#mitch rapp x reader insert
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Okay so can I ask for a hc or an imagine (whatever u like) of what texting Mitch Rapp as his gf would be like. Cuz I feel like he's gonna be a dry texter but then again he's gonna send a few memes and reaction pics here and there
did something totally different with this one!
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Texting Mitch
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Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak
#answered#anon#request#mitch rapp x reader#mitch x reader#mitch rapp x reader insert#mitch x reader insert#dylan o'brien x reader#dylan x reader#dylan o'brien x reader insert#dylan x reader insert
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Only Fools Rush In - Mitch Rapp - Chapter 1
Author: Roseringleader13 Pairing: Mitch Rapp x Reader Word count: 1650 Warnings: None Summary: After losing her mother and brother in a random shooting 17 years ago, the reader has fallen into a basic routine. Get up, go to work, sneak away to ruin her uncles business as revenge for killing her brother and mother to tie up loose ends, go back to work, go home, and sleep while being haunted by the memory of seeing her family die. Her uncle doesnât know that sheâs been sabotaging his work, nor does the man who was hired to take her uncle out, Mitch Rapp. After meeting him, unaware that he is going to be using her to get close to her uncle, will she eventual tell him the truth and try to hold onto a love she wasnât expecting, or will she take him out for getting in the way of a revenge sheâs spent the last 6 years planning and conducting? A/N: So this is the first time in a while that I have decided to try and write a series again and this is set after the events of American Assassin. I have @golddaggers to thank for reading over the first chapter for me and convincing me that I needed to post it rather than have it collect figurative dust inside my laptop. I would really appreciate feed back you guys so please let me know what you think!
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wise men say Only fools rush in But I canât help falling in love with you Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I canât help falling in love with you
Those were the lyrics that you would hear in every dream. The soft hum of your motherâs voice as her thin and delicate fingers would strum the strings of her guitar, the antique instrument passed down from woman to woman in your family. You could still remember the way her beautiful and wavy auburn hair would flow gently in the soft Autumn breeze as those luscious locks would sometimes blend in with the leaves behind her as you would look up at your mother from your young height as she sat on the bench. Her eyes would match the sky above you, seeming so bright and so happy as she sang to you, her youngest daughter and your brother, her eldest son. More often than not, you and your mother would be wearing identical dresses that would flow around your knees while covering the length of your arms. It was a soft green today, much like the rare moss that would grow on the sides of trees just as the sun would shine down on the plant with early morning rays.
Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be
The dream was always a bittersweet moment. For a time, your sleep would be peaceful and soft as it played inside your mindâs eye. Your y/h/c would always be tied up in an adorable set of pigtail braids, y/e/c would be staring at your mother in complete wonder as she sang, tiny hands playing with the edge of your skirt as you listened on baited breath for each word and note to come from her. Your brother would always be in a white dress shirt and be wearing a pair of faded but loved blue jeans, loafers covering his young 13 year old feet compared to the soft ballet shoes on your 7 year old feet. It was always so peaceful and perfect.
Take my hand Take my whole life too For I canât help falling in love with you Until the gunshots rang out. Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be
Then everything was chaos. Your brother was screaming at you to run while blood dripped from the corner of his now stained lips. Each time, your mother's body would be slumped backwards, blood slowly running down the front of her face from that small hole in her forehead, guitar limp in her arms while the back of her head was blown out. If you didnât see the back of her, nor the blood and small bullet hole, you could have sworn your mother was simply asleep.
Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I canât help falling in love with you For I canât help falling in love with you
It all happened so fast, the screaming from both yourself and passing patrons in the park along with more gunshots ringing out among the once peaceful little forest area. You honestly couldnât remember how you survived nor could you remember anything after it. One moment you were listening to your mother sing, then your brother screamed for you to run, then you were sitting on that old and bent leather couch that belonged to your Uncle Michael, the child services handing over the adoption paperwork. Right as your uncle would crouch down and lay a hand on your small shoulder, whispering softly that everything would be alright, you would wake up.
Cold sweat would be drenching your y/s/c pale form as you forced yourself up from the bed, head throbbing in pain as your hands tried to find some kind of purchase on the bedside table so you could stand up. Those dreams always exhausted you each morning despite it having been 17 years since the day your mother and brother were murdered in cold blood on that gentle Autumn afternoon.
Stumbling towards the bathroom in your small one bedroom apartment, a loud meowing sound came from the little black ball of fluff you had named Mystic, clearly thinking it was time for breakfast despite you always taking a shower first. You knew you needed that shower more than normal since the moment you saw the dark bags under your eyes that would need lots of makeup to hide, and the way that there were scratches all over your arms from fighting yourself in your sleep. So Mystic would have to wait just a bit longer. That cat never did respect your schedule, which was always the same.
Wake up in a cold sweat. Shower. Eat breakfast and feed the cat while in a towel. Go get dressed. Grab your purse and keys. Lock up your apartment. Head down to the flower shop next to your apartment building and help water the flowers since Ms. Dunbar couldnât move around as well as she used to. Accept the homemade cookie from her after you were done. Go to the bookshop right around the corner. Slip on your badge showing your employment there. Stock the shelves. Disappear and tell your boss you got distract reading in the back for a good 4 hours. Sit at the front desk since he would finish the stocking. Sit there for an hour. Wish him a good evening as you headed home. Tell Ms. Dunbar to have a good dinner as you pass by her. Go into your apartment and eat dinner. Slip into pajamas. Do research on your laptop until 1 in the morning. Finally go to sleep.
However, you didnât expect your schedule to be thrown for a complete loop later that day while at work.
It was when a low and gruff, but somehow comforting voice, caused you to look up from the book you had hidden under the counter. Y/h/c swished around your shoulders at the sudden movement, having cut it into a short style about 10 years back, y/e/c meeting a soft honey- no whiskey colored iris. Dark brown hair was brushed into a typical style of spiky but soft on top of his head while moles were just barely hidden beneath the thin layer of scruff that danced along his jaws structure that would could probably cut glass. The more you looked at him, you took note of the small scar on the tip of his nose near his right nostril as well as the dark t-shirt that hugged each set of muscles this man clearly had. Especially based on how his biceps seemed to fight the edge of the material and his chest was just the right amount of bulked in your opinion.
âIâm sorry- I didnât hear you.â You admitted bashfully, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you stood up straight and apologized once more for the inconvenience.
âItâs alright. Clearly whatever youâre reading under the counter must be good if it distracted you that much. I asked if you had the sequel to this book somewhere in this shop. I havenât been able to find it anywhere else yet.â He repeated, giving a lopsided smirk on those pink lips as he held the book out to you once more, your eyes taking note of how large and veiny them seemed before taking the literature from him.
âIâve been a fan of the classics since I was a child. I was rereading Beowulf.â You admitted, looking over the title of the book he handed you, typing it into the computer to see if you did actually have a copy of the sequel. If not, you could always offer to lend him your personal copyâŚmight give you a reason to see this man again.
âAny luck?â He asked after a long pause of silence between the two of you, having leaned against the counter as you were searching, unaware of how his eyes seemed to skim over your figure almost appreciatively.
âNo we donât have a copy. ButâŚif you like, I could lend you my own personal copy of it. Give me a reason to see you again since not many men who catch my interest come in here.â You said confidently, giving him a playful smile as you handed his book back to him, trying to hide the pink that threatened to appear on your cheeks when his fingers brushed against your own and that smirk turned into a grin on his face.
âWell I wouldnât want to disappoint a cute girl by never coming back now would I?â He asked, tucking the book under his arm as he leaned against the counter once more.
âIf you come by tomorrow, I can give you the copy and you could easily return it when youâre done. I work here every week day.â The words just tumbled from your lips smoothly, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned towards him yourself, enjoying the light but completely obvious flirting that was going on between the two of you.
âConsider it doneâŚâ He trailed off, raising an eyebrow as he waited for your name.
âY/F/N.â You replied, giving him your first name as you held your hand out for him to shake. âAnd you are?â
âMitch.â He replied, reaching forward and shaking your hand, the firm grip making goosebumps cover your skin. âIâll see you tomorrow, y/f/n.â He added, winking before turning and walking out of the shop, not hearing the soft sigh that left your lips as you enjoyed the sight of him walking away.
Maybe having things disrupt your normal pattern wasnât always badâŚyou might feed Mystic first before taking a shower in the morning.
#mitch rapp#mitch rapp x reader#mitch rapp x reader insert#mitch rapp fanfic#mitch rapp fanfiction#mitch rapp fic#american assassin#american assassin fanfic#american assassin fanfiction#american assassin x reader#american assassin x reader insert#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien x reader#dylan o'brien x reader insert#dylan o'brien fanfic#dylan o'brien fanfiction#dylan o'brien fic#golddaggers
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Safe House
MasterlistÂ
You hated it. Hated every single about this. He was throwing things around and you were standing in the corner. He was screaming at someone on a burner phone.
"No fucking shit!" He told them "I'm counter-terrorism. Not a fucking babysitter!" He paused, "What the hell am I supposed to do?!" Again, he waited, "What? Hell- Hello?" He stared at the phone and threw it against the wall, breaking it into pieces, "Fuck!"
"I'm sorry-" You were shaking with fear
Not just of the situation but of him too. He seemed to have picked up on it quickly.
"Fuck-" He groaned and began to put things back in order, "It's not your fault, okay?" He forced himself to say it, "I'm not- I'm not pissed at you,"
You didn't move. You pushed up against the wall and slid down. Wanting to make yourself smaller. Hiding yourself from him.
72 hours ago, you couldn't have imagined that this could've been your life. 72 hours ago, Mitch had been Thomas and he'd been your boyfriend of three weeks. Now everything was a mess. You knew your father must be worried sick but you couldn't call him.Â
You didn't know how long you stayed in the same position. Maybe you dozed off. It was hard to tell. Reality seemed to only come back to your limbs in a painful way when Thomas- No, Mitch. His name was Mitch now. When he told you to get cleaned up.
You tried to stand but your legs couldn't straighten up. It was like you were stuck
#mitch rapp#reader insert#ao3#reader#fanfic#ao3fic#reader fic#american assassin#dylan obrien#stiles#thomas maze runner#mitch rapp x reader#mitch rapp imagine
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Kidnap
Summary: Mitch Rapp/Reader Reader is Kidnapped and Mitch find a way to get her back
âY/N? You awake?â You open your eyes to see Mitch hovering over you, you sit up a little but before you can thereâs just red clouding your vision.
âWhatâs this?â
âRoses, itâs our three year anniversary so I wanted to do something special for you!â
âMitch, thatâs not for three more days!â
âExactly, so Iâm going to spoil you silly for the next three days!â
âItâs only three years, thatâs not as big as the first year or the fifth one!â You try to counter but he just grins at you.
You stomach flips, you know this isnât part of Mitchâs anniversary plan and you wonder just whatâs going to happen. The fabric around your face is scratchy and you wonder if itâll leave red marks on your face when they take it off. You donât think about it never coming off, about Mitch never finding you.
Theyâre talking, voices low and unintelligible but youâre certain thatâs because theyâre in a different room, not because theyâve actually hurt you. The group, you assume itâs more than two people with how many different voices you can hear; are surprisingly gentle with you, you wonder if someone has explained who you are or if they just needed another hostage.
âShe hangs out with him; theyâre at least friends.â Your stomach sinks lower, you realize theyâre trying to bait Mitch but they clearly havenât done their research or they would have taken one of his actual friends; not his girlfriend.
Time always passes differently when itâs dark and being blindfolded is no exception. It doesnât feel like days, maybe just a few hours before Mitch is pulling off the blind fold his hands shaking as you try to smile at him.
âIâm okay.â You assure and he narrows his eyes before practically picking you up and carrying you over to the ambulance; he rides with you the entire time, refusing to let go of your hand until one of the other agents physically pulls him away from you so the nurses can check you over.
âIt wasnât even a full day Mitch, sheâs fine, they didnât get the chance to do anything. Just go home and spend time with her.â
âY/N you okay babe?â Youâre pretty sure Mitch has asked that same question for the past hour every three minutes.
âIâm alright, better that youâre here.â You press your face into his shoulder and he keeps his arms tight around you.
âSorry for ruining whatever your anniversary plans were.â You mumble and he frowns a little, nudging your face so you look him in the eyes.
âAll I want is to spend time with you, no matter what we get to do, I just want to spend it with you.â
You're still nervous about leaving the house. Mitch had insisted he would take care of everything for your three year anniversary, you hadnât ever thought youâd be scared of leaving the house but here you were nervous that Mitch was going to drag you to some fancy restaurant.
âOkay just close your eyes.â He grins a little as you close them and places a kiss on your forehead.
âOkay spin three times.â
âWill I wake up in Oz?â You laugh and can feel him smiling into your hair.
âSomewhere better.â
âAnywhere with you is better.â You grin a little when he walks forward guiding you, one hand wrapped around your waist.
âOkay open.â Youâre already smiling, but you hide your head a little when you realize just what Mitch has done, heâs set up a recreation of the anniversary date he always takes you on. Normally youâd be going out to the restaurant where you first met and ordering the same meal youâd first gotten.
âListen Y/N; this might not be the place I expected to be on our three year anniversary, but itâs with you, so thatâs really all that matters.â
âMe getting taken mustâve shook you up, huh.â You try not to let your voice shake and Mitch just nods.
âYeah it did, really freaked me out.â He sighs pulling you back into his chest and pressing his forehead against yours.
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#mitch rapp#mitch rapp imagine#mitch rapp x reader#mitch rapp x y/n#mitch rapp x you#american assassin#american assassin reader insert#american assassin imagine#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan o brien x reader#dylan o brien reader insert#dylan o brien#written#stattic
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Masterlists
Dylan OâBrien
Corpse Husband
Colby Brock
Stardew Valley Sebastian
My Chemical Romance
#dylan o'brien#corpse husband#masterlist#dylan o'brien fanfic#dylan o'brien fanfiction#dylan fanfiction#dylan o'brien fic#dylan fic#corpse fanfic#corpse fic#corpse#reader insert#dylan o'brien reader insert#corpse husband x reader#mitch rapp#stiles stilinski#mitch rapp fanfiction#mitch rapp fanfic#mitch rapp fic#mitch rapp smut#stiles stilinski fanfic#stiles stilinski fic#stiles stilinski fanfiction#sdv sebastian#stardew valley sebastian#stardew sebastian#my chemical romance#gerard way#frank iero#party poison
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Masterlist
âââââââââââââââââââââââ
Harry Potter
Shouldâve seen that coming (Cedric Diggory x reader)
Hunger Games
Jabberjays (Finnick x reader)
Timing (Finnick x reader)
Teen Wolf
The Best Prize (Stiles x reader)
The Maze Runner
More than Life Itself (Newt x reader)
Chicago Shows
Youâre Safe (Jay Halstead x reader)
DC
itâs early (Jason todd x reader)
Marvel
Home (Avengers x reader)
Is that mine? (Bucky x reader)
Blood isnât your Color (Bucky x reader)
Iâll Save You From Anything (Steve x reader)
Play Pretend (Steve x reader)
Donât Look Down (Peter Parker x reader)
Donât Waste it (Based on Black Widow post credit scene)
American Assassin
âYeah, I know.â (Mitch Rapp x reader)
Harry Styles
Fakers, Liars, Lovers (Harry Styles x reader)
#reader insert#prompts#masterlist#marvel fanfiction#fanfiction#one chicago#harry potter#cedric diggory#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#buck barnes#bucky x reader#peter parker#chicago pd imagine#peter parker x reader#spiderman#spider man x reader#american assassin#Mitch Rapp#dylan o'brian imagine
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Beyond Delicious
Summary: In her drunken state, the reader thinks that Dylan isnât a real cop and hits on him.
Pairing: Cop!Dylan x Reader
Prompt:Â âWhatâs your name, inmate?â
~
Sauntering down Tremont Street in downtown Boston, your only focus is the click clacking of your high heels hitting the pavement. Youâre barely aware of the lingering eyes as they fixate on your sexy inmate costume.
The hardcore pregaming at your best friendâs place majorly attributes to your aloofness. Itâs also the reason why youâre venturing out late to acquire more booze on Halloween night.
Gallivanting around by yourself is admittedly not the best idea, especially with the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream. Meh. If it comes down to it, you can always resort to stabbing someone with your pretty five inch heels.
Once you enter the liquor store, youâre immediately drawn to a tall man whoâs looking beyond delicious in a cop costume. Heâs perusing the snack section, completely oblivious about the effect he has on you already.
The liquid courage in your system lets you stroll over to him without a second thought, âWell hello there.â Your eyes flick down to his shiny gold name tag. âOfficer OâBrien.â
âWow.â He breathes out as his brown eyes drink you in. âHello yourself.â
âNice costume. It looks very authentic.â You lean in closer to him. âYour handcuffs definitely look more fun than mine.â
âWell everything is real soâŚâ Dylan trails off, expecting your flirty demeanor towards him to falter out. Although it doesnât, his answer makes you seductively bite your bottom lip instead.
âEven better.â You wink causing his heart to speed up.
âWhatâs your name, inmate?â He gruffly demands, even though thereâs no hint of threat behind it.
âY/N.â You answer cheerfully and it makes him chuckle. âYou?â
âDylan.â He gestures at the orange fabric clinging to your body. âSo you got pinched huh? What for?â
âIndecent exposure.â You innocently reveal through your long fake lashes.
âShit.â Dylan whispers as he purposely breaks eye contact with you. He starts begging his overstimulated mind to get its shit together. Heâs still on the job after all.
âHow did you get here, miss? I hope you didnât drive.â He inquires because of the obvious state that youâre in.
âI walked. My friendâs apartment is just down the street.â
âBy yourself?â
âYes, sir.â You roll your eyes. âShe was taking too long to get ready so I just left without her.â
âAh. Iâm guessing you guys are having a Halloween party?â He smirks at you.
âGoing to one actually. Wanna come? Itâll be a good time.â You inch closer to him, now able to breathe in his intoxicating smell.
âIâŚwellâŚâ Dylan clears his throat. âI donât get off until midnight.â
âI bet we can make it happen much sooner than that, officer.â You giggle softly, enjoying the impact that your words are having on him.
âFuck, woman. Youâre killing me.â Dylanâs eyes automatically widen, he truly canât believe what just fell out of his mouth.
âWell we canât have that.â You tease him, now continuing on towards the vodka aisle.
Dylan watches in amazement, hypnotized by the swing in your hips and the curves of your ass. Luckily he snaps out of his trance, just in time to see that youâre now paying at the register. Not wanting to say goodbye just yet, he races in the direction of the exit and then anxiously waits outside for you.
You soon emerge from the liquor store with two bottles of Absolut Vodka and youâre met with a charming smile. Cocking your head, you silently wonder why the handsome police officer is still standing there.
âI should probably walk back with you, Y/N. Better safe than sorry.â
âYou donât haâŚâ
âI insist.â
You canât help but laugh, âWell then letâs go, OâBrien.â
You and Dylan both move slow, deliberately wanting to make this time together last. The fresh cool air has cleared your head a bit, youâre by no means sober but at least youâre functioning better. The walk is filled with jokes and laughter, thereâs definitely a chemistry here beyond physical attraction.
Dylan tries to hide his disappoint when itâs time for you both to part ways. You werenât kidding about your friend living close by and now he doesnât want to leave. Drunk or not, you both really hit it off and he wants nothing more than to learn everything he can about you.
âSo the partyâs actually inside.â You mention casually, glancing up at your friendâs building. âAnother friend who lives here is throwing it.â
âI can swing by after work.â Dylan rushes out adorably. âI meanâŚif thatâs cool.â
âDefinitely.â Your entire face lights up making his do the same, everything about you is just infectious.
You willingly hand over your phone number and he promises to call when he can, surprisingly you both act a little shy during the interaction. After a sweet peck on his warm cheek, you then climb the apartment steps and unlock the front door.
âSee you soon, officer.â You grin slyly before slipping inside, then break out into a happy dance once youâre out of sight.
âYes you will, inmate.â Dylan chuckles to himself.
~
MasterlistÂ
#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien x reader#dylan obrien#dylan o'brien fanfiction#dylan o'brien au#dylan o brien#dylan o'brien fanfic#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan o'brien fiction#dylan o'brien reader insert#dylan x reader#teen wolf#teen wolf fanfic#teen wolf fanfiction#teen wolf au#teen wolf rpf#stiles stilinski#teen wolf imagine#mitch rapp#stiles stilinksi x reader#dylan obrien x reader#halloween#cop!dylan#police officer!dylan#officer!dylan
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Masterlist
* indicates smut
Mitch Rapp
The Division * - Series
Welcome Home -Â 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
Iâll Protect YouÂ
The Man I Was
Part One | Part Two |
Teen Wolf
Burn - features Scott and Stiles
Alice In Borderland
House of Cards - Suguru Niragi Series
#mitch rapp#stiles stilinski#mitch rapp fanfiction#stiles stilinski fanfiction#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien fanfiction#reader insert#dylan o'brien fanfic#mitch rapp fanfic#mitch rapp smut#dylan o'brien smut#stiles stilinski x reader#stiles stilinski x ofc#mitch rapp x reader#dylan o'brien x reader#mitch rapp x ofc#stiles stilinski fanfic#dave hodgman#dave hodgman fanfic#dave hodgman fanfiction#dave hodgman fluff#dave hodgman smut#dave hodgman x reader#the first time#american assassin#teen wolf#the internship#stuart twombly#stuart twombly fanfic#stuart twombly fic
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American Assassin
It Wasnât A Mistake *Smut* Youâre Mine, Got It? *Smut* Keep Your Eyes On Me Letâs Talk This Out Switching Sides *Smut* Undercover *Smut*
#mitch rapp#mitch x reader#mitch rapp x reader#mitch rapp imagine#mitch rapp imagines#mitch x reader imagine#mitch rapp x reader imagine#mitch rapp fluff#mitch rapp smut#mitch rapp fanfiction#mitch rapp fanfic#mitch rapp reader insert#american assassin#american assassin fanfiction#dylan o'brien imagines#dylan o'brien
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The Eagle
A/N: Howdy there yâall. My name is Grace and I am your admin here! So I am a super busy gal and I donât get to write as much as I want to. But this is an idea that I have had for a while and I really want to try my hand at it. So here you go, please keep in mind that I am an amateur writer, I probably wonât post a lot and this is my first fic I have ever published other than one on wattpad which in all honestly will probably move here. So please bear with me, give me some tips and help and love. ;) And let me know what you think.
Summary: Basically this will be a Mitch Rapp x deaf!reader fic. Similar to Rappâs motivation except you know different. I donât think I will have them fall in love. Maybe a small fling and then they realize its best for neither of them. Idk man, Iâve never been in a relationship, I don't know how reciprocated feelings work, so this will be a journey. And this has already been too long of an intro, so story starts now!
Images flash through my head as I punch the bag with my fist. My sisterâs face, another punch. My mom and dad, two more swift punches follow though. I leap through the air, finishing with a roundhouse kick as I let out a grunt of anger. My face sweating, my hair falling out of place, I let out a silent scream for no one to hear. I stare at the punching bag, hating everything that had happened to you, hating him. I back up twenty feet from my red Velcro-d nemesis, eyes on the bag, I run.
 âŚ
 âWho is she?â Rapp breathed out with a monotone whisper.
âSheâs no one you need to concern yourself with.â
I looked over to her, as she sprinted towards the punching bag. The next thing that I see, is the weirdest thing I had ever seen. She leaped onto the bag, swinging it around with the chains above her rattling and tackling the nearest punching dummy, knocking it to the ground. She stood up, and started to walk away, un-taping her hands as she walked.
âHoly crap.â
âYeah, and hereâs the kicker. She canât hear a thing.â
 âŚ
It was supposed to be a simple vacation. A simple family vacation to the beautiful shore of Jordan. My mom and dad were supposed to be sun-bathing together, my baby sister was supposed to be playing in the sand, making sand castles. But no, I had insisted we stayed inside, I insisted that we can go down to the beach tomorrow, what I would give to have gone down to the beach that day.
They were sitting in our hotel room, on the floor below the top. They were playing board games, laughing, enjoying their vacation. All the while I was rushing downstairs to get food and to avoid the annoyance of family game night. I was about to reach the main floor when it happened. What I could only describe as a firework on a scale of much greater magnitude, but that was only the sound, the physical feeling of the accident was so much more. The heat was unbearable, I was thrown back, an indescribable pain erupted in my gut and every sound was replaced by a ringing. A ringing that would eventually drown out all other sounds, then cease to exist. Consciousness eluded me, and when I came to, my life was much different than it was supposed to be.
âŚ
I was told it had been several hours before I gained any measurement of consciousness. And when I did, I found myself in a hospital, miles away from the hotel you were staying at. Only to find out what you never wanted to hear. Your mom, your dad, your sister; they were gone, torn down at the hands of terrorists, of cowards.
They made you feel hopeless, weak, mortal, they took your family, the ones who defined you and left you at the mercy of God. They made me feel something I never wanted to feel again. And thus begins my journey, my only goal from here on out. Vengeance.
 âŚ
 You walks down the corridor of the military base, carefully avoiding the new cadets running in cadence down the hall. She could only wonder what the color guard was screaming at the new recruits, probably something stupid, maybe not. You keep walking until you are stopped in the hallway, a hand grabs your shoulder. Very quickly, you hip-checked the figure behind, grabbed the arm closest to you and flipped the body over your head. Quickly, dropping to one knee pressed to the offenderâs throat only to find a guy in civilian clothes, mouthing something that could have looked like âstop stop please stopâ, but you didnât really care. Or maybe you just couldnât pay attention.
As a deaf agent, you have always stared at lips, just to read them of course. But this man, this man was different. Maybe it was his lips, his eyes, his demeanor, hell maybe it was his ignorance. But something stood out. Now, people know not to sneak up on you, ever since you did the same moves on one of the officers of the base. Word spread quickly and no one ever approached you from behind since, you decided to give this guy a pass and just keep walking. (And no, it wasnât because you liked the way he looked) So with that, you dust off your hands and continue walking in the same direction you previously were, unable to get the strange mans lips out of your head.
 SO THANKS FOR READING YOU MADE IT TO THE END. No but seriously, thanks for bearing that torturous fic, and let me know... if anyone ever sees this.
#American Assassin#mitch rapp x reader#deaf!reader#probably reader insert#mitch rapp#dylan o'brien#stiles stilinski#mitch rapp imagine
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Christmas Missions - Mitch Rapp
Author: @stilinskiparkerâ Characters: Mitch Rapp x Reader Word Count: 746 Warnings: fluff, tw: flashing gif Tropes/AUâs: no tropes or auâs! Smut: no | yes; Requested: Yes,! I hope it meets your expectations, anon friend!âââ A/N: Hi, friends! If you like this fic, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy đ
Whoever the fuck decided to fuck things up during Christmas time can not so kindly fuck themselves. I mean, seriously! Youâve got to be fucked up to wanna fuck someone elseâs Christmas up.
Mitch and I are in Miami on a mission to capture a drug lord down here. Weâd been here for a few weeks, trying to locate him while talking to his customers to get his location. Once we found him, we tried to âarrestâ him, but drastic measures had to be taken.
Packed up and ready to leave the Jacksonville International Airport on our flight back to Virginia when an announcement came over the PA saying that all flights to Virginia have been canceled for the rest of the day and into the night due to the snow.
After we left the airport, we found a hotel to stay in for the night.
âHere comes Santa Claus, Here comes Santa Claus, right down Santa Claus lane,â I sang. Mitch looked at me like I was crazy as my eyes met his. âWhat?â
âYouâre crazy,â he said.
âCrazy for loving Christmas?â
He nodded his head.Â
âWell, lucky for you, I went and bought decorations and a few other things while weâre stuck in this room for the next 24 hours.â I placed a bag down on the bed, taking off my jacket. Going through the bag, I started singing the song again - well, more like humming it to myself.
I started decorating the room, hearing the rustle of the bag behind me, smiling a little to myself. Seeing Mitch at the glass door in the corner of my eye, I watched as he placed those stick on decorations to it.
We spent the next few minutes decorating our room before I decided to ask him, âWhenâs the last time you celebrated Christmas?â
His shoulders slumped a little before he looked me in the eyes, giving his answer, âBefore Katrina died.â
I knew about Katrina. I watched the news about the beach attack and read all the articles on it. I felt so bad, but I also wanted to keep stuff like that from happening again⌠so I joined the CIA.
I looked down as I messed with the decoration in my hand for a moment before I whispered, âIâm sorry.â
âItâs alright,â he said. âDid you get anything else at the store?â
Thinking face on, I turned around and looked through the grocery bags, finding a box of hot chocolate mix that I forgot about. âI did!â I showed him the blue box with snowy mountains on it. âWant some?â
Mitch nodded his head, a hint of a smile in his eyes. He grabbed the box from me, heading to the single serve coffee machine on the counter. After he filled the styrofoam cup with water, he put it in the back of the machine before putting the cup under the machine where the water comes out.
Once both cups had water in them, he grabbed the plastic spoons that I also bought and put them into the cups before grabbing the packets of hot chocolate. At the same time, we poured the powdered mix into our cups, a smile spread across my face.
A few minutes later, I decided to give Mitch something. Reaching into my bag, I grabbed his gift and handed it to him. âHere,â I said. âFor you.â
He opened it, finding a new black Henley and a razor kit. He looked at me, confused, so I went ahead and answered his question.
âThe Henley is to replace the one that got all ripped to hell during the mission, and the razor kit is to help keep that facial hair in check.â
He looked back down at it and whispered, âYou didnât have to.â Looking back up at me, he said, âI didnât get you anything.â
I waved him off, telling him it was no big deal. I really didnât want anything, anyway. Well, there was one thing I wanted; to see my family, but I wasnât going to tell him that.
Mitch and I spent the rest of the night watching whatever Christmas movie was on TV while drinking our hot chocolates. I donât even know when I fell asleep!Â
But what I do know is, when I woke up, there was a message from Mitch on the nightstand, saying, âWent to get some coffee from your favorite coffee place. Thanks for making this the best Christmas mission ever.â
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A/N 2: let me know what you thought!
Additional Note:
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Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24ââââââ @stixnstripesworldââââââ @fandom-princess-forevermoreââââââ @quanticobaeââââââ @mischiefandiââââââ @kellyashcroftââââââ @lauren-novakâââââââ @good-vibes-and-glitterââââââ
Posted on December 17, 2022
#mitch rapp x reader#mitch x reader#mitch rapp x reader insert#mitch x reader insert#dylan o'brien x reader#dylan o'brien x reader insert
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Stranger Danger - Mitch Rapp X Reader
Note: Iâve only read the first few chapters of the book so I donât know if it specifies anything but I have seen the movie twice, so I hope this is good enough cause I know next to nothing about all the agent talk and missions and all that. So fingers crossed this works.
Warnings (!): fluff, smut, oral (girl receiving), choking, multiple orgasms, rough sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, mentions of death (?)
Word count: 14k
I pull back the thin, yellow curtain that shields me from the bright sun, peeking my head out slightly to catch a glimpse of the men training within the trees. The second my (e/c) eyes find them, a muscular man with black hair is being flung over onto his back by Stan. I wince, expecting that to hurt the guy, all the rocks and twigs probably digging into his back. Theyâre pretty far from the old house but not to far that I canât see whatâs going on. Theyâre mainly just blurry figures in the distance but Iâd be able to spot my dad in any crowd.
The outside world always interested me. No, I donât me the grass and sunshine. The real outside world. Itâs brutal and horrible. Bodyâs dropping, blood pooling and the heart shattering sounds of gun fire. Â Youâd think that Iâd be used to all that, since Stan is my father. However, it all sickens me. Donât get me wrong, I think that what my dad does is helping make the world a better place, ridding the Earth of these horrible terrorists one by one. But just the sheer brutality of it all makes my stomach churn. However, when I said that the outside world interested me, doesnât mean I want to be a part of it, at least not on the field. I want to help, but I know that if I hold a heavy, metal gun in my small, fragile hands I wonât be able to pull the trigger. No matter what a man has done, Iâd never be able to end his life. And my dad knows this, thatâs why heâs kept me away from all the training sessions and recruits so that I donât get mixed up in it all. Iâd much prefer to be on the other side of the screen, helping whoever is on the field. Iâd be helping, saving lives. Not ending one.
I snap out of my all-over-the-place thoughts when I see all the men heading towards the old house Iâve come to call home. They do this everyday, come over after training to have lunch - or a beer if theyâre lucky, Â but thatâs only if my dad is in a good mood. This is the time of day when Iâm expected to stay up in my room and not come out until the assassins have left. But today? I donât know, letâs just say curiosity got the best of me.
I quickly rush over to my bedroom door, fling myself out of the room and practically sprint down the creaky steps, making sure I got to the kitchen before the guys, and my dad, entered the house. I jump up on the bar stool and rest my elbows on the counter, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl and taking a bite. Trying to look casual. The sound of friendly chatter escalates as the men approach, making me wonder if theyâre ever this loud when theyâre on a mission. I hear them enter the house, theyâre footsteps creaking along the floorboards as they enter into the kitchen, where Iâm seated.
âY/n? What are you doing downstairs? Youâre not meant to be down here at this time!â My dad practically yells at me. Iâve had to deal with his anger and attitude for my whole life. Iâm pretty much used to it, but seeing the crowd of muscular, sweaty men behind him all staring at me makes me at a loss for words. These men have all killed someone. The thought echoes in my brain and I start to regret my decision of coming down here. âYou either answer me, young lady or you March right back up to your room!â Just as Iâm about to splutter an excuse, a soothing but also slightly rough voice stops me in my tracks.
âWho is this, sir?â A man with black, medium length hair and whiskey coloured eyes speaks out, stepping forward from the crowd. They way he said âsirâ made it seem like a joke, like he knows heâs better than Stan. But youâd be a fool not to fear my father, especially if you take orders from him. My father has never mistreated me, heâs a great parent, he can just get a little loud sometimes. But if I werenât his daughter and I were a recruit, then Iâd be pissing my pants. He sure knows how to make your life a living hell. Hell, Iâve seen him make a few grown men cry. Itâs actually quite heartbreaking.
âNot that itâs any of your business, but she lives hereâ my dad huffed, giving them a white lie for the time being. âHow come none of us have ever seen her before?â The same dark haired man challenged. He is clearly a smart one, and dumb for not shutting up when he should in the presence of Stan. Hurley clearly wasnât prepared for this talk and he seems to be fuming. I quickly think of a decent explanation and blurt it out, saving my fathers ass for now.
âI donât like small spacesâ I state, jumping off the bar stool, crossing one foot over the other, appearing to look innocent. âAnd a bunch of men all hanging out in the kitchen seems like the smallest space in the houseâ well itâs not a lie. I do get a bit claustrophobic. âSo I try not to get involved at those timesâ I rub the back of my neck, not liking all the eyes on me. I am known to be rather shy at first introductions.
âGood enough for meâ one guy who stands at the back muttered and they all pushed forward, stumbling into the kitchen to grab a sandwich each off the counter that I prepared earlier for them. However, Stan and hazel eyes havenât moved. My dad gives me a pointed look that tells me âweâll talk laterâ so I nod and watch as he walk off to grab a beer from the refrigerator, slapping hands away from the cold beverage as he closes the fridge door.
âSo do you have one on one training here or something? Working for the CIA?â Hazel eyes is still standing there but now heâs taken a step towards me, somewhat interrogating me. He has light stubble on his cheeks and chin, adding more character to his intimidating personality. Though he seems to want to pry answers from me, there is also a kindness hidden behind his eyes and it makes me stare longer then intended. I have to shake my head and drop my gaze as I speak.
âUh, not exactly. Noâ I quickly take another bite from the bright green apple in my hands so that heâd realise I would like to stop talking. He seems to get the hint, dropping the interrogation. I would have thought that heâd walk off with the other men after that, grab a sandwich and take a seat, instead he stays put, standing oddly close to me. When I decided to come down from my room, this is not exactly what I had in mind. I thought theyâd all be brooding and dark, staring off into space remembering all the horrible things theyâve seen and done. But when I look at this guy beside me, he seems like a genuinely nice guy that is have a decent conversation with. Stop it! Thatâs what theyâre trained to do. Look like an ordinary person youâd see walking along the street, but then they attack when you least expect it. I have to remind myself that these men are in fact human and not blood thirsty animals.
âHow about a less threatening question, like, whatâs your name?â The assassin looks down at me and I canât help but notice the permanent little side smirk he wears on his lips. Itâs almost hardly noticeable. âIâm Mitchâ he greeted, sticking his hand out for me to shake.
âY/nâ I responded, reaching out to shake his hand in a friendly manner. He has nice hands. Big, veiny and could probably crush my hand right now if he wanted to, but also warm and soft like kitten paws. Itâs almost impossible to believe that he has killed men with those hands. I donât have to ask him if he has killed a man, I already know the answer. He has that same hint of a look in his eye that my dad has. My dad hadnât always had that look, but I noticed it one day when he came home late, clutching his side in pain with cuts and bruises all over him. I was only a little girl when that happened. I wouldnât like to know how many men he has killed since.
âIâm gonna go and eat. Iâll talk to you later maybe. Yeah?â Mitch concluded, gently tapping my elbow with his fingers. He waited for me to nod in response before smiling without showing his teeth and walking off to the other men. I watched as he leant over the counter to grab a sandwich, quickly taking a big bite then slipping out of the house. My eyebrows furrowed as to why he wouldnât stay and have a little fun with his⌠Friends? Maybe he doesnât get a long with any of them? Either way, I only just realise that there are a lot of men in the house and itâs getting pretty rowdy, giving me a headache. Seeing my dad sitting on the couch, sipping his beer, I walk over cautiously as I try not to touch any of the other guys.
âHey, Iâm gonna go up stairs now. Sorry about all that beforeâ I apologise and pat him on the shoulder.I thought about giving him a kiss on the cheek but then realised that the guys might notice and get suspicious, if they arenât already. I sure know Mitch is. Stan places his hand on top of mine, stopping me from walking off. âWe will talk later, okay?â Though it was a question, he didnât sound like he was asking at all. I nodded in agreement as he let go of my hand. Turning to walk up the stairs and realising Iâm in big trouble.
As soon as I get into my room, I quickly shut the door and start pacing around, thinking of a good excuse that would lead to me being in less trouble. I know my dad is just trying to keep me safe but I hardly talked to those guys. I didnât even talk to any of them except for Mitch. Plus, we hardly even did talk I pretty much just told him my name and that was it. These thoughts rush around my brain, thinking, thinking, thinkingâŚ
I stop pacing the room when I notice a light breeze coming in through my window. Iâm certain I didnât open it when I woke up this morning. Itâs started getting cooler these days and Iâm not a fan of the cold, so I decided to keep it shut for today.
The sudden noise of creaking floorboards behind me makes me jump in shock and fear. I spin quickly on my heal and shriek, jumping back and colliding into the wall, banging my head. Mitch stands there with his arms crossed, leaning on the wall. However, as soon as I let the embarrassing noice loose from my lips, he rushes over and places a firm hand over my mouth.
âY/n, are you okay up there?â My dad yells from the bottom of the staircase. Mitch presses my body into the wall harder as a warning, giving me a harsh stare as to not say anything stupid. His hand slowly leaves my mouth, his palm accidentally brushing down my bottom lip. âIâm not going to hurt you, okay? Tell him youâre fineâ Mitch whispers lowly, I know I probably shouldnât trust him and I donât think I do, but it doesnât stop me from being curious.
âYeah Iâm fine, I just⌠Tripped?â I didnât mean to raise my voice at the end, making it sound like a question. But with Mitch watching me and holding me made my brain stutter. Mitch closed his eyes and sighed, disappointed in my lack of lying skills. I shrug my shoulders and cringe at my own awkwardness. âOkay, well be carefulâ Stan hollered back. Seems that my lying skills are just good enough.
âWhat the hell are you doing in my room? And howâd you get in here anyway? I saw you left the houseâ I exclaimed, placing my hands on his chest and shoving him back. I donât have enough strength to make him fall on his ass, but he did stumble back a step or two. I watch as he runs a hand over his stubble, using his other hand to point at the open window I was confused about. Makes sense. I turn around and stop over to the window, slamming it shut and pulling the curtain shut. âGreat, weâve got ourselves a damn Romeo over hereâ I grumbled.
âI just wanted to talk. Iâm sorry for barging in but⌠Listen, Iâve been here for about a month now and youâve apparently been here the whole timeâ he points an accusing finger at me as he stares at me with his whiskey eyes. His voice is getting dangerously low and I can tell he is getting angry. âI just donât understand how no one has ever seen you beforeâ he concludes, stepping quickly to press his arm against my chest and keeping me pressed firmly against the wall. âWho are you?! You a spy? You said youâre not training here so tell me!â My eyes widen in fear as I grip at his arm, trying desperately to dig my nails into his flesh to get him off me.
âI just live here! Please let me go!â I pleaded, leaving crescent shaped marks all over his arm. He isnât exactly hurting me, but the fear of what he could do to me is taking over and forcing me to get away from him. âIâm not a spy, I swear on my life!â I squeaked, wanting to kick his shins but his feet are stomped down on my toes, keeping me from moving them.
âWhy is Hurley just letting you stay here then, huh? Stop lying! What have you told him?â His hand slams against the wall beside my head and I whimper under his stare. âTell me!â While he is angry and fuming, he still manages to keep his voice low enough so that my dad wonât hear. HoweverâŚ
A knock at my door forces Mitch to lessen his grip on me, I push him off and he quickly grabs my upper arm. âY/n I think itâs time for our chat. Are you decent?â My fathers voice is heard from the other side of the door. Mitch puts his index finger to his lips, telling me to keep quiet. I nod, some reason feeling the need to trust him. I glance around my room for a spot for Mitch to hide while I talk to my dad. Not fully thinking through that Mitch will hear everything that is being said, I point over to the wardrobe.
âUh, just a second! Iâll be right thereâ I quickly call out as I open the wardrobe door and stuff Mitch inside. He gives me a warning glare and I nod my head, shutting the door on him and walking over to where my dad is. With a deep breath and a fake smile thrown on my face, I open the door and let him inside.
âI donât wanna yellâ he starts off âI just wanna get this sorted out nice and calmly, okay?â He asks and I take a seat on my blue covered bed, nodding in agreement. âThis was our arrangement, wasnât it? You stay away from the trainees if you wanna be able to stay hereâ he quizzed and I nodded once again. âWhy did we make that a rule, Y/n?â He stays stood in front of me, looking down on me like a disappointed parent. Which he is. Â
âFor my protectionâ I assured. âIâm sorry. It wonât happen again, I just⌠I donât know. I donât really have any friends and I guess I just miss having people to talk toâ I confess. A squeak comes from the wardrobe followed by a faint bang. I start fake coughing to keep the attention away. âItâs not gonna happen again and I fully understand why youâre upset with me. Now, Iâm tired so do you mind if we finish this conversation here?â I blabber, rushing my words so that he will hurry up and leave so that Mitch doesnât get caught. Not only will I get busted for having a guy in my room, but one of his own trainees? Iâll be grounded for life!
Stan sighs and runs a hand over his balding head âI guess we can end it here. But itâs only four in the afternoon, and your tired? You feeling okay?â He asks like a worried father would. I simply give a reassuring smile and nod, leading him out of my room. âOkay, well⌠Goodnight, I guessâ he ended with a low voice, probably disappointed that he didnât get to lecture me some more.
âGoodnightâ I breathed, closing the door behind him and locking it. I spin on my heal and lean against the wood, sighing after taking in a big breath. I feel like the worlds worst daughter right now. He does care for me and he is just looking out for me, of course I had to go and make him worry. âYouâre his daughter, arenât you?â I jump at the sudden noice, forgetting that Mitch was even there. Instead of getting all defensive and angry, I just slowly nod my head, keeping my eyes on a spot of hardwood on the floor. Â "Shit" Mitch mutters. âWhy have you been hidden away in here then?â He asks like itâs the craziest thing in the world.
âWerenât you listening?â I snap, not wanting to go into all the details. I would much rather keep my mind on something else. As I feel myself getting emotional, I shuffle over to my bed and lay down on my back, staring up at the ceiling and forcing tears back down. âCan we talk about something else. Iâm not in the mood right nowâ I say politely.
âUh, have you had any training? I mean, if I were a terrorist I could have easily killed you before. You werenât prepared at all, plus I had you in a easy grip, you should have been able to easily get out of thatâ he accuses walking over towards the bed and taking a seat at the end, facing away from me. However, with his back to me I can admire his muscles and how defined he is. He is wearing a simple black t-shirt with dark blue jeans, simple and casual. âYouâre not really doing a good job at cheering me up, Mitchâ his head whipped around once he heard his name, as if he forgot he told me it and was wondering how I knew. Once he calms down he mutters a small âsorryâ then turns back around.
âAnd to answer your question; no. I havenât had any trainingâ Mitch turns to look at me once again, propping a leg up on the bed so that his body is facing me as well. The look on his face makes me feel like I have two heads or something. âI know, the daughter of the infamous Stan Hurley hasnât had training. It was my call thoughâ again, he looks at me with curious and confused eyes. âI donât wanna be⌠Like you. No offenceâ I explained. Just now Iâm realising how easy it is to get lost in his eyes. Wow, that sounded clichĂŠ. âNone takenâ he states with a serious face, not even a smile or nothing.
âI do wanna be able to help in some way though. But, me out on the field?â I pause to chuckle âIâd only either get myself killed or the people working with meâ I shake my head and push myself up into a sitting position, scooting towards the end of the bed to sit next to Mitch. âHow would you want to help then?â He asks with curios eyes. Sitting next to him, this close, forces me to admire how attractive he is. Especially his lips. Theyâre so defined, the perfect Cupidâs bow and the perfect shape for kissing. I realise that Iâm looking right at his lips and he probability is thinking hat I want to kiss him, so I cast my gaze to my hands in my lap. âIâm not sure. Maybe like a personal nurse or something like thatâ I chuckle.
âNo, thatâs actually a good idea. You know how to treat bullet wounds? Burns? Cuts?â He asks rather quickly, like heâs excited for this to happen or something. I nod my head with furrowed brows âIâve had to stitch up my dad a few times so I know enough to make sure that no one bleeds outâ I explain. Burns and cuts are simple, but with bullet wounds, that can be tricky. Lucky Iâve had some practice, I guess. âYour dadâ Mitch repeats, seeming to be in a trance. I elbow him in his side and his eyes find mine. âSorry, its gonna take some time for me to get used to the fact that he even has a kidâ he clarified.
âYou canât tell anyone. Donât tell a soul, especially Stanâ I place my hand on his shoulder and get him to look me in the eyes. âIâm trusting you with this, Mitch. Promise me you wonât tell anyoneâ his eyes shifted down when his name left my lips. He canât have forgotten again, right? âYeah. Sureâ he uttered. It wasnât the best, I would take a pinky promise over that but I guess itâll do for now.
Itâs been about two hours now, the sun slowly sinking down behind the trees, casting a nice pink and orange light across the sky. Mitch and I are sitting on my bed like teenagers gossiping about school. I lay with my hands probing my upper body half up while Mitch sits cross legged, fiddling the the bed sheets in his fingers. We spent the last hour or so talking about his past, as much as he didnât want to, I practically forced him to open up - in the nicest way possible. He must have known that getting it off his chest would make things seem easier. He told me about how he lost his parents in a car crash, how he got expelled from many schools, and how he then lost his fiancĂŠ. I wanted to cry when he told me he saw her already dead body getting shot at right in front of him, but I kept my tears down, trying my best to be strong for him. While he seemed to speak with a cold tone and hard stare, I did notice when his eyes glossed over when he talked about his girlfriend who he had just proposed to. But what made me angry, was the fact that my father used the video Mitch recorded of him proposing, just to teach him a lesson.
Donât let it get personal.
I had heard him say it many times, but using his lovers death as a lesson made my blood boil. Mitch is a good guy. I had learnt that while talking to him for the past hour or two. The only reason he is here is to avenge his girlfriend and make sure no one has to go through the pain she went through. Those were his words. But I think that heâs doing this so that no one has to feel the pain he went through.
âWell, there you go. You got me to tell you my life story. Now itâs your turnâ Mitch sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. God, Iâd love to do that to him. He shifts so that his knees are brought up to his chest while his elbows rest on his knees, his whiskey eyes staring intently at me.
âItâs pretty simple really. Mom and dad divorced, mom passed away so I moved here to live with my dad. Thatâs about itâ I explain quickly, I wasnât very close with my mom and it happened five years ago so Iâve grown to accept her passing. âSchool was⌠School. I had friends but after graduation we stopped talking to each other. So, my story isnât really that excitingâ I scoff, trying to think of something interesting to tell him since he opened up to me about everything. However, my mind comes up blank.
âWell, letâs talk more about this idea of yoursâ he suggests and I furrow my brows in confusion. âYou being a nurse for us. If your life really is a boring as you say it is-â
âI never said it was boringâ I chuckle. However he ignores my comment and continues. âWouldnât it be better than being cooped up in here for the rest of your life? You could come on missions with us, see the world. But youâd be staying in a hotel while we finish the job obviouslyâ while his voice stays somewhat monotoned, I can see that he is really on board with this idea.
âI donât know, MitchâŚâ I would honestly love to help and set this plan into motion, but that doesnât hide the fact that Iâm scared. Mitch must have seen the fear in my eyes âYou could come with me for your first run if that makes you feel better. Hence you donât really know the other guys. Iâll make sure no one knows about you, youâll strictly be in the hotel to patch me up when I come back bleedingâ he says it all with such confidence. âY/n, Iâve seen men die from bleeding out, itâs slow and painful. But if youâre there, you can prevent us from dyingâ his voice dropped to an almost whisper.
âI would love to help, really! But, thereâs no way my dad would let me go with youâ I state sadly. Mitchâs eyes only harden and I can tell he is going to do anything to make sure he gets his way. âIâll talk to your dad. He isnât a big fan of me but Iâm sure I can get him to agree to thisâ he nods his head sternly, he suddenly hops off the bed and walks over to the window.
âYouâre not going to talk to him now are you?â I jump up, ready to stop him. We havenât thought this through properly. If he talks to my dad then Stan will know that Mitch has been talking to me. Heâs already opening the window and pulling the curtains open so I grab his shoulder and turn him to face me.
âNo, no itâs just that theyâre probably going to do roll call soon if they havenât already. So I should probably be there for thatâ he explains with that stupidly cute smirk on his face. I take a deep breath and nod my head, taking my hand off him. He turns back around and slides the glass window open.
âHang on, they do roll call?â I ask with curiosity. There are only about ten guys, if someone were missing then theyâd know, right?
âLetâs hope notâ mitch grunts as he lifts a leg though the window. I laugh at his response and shake my head at how unprofessional he has been today. I did only just meet him today though, so maybe heâs always like that. Who knows really.
âYou need to smile more. It suits youâ he encouraged as he stands on outside on the roof now. As he looks into the room he was just in, he glances at me as if he wanted to say something more. He must have changed his mind since I practically saw him shake the words out of his head.
âRight back at youâ I whisper, sliding the window shut on him and waving innocently. He smirks and shakes his head, waving his hand once before jumping down from the roof and landing swiftly and quietly on the porch below. I chuckle as I watch him run over towards where the recruits stay, closing the yellow curtain when I can no longer see him.
I like this guy.
Mitch
I stand with my hands pressed firmly into the table separating me and Hurley. Hurley is sitting down, hardly acknowledging my presence as he types away at his laptop. âWe donât have anyone that can be a personal nurse, Rapp. And Iâm not paying someone for the mistakes you make out in the fieldâ Stan presses and I huff in annoyance. I had brought him the idea about Y/n being on missions with us for when we get injured - without using her name - just to see what he thinks of the whole idea.
âWhat if we do have someone? And what if she doesnât care about getting payed?â I suggest, merely dropping hints that the person Iâm talking about is right up stairs. Honestly, I donât know why Iâm even trying so hard to get her this job. As soon as I saw her yesterday, I was suspicious and I didnât trust her one bit. But then when we were talking last night, I couldnât help the swelling in my chest whenever she so much as said my name.
âWho in this day and age doesnât care about getting payed, Rapp?â Stan asks like Iâm stupid, his voice slowly getting louder and louder. My eyes flicker to the roof separating us from Y/nâs room. Hurley seems to get what Iâm saying now and I can practically see him turn red like some cartoon character. âNo. No, no, no! You have not been talking to her about this, Mitch! I will kick your ass so hard that youâll be stuck in a damn coma!â I straighten up, taking my hands off the table and keeping a hard stare on him, making sure to show him that Iâm not backing down.
âIt was her idea, sir.â I state calmly. âI simply am the one just trying to make it happenâ Stan only gets angrier at this statement. However, I know that if I push him just enough, he will probably start swinging.
âWhen did you get so friendly with her, huh? I watched you two yesterday and she sure as hell didnât know youâ he seethes, slipping around the table like a snake eyeing its prey. I can already tell that by the way this is going Iâm going to have to go with plan B. Plan A being just a good ole chat.
âLast night, sir. We got pretty friendly, if thatâs how you wanna put itâ I cringe at my own words, knowing that itâll push Stan overboard. And thatâs exactly what he does. His fist flies towards my face and instead of ducking or stopping him, I let it slam into my jaw. I stumble back and crash into the wall, making a painting fall and glass shatters everywhere from the frame. Stan is quick to grab at the collar of my shirt with one hand, keeping me in his grip while his other hand is balled into a fish and crashing down on my ace repeatedly.
Rushed footsteps sound from the stairs and suddenly the h/c girl is standing behind Hurley, trying to rip him off me. âDad what the hell are you doing? Get off him!â She yells frantically, ripping at the back of his shirt and attempting to grab his arm, stopping him from hitting me. Well, at least plan B worked. Now that I have cuts on my face, Y/n can now prove her skills as a nurse. Now that sheâs down here, I donât need to get hit anymore. I press my boot to Stanâs stomach and push him back, watching him fall back and catch himself on the table.
âWhat⌠Did you⌠call me?â Stan huffs directing his question to Y/n. She however, doesnât care what he has to say at this moment, crouching down to where Iâm sat on the floor and grabbing my face in between her hands. She replies with a quick âhe already knows dadâ before examining the cuts on my cheek and lip. I can feel blood dripping down my left cheek while a coppery taste fills my mouth. âIâll be right backâ she reassures me, standing up to probably go get a first aid kit. âDonât touch himâ she grumbles to her bloody knuckled father.
I take this time to lift my body up, sitting with my back resting against the wall. Hurleyâs eyes stare daggers into me before he walks over to where all the glass shattered, starting to pick up shards. âYou do not tell a soul about her my daughter, you understand me?â He seethes, staring at me from under his eyebrows, showing nothing but anger with a warning stare.
âYes sirâ I grunted, hearing Y/n walking back into the room. She carries a bowel with water in it and a wash cloth, in her other hand is a small cardboard box that looks like the size of a cigarette packet. She kneels in front of me, placing the bowel onto the floor beside her. Without warning she grabs my chin and forces me to look in her direction. She stares at the cuts on my cheek, narrowing her eyes slightly. âTheyâre not deep enough for stitches. So consider yourself luckyâ she mutters, not seeming to be her happy self.
With her eyes hard and jaw set only makes me like her more. She takes the washcloth to wipe away blood from my swollen cheek, rinsing the blood into the water and making it slowly turn into a murky red colour. I watch her face closely as she fixes me up, her e/c eyes fixated on my cuts. My eyes slowly travel down to her lips, wondering how soft and warm they must feel against mine. My eyes wonder slightly lower to her neck, wanting nothing more than to lean forward to bite and lick at her soft skin. Then my eyes wander even lower to see just the right amount of cleavage showing from her simple black shirt. I would love to see what she looks like without the shirt on, standing in all her glory. I would love seeing her underneath me, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in pleasure.
I blink rapidly, forcing the lust out of my eyes. She was too busy cleaning up the cuts that she didnât notice me admiring her beauty. Sheâs so innocent and kind that it makes me feel bad for thinking about her in such dirty ways. But I canât help but feel drawn to her. I donât think Iâm necessarily drawn to her sexually - though thatâs defiantly there - but the way she treats me is unlike any other person. For instance, when I told her everything about my past, she didnât cry or show sympathy, even though I know she wanted to. She held herself together for me and Iâm thankful for that. Having people look at you with nothing but sympathy in theyâre eyes, itâs one of the worst feelings.
âLook at her go. And youâre saying she wouldnât be good enough for the jobâ I speak up, needing to distract my from the beautiful girl in front on me, touching me. Stan is still trying to pick up shards of glass on the floor, placing the large pieces on the table and holding the smaller parts in his hands. His head snaps up to look at the two of us, narrowing his eyes at me. âI never said she wouldnât be good enough, sheâd be the best there is!â He argued, waiting for a response from Y/n and Iâm assuming he didnât want to hear what left her mouthâŚ
âYou can both kiss my assâ she snarled, not quite happy with either of us. Ignoring all the fighting that had previously happened, Hurley and I exchanged glances, unsure of what the hell to say. That was nothing like the innocent Y/n that I know. She seemed to notice our looks, sighing and throwing the blood soaked cloth into the bowel of red water. âYou-â she points to me with a soft rage in her eyes, not quite being able to be completely angry. âIâm not stupid. I know you wanted this to happen. Get him to punch you so that Iâd come running down here to patch you up and show him that I can be a nurseâ she takes a deep breath before continuing âyou basically just got beaten up to make me get the job - which still wonât happen by the way!â Her voice was soft and almost tankful at the beginning but it quickly changed to her being angry again. âAnd you!â She turned to Stan âyou have to solve everything with violence! Why canât you just talk like a normal person?â She ranted, finishing with a sigh.
âThatâs not the big issue here, Y/n. The problem is that this sick son of a bitch wants you in on all this!â Stan points at me harshly and I shake my head. Y/n goes to open her mouth to explain but I interject. âIf we get injured out there - cause we do, quite a lot - we donât have to risk going to a hospital and getting hunted down while weâre in robes that donât cover our asses. Y/n would be waiting at the hotel and she could patch us up when we get back if we havenât already bled out in some alleywayâ I tried to convince him and I could see the cogs turning in his brain.
âPlease dad? I wanna helpâ she added, showing just how much this means to her. When it looked like her dad was going to walk away she huffed and turned back to me, wiping my bottom lip with the cloth gently. My stomached did a weird flip thing at the sudden contact. Her eyes look sad and her lips are pressed into a thin line. I reach out and place my hand on top of hers thatâs resting on her knee. Her eyes meet mine and I show a small smile, she smiles too but it doesnât reach her eyes. If she werenât around someone then she would probably cry, having her hopes up and then have that hope ripped away so quickly.
What we didnât know was that Stan was watching us the whole time. A loud sigh escapes his lips before he proclaims âJust for something small. No major terrorist hunt downsâ he runs a hand over his head and Y/nâs face lights up. She stands up and quickly rushes over to him to give him a hug. Stan smiles sadly as he wraps his arms around her in a loving hug. âIâll make sure Iâm safe at all times, I promiseâ she reassures him, breaking away from the hug to press a kiss to his cheek.
âI hate to say it but, you can go with Rapp. Heâs a dick but heâs good at what he doesâ my eyes widen in shock at Hurleyâs words. Heâs trusting me to take her with me? Heâs never trusted me with anything, let alone his daughter! This is when I stand up from my position on the floor and walk over to shake his hand. Y/n stops me before I can stretch my arm out by wrapping her arms around my neck in a warm embrace. I place my hands on the small of her back as she whispers a quiet 'thank youâ in my ear, the corner of my mouth lifts up at the words.
A week later
Rome. Beautiful Rome. Even the view from in the plane was gorgeous. I know Iâll be stuck in a hotel for most of the time but itâs still a nice experience. Mitch is here to take down a terrorist that seems to be lacking in the smart department. Both my dad and Mitch thought itâd be best if I didnât know much about the mission but the young Assassin told me some of the details while we were on the plane. A man who I donât know the name of as Mitch thought itâd be best if I didnât know, was planing to start an attack. However, the man didnât do a good job at keeping it on the down low. Kennedy found out almost immediately, informing Stan to send someone out. And since the guy weâre teaching down seems to be pretty stupid, my dad said yes to me coming. He was definitely worried and the long, bone crushing hug before I got on the plane told me so.
We had arrived at the hotel about two hours ago. The first thing Mitch did was check for hidden cameras and look out the widow to see if any cars had followed them. We seemed to be safe but he still shut the curtains âstay away from widows for now, just to be safeâ he warned and I nodded, disappointed that I wouldnât be able to look at the view. However I understood why and kept my mouth shut.
It only now just hit me that I might not even be needed here at all. If Mitch can take down this guy and comes back untouched, then my only purpose being here is to watch television and read. Not that Iâm hoping for him to come back hurt, but it just makes me feel useless if Iâm stuck in here doing nothing while he is out there saving people. âI have to go out at seven, apparently our guy will be meeting his mistress at quarter past. Will you be okay here by yourself?â Mitch asks with a hint of worry in his eyes.
âI donât really have a choice, do I?â I chuckle and he slowly walks over to me, his chest almost pressed against mine as the tip of our shoes clink together. My breath gets caught in my throat seeing him so close, his whiskey eyes show concern for me. His fingertips reach out and grab a piece of my h/c hair, tucking it behind my ear then resting his large, strong hand on my cheek. âIâll be fineâ I swallow thickly, having trouble catching my breath. I canât help but lean into his touch, placing my smaller hand on top of his. His eyes drift down to my lips and on instinct I wet my bottom lip with my tongue. Seeing his eyes watching my lips only makes me look at his, admiring that perfect Cupidâs bow. He sees my staring at his lips as an invitation, slowly leaning down to press his against mine. However they never meet.
A buzzing noice coming from his jeans pocket makes us jump apart from each other, suddenly having an awkward silence between us. As he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone, I scratch the back of my neck and press my lips into a thin line. âHello?â Mitch sighs into the phone, I watch him as his eyes stay fixated on me while he listens to whoever is on the other line. His eyes quickly flicker down my body and returns to my eyes, if I werenât looking into his whiskey orbs then I wouldnât have noticed them scanning my body. âWere safe and sound, sir. And how about instead of calling every hour why donât I just text youâ he states rather than asks. Hearing him say 'sirâ indicates that heâs taking to my father.
They talk for a couple more seconds before Mitch stuffs his phone back in his pocket. âWas that a mission call or a checking-in-on-my-daughter call?â I ask with a faint chuckle, trying to ignore the fact that we almost were about to make out. âDefinitely checking in on you, he just added a bunch of words on the end to make it seem like he was talking about the mission insteadâ he scratches the back of his head as he scoffs, still feeling the awkwardness. âI should probably get ready to head out. And you should get some rest⌠You know, jet lagâ he offers, nodding his head and I look down at my shoes.
âI donât think I will be able to sleep while youâre out there. Iâll be too scaredâ I donât know why I said it but I did. I glance up at him through my eyelashes, feeling a deep blush slowly creep up on my cheeks. âYouâre safe here. What are you scared of?â He asks like Iâm a little kid scared of the boogie man. âLoosing youâ if I wasnât blushing before, I certainly am now. Itâs as if my mouth has a mind of its own, spilling out words I havenât even thought of saying yet. I know heâs good at what he does and I shouldnât be worried about never seeing him again because I will, I know it. But there a little voice in the back of my mind telling me that this could be our last conversation.
âFuck itâ he mutters under his breath before taking two quick strides towards me, taking my face in between his large, soft hands. His eyes closed as his two pink lips came crashing down on mine. I hardly have time to react, at first my eyes only widened in shock of his sudden actions, but I quickly started kissing back, letting my eyelids fall shut. My hands slowly creep up to touch his arms, sliding up past his buff shoulders, over his neck and into his almost-black, soft locks. His lips are not as soft as I imagined but that only adds to the surprise; slightly rough and a little chapped but all the more delicious. His tongue swipes along my bottom lip, sending shivers throughout my whole body. I part my lips and let his tongue invade my mouth, letting a moan slide out when our tongues touch and glide together. He tastes good - no amazing! Addictive.
His hands slide down from my face to my arms where he gently locks our fingers together with one hand as the other latches onto my waist. We suddenly remember that we need to eventually catch our breath, whining at the loss of our lips touching when he pulls back. Our breathes are uneven and heavy, hands clasping onto each other just so we can feel each other a little longer. âI wasnât lying when I said I should get readyâ he pants, his hand rubbing small circles on my clothed waist. I nod my head, leaning forward to press my forehead to his, just to catch my breath. Mitch doesnât protest against me not letting him go for the moment, instead he closes his eyes and breathes in my scent.
âI donât want my dad to get mad at you for being late, so I should probably let you go nowâ I whisper, fearing that Iâll scare him off if I talk to loud. He nods in understanding and slowly pulls himself away from me. I suddenly feel cold without his hands on me.I crave his touch like a lovesick teenager. And all of a sudden, that awkward tension is back in between us. He brings his hand up to rub at the back of his neck, sucking in a breath before walking over towards the bathroom to get himself ready.
âHey, Mitch?â I quickly call out and stop him in his tracks, he doesnât turn around to face me but his head gently leans to the side, indicating that heâs listening âThanks for getting me hereâ I had already thanked him enough on the plane flight over here, he would shake it away as if it were nothing, but this time I felt like he actually heard me. The corner of his mouth turning up in that gorgeous smirk, not saying a word before disappearing into the bathroom.
Mitch had left a couple hours ago and I right about not being able to get some sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind would conjure up different ways of him dying. The sick image being burned into my brain and the back of my eye lids so that any time I closed my eyes I would see the life drain from him. So I gave up on trying to sleep, waddling into the lounge room with a blanket wrapped around me and trying to distract my mind with the television. Surprisingly it worked, but I was anxiously bitting my nails as my eyes were glued to the screen.
I sat like that for about an hour and a half before deciding that I should make myself a cup of tea. If I make coffee then I have no hope of sleeping at all tonight. As I watch into the kitchen I see that the clock on the microwave reads '9:30â pm. That means that Mitch has only been gone for two and a half hours. It feels like so much longer. Grabbing a tea bag and a mug from the cupboard above my head, I then boil the jug. I stand and wait for about two minutes before itâs finished boiling, poring the hot, steamy liquid into the mug, popping the tea bag in afterwards. I then grab the milk from the fridge and the sugar from the cupboard, finishing making my hot beverage.
âShit fuck!â I was lucky I wasnât holding my drink in my hands otherwise I would have spilt it all over me. Grunting and panting can be heard from the front entrance, however I didnât hear the door open or close. Without thinking I grab a knife out of the top draw and walk out into the living room where I heard more cusses coming from. My heart beat increases and I have to hold my breath so that my panting doesnât alert where I am. However, before I can turn the corner into the living room, a hand shoots out from behind the wall, grasping the weapon from my hands. I shriek in surprise, jumping back and pressing myself against the wall.
A mop of black hair and the shine of whiskey eyes is what makes my heart immediately slow back down. Mitch throws the knife to the floor and shakes his head out of anger. âMitch, Iâm so sorry! I didnât know it was youâ I apologise, flicking the lights on. I gasp at the sight before me; a bloody and beaten version of the man Iâve developed feeling for. His left shoulder is bleeding so much that itâs leaving small splotches of red wherever he walks, the circle shaped wound  standing out from his deep blue shirt, immediately shows me that heâs been shot. He has a few more scratches here and there but they donât seem to be bad enough for even a bandaid. He has blood splattered on his neck and cheek, but something tells me itâs not his.
âWell, whereâs my nurse?â He tries to joke but the pain in his voice makes my eyes widen. I quickly dart back into the kitchen and grab my tea before returning to Mitch, grabbing his non-wounded arm and wrapping it over my shoulder as I help him wobble over to the couch. He must have gotten kicked in he knee by the way heâs walking. I lean down so that he can fall onto the couch softly, though he still grunts in pain. âSorry, just put pressure here and - uh - drunk this!â I place his hand right where it can lessen the blood flow while I pop the mug into his other hand. He might not be able to drink it since I put it in his left hand, which is the same arm he got shot in. But I leave that alone while I rush into the bedroom where my bags are and take out the first aid kit that I packed. Itâs not really a kit, more like suit case.
I return to the couch and kneel in front of him on the floor. âIâd hate to see the other guyâ I mutter, knowing that heâs probably got a billet between his eyes now. Mitch glares at the floor while I grab wipes out from the suitcase and start cleaning around his bullet wound, finding it incredibly difficult with his shirt still on. âNot a scratch on himâ he sighs and I furrow my brows âapparently we were the stupid ones. This guy had a lot more men we had no clue about⌠He got away, while I had ten of his men shooting at me. Iâm surprised only one of 'em got meâ I sigh, knowing this wasnât Mitchâs fault at all.
âHow many did you kill? Apart from the one that got awayâ I ask, still dabbing away at his wound. When I donât get an answer, I look up to his eyes and see that he is too scared to tell me. âMitch, I already know that you have killed people before we even met, and I didnât run away. So just tell meâ I press. His eyes shift down to mine and he lets out the shortest breath before admitting âall of themâ.
âGoodâ I didnât like that I was relieved to hear that all those people lost their lives at Mitchâs hand. But, something about knowing theyâre not going to come back to hurt him makes me worry a lot less. âIâm gonna need to take your shirt off. Itâs impossible to do anything with it onâ I explain and he visibly tenses up. I furrow my eyebrows, thinking that I hurt him, an apology about to leave my lips when I see that heâs uncomfortable. âI donât want toâ he mumbles, taking a long sip of the tea I gave him.
âYouâre not a difficult toddler, Mitch. I need to get this wound cleaned or it can get infected⌠or youâll just bleed outâ I explain, tugging at the hem of his shirt. He sighs through his nostrils, his eyes showing sign of fear or uncertainty. âWhat are you afraid of?â I ask gently, placing my small hand on top of his, attempting to ease his thoughts. He stares into my eyes, having an unspoken conversation. He slowly grabs his shirt to take it off, the look of uncertainty more defined on his facials. I grab onto the hem of his shirt and help him lift it over his head, placing my hand under the fabric to make sure it doesnât rub against his wound.
I almost gasp when I see him shirtless. Surprisingly not from the fact that he has a flawless physique, but because of the scars that are scattered all over his skin. Instead of staring with my mouth open like a goldfish, I kneel back down and get stuck into work. I go back to wiping away the blood so I can get a better look at his wound, seeing that the bullet has exited through the other side of his shoulder. That makes my job easier. Once the wound is clean, I wipe over it with rubbing alcohol, apologising when he hisses. After that, itâs time to patch him up.
âThis doesnât bother you?â He asks curiously, gesturing to his naked torso. Â Those words alone, makes me want to wrap him in my arms and tell him how perfect he is in my eyes. Instead, I give him a wipe and shove it in his hand to clean the blood off his face. âWhy would it?â I ask as I start ripping open the packaging for a bandage. I can feel his eyes on me, watching my every move, every breath and every emotion that shows on my face, trying to read what Iâm feeling. âNo reason. Forget itâ he fumbles with the wipe in his hand before scrubbing at the dried blood on his cheeks and forehead.
Iâm not liking the fact that weâre pretending we never kissed. I know that he is hurt but he doesnât have to act like it didnât happened. However, Iâm guilty of not bringing it up too. I donât even know why Iâm acting like it didnât happened, cause honestly it was the greatest kiss Iâve ever experienced. And I like to experience it again. Maybe Iâm just keeping my trap shut because he is. I mean, if I were to randomly bring it up now, then it would make things ten times awkward. Maybe he regrets it? Maybe he wishes he never gave in. Maybe he just felt sorry for me and thought the kiss would shut me up. Who knows.
Since the bleeding has come to a slow dripping instead of gushing, I quickly stitch over it a couple times before putting a large, square bandaid on it. When I threaded the curved needle into his flesh he gasped at the sudden pain it caused, thrusting his hand onto my shoulder as he squeezed. I looked up at him and realised that he discarded the tea, placing it onto the table beside the couch so that he could grab onto me. When I was done, he retracted his hand away like nothing had just happened. When the giant bandaid is placed into his shoulder, I then stand up and walk around the couch so that I can do that all over again to the exit wound. When I stitched up this side, Mitch had nothing to cling onto except the couch, so he would clench his fists or grip at the leather.
Finally, after patching up both sides, I then wrap the bandage around and under his armpit so that it both held the bandaids more securely and applied pressure. I tap him on the top of his head and smile âall done. You were a great patientâ I chirp as I pack away all the things back into the suitcase. âYou were a great nurse. You quite probably saved my life today, docâ he breathes as he admires my handy work. âYouâre smart, you probably could have done all that yourselfâ I chuckle, kicking the suitcase aside for now as I plop down into the couch beside the wounded Assassin. Mitch leans over towards me until I can feel his hot breath on my cheek. âShut up and take the complimentâ he sighs before grabbing my chin with his thumb and index finger, turning my head to look at him.
Just as our lips were about to meet, I open my mouth to speak. Needing to get an answer to the question that been bugging me for about half an hour now.
âWhy did you think your scars would bother me?â I whisper, afraid that my asking would make him turn cold and give me the silent treatment. However, a small, sad smile plays on his lips. âBecause theyâre not pretty, Y/n. I look like a monsterâ he murmured as he watched his fingers play with the strands of my hair. A sudden anger washes through me and I get defensive.
âAnd who told you that?â I blurted, wanting nothing more than for him to understand that they are apart of him now, and he should learn to love himself more. âNo one. The looks on peopleâs faces tell me enoughâ he mumbled and I finally snap, getting rid of my shyness for the moment.
I push him away from me so that I have to room to get onto my knees, throwing one over his thighs so that Iâm now straddling him. I grasp his beautiful face in between my small hands and force my lips on his. His hands automatically latch onto my waist, letting himself sink into the kiss. Just as I felt his tongue slide across my bottom lip, I pulled away, panting heavily at the rough and passionate kiss. Hearing the little whimper leave his mouth when I pulled away made my stomach flip with a certain feeling that Iâm not sure how to name. âMay I?â I puff out, hovering my hand over his chest. He seems hesitant at first but he slowly nods his head.
My hand gently grazed over his skin, my fingertips brushing over a thick, pink scar right on his left pec. My other hand went down a bit lower to his belly button, tracing the small but noticeable scar just above. âTheyâre beautifulâ I blurted, by really wanting the words to leave my lips. Mitch watches me and curiosity fills his eyes. âHowâ he uttered, gently rubbing patterns up and down my clothed back. I continue tracing different scars and marks on his body, finding them intriguing. I glance into his whiskey eyes before averting them back down to his chest, a deep blush covering my cheeks. âBecause each and every one could have possibly killed youâ I keep my voice at a whisper. âTo me, itâs just seems like theyâre a reminder. Reminding you that you are alive. Even after all the bad things youâve been through⌠Youâre still here, still breathingâ I confess, feeling his hands slowly come to a stop, resting on my lower back.
âWhy are you so good to me?â He asks, but before I can answer, he has already attached his lips back to mine. While the kiss is forceful and rough, thereâs still a sweetness and passion within it. The room is silent apart from the sound of heavy breaths and lips smacking against lips. My hands find his hair and I pull, forcing his head to fall back while I bite on his bottom lip and drag it out until it rips away from my teeth. He groans and wraps both arms around my back, squeezing me into him roughly as his lips find mine once again.
This kiss clearly took a turn, from loving and sweet to rough and dominate. Any person with half a brain can tell where this is going⌠Or the tent forming in Mitchâs pants. Feeling a wetness staring to pool in my panties, I begin to grind and circle my hips into his, letting my tongue slip into his mouth when he growls in pleasure. His hands finally move from my back, down to my ass. His large hands grab and pinch my cheeks and I moan at the contact. I keep one hand in his black locks while my other hand slides down to play and pull at the tuft of hair on his chest. Our tongues slide and glide along each other, both of us exploring the others mouth and savouring every moment of it.
His hands slowly slide up, under my shirt and around so that theyâre resting on my stomach. My skin tingles wherever he touches me, his fingers gliding softly upwards to cup my breasts. He moans when he realises Iâm not wearing a bra. I gasp like a horny teenager when his fingers clasp my nipples, pinching and quickly making them hard.
âMy shirtâs off, so why are you still wearing yours?â He breathes into my mouth, pulling away slowly so a string of our mixed saliva is whatâs keeping our mouths connected. Usually I find that kind of stuff gross, but seeing his lust filled eyes and feeling his fingers pinching my nipples makes me all the more wetter. âI helped you take off yours, so help me take off mineâ I smirk, loving his hazy, lust-ridden eyes on me.
Instead of sliding the fabric off me like any other man would, his hands stay under it and pull, causing a large tear to rip down the middle. My breasts bounce out of the tight fabric into his vision and I gasp as the cool air hits my already hardened nipples. With one more pull the fabric slides off my arms and onto the floor while Mitch goes back to playing with my boobs. However, he replaces his hands with his mouth, sucking and biting my cleavage to the point where I have blue and purple marks left there.
I close my eyes and let the pleasurable feeling of Mitchâs mouth on my skin take over. While his tongue works wonders on my hardened nubs, his hands rub up and down my thighs, getting closer and closer to where I need him most. My legs jolt uncontrollably as his hands gets closer, making him smirk around my nipple. He takes this as a sign to gently lower me down on the couch, keeping one hand on my thigh while the other supports my back. He slowly lays me down and hovers over me, putting his hands on either side of my head.
Mitch pecked my lips before kissing and licking down my jaw and neck. He leaves sweet, opened mouthed kisses on my skin, making me moan and pull his hair once he found and bit down on my sweet spot. As he pleasures me, I unknowingly trace all the scars I can feel. Mitch seemed to like the gesture as he hummed into my skin and licked the tender spot he just bit and sucked. Once again he pressed a gentle kiss to my swollen lips before trailing his lips down through the valley of my breasts. He then stuck his tongue out to lick the rest of the way down. My skin burns under his touch, wanting more and more.
As his head hovers above my clothed heat, he looks me in the eye, silently asking for my permission. I give a gentle smile and nod, using my fingertips to brush his hair out of his face. He rubs his hands down my sides until his fingers disappear into my pants, he slowly behind to pull then down my thighs but I stop him. âWait, wait, waitâ I breathe out, placing my hands on top of his. âWhat? Are you alright?â He asks concerned, immediately stopping his actions.
âI am, but you just got shot, isnât this possibly the worst time to do⌠this?â I explain and a smirk plays onto his lips. âIâve been shot quite a few times, Y/n. If I were in that much pain do you really think Iâd be so willing to fuck you?â He chuckles, pressing sweet kisses just under my bellybutton. My heat starts throbbing at his dirty language. I shrug my shoulders and giggle as he looks up at me. His smirk disappears and he suddenly looks worried again. âUnless you donât wanna do this? I donât wanna force you into anything you donât wanna doâ instead of answering him, I simply slide my pants and panties down my legs.
I spread my legs open for him, pushing away any insecure feelings I have as smirk down at him. He smirks back and starts kissing and licking my thighs, getting closer and closer to where I need him most. âYouâre so fucking beautifulâ he says right before licking a long strip though my folds. I gasp and fist the leather couch as his tongue flicks over my clit. He hums and goes right back in, attaching his mouth to my bundle of nerves and sucking hard. âMitchâ his name leaves my lips in a moan, my hands coming down to his hair.
Itâs unlike anything Iâve ever felt with a guy. I mean, Iâve only had sex with two other guys in my life but Mitch is different, better, sexier. I have to bite down on my lip hard, stopping myself from moaning and groaning like a porn star. My hips buck off the couch, trying to get even more friction happening. However, Mitch pins my hips down, only making me wanna squirm more.
He starts kitten licking my pussy and my legs begin to twitch every time his hot, wet tongue grazes my clit. âYouâre so wetâ he murmurs, sending vibrations through my heat. He glides his tongue downwards, keeping eye contact with me as he circles it around my entrance. He grabs my thighs and props my legs up on his shoulders - being mindful of his billet wound - so he has a better angle, then his tongue darts in.
He pushes his tongue in as far as he can and starts flicking it against my walls. I unintentionally clench and unclench, bringing my hand up to my mouth so I have something to bite down on. I can feel every little movement inside of me and the feeling is bringing me closer to the edge. As he laps at the inside of my pussy with fast motions, his nose brushes against my already swollen clit, causing me to tighten my legs around him.
He suddenly turns into an animal, grabbing my breast roughly with one hand, squeezing and pinching, while his other hand keeps me pressed flat on the the couch. His tongue rubs roughly on the roof of my pussy, back and forth, back and forth, until my legs canât stop shaking. My hand begins to sting and I feel a warm liquid running down my wrist from biting down too hard. However, Mitchâs mouth causes me to completely push that out of my mind.
All of a sudden, his tongue leaves and the attaches itself to my clit while a long, slender finger is being pushed deep inside me. He sucks harshly on my throbbing bundle of nerves as his finger curls up and thrusts roughly in and out of me. The heels of my feet dig into his back, my toes curling while my fingers pull at his almost-black hair.
I clench tightly around his finger, making it harder for him to continue pumping in and out. With my legs shaking and my clit throbbing uncontrollably, I can tell Iâm about to come. I peel my hand away from my mouth and let a loud moan echo throughout room. âM-Mitch, Iâm g-gonna comeâ I pant, waiting for him to slow down the pace. However my shaky words only makes him speed up.
He swirls his tongue, collecting every bit of liquid he could before going straight back to sucking my clit. His stubble scratches at my thighs and folds, creating a delicious burning feeling. He added another finger into my dripping pussy, stretching my walls as he pumped at an unnatural pace. Screams of his name escaped from my lips and turned into gasps and whines.
He started using his tongue to spell out the alphabet on my sensitive bud, keeping his lips in place like a cage around my clit. Hearing me moan his name made him groan, sending more vibrations through my core. My hands have a death-like grip in his hair, my body stiffening slightly when I feel my orgasm. He bit down on my swollen bud and thatâs what sent me over the edge.
My entire body shakes as my climax takes place, Mitch doesnât stop his pace, letting me ride out my high on his fingers. He moves his tongue down to my entrance once again and collects every bit of fluid, lapping it all up. As my body relaxes onto the couch, Mitch takes his tongue off me and pulls out his fingers. His hazy, lust-filled eyes bore right into mine as he sticks his two slender fingers in his mouth, licking off my climax. I can see my juices glistening on his chin as he takes care of that as well.
âYou taste delicious, babyâ he growls, slowly inching up towards my face. I feel a blush creep up on my cheeks as he looks at me like his last meal. My eyes travel down his body and towards a very noticeable tent in his pants. His lips latching onto mine breaks my longing stare at his clothed erection. I can taste myself on his lips but I donât mind.
I let my hand wander down his beautifully sculpted body and towards his manhood. My hand grabs him and begins stroking him though his pants. I can feel how big he is and I can feel my pussy getting wet again. As I stroke him, he breaks the kiss to gasp softly in pleasure.
âMitch, pleaseâ I beg, bitting my lip as I watch my hand outline his hard member. Heâs like a drug to me. I can feel myself getting lost in his presence, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck me senseless. Â Though my body still feels tingly from my previous orgasm, the need for him inside me is taking over.
âI was planing on teasing you some more but if I wait any longer Iâm gonna explodeâ Mitch groans as he stands up from the couch, fumbling with his belt buckle and pulling it out of all the loops in one swift motion. He drops the belt on the ground and pulls his pants down to his ankles, along with his boxers. I have to bite my lip so I donât let my jaw drop to the floor. He is big and I worry that itâs going to hurt, but it also makes me want it even more. He kicks his pants and boxers off then kneels back into the couch, grabbing behind my knee and pulling my hips flush with his.
His tip is leaking with pre come and I can see the veins pulsing on his shaft, he has just the right amount of black hair that leads down off his happy trail. I wait as patiently as possible as he grabs himself and pumps his length in his hand a few times. He jerks his erection the way he prefers, coating his cock in his pre come. I reach my leg around his waist and pull him in closer to me. He smirks but gets the hint, hovering over me with one hand beside my head while the other wraps around my neck.
âYou ready, baby girl?â He purrs like a kitten and I nod my head eagerly. Iâm loving the names heâs calling me, feelings my heart pick up a beat every time he calls me something different. His hand squeezes around my neck, stopping the blood from flowing to my head. He takes his other hand and grabs himself again, sliding the tip through my folds and circling my clit. My body shudders at the feeling, still feeling the aftermaths of my previous climax.
âYou better do something now, Rappâ I groan, thrusting my hips against his for more friction. His forehead read against mine as we both stare into each otherâs eyes. Our breaths are heavy as we both await for what we both want. His tip is at my entrance now, ever so slowly inching inside. I bite my lip again and wrap my hand around his neck, burying my head in his good shoulder. âC'mon, Mitch. Youâre killing me hereâ I moan, trying to move my hips again but his body is flush with mine, keeping me in place.
All of a sudden he snaps his hips into mine, thrusting his whole length inside me. My juices made it easy for him to slide in. I squeal and bite down on his shoulder from the pain of his large cock stretching me out. He fills me up nicely but the pain is a bit to much. I cling desperately onto him, silently thanking him for not moving just yet. âYou good?â He whispers in my ear, concern present in his voice. I take my teeth off his shoulder and rest my forehead on his neck. âYeah, I just need a secâ I breathe out.
I can feel every inch of him; his pulsing veins, his perfect mushroom tip, his size. But I can also feel my walls stretching and pulling to fit him in. My entrance is burning from the brutal opening but Iâm not mad. The pain lessens and Mitch pressing soft, loving kisses to my neck and shoulder is helping. âOkay, I think Iâm goodâ I whisper, nodding my head slightly.
He lifts his head up to look me in the eyes, concern still showing. I smile softly and he presses a sweet kiss to my lips before slowly moving. Goosebumps
cover my body as he slowly thrusts in and out of me, the dull ache being forgotten over the pleasure. It only just hit me that Iâve only known this man for about two weeks. Usually Iâd be mad at myself for sleeping with a man I hardly know, but Mitch and I have a connection and I really do like him.
He starts picking up the speed, thrusting faster and harder. I begin to clench around him, gripping his shoulders tightly. A sharp hiss comes from his lips and I realise that I was putting a little too much pressure on his wounded shoulder. âSorryâ I pant, moving my hands under his arms to claw and scratch at his back.
Every time he trusted up, he would rub against me in ways that makes my body jolt and shiver. Loud moans and gasps of his name leave my lips causing him to pump his cock inside my warm, wet pussy even harder. âFuck, youâre so tight. I donât think Iâm gonna be able to last longâ I moan at his words, taking it as a compliment. His hand squeezes around my neck again, making me feel light headed from the blood being cut off. However, it only adds to the feeling of his hips circling into mine.
âHarder, Mitch. Harder, pleaseâ I donât know why Iâm even asking for it, his hips are already snapping against mine roughly. However, he listens to my pleas and pulls his dick out, only to slam back inside of me harshly. He repeats this over and over until Iâm practically screaming his name. Nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin and our moans fill the dark, quiet room.
His rough thrusting causes him to hit every perfect spot, making me to dig my nails into his back, sliding them down until Iâm sure there are red marks left behind. My breasts bounce each time he pushes inside me, my walls clench around him making it harder for him to continue at his pace. However, I canât help it. His lips attach to the tip of my chest, sucking purple marks into my skin to cover up his sounds of pleasure. He lets a grunt or moan out every once in a while but I can tell heâs trying to be quiet. Every little noise he makes pushes me closer and closer to my second orgasm of the night.
His grip on my neck tightens and his thrusts become sloppy, I can tell heâs almost there with me. âCome inside me. I want you to fill me upâ I pant, rolling my hips along with his. He moans at my words, trying his best to keep up the pace. âYouâre gonna come with meâ he demands, taking his hand of my neck and trailing down my body to rub harsh circles on my clit with his thumb. My hands find his hair and I pull roughly at his roots, tightening my legs around his waist. I look down between our bodyâs to where he disappears inside of me, causing my legs to spasm and jolt with each thrust.
âIâm gonna come! I canât hold it any longerâ I whimper, clinging onto him for dear life. My pussy clamps down on his cock and he starts twitching inside me. âAll good, baby. Iâm right there with youâ he pants, sliding out of me to thrust harshly in one more time. With his thumb pressing down on my bundle of nerves, and feeling his wet cock pulsating and twitching finally brings me to my release.
I scream and whimper as I shake uncontrollably, my juices leak around his cock, down my butt cheeks and onto the couch. My vision is nothing but black spots as my head spins. Mitch thrusts one last time before he comes to a stop, his cock twitches more violently, coating my walls with his release.
Sweat covers both our bodyâs, our heat radiating off of us and into the cold room. Mitch rests his head on my chest, while I stroke his wavy locks. My legs still twitch and my stomach still has that tight feeling but I can feel it slowly going away. I close my eyes and listen to our unsteady, heavy breaths as we come down from our highs.
Mitch presses a kiss to my chest where his head was resting, before he sits back up. He leans down to the suit case full of medical supplies and grabs out a cloth. He gently rubs my sore thighs while he cleans our mixed liquids off me and the couch. âThank youâ I whisper, feeling exhaustion take over my body.
Mitch squeezes down beside me, wrapping his arms around my waist as I burry my face in his chest. I place my hands in between us as gently trace all the scars I can. He shudders and tightens his grip on me, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. I feel his lips curl up into a smile before he breaks the comfortable silence.
âSo, what was that dirty talk you were doing? Thatâs certainly not the innocent Y/n I knowâ he smirks, a deep shade of red quickly covers my cheeks. I punch his chest playfully and quickly press a kiss to where I hit. He chuckles and so do I. âWe should do this again some timeâ he suggests.
I prop myself up so I can look him in the eye, smirking happily. âDefinitelyâ I whisper, pressing my lips to his once I see that beautiful lopsided smile of his. He gently nibbles on my bottom lip and I grant him access, parting my lips and letting his tongue slip in. This kiss is gentle and filled with love, not rough like the other kisses weâve shared.
Mitch was the first to pull away, a worried look washing over his features and a groan leaves past his lips. I place a soft hand on his cheek, feeling his stubble scratch at my skin. My eyebrows furrow in confusion as I watch the Assassin. âYour dad is gonna kill meâ he states, I can already see his brain working for explanations or excuses as to why he fucked his bosses daughter.
âHeâs not going to knowâ I stroke gentle patterns on his cheek with my thumb, convincing him that everything will be okay. And if not, everything will be okay for this moment. However, it doesnât work, heâs too smart for that. âHeâll knowâ Mitch confirms, taking my hand off his cheek and holding it in his.
âYeah youâre rightâ I agree. My father has many great skills and itâs 100% positive that he will be able to sense something between us when we get back home. A smile covers my lips, too giddy and tired to think of all the negative things right now. âWell, might as well make the most of it now thenâ I suggest, slipping my tongue into Mitchâs mouth and kissing him passionately.
While I could tell he was getting into the kiss, he pushed me off him softly.
âTomorrow. You need to sleepâ he raises his brows as he says this, seeing how droopy my eyes are. Well, I did  have two orgasms tonight so itâs probably best to get some rest. I smile softly and press a quick peck to his lips.
âWhy are you so good to me?â I quote what he said earlier in the night. He shakes his head and hold me back in his arms like he did a few moments ago. I wrap my hands around his back and rub small patterns, stoping myself when I feel all the nail marks Iâve left on his skin. I keep my mouth shut for the moment, knowing that itâs probably payback for the purple marks on my breasts, and we will talk about it in the morning. But right now itâs sleep time.
A few minutes later when I âfell asleepâ I hear Mitch start whispering something as he strokes the hair from my face. âI know I shouldnât, I know itâs wrongâ - I keep my eyes closed and even out my breathing so it appears that Iâm asleep - âbut I think Iâve fallen in love with youâ he confesses. I know that his next words are true and itâs probably because of what happened to Katrina.
âAnd that scares the hell out of meâ
#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan o'brien imagines#dylan o'brien smut#dylan o'brien fluff#dylan x reader#dylan obrien x reader#Mitch Rapp#mitch#mitch rapp imagine#mitch rapp imagines#mitch rapp fluff#mitch rapp smut#mitch x reader#mitch rapp x reader#reader insert#stiles#stiles stilinski#stiles imagine#stiles imagines#stiles x reader#void stiles#void stiles imagine#void stiles imagines#void stiles x reader#american assassin#american assassin au#aa#vince flynn
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Last Nightâs Waking Fear
Author: Roseringleader13 Pairing: Reader x Dylan OâBrien (but can be read as any of his characters really) Word count: 1,960 Warning: brain tumor, future death, depression, night terrors, fatal illness A/N: So I would like to make it clear that this is written from a first person point of view for a reason, and there arenât any character defining attributes regarding the reader for a reason as well. I know this can be a very touchy subject for some people, because this is a personal thing I am dealing with in my own life. Any feedback regarding the fic is welcomed. Tags: @golddaggers @mf-despair-queen @skeletonangel1998
It was these nights that scares me the most.
The ones where I can't sleep but I'm drenched in sweat and physically exhausted as if I had been fighting. How my throat is raw and dry as if I had been screaming my lungs out to the point of them giving up. My hands feel clammy, sore, and stiff from being clenched around the blankets or your wrist so tightly I'm surprised you didn't wake up.
That sensation I was used to by now given all the night terrors I have been having as of late if I do actually sleep. Images of you dying, walking out on me, or other people I love doing the same. But it's mainly you, seeing as you're the one person in my life that I couldn't stand to lose, now more than ever before.
What is a new feeling for me that Iâm not used to yet is my head throbbed with a new found purpose, reminding me of the dread and future anguish. Reminding meâŚ
I am going to die.
I still haven't found a way to tell you. That manila folder laying hidden away under the desk in the corner of our two bedroom house. A folder that held paperwork filled with doctor gibberish and medical terms that would give a healthy person a headache. But there were very specific words in those documents that I know will stick out to you as bright as a ray of light that was peaking out of the clouds during a rainstorm.
Brain tumor, inoperable, too developed, reached near the center of the brain, too dangerous to risk surgery.
Those would stick out to you because it translated to one final word. A word I know you wouldn't admit because I meant that you would lose me.
Death.
My birth mother had a brain tumor, you know. At the age of 24 and I was only 6. They caught it early enough and said she was lucky. Normally these kinds of tumors develop in teenagers and by the time it's caught, it's too late to operate.
But I guess I'm one of those unlucky cases. Only 21 years old but this tumor has been growing since I was 16, or at least doctors think that's how long it's been. My family never had the money to get me looked at but your miracle insurance allowed me to talk to a doctor and tell me I was going to die because we waited too long.
So it's these nights that scare me.
Laying here, your arm wrapped tightly around my growing waist-
I used to be so skinny and fit, but ever since this tumor had begun to grow, I suddenly gained 30 to 40 pounds in just a couple months. Ridiculous isn't it?
I can still feel your heartbeat faintly through your rough fingertips, developed from years of hard work, where they lay over my heart. Each little thump in them reminding me you were alive right behind me and sound asleep, but also that our heartbeats were in sync the way they say soulmatesâ are.
Instead of twitching and whimpering like you used to from the nightmares that would plague you before you met me, they were still and calm like those terrors never existed. You always did say how I was able to make it all go away which a simple smile or from you holding me as you slept. More times than not I would hear you whisper that I was your saving grace for your dreams before we, you, would fall asleep. I couldn't tell you how many times I've thought the same thing about you. That you were my saving grace and made my entire life worth fighting for and living for.
The warmth that came from your kitten claw hands made me think of a thick fuzzy blanket, nestling me into comfort during a cold winter night. During the summer I would playfully complain because we woke up a sweaty mess; but now I try to cherish each moment because I don't know how long until I will never feel it again.
Your breath fans against the back of my neck and shoulder blades, fooling me due to the contrast of your body heat. It never fails to make goosebumps flutter against my skin. Ticklish and rough since it always mixed with your snoring. Like a freight train because of how much it shook the bed but again. Just another painful and bliss filled piece of you that I love and will miss.
I can feel the patch of coarse hair that laid between your pecs as it tickled my own back. You didn't have hair that would spread across your entire chest and stomach like most men had, but that bundle of curls were uniquely you and I always love running my fingers through it any chance I get. Be it when we cuddle, shower, kiss, make love- if it's visible, I play with it. And while you don't verbally admit it, I know you like it based on the way your eyes would flutter closed and you'd tilt your head back, a soft groan leaving your lips at the sensation.
Hairy legs are tangled with my own, your looming height over my own small frame being shown since my toes barely reached your mid-calf.
But your legs aren't nearly as thick with hair as your stomach. That happy trail you have make so many women; and possibly men, swoon with desire. Just a patch of thick, rough, curly hair that disappeared deep into whatever you were wearing. I am the only one that knows what lies at the end of It, but it was always amusing to see the curious and hopeful gazes of others as they imagined what was between those strong thighs of yours.
But I'm getting off track and a tiny little mumble in your sleep of my name is what makes me remember my original thoughts.
Speaking of talking in your sleep.
You used to mumble in your sleep. Begging me to not leave you. How happy you are. How much you love me. That you couldn't wait to have a life with me. A family. And I always thought the same thing and more. I would imagine our children running around this old house, laughing and smiling as they played with their father. A man I adore and cherish more than anything in this world. Even my own life.
But I am going to ruin all of that, aren't I?
I hate these nights.
The nights I stare at your face in the dark when my back isn't to you, memorizing every inch of you I can before the tumor will begin to take away my memories more than it already does.
I want to remember the way your nose is slightly turned upward; but with how you sometimes bury your face in your pillow I can't help but giggle because you look like a little pig. Or how your moles littered your left cheek in a perfect pattern that reminds me of Orionâs Belt, my favorite constellation.
You always teased me for noticing that.
I even memorize those faint scars of yours. The one from your accident. You hate them but it's another thing. Another little thing that reminds me you're alive and okay...unlike me.
They barely show. Hidden away by the rough patches of dark hair that was growing on your jawline. No one can really see the light lines along your right jawbone due to the scruff. Same way no one can see that little mark right by your right temple because of your hair hiding it a lot. But a lot of people do see that scar on your nostril. The one that is probably the most known one.
But again. I love each one.
It's these nights I hate because as I lay here. Heart pounding, head throbbing, skin sweaty and mind racing. All I think about is the pain I'm going to bring to you when you do find out.
I know you so well.
You're going to drag me to doctor after doctor. Pleading to any and all gods and goddesses and religions to find some way. Something. Anything. To save me. So you don't lose me and lose the one person who you love so much you say they put the very air in your lungs. You're going to scream and fight every single inch whenever you hear that I can't be saved. I can't have surgery. It'll just kill me faster.
You're going to stare at that folder every night, pushing off everything else in your life in an attempt to see if somehow the words will magically change on the page and I won't...die.
You'll begin to lose sleep, doing what I'm doing now. Memorizing me. So when I'm gone, you'll never have to sit in the dark and wonder.
What color were my eyes? - they weren't a honey-whiskey that could melt even the coldest of hearts, I can tell you that.
Did I have any scars the way you did? - I always said I would take yours for you if it made you happy, no matter how much I love them.
My hair color? What was it again? - Nothing compares to that deep, dark chocolate that lays on your head, more often than not being styled in some fashion.
It's tiny questions like that you'll be trying to avoid in the years to come once I'm gone as you watch me, watching you. Both of us hating what is happening.
You'll whispered how much you love me every second, more than you already do; but know that I've been doing this every night since the tests results came back. I'll find you crying, angry at the world. Asking what did I do to deserve this. Don't worry, I've asked it myself so much I have begun to wonder if my voice is getting annoying to anything or anyone that might be listening. You'll even go as far as to bargain at times, that my life was too precious so they should take you instead. If only you know how much I'll want to smack you for hearing you say that.
There are so many things that will happen the moment you get your hands on that little folder that will turn your entire world upside down as if it was never important to begin with.
So, I'll do everything I can to protect you from that for as long as possible. Even as this tumor eats away at my very life, every second of our existence. I'll do anything to protect you until I finally die. That way you have nothing but happy memories to cherish rather than memories filled with âWhat ifâs or âI could have doneâs.
I only want to see you smiling until the last breath leaves my lips.
The reason why just echoes in my heart, mind, body and soul as I watch you groan in your sleep and began to open your eyes. Those little cute lips turning into a soft smile. I can feel your arm tighten around me and you press a soft kiss to my skin, lazily asking me why I'm still awake, unaware of the fear that eats at my conscience. Only for you to hum and whisper you love me and I need to sleep before those snores begin to fill the room once more.
âI love you too.â
That's why I refuse to tell you and I'm going to protect you until I die.
Because I love you is why Iâm terrified and hate nights like this.
#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien x reader#dylan o'brien x reader insert#dylan o'brien fanfic#dylan o'brien fanfiction#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinski x reader#stiles stilinski x reader insert#stiles stilinski fanfic#stiles stilinski fanfiction#mitch rapp#mitch rapp x reader#mitch rapp x reader insert#mitch rapp fanfic#mitch rapp fanfiction#dave hodgman#dave hodgman x reader#dave hodgman x reader insert#dave hodgman fanfic#dave hodgman fanfiction#stuart twombly#stuart twombly x reader#stuart twombly x reader insert#stuart twombly fanfic#stuart twombly fanfiction#thomas maze runner#thomas x reader#thomas x reader insert#thomas maze runner fanfic#thomas maze runner fanfiction
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Do you still take Smut night requests? â¤ď¸ I would like to Request a smut with Mitch Rapp, were he comes home from a mission pretty frustrated and takes it out on the Reader. (so like rough sex if possible cause I know I'm not the only dirty one here 0_0) Your Blog is amazing!
also:
pairing: mitch rapp x fem!reader
warnings: smut â dom!mitch + sub!reader, use of sex toys (handcuffs, vibrator)
word count: 952
â˘:â˘.â˘:â˘.â˘:â˘:â˘:â˘:â˘:â˘:â˘:⢠➠⟠⽠â˘:â˘.â˘:â˘.â˘:â˘:â˘:â˘:â˘:â˘:â˘:â˘
requests are now closed
smut night masterlist
From the second mitch came home from a mission, you knew he was frustrated. He was pissed off even. He locked himself in his office, taking phone calls from his boss to figure out what to do next. From what you gathered, the bad guy got away, leaving Mitch with no choice but to return home to see if they can still track the guy's movements.
Every 20 minutes or so, you'd knock on the door and ask if he needed anything.
"for the last time, [y/n], I don't need anything," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"are you sure you're alright? Maybe you should take a break," you suggest, biting your lip nervously.
"No, can't you see I'm a little frustrated? So unless you can find this guy instead of coming in here every 5 minutes, that'll be great."
"mitch, please take a break. You just got home," you argue back, not taking his attitude.
"No, you know what, I have a better idea. How about you come here, and you're gonna make it up to me because I'm in a mood and I need this. I'm gonna put you back in your place where you need to be." Mitch's voice is so low, both from frustration and lust. "So come here, baby."
You shake your head, folding your arms over your chest.
"Baby girl, give me your hand. If you don't, I'll use your hair."
Still, you refuse. At this point, you almost want to see how long it'll take for him to be entirely fed up with you.
"Fine. Is this the way it's gonna be, baby?" He growls, grabbing you by your wrist and dragging you to the bedroom.
"You're such a fucking brat," Mitch spits, tightening his grip.
"Strip." He instructs, his pupils growing larger from how dominating he is over you.
Once again, you don't listen to him. Instead, you stand with your arms folded over your chest again. Mitch rolls his eyes, storming over to you and rips your shirt off. Your jaw falls open in shock, completely not expecting him to do that. He pushes you down on the bed, using his muscly and strong body to pin you down.
"There's only two words I want to hear: 'yes daddy' or our safe word."
"Or what?" You challenge, arching an eyebrow.
"Fine. If that's the way you're gonna behave," Mitch rolls his eyes, roughly getting off you to go into the nightstand. He takes out a pair of cuffs.
"Give me your hands," Mitch demands. You keep your hands still by your side, a gasp leaving your lips as he yanks them towards him before cuffing them to the bed. He reaches into the nightstand again and grabs out another pair of cuffs that were designed to restrain your legs. You silently gulp, watching with desired eyes as strips your pants and panties off before strapping your legs into the cuffs.
"God, no wonder you were so whiney when I got home. Your pussy is dripping," he groans, running a finger up your folds.
"I know exactly what I'm gonna do to you."
your eyes watch him hungrily as he picks up the vibrator wand. Mitch slides a finger into your pussy, a smirk forming on your face as you clench around it.
"Wipe that smirk off your face." He demands and inserts another finger before wriggling them in a 'come hither' motion. His fingers are pressing into your g-spot, his eyes focused so hard on you as he holds the wand so close to your clit, but making sure it wasn't touching you.
"You're such a desperate little slut, aren't you?"
You nod and whine, biting your lip to prevent any moans from escaping. Mitch presses the vibrator on your clit, almost immediately causes you to let out a loud cry.
"Well, that's too bad. Daddy has to teach you a lesson." You whine in response, feeling yourself become closer and closer to the brink of orgasm.
"Oh, what is it? What is it baby girl?" He mocks your pines. "Aw, are you gonna cum?"
âyes daddy,â you moan.
"Aw, well, you can't come without daddy's permission, now can you?" He chuckles darkly, thrusting his fingers faster into you. You moan loudly, writhing on the bed in an attempt to move away from him. But with the restraints locking you into place, it was no use. Your orgasm is building and building, your walls clenching so hard around him; he chuckles at you again.
"Aw, you wanna cum for daddy?"
You nod and moan a high-pitched "yes, daddy!"
"Aw, do you? Okay, baby girl, you can. Daddy will let you come in 5, 4, that's it, princess." he chuckles. "3, 2, 1." Mitch retracts his hand.
"Aw, what? You can cum, baby."
"I can't," you cry.
"You can't? Well, Daddy gave you permission. Aw, you poor little baby." He fakes sympathy as he shoves his fingers into you again. This time, he thrusts them harder and faster, your moans becoming louder and louder while your body is getting harder to control. His other hand turns the vibrations up; a yelp escapes your lips.
"Look at you just fighting those restraints. You're not going anywhere, you desperate little slut."
" Daddy, I need to come."
"alright. Cum."
Mitch almost immediately retracts his hand again, along with the vibrator. Your pussy throbs as you cum; a dissatisfied whine leaves your lips as you writhe in place. He leans down, lapping his tongue over your juices while wrapping his arms around your hips to hold you in place.
"Now, baby, I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll be screaming."
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Shoot
Summary: Mitch Rapp/Reader, theyâre training together and go on a mission, they have a close call and save each other.
It hadnât taken you long during training to develop a rivalry with Mitch Rapp, you knew it was dangerous, not because he was actual competition but because working with him. Especially after the rest of the team caught on to the rivalry you two had, which led to both of you being partnered together. All of that had accumulated into your rivalry becoming a one sides crush on your end. What had been glares of annoyance and aggravation when Mitch beat your time at the shooting range or a sprint time had morphed into watching his back muscles flex and tense as he practiced shooting.
Theyâve partnered Mitch and you together for hand to hand combat, and you donât mind having to get close to him, you donât mind trying to dodge his kicks and trying to smack him back. He ends up pinning you at least four times.Â
Youâre torn between snapping and growling at him when he pins you face inches from yours and smirk grows.
âWill you get the fuck off of me.â You hiss and Mitch just presses his arm over your stomach, one of his legs parallel to your thigh.
âNot really feeling it.â He laughs a little as you try to roll from under him, all it does is let his thigh fall between your legs and he smirks.
âGet off.â You snap and he leans closer grin growing.
âNot until you do.â You face flushes and his grin changes back into a smirk.
âIâve seen how you stare at me, how your comments have lost their edge, you donât hate me, you like me.â
âDo you feel the same?â You decide to just get his rejection over with, instead his hand trails up your thigh and his lips brush against your ear.
âWould I be doing this after hours with you if I didnât?â
âY/N! You and Mitch are together.â
âUh, yeah?â You nod to the mission file theyâd given you, youâre not exactly thrilled to have to work with him on your first official mission, but youâre getting sick of just training so you reason anything will be better than more training sessions. You and Mitch hadn't bothered with calling what you were a relationship, you knew how his last one ended and you werenât keen to make him worry in that way.
Youâre shifting down the hallway, trying your best to keep quiet as Mitch follows keeping an eye on you. âY/N you need to be..â Mitch doesnât finish, you jump back against the wall as a bullet whizzes past.
âI thought there wasnât supposed be anyone with big weapons in here!â
âA gun isnât big!â Mitch shouts back and you duck as someone jumps down from the rafters.
âItâs a rifle!â
âHow can you tell you canât even see the guy!â Mitch shouts back and you jog over to where he is, keeping pressure on your side.
âYou got shot.â He hisses and you nod, you can already feel the shock setting in.
âWell if you didn't let that guy with the rifle get that close..â Mitch glares at you, fingers trying to pull the fabric from around the wound on your side
âSays the one who let themselves get knifed.â
âI only did that because youâd gotten shot!â
âIt just grazed me, see Iâm fine.â He points to the almost carpet burn like mark on his shoulder, you glare and then hiss in pain when he dumps an entire bottle of antiseptic over the gash.
âThatâs too much!â
âWe donât know where that knife has been!â You canât help but laugh at Mitchâs concern and before you can rebuttal his comment he leans over and kisses you.
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#mitch rapp#mitch rapp imagine#mitch rapp x reader#mitch rapp x y/n#mitch rapp x you#american assassin#american assassin reader insert#american assassin imagine#mitch rapp reader insert#stattic
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I wake up and check your account everyday looking for an update of far from L.A lmao. I hate telling writers that because I never want to feel like Iâm pressuring them but I just want you to know that Iâm excited for it! Itâs hands down the best Dylan fanfic Iâve ever read. (Also on that note, if you know any other good ones let me know) <3
OOOOOOHHHHHHH my GAH!
I'm so freakin' happy to know that you're enjoying the fic! I'm also sorry that I know it's been taking me a while to update. I didn't intend on things becoming what they are when I started and I was on vacation when I was working on the early chapters. Now I'm back to work and BUSSSSYYYY, so it is a little harder to find the time. I'm also invested in making sure I don't eff up their journey now that there seem to be some invested readers.
The best Dylan fanfic you've ever read... is WILD. I'm honoured you would think so. Honestly. That's awesome and kind of unbelievable?
I promise, I'm going to try to find some time soon to give Mia and Dylan the rest of their story <3
As far as recs go, I'm TERRIBLE. When I was ravenously reading everything I could find early on, I wasn't using this blog and have lost most of the ones I liked. Though, there seemed to be a significant lack of fics that weren't reader insert (I liked some of those, but I often prefer there to be a third-person sort of style?). It's hard to explain.
I did read one that I think would be pretty easy to find. It's LONG and the author seemed to use it as a vehicle to almost shame him about smoking, which I thought was a funny premise. It's called Summer Fling by @were-cheetah-stiles.
If you like reader insert or x reader fics, @dobrienwrites comes up with some pretty cute things that are TOTALLY worth checking out. I just read a Mitch Rapp x Reader cute lil diddy this morning, actually.
One of the first things I found that I read MANY times was on AO3 about him being super cute and supportive to a friend during a hard break up and they end up getting down. It's GOOD and sweet. Dylan seemed really in character. I liked it. It's called "Drunk on You". I don't know the author because the fic has been abandoned. VERY sad.
Of course, there are more that I've liked, but I wouldn't even know the name of them at this point... APOLOGIESSS <3
- Trashy xoxo
Anon is graciously complimenting 'Far Away From L.A.'
#THANK YOUUUU#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan obrien imagine#FAFLA fic#FAFLA ask#ask#anon#anon ask#lovely anon is lovely#you are so kind#and I don't mind getting a little proding sometimes#I kind of need it right now#I was just saying to mischief that I need to get my ass in gear
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