as she looked down on you. “That fall from your high horse might fuck your face up. Buy a helmet and grow the fuck up. And for reference it’s KAY, NOT KATIE.” You walked away from her, heading inside to find your little brother.

He sat in a booth, surrounded by menus, his hands crafting a makeshift mini fort. “Where did you go?” He asked innocently as you slid in the polyurethane booth beside him. “I thought I smelled something bad so I was checking my shoe.” You smiled as you set your bag down, ordering drinks for the both of you. You scrolled down your phone as Stevie hummed under his breath, until a dark mop of hair caught your eye. You heard Stella before you saw her, her laugh tinkling through the dull roar of the pizzeria. “Hi Katie Kat!” She grinned as she climbed on the seat, taking one of Stevie’s menus. He grumbled, but let her as she placed it in front of her, her legs hitting against the bottom of the booth. “Dave says we’re going to the fair!” You sighed, your head in your hands. Stevie fist bumped the air, latching onto you. “Can we go with them please? Pretty please? I swear I won’t eat any more of your ice creams.” He batted his eyelashes, his eyes pleading with you. “We’re all going dummy. No puppy eyes!” He smiled as he pulled a menu out. “THANK YOU.” You had barely taken notice of Dave as he sat opposite you, his dark eyes searching over you. “Hi.” He spoke, a smile playing on his lips. You blushed as you met his eyes, your own lowering as you searched the table for another menu.

“Hi.” You smiled back, your tongue darting over your lips as you drank in the way he looked. Tight black shirt, stretched thin over his biceps and dark denim jeans, frayed at the ends from excessive wear. You sighed, your ribs being poked by tiny fingers. This is going to be a long night. Dinner went by faster than expected, the kids were too hungry to really talk and you felt like you couldn’t talk for fear of moaning with the way Dave was eyefucking you from across the table. He paid for dinner as you walked out the restaurant, a child attached to each arm. “Do we have to drive to Elmer’s?” Stella chirped as Stevie pulled harder, urging you to walk faster. “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask Dave.” You spoke as he strolled alongside you, his hands in his pockets. “Okay so we can walk there as long as I can walk with Kay. Deal?” The kids squealed as they released your arms, running ahead down the sidewalk. “Thought you liked driving Dave?” You probed, your hands finding his as you walked. “I do, but sometimes I like to slow it down and enjoy things as they come.” You didn’t know if it was your oxygen deprived brain or his deliverance, but he seemed to linger on the word come. You shivered, even though the breeze on your skin was warm.

You walked in silence before bringing up the whole Aubrey situation. He seemed less pained as you told him what you said, his eyes lighting up as you babbled. “You do bitch so well baby.” He leant over as you relaxed into his side, falling perfectly in step with him. His lips coasted your cheek as you heard the wind pick up the distant chimes of the fair. The kids ran off, their little legs almost going supersonic speeds as they raced towards the twinkling lights and thundering music. You caught up with them easily, Dave’s hand gripping yours as wind whipped through your hair. You lined up, nestled in his arms as you paid admission, the kids pulling excitedly at your hands. The lines were long but Dave made time go by faster, his wit and humour making every minute go by in a blink. The kids pleaded to go on the giant funhouse, only made available for kids under ten. You let them, asking the supervisor there to keep an eye on them as you made your way around, looking for something to pass the time as they wore themselves out. You passed a rickety old tunnel ride, the red and pink lights flashing as you grinned at Dave. “Please?” You batted your lashes as you pointed to the sign, his eyes lighting up. “Tunnel of Love? It’s like the lamest ride here, plus it looks half broken down.” You pouted, pulling out the puppy dog eyes. “But what about the ferris wheel?” He pointed behind you as you whipped around. “I hate heights.” You turned back to him, pulling him flush against you. “Plus if we go on the tunnel of love, we can just make out the whole time. No interruptions.” You whispered as his hands gripped your hips.

You crushed your lips to his, his tongue darting over yours as he groaned. “Well then what are we fucking waiting for?” His voice was whiskey and silk as it coasted over you, his hands pulling you to the entrance. You paid your entry, sitting in the crappy plastic seats as you made your way into the darkness. You didn’t waste a minute, coming together as soon as you disappeared from view. His hands found your waist, his fingers balling the material up as he gripped you to him, your legs entangling. Your breathing made you dizzy, his breath intoxicating as his lips left yours, dragging hot wet kisses down your jaw and over your neck. You squirmed, desperate for more your head rolling as his lips found your collarbone. “I’ve been thinking about this all fucking day.” He breathed, his teeth grazing your skin. “I’ve been thinking about this all fucking week in fact.” You sighed as his fingers played with the zip of your jacket, his hands reaching up to pull it from your shoulders. You shivered slightly as it dropped to your waist, his hands palming over you as his lips found yours once more. You inched closer to him as the ride ground to a halt, your attention otherwise occupied as his hands roamed your body.

He was everywhere, lighting everything on fire, an unholy flame raging through your veins as you shook. His lips left yours as you both gasped for air, hands on legs and shoulders as you came together. His hands coasted over your hips as he pulled you onto his hips, your legs straddling his as you ground against him, his cock hard against the material of his jeans. You smiled, as you reached between your bodies, your hand running over his growing bulge as he groaned. The sounds he made were lost in the cacophony of love songs playing on the overhead system. You drowned them out as you buried your head in his neck, placing soft kisses against his mole speckled skin. He rolled his neck as his hands coasted over your ass, kneading and gripping you tighter to him. You don’t know how long you stayed buried in his neck but you came up gasping for air as he dragged your shirt up your torso. The lighting was so dim you could barely see an inch in front of you but you could swear you could feel his eyes on you. He moved quickly, pulling your shirt from you completely, his mouth replacing the cotton as he licked over your breast, rough fingertips pulling the lace from you. You stopped him, reaching behind you to unclasp it before letting it fall to the floor. “Fuck.” He whispered, his lips connecting with your skin. You lit up like a circuit board, his lips the ignition for the spark than ran through you. His lips dragged across the valley of your chest, his tongue rolling over your nipple before he took it between his teeth, his lips latching as you surged towards him.

Moans fell from your lips as you rocked atop him, his cock rubbing the material of your cutoffs in such a way; that if you carried on, there would be no coming back. He paused as his hands coasted over your spine, nails leaving ragged red marks as he moved, his mouth now giving attention elsewhere. Your breathing was ragged as your fingers danced over the fabric of his shirt, fingertips intertwining with dark hair on the bottom of his stomach. His breathing caught as you pulled the material up, his warmth leaving yours as he pulled it over his head. You bit your lip as you palmed over his chest, barely making out the constellation of freckles in the dim lights. “Either get rid of the shorts or I will do it for you.” He spoke, his voice cracking. You nodded as you rolled back to your seat, your shorts already half way down your legs as his hands raked over you. He started innocently enough, half finished patterns on your thighs, his fingers snaking over the sensitive skin on the inner half. You sighed, rolling against the plastic wishing for more than just his hands. Not that you were complaining, of course.

His hands were magic as they moved over your skin, electric and fire and holy Hell ran through your veins at the lightest of touch. His fingers danced over the lace of your panties as your lip caught between your teeth. You groaned as he pulled away only for his fingers to hook in the band of your panties, roughly pulling them down your legs. His hands were on your hips as he pulled you to him again, his jeans discarded somewhere in the darkness. You didn’t care as you straddled him again, his cock teasing over your clit. “You’ve clearly been thinking about this all day too.” He breathed, his words vibrating over your skin. “You have no idea Dave, you were practically eye-fucking me at dinner.” Your words were punctuated by draws of breath as he slipped over you, his fingers dipping between your folds. “Well it’s a shame we had company, I wanted nothing more than to be eating you rather than the pizza.” You shook as you straddled him, your clit rubbing against the head of his cock. You stifled a moan, the music pausing as he moved over you. He moved painfully slow, his cock drawing circles over your clit as you bit your lip.

“Dave-” You whispered his name as his hips snapped to yours, his cock slipping over you quicker. You sucked in a sharp breath as he raised his hand to your face. He let his fingers trace over your cheek and your jaw before his fingers grazed your lips. You understood immediately, wrapping your lips around his fingers, your tongue rolling over them. He groaned in the darkness, his cock twitching against your core. “You really have a mouth on you, don’t you, baby?” He whispered as you rolled against him, your body raging in a fire that you were pretty sure was going to consume you. “Dave-” You whined as his hands dipped between your legs, the tips of his fingers brushing against you. It was like kicking up the dust, the flames only licking higher at the lightest touch. He palmed over his cock, using his fingers to rub slight circles against you, his cock teasing at your entrance. “Dave-” You spoke more forcefully as his chuckle filled the space between you. “Sorry baby” He spoke against your skin as he pushed into you, your body sighing in relief. “You’re forgiven” You stuttered out, your breathing shallow as he began to thrust into you. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers leaving half moon ridges from bitten down fingernails. He rolled you a top him, rocking as he thrusted, the combination only fuelling the fire that raged on within you.

Your arms found his chest, palming over him as the coil within you tightened, your head spinning. His hands wandered over your body, his fingers finding your nipples once more as he rolled them between his forefinger and thumb, a groan rippling through him. He thrust harder, his cock slamming against you as you bit back a scream. “I want to hear you baby, don’t hold back.” He whispered as his hands moved down your body, rough fingertips barely touching your clit. You clenched around him at the contact, your head rolling back as he gripped you to him. “I may be an ass man, but when you serve up your tits like this I can’t help but take advantage.” You barely choked out a reply, a mixture of his lips and hands had you spilling out moans. Curses left your lips as his fingers quickened; his mouth finding your chest once more, his lips puckering the skin and marring it purple and blue. Your legs shook as a moan ricocheted through you. “Cum for me baby. I want to hear and feel you cum.” He spoke again as your head fell against the top of his, his cock slamming into you at angles that had you seeing stars. “Dave-” You mumbled, your body rising as the coil tightened. Your breathing stopped as you hurtled over the edge, a scream piercing the stagnant air around you. It echoed as your muscles seized, your heart slamming in your chest.

He moaned, your name falling from his lips in an almost prayer as his head fell forwards. His fingers never stopped their relentless movements, his patterns unfinished as he pushed you towards that edge again. “Again baby.” He whispered, barely audible over the drone of the music. You bit your lip as you rocked against him, your ass moving at double the speed he could manage. “Join me.” You whispered back, using your nose to nudge his head to the side. You kissed along his neck, sucking the skin between your teeth as his hips juddered against yours, urging you towards his release. “Dave-” You whispered against him as he slammed into you, his orgasm crashing over him as his fingers danced you towards your own. You screamed against his neck, the noise only slightly muffled by skin. He held you there, your bodies slick with sweat as you reached for your shirt. You peeled yourself from him as the lights came on, the carriage inching forward at long last.

“How long were we in here for?” You asked Dave as you dressed, frantically pulling on items of clothing. “I have no idea but I don’t particularly care.” He laughed as he zipped himself up. “Dave, I can’t find my panties. Do you remember where I was when I took them off?” His eyes widened as he took his phone from his pocket, his torch illuminating the space around you. “I think I threw them.” he laughed, his face crumpled in a half laugh. “You asshole!” You play slapped his arm as you pulled your shorts on, the denim rough against your sensitive skin. “I didn’t mean to! They were in the way and I was preoccupied!” You sighed as you sat back down, the denim rubbing against you. “You owe me new ones.” You grumbled, settling in the crook of his arm. “Why you know when we’re together you’re better off without.” You smiled as the ride came to an end, the world outside darker than you thought it would be. You stepped out the carriage, stretching out your aching muscles as Dave did the same. A young girl probably no older than 15 came running over to you, her face in a blind panic.

“We are so sorry that the ride broke down! We can offer you a full refund for your trip and maybe some snacks? It usually doesn’t break down for that long.” You reached out for her, your hand gently touching her arm. “It’s okay! I didn’t mind, we barely even noticed. In fact I would definitely come again.” You emphasized the word come as your eyes glanced over to Dave, his hands covering the grin on his face. “Oh thank you! I hope you had a wonderful time!” She smiled as she returned to her station. “Wonderful is the light way of saying it.” You mumbled as Dave walked over to you. “We should get the kids and go home, it’s getting late.” He spoke as you walked hand in hand to pick them up. They came out screeching, their eyes red rimmed and yawns stretching their mouths wide. “Where were you guys?” Stella croaked, her little hands covering her mouth as she yawned again. She reached out for your hand as you walked through the grass. “Me and Dave went on a grown up ride. It broke down and we couldn’t get out!” You laughed, shooting Dave a look as he took Stevie’s hand. “Was it scary?!” Stevie piped up, his eyes wide as you walked on, heading out the fair. “Katie was screaming it was that scary.” Dave quipped, blush rippling through your cheeks.

“Scaredy cat! Can we try and win a bear before we go home?!” Stella squealed as she pointed to the hook a duck sign. “Sure thing kiddo!” You laughed as you and Dave paid the attendant, each of the kids successfully winning themselves a bear. Dave yelled as Stella won 2 in a row and you laughed as Stevie went on to win 2 as well. “We can all have a bear!” Stevie smiled as he handed Dave the stuffed animal. “Aw, thank you Stevie! I’ll treasure it forever!” He smiled, his whiskey colored eyes lighting up at the small gesture. “Well now we have our bears how about we all go home?” Stella nodded, her lids drooping as you walked back to the car. You limped as the material of your shorts rubbed against you, the friction making it hard to close your legs. “Kay, why are you walking like a penguin?” Stevie asked as he watched you, his hand still gripping Dave’s. “Is it because of the ride?” He quirked his brow innocently as you blushed, a deep shade of crimson. “It most certainly is. But don’t worry I’m sure it’ll pass.” You winked at Dave as a smirk played on your lips. You carried on walking until your legs ached and you were pretty sure denim was made of sandpaper. You spotted the car, the kids using the last of their energy to run towards them. Dave and you hung back, your fingers latching together as you spoke. “So maybe next time bring a spare pair?” He quipped, his eyes smiling as he spoke. “Oh so there’s going to be a next time?!” You laughed, using your hand to slap across his chest playfully. “Kids or no kids, I’m game if you are.” You laughed. “Oh it’s on Hodgman.”

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thelibrarianintraining · 6 years

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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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mf-despair-queen · 7 years

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Dylan O’Brien Baseball Week 20gr18

So, back in November, there was a wonderful snapchat video of Dylan playing baseball with his friends one weekend. Our boy was shirtless and he looked too good for words. But I started talking to Camile, my precious twin @minhosmeanhoe, about how amazing he is at baseball and how much we loved his passion for it. She ended up popping out this fic idea that I was so down for, it’s not even funny. A few days later, Hayley, my sister from another mister @sarcasticallystilinski ended up popping out a SECOND idea that I was down for yo.

So, thus spurred the idea to host this wonderful Dylan O’Brien Baseball Week - 2018 Edition. A special two week dedication to Dylan’s love and passion to the Mets baseball as a whole. I figured this would be a great way to lead into the baseball season starting at the end of March.

When:

March 4 - March 18, 2018

How to participate:

Writing anything about Dylan and/or any of his characters and baseball - meaning playing baseball, interviews, watching games, etc. As long as it is baseball themed. This can include, but is not limited to, smut, fluff, angst or combination of the three, imagines, etc.

Creating any edits, fanart, picture edits, gifs, or anything else that gets you going.

Tag yours truly so I can see your posts and comment/share them! I want to see all the brilliant creations you have!

Make sure to use the hashtag #Dylan Baseball Week or #Baseball Week 20gr18 so everyone else can find all the amazing content too.

My Personal Contributions:

Two Dylan O’Brien Fics, as noted below. I will do one a week, no specific posting days, but these will definitely be coming up.

Play Ball (Dylan O’Brien) - Dylan sure does love his baseball, to the point that he is out every Saturday playing with his friends. But what happens when you decide to give him a hard time about it. How will one bet turn out on the baseball field one night?

Ball Girl (Dylan O’Brien) - Dylan O’Brien, the cocky, number one player on the team you’ve dreamed of working for since you were in diapers. When he sets his sights on you, will this love-hate relationship end in a home run or a strike out?

If you have any questions, please feel free to message me! I can’t wait to see you all for Baseball Week!

Till then, y’all, get moving!

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien baseball week #Dylan Baseball Week #Baseball Week 20gr18 #mitch rapp #american assassin #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #thomas #maze runner #i stg #someone needs to write me a baseball fic of the gladers playing baseball #dave hodgman #the first time #stuart twombly #the internship

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huntersanonymous · 7 years

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Day To Day (Zombie Apocalypse AU)

Author: sumcp

Title: Make The Plan

Characters: Mitch Rapp x Reader

Word Count: 6184

Warning: swearing, unwanted touching(trigger warning), mentions of family death, threats, Praying(non denominational, but it’s a small part you can skip over),

A/N: So this kind of has a hunger games feel to it at the beginning, bear with me okay.

Summary: The world has been gone for over a year now, leaving behind few survivors. Of the few left, they formed a community, a safe haven against the virus. Everything has been fairly quiet until now, supplies are running low, which leaves the camp vulnerable. A new mission is on foot, and Y/N gets paired up with her least favorite person alive, literally.

Series Masterlist

Day 438: There were always going to be moments that mark your life. Moments that will open your eyes to see your life for what it is, and moments when you realize nothing will ever be the same. Time will be divided into two parts, before and after, leaving you to choose which part you would live in.

You started your day off like the last, hoping it would be different. You hoped when you opened your eyes you would be in your room surrounded by pictures on the walls with you and your best friend Sammie. You would have open makeup scattered across the dresser, loose papers on your desk, and clothes thrown in the floor where you couldn’t decide what to wear to school that day. You would roll out of bed and go take a shower until the hot water was completely gone, not thinking twice about what a luxury it was.

When you were done, you would have to choose an outfit out of the bunch of clothes in your closet, half of which still had tags hanging off them from where you hadn't even bothered to take them off. You would put a thin coat of mascara on your bright y/e/c eyes and apply some heavy black eyeliner to make them pop. You wouldn't even bother brushing your y/h/c hair, letting it flow freely. You would look in the mirror like every other teenage girl, and only see the flaws.

You would make your way downstairs and your senses would be hit with a wave of cinnamon and syrup. Your mother would be in the kitchen making her famous French toast, and your father would be sitting at the table drinking coffee with a paper in his hand reading about something of no interest to a 18 year old girl. Your little brother would be drinking orange juice and scarfing down his breakfast. You wouldn't even sit down to eat because Sammie had already texted you saying she was outside. You would just grab an apple of the table and yell to your parents a half-hearted goodbye without them even getting a chance to say good morning. That was the routine. That was the normal, until you opened your eyes.

Ughhh, my fucking head. You groaned as you let your eyes flutter open, taking in the sunlight peeking through the tent. You stretched your sore muscles, the pounding in your head making waking up a chore. You took a second to take in your surroundings, as always, but it was the same scenery. You stood up, a sleep deprived yawn escaping your throat as your muscles tingle from sleeping on the hard cot.

Your eyes landed on your little brother snuggled up under blankets in the corner and you couldn't stop the small smile that began to form on your face. You noticed his shaggy blonde hair sticking up in every direction on the pillow, and his dimples that lit up a room when he smiled. You couldn't help but notice how much he changed over the year.

He went from being the annoyingly adorable 12 year old little kid that used to follow you around to a man. You wish he didn’t have to grow up and be an adult now, but we had no choice. His hands look like that of a 30 year old that has done manual labor for most of his life. You glanced down to your hands and noticed they looked the same. Your polished nails long gone, swapped for dirt and grime instead. Man, I could use a manicure.

You shook off the wishes of wanting everything to go back to normal. Normal was gone. Normal was never coming back.

"Y/N?" You heard a sleepy voice say from the corner, and you turned to your little brother with a smile.

"I'm going to the central command for a briefing AJ, go back to sleep." You laced up your boots and pulled your hair up into a ponytail. You didn’t bother looking in the tiny mirror before you left, there's no point, everyone looks the same now. Tattered clothes with permanent dirt stains, boots worn to the bottom, and hair that has seen better days. You dragged the zipper from the tent down and your face was met with a beautiful yellow glow.

You took a moment to watch the sunrise through the trees as you stepped out of the tent, the burnt orange and yellow melting together to form the perfect color. It was the only thing left to marvel at anymore, so much has changed, except the sunrise. It was the only thing you looked forward to, it meant hope, hope for another day. You closed your eyes, letting all your thoughts fade away as you took comfort in the warmth of the sun. Times up Y/N. Time to get to work.

You looked around the camp, an old abandoned public pool in the middle of a small county in California, and at the 50 or so tents lined up on the grounds with people sound asleep dreaming about life before the virus. A time when humans were on top of the food chain, and the army was around to keep us safe. You laughed, in a twisted way the situation was funny. Everyone went around care free thinking nothing bad could ever happen. Karma sure did her damn job.

You started to command as you glanced around the 8 foot fence surrounding camp to the guards. They weren't military, the military was gone. One of the guards holding a rifle was a farmer, the other a garbage man. Everyone was equal here. Everyone had one goal, to fight. Fight for humanity, fight for our lost loved ones, and for our loved ones still around.

"You're late.. again." Bruce laughed, shaking his head lightly.

"I'm always late." You said with a smile. The guard nodded you through the gate as you rushed to the abandoned house down the hill on the outskirt of the fence. You burst through the door and everyone that had already took their seats at the table turned toward you. You regained your composure and gave them your best apologetic smile.

"Now we can get started since Miss Y/L/N has decided to grace us with her presence." Chief Hurley gave you a hard glare, and you had to force yourself not to laugh.

“Sorry Sir.” You hurried to your seat, ignoring the stares from the others, especially from the shaggy brunette next to your seat. As you sat down the Chief started going over the inventory list, but all you could do was stare at the others. There were 9 other people around the table, none of them over the age of 35, well except for Hurley. That was how it was now, the virus attacked didn’t discriminate, but it was also smart. The older generation just couldn’t keep alive.

Our camp was made up of children and teenagers pretending to be adults. We survived the past year by keeping each other safe. Our Chief, Stan Hurley, was an ex-Navy Seal and cold war veteran, not to mention a total bad-ass. He mentioned a brief stint with the CIA, but would never go into detail. His eyes are steel gray, the same color as his soul and he smiled, in the shape of a scowl. You looked across from you to the medic, Simon. He was a doctor at the local hospital. He had a nerdy look about him, with his bulky glasses and freckles that cover most of his face. He is the only doctor in camp, but to his right sits the other Medic Claire. She was going to school to be a nurse but never got the chance to be one.

To Simon’s left sat Mrs. Irene Kennedy, our teacher. You smiled to yourself, remembering her class freshman year. She had a passion for English and with everything that has happened encourages everyone to keep reading. Next to her was her husband Richard who is also a teacher. You never had him in class but he teaches all of the kids at camp math and science. Andrew and Adam were next to them, the twins. They weren't really twins, they didn't even look alike. The only thing about them that were similar was their names and their personalities. They were our everything, because they literally did it all, from Inventory to weapons checks, food prep, and communications.

Last but not least, the generals, the term Hurley used, not yourself. The two boys on either side of you, and yourself were just 3 teenagers who could use a gun, hit a target, and wanted to fight. Luke was on your left and Mitch was on your right. Luke was the superstar, captain of the football team, and homecoming king type. Mitch on the other hand was captain of ‘I don’t care about anything or anyone.’ You, you were the typical teenage girl. You loved hanging out with your friends, going shopping, and not having a care in the world. That’s all different now. Luke and you were friendly. You and Mitch? Well mortal enemies might be a bit over-dramatic, but regardless, you were mortal enemies.

“I know you didn’t spend your time on your hair this morning, so why were you late?” Mitch smirked from your right, and you rolled your eyes. He didn’t get the rise out of you he was hoping for, so he pressed on. “Lukey was late too.. Long night last night?” You snapped your head to Mitch, who was leaning back in his chair as if he didn’t say anything.

“Why Rapp, you jealous?” Luke smirked from beside you, and you gave him a hard glare but he just laughed.

“Not that it’s any of your business, I just overslept.” You huffed in annoyance, but Luke put his arm around your waist leaning closer to you and Mitch.

“You don’t have to lie to him baby, he’s just mad he isn’t getting laid.” You elbowed Luke in the ribs, hard. He pulled back, coughing loud enough to earn the stare of everyone in the room.

“Do you three have anything you want to share with the group?” Hurley barked, crossing his arms over his chest. Mitch leaned up, propping his elbows on the table with a smirk forming on his face but before he could open his mouth, you squeezed his thigh roughly.

“No sir.” You let your nails dig in, as you gave Hurley your best smile. He gave you, Luke, and Mitch a small glare but continued talking. Once Hurley was distracted, Mitch grabbed your wrist, jerking your hand away from him.

“Don’t touch me Y/L/N.” He narrowed his eyes at you, clenching his jaw so the words came out as a growl.

“Don’t be a jackass Rapp.” His gaze reflected yours, the only thing bringing you both out of your staring match was Hurley.

“I don’t know how much longer we’re going to be able to keep people fed. Rations are low, ammo is scarce.. I’m afraid we’re going to have to send two people on a supply run.” Hurley’s head hung low as he spoke, and your gaze snapped to the older man.

“What?” Your throat was closing up at the thought, a quick panic sweeping over your body.

“We don’t have a choice Y/N.. I know after what happ--”

“What happened was my dad died on the last mission Alex, we shouldn’t be so eager to send people to their grave until we have ran out of options.” You snapped, and everyone’s gaze fell to the table, no one bothering to look you in the eyes.

“This isn’t up for a debate Y/N.” Hurley slammed his hands on the table, and you lost it.

“The hell it’s not.” You mimicked him, rising from your chair with your palms flat on the table. You were both locked in a staring match, this one completely different from the one with Mitch. This was people’s lives on the line, something you weren’t willing to risk.

“Okay let’s just calm down for a minute and talk this out.” Mrs. Kennedy stood from the table, her voice soft but demanding nonetheless. You didn’t know how she did it, but she was the only one who could calm Hurley down when he was on a warpath.

“That’s easy for you to say Irene, you got your husband back. Me and my brother lost the only parent we had left.” You knew it was a cheap shot, and you didn’t miss the wince from Richard.

“You think your the only one who’s lost anyone in this shit show Y/L/N? You don’t get to play the victim when everyone at this table has lost someone too!” Hurley screamed, and you couldn’t hold it together anymore.

“Your right, everyone has lost someone and I’ll be damned if I sit at this fucking table and let it happen again.” You inched closer to the man in charge, your anger triggering the muscles in your hand to twitch.

“Then leave. You’re dismissed.”

“Stan you--”

“Irene.” Hurley warned, and she sat back down in her chair. “I’ve put up with her lack of respect for long enough. Being a leader requires making the tough choices, which yes, have consequences. I have over 50 people to look after in this camp, and without supplies we either start kicking people out or we starve to death.. Or worse.”

“We can do something, we can figure it out. The first option shouldn’t be sending people to their death. We--”

“I said you’re dismissed. Rapp escort Y/L/N out of the room.” You saw Mitch getting up from the corner of your eye, and you laughed.

“I’m not going anywhere.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Mitch’s hand grabbed your arm roughly.

“Come on Y/N, don’t make this worse.” He whispered, but your shrugged out of his grip.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You glared at Stan one last time before you left the room, making sure to slam the door on the way out. You stood with your back against the building, trying to regain a normal breathing pattern. Your thoughts were swarming, and you had to swallow the bile that rose up your throat. It’s going to happen again. The names will be drawn, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

You couldn’t think about anything else besides AJ. You should go to the tent and let him know he could be chosen just like their father, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. If you went there, that would make it true, and that wasn’t something you could handle. Instead, you made your way to the weapons shack, ignoring the worried expression on Bruce’s face. When you opened the door, you were quick to find what you were looking for. You grabbed your bow, and an arrow of quivers before turning around and making your way to the empty field.

“Y/N you know your not supposed to go down there alone.” Bruce called after you, but you didn’t listen. The voices in your head to loud for anything else to get through.

Mitch watched Y/N storm out of the room before settling back in his seat. His gaze fell to Hurley who was rubbing his eyes out of frustration. He didn’t know what to say or do, so he didn’t do anything but sit in his chair. He agreed with Y/N, but he knew what following an order meant unlike her. His dad taught him early on the stick up for what you believed in, but at this point, he didn’t know what the point was. His opinion didn’t matter, surviving mattered, and what they needed to stay alive was supplies.

“We will draw the names at 0900.. Make sure to get an updated list of the men over 13.” Hurley spoke quietly.

Mitch couldn’t stop a shiver at the uncomfortableness in the room. Everyone hated this part, but we all agreed to it’s fairness. Sometimes, being at the camp was what he envisioned the old times to be like. In times of war, sacrifices must be made. The kids in camp weren’t raised to be doctors, or lawyers, but soldiers. Everyone in camp learned how to defend themselves, and how to shoot a gun. It wasn’t a lifestyle we wished upon anyone, but it was the one necessary. Mitch was brought out of his internal conflict by a knock on the door, and Bruce barging in.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but Y/N left for the field.. Alone.” Bruce winced, hating to be a tattle tale, but he was worried about her.

“God damnit.. She’s a pain in my ass when she’s not even in the room! Rapp, go get her and drag her ass back to camp.” Hurley demanded, throwing his papers on the desk like a child.

“Why me? I’m not her babysitter.” Mitch rolled his eyes, not flinching when Hurley slammed his hands on the table for the second time.

“Why me? Because I fucking said so. And I know your not a babysitter, because no one in their right mind would trust you with their kid. Now get out of my sight.” Hurley turned around and left the room in the same fashion Y/N did, and he was left in the same spot he had been.

“Luke, go get your girlfriend before she gets herself killed.” He muttered, standing from the chair to look at the prom king.

“Fine. I’ve been trying to get that ass since we started this stupid camp but she keeps refusing, maybe me saving her life from some infected will change her mind.” Luke wiggled his eyebrows suggestively toward him, and he had to stop himself from punching the blonde in his face. Mitch wasn’t used to the anger that swept over him at Luke’s comment, and he most certainly wasn’t used to the sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Dude she’s not a piece of meat.” Mitch grumbled to the blonde, who just gave him a sickening smirk.

“No she’s not, but she is the only girl here our age I haven’t done yet and I’m going for a perfect score.” Mitch rolled his eyes, pushing passed Luke to leave the room and his vulgar comments behind before he did something stupid, like defend Y/N’s honor.

Deep breathe in. Eye on the target. Deep breathe out. Release. Hearing the arrow zoom through the air was music to your ears. You were standing in a middle of the training field, the worries from the camp left behind momentarily as you sank arrow after arrow into a target 25 feet away. The last arrow in your quiver found its home in the center of the target, and you felt yourself starting to relax.

“Damn baby, nice shot.” You rolled your eyes, ignoring Luke so you could retrieve your arrows.

You figured Bruce would tell Hurley you came down here without anyone, and he would send someone to check on you. You made no indication you wanted to talk as you put all the arrows back in the quiver, preparing to shoot again. You felt him behind you now, and the close proximity was making you uncomfortable to say the least. Your level of ‘done with today’ reached its peak when Luke put his arms around you and the bow, helping you aim.

“Do I look like I need help to you.” You tried to shrug out of his grip, but it was stronger than you expected.

“Just let me help you Y/N.” You rolled your eyes, his comment having nothing to do with archery. You stomped on his foot which earned an unmanly yelp from him,

“I don’t need your help, and if you touch me again Luke the next arrow will be in you.” You smiled sweetly at him, the arrow firmly set in the bow.

“Come on Y/N, this is the apocalypse baby.. You and me might have to re-populate the world.” He smirked at you, and you bit your lip suggestively as you sat the bow and arrow on the ground. You walked up to him swaying your hips, grabbing the collar of his shirt roughly as you put your lips to his ear.

“If I had to choose sleeping with you to re-populate, the human race would become extinct.” You whispered, pushing him back a couple of feet when you released his shirt. He narrowed his eyes at you, and you turned around to pick up the bow when you felt Luke’s hands on you again.

“Your such a bitch sometimes Y/N, maybe someone should knock you down a peg or two.” His lips were connected to your ear as he whispered in the same fashion you did moments ago.

“Let me g--” You didn’t get to finish yelling at him when you were no longer in his arms. You turned around, watching Mitch standing over Luke who was now on the ground.

“Go back to camp Y/N.” Mitch growled, not even looking at you, his cold brown eyes focused solely on Luke who was now dusting himself off.

“Dude we were just messing around right Y/N?” Luke laughed, and it made your skin crawl. You couldn’t speak, your voice lost in your thoughts of what just happened.

“Yeah that’s what it looked like when you had her pinned in your arms, and her fighting to get out.”

“Defense training.” Luke smiled, crossing his arms over his chest triumphantly. You scoffed at that, and Mitch turned back to you with same glare he was giving Luke moments ago.

“Go back to camp Y/N. I mean it.” You felt your whole body on fire as Mitch stared at you. You didn’t want to follow his orders, but you also didn’t want to be in the field anymore. You bent down and picked up the bow and quiver before turning your back on the two boys. You heard Mitch’s voice, but it was to scrambled to hear exactly what was being said, not that you wanted to know anyway.

“So what’s the meeting about after breakfast?” AJ asked as soon as you came back to the tent. His curious gaze fell to you, followed by a furrowed brow. I can’t deal with this right now. He grabbed your arm gently, but you jumped at the sudden contact. “Hey.. what happened?” Looking into his soft green eyes bore into yours, the same one’s he shared with your dad, sent your brain into a frenzy.

“You look after him while I’m gone okay? He needs you.” You shook your head at your father, tears burning in your eyes.

“He needs YOU. Why can’t someone else go.. Someone who doesn’t have kids.” He pulled you into an embrace, as the tears you were so desperately trying to keep from falling, fell. He hugged you for what felt like an eternity, and wrapped up in his arms felt like the last bit of home you had left. You knew it was selfish to ask why him, because it wasn’t by choice, but by chance he was going. The statistical possibility was a number you didn’t know, nor care about.

“Listen to me kiddo, you got this. Whatever happens--”

“You’re coming back. Promise me.. Promise me your coming back.” Your voice was hoarse from crying as you stared at the ground, trying to avoid his stare.

“Y/N what did your mom always say about promises?” He asked softly, hooking a finger under your chin so you would look at him.

“Never make a promise you can’t guarantee you’ll be able to keep” You stared into his green eyes, noticing the tears in them as he leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“I promise.. I will fight like hell to get back to you and your brother.” You nodded your head, and he gave you one last hug. “I need you to be strong okay, I need you to look after him, keep him safe.”

“I promise.” You wiped the tears from your eyes, giving him a tight lipped smile as he placed one last kiss to your forehead. He made it a point to not say good-bye, and you appreciated the sentiment until you didn’t get to say hello again.

You shook off the memory, taking a deep breathe to gather you senses. Staring into those familiar eyes twisted your stomach into knots, and all you wanted to do was protect him for the cold truth of what was about to happen. You didn’t get the chance to answer him when you saw Claire rushing past your tent.

“Woah Claire what happened?!” You jerked out of your brothers grip, happy to have some sort of distraction. Claire turned toward you with an annoyed sigh, and for a moment you thought it was directed to you.

“Luke was messing around in the field and ended up breaking his nose somehow. I honestly don’t know how that boy even survives.” She rolled her eyes, turning back around to walk to the med tent. Your whole body was bristling with anger, but not because of his name.

You didn’t think twice, the talk you needed to have with your brother drowned out by the sheer force of your anger. Luke was a class A jackass, and you could have dealt with him alone. Your feet found their path to his tent without even thinking, and when you jerked open the flap you were met with all the confirmation you needed.

“You broke his fucking nose?” You yelled at Mitch, watching him bandage himself. You noticed the cuts, which were still slightly bleeding as he wound the gauze around his left hand.

“Yes I did. You’re lucky I didn’t do more.” Mitch didn’t bother looking at you, focused solely on his fingers he was flexing.

“I had everything under control, I don’t need saving. I’m not some damsel in distress and you sure as hell aren’t Prince Charming.” You didn’t know why you were angry exactly, you were glad Luke got some sort of punishment, but you hated feeling helpless, and nothing screamed helpless like having Mitch fucking Rapp fight your battles.

“Listen princess, don’t flatter yourself. You were in over your head, and I stepped in, it’s nothing to get your tiara in a twist about.” You walked up to stand in front of the boy, before poking him in the chest with your index finger.

“I don’t need your help, ever.” You seethed, eyes burning into his honey ones. Just when you thought you couldn’t get angrier, Mitch threw his head back and laughed in your face.

It was a split second decision as you swung with no precision, the only target in your mind was the smug grin on his face. You didn’t know what you expected, but you weren’t expecting him to grab your fist in his hand. He used the forward moment to turn you around so you were pushed into the small bookcase, his body flush with yours and his breath on your face.

“Next time.. I won’t save you.” Mitch dropped your hand, and stormed out of the tent without another word. You slumped against the bookshelf, sliding until you were seated in the ground with your knees to your chest. Your body was trembling, mind running wild in twenty different directions. This is the kind of example your supposed to be setting? Running around picking fights? You felt yourself slowly spiraling in your own anger, and if you were being honest, in your own fear.

Mitch didn’t know where he was going, all he knew was he had to get the hell away from Y/N. His heart was pounding in his chest as he went to the weapon’s shack and closed the door behind him. He didn’t know why he came in there, or when the run down place became his safe space, but he found himself sitting in the middle of the room. He had his feet crossed under him as if he was planning on meditating, and honestly it might have helped.

He didn’t know what came over him in the clearing. He didn’t care if Y/N wanted to sleep with him, that was her terrible judgement, but seeing her fight to get away from him sent him into a fit of rage. He knew she was right, she could have dealt with him in her own way, but he couldn’t help himself. His dad always said it was the Rapp anger that took over, it blinded the men into doing stupid things, like breaking an assholes nose.

In the back of his mind, he thought she would at least say thank you, but of course she didn’t. The thanks he received was a half hearted and thought out punch, which he should have let connect with his face. He remembered the rage of losing his family, the sense of hopelessness. He saw a lot of Y/N in himself, and that was one reason he hated her so much. He hated seeing the reflection staring back at him, the pain, the regret, the anger, and maybe that might be selfish of him, but if it could keep him above water then that was what he would do. Hate her.

You should have paid attention in statistics. You should have listened to Mr. Halket when he was going over outcomes, and the likelihood of something happening. It wasn’t like you could cheat this part, there was no counting cards to win a jackpot, this was the luck of the draw. You stood next to AJ at the edge of the others, foregoing your right to stand in front of the small crowd with Hurley and the leaders. You liked to think it was a silent ‘fuck you’ to the surly man, but you knew he could care less.

You earned your spot at the table when your father died, and you were a pain in Hurley’s ass ever since, always second guessing his leadership and trying to find another plan that didn’t involve serious risks. You reminded Hurley more than once that this wasn’t the CIA, that we were a team and he wasn’t on some mission going ghost with no clear line of attack in sight. He always told you the same thing,

“Terrorists and Infected, you put em down the same way. It’s do or die, fight or flight, sink or swim, you do what’s necessary.”

Your eyes found Rapp’s without realizing it, and you noticed the distant look in them. You continued to look around at the familiar faces of the camp, stopping to stare at the small family closest to you. They had their son in their arms, holding him close as if they could protect him for what was about to happen. You dared a look at AJ, and when you saw him your heart sank in your chest. He stood tall beside you, arms crossed over his chest, head held high in wait. His eyes weren’t giving himself away, he truly was calm and you had to swallow the lump in your throat as Hurley began talking.

“As many of you know.. The supplies have dwindled again and we are going to have to send two people out. We don’t like this part, but we all agreed to it so I’m not going to make some big spectically out of this. When your name is called, please step forward.” Hurley took a deep breath, as Irene held out a gar with dozens of death certificates folded neatly inside.

You stopped breathing as his hand reached into the abyss, and your eyes followed his fingers as he gripped the paper. You weren’t religious, but you prayed anyway. You wouldn’t wish for anyone to have to go through this, so you didn’t pray for the name to not be AJ’s. You simply prayed for a safe journey, and in the inevitable disaster, a painless death.

Hurley unfolded the piece of paper, and the crowd went silent. The air shifted, becoming thick as you watched him silently read the name before closing his eyes. Hurley didn’t display emotion, but it was evident on his face. He was upset. He didn’t show it for more than a fraction of a second, and then he was back at neutral.

“AJ Y/L/N.” His voice rang through the crowd, and you felt everyone’s eyes on you. Your little brother tensed beside you for half a second, and you felt your world crumbling. No no no no no no. He shook off the nerves, and you wanted to be proud of him but all you could see replaying in your mind was your dad walking out of the tent in the same way.

“Like hell!” You didn’t think twice, putting your hand on AJ’s shoulder, pulling him back in line. He gave you a sad smile, and you had to remind yourself you were the adult.

“Y/N the rules--”

“I know what the rules say, and I’m telling you it’s not fucking happening.” You’re squeezed his shoulder in an effort to calm him down from what you were about to do. You walked the couple of feet to the front with Hurley, and turned to face the crowd. “I’ll be going in his place.” There wasn’t a rule against it, and you knew that, but it didn’t stop the murmors from the crowd.

“Y/N no.. You’re not going I can’t lose you to!” AJ started toward you, but you shook your head not wanting to look him the eyes.

“Bruce take AJ back to our tent.” You ordered, and the man gave you a nod before going over to AJ and trying to drag him away from the drawing.

“Y/N! No! Bruce let me go! Chief Hurley please, don’t let her go! You picked me! Let me go Damn it!! Please Hurley! Please don’t do this! Mrs. Kennedy, please! Anyone!” You ignored the screams from your little brother as he struggled to get out of Bruce’s hold. The crowd went silent as you stood in front with your head held high, your thoughts trying to drown out the muffled cries from AJ. Hurley waited until the screams could no longer be heard, before he turned around and read the next name.

You didn’t think about the consequences of your actions, knowing that if you had to choose you would make the same choice every damn time. The last promise to your dad was something you lived by, and come hell or high water, or the apocalypse, you were going to keep it. You heard the rustling of Paper beside you, and your eyes glanced over the crowd. For the second time you were wishing you paid attention in statistics, because out of all the men, the second name drawn seemed to be worse than AJ’s.

“Mitch Rapp.” It was your turn to close your eyes, letting the name sink in. You felt someone shift closer to you, but you refused to acknowledge them. You heard the relieved breaths of the crowd, and when you opened your eyes you were met with sympathetic stares. You didn’t wait for Hurley to dismiss the crowd, you turned on your heels as fast as you could and made your way out of sight.

The lump in your throat came back, and you doubled over behind the weapons shack and let the contents of your stomach escape. You were trembling again, as the events of the day started to organize your mind. AJ’s screams were still ringing in your ear, a painful reminder of your mothers, and you sank to your knees. You were slowly drowning, not in water, but in grief and there was no life raft able to trudge the depth to get to you.

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