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stilessssss · 3 years

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Elevate Your Hopes Up

word count: 4599

characters: Mitch Rapp x Claustrophobic!Reader, Stan Hurley

summary: The first day of work isn’t going as planned as you get trapped inside an elevator with your co-worker, Mitch.

notes: This is for mitchtober, hosted by @writingsbychlo and I am surprised that I actually managed to finish this story in time, since I procrastinate everything. It’s the first story I’ve ever posted so I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this!

thank you @softstilinskii for helping me, you are amazing and so talented. I appreciate you so much <3

warnings: Just fluff, some angst, talk about elevators/small spaces

“Hold it! Please hold it!” You yelled at the man who was in the elevator, about to go up and he looked annoyed as if he was debating in himself whether or not to hold the door for you. It was after he saw your panicked movements when he placed his hand between the two doors which were about 3 inches away, making them stop before opening again.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, you quickly ran inside, trying to balance the two coffee cups in your hands without spilling anything. And as you pressed the number of your destination about ten times, the man next to you quirked an eyebrow.

“Stupid thing.” You mumbled and the man coughed, making you look at him. “I already pressed that button.”

Your eyes went wide, mostly in embarrassment and you looked away quickly. Not wanting to look him in the eye. Way to start off the day by making yourself look like a nutjob in front of a co-worker. Maybe you should've just taken the stairs. Although your body would highly disagree because of your poor stamina. Maybe you should take use of your gym membership like you always said you would.

“You new here?” He asked and you nodded as the doors closed. Your eyes were focussing on the numbers of the elevator floors. “That obvious huh?” You tried to make a joke out of it and laughed nervously, but it quickly faded when you read his unamused expression. His eyes were an amber color, standing neutral yet stern and his hair was in a messy cut as it fitted his scruff beard. His face basically described someone saying 'really?' annoyed with their eyebrows scrunched, and you looked away at the elevator doors as the stranger did the same.

You sighed while mumbling in your breath and the stranger scratched the back of his neck, before silence took over. Just 3 minutes in an elevator with a handsome man with uncomfortable tension in the air, and you’ll be up, no problem.

As you heard the pings of the floors that passed, you noticed the man eyeing you from the side. Something that made your nerves go up since you thought he was judging you by the second. It’s always been bothering you, that everytime people would look at you, you’d assume they’d think the worst of you. Luckily, the man seemed to notice, and he turned his head to the elevator doors again, scraping his throat.

“Sorry if I seemed rude.”

You looked at your side, your eyes meeting his shoulder so you looked up, noticing the height difference. “Oh, you weren't rude, I’m clumsy. Guess I’m just kinda paranoid since it’s the first day. I’m not late, I just want to make a good impression. And as you can see I don’t handle elevators well. God, I don’t even know why I’m in here, I could've just taken the stairs but I didn’t want to meet my superiors while being all sweaty. Although I already feel like I’m soaked right now. Jeez, it’s hot in here.” Your hands were starting to get sweaty when you rambled to the stranger, and he still had his eyebrows raised a little. Inside you could mentally slap yourself. Of course that would be his reaction. If a random girl would suddenly ramble shit, you’d be like ‘what the fuck is going on’, no surprise that his reaction would be the same.

“It’s totally fine, don’t worry too much about it, alright? We’re almost up.” He caught you off guard as he gave you a genuine smile. Something that made you feel relieved that he answered calmly and this time you were the one scrunching your eyebrows up in confusion. Most times you weren’t this hyper, yet people still gave you looks that asked you to kindly fuck off. So this was new.

“So you need to be on the 9nth floor as well?” The stranger asked and you nodded slowly. “Yeah, I have a meeting with my superiors and other co-workers, you?”

“Same, so your superior must be Stan Hurley too, right?” You nodded and looked at the cups in your hands. “Yeah I brought him coffee, I hope it gives off a good impression.”

The man next to you looked at the cups as well, and you didn't realize he was really close to you. “You’re playing a dangerous game, what coffee did you get for him?”

“I got myself latte espresso with steamed milk, and I got Stan a Red Eye.”

The man beside you seemed to be impressed, making you feel relieved that you made the right order. “That’s his usual, how did you know that?”

“His biography was on google,” You shrugged and he had an amused look on his face. “Wow... That’s actually smart.”

“Yeah, I felt like a stalker though. Anyway, everything to make a good impression.”

“Can’t disagree with that.”

Both of you laughed and It actually felt nice to have a conversation with a stranger like him. Even though you kept thinking they would judge you, it could just be a friendly ear who might just become a friend.

Maybe this first day isn’t gonna be as bad as you thought after all.

That’s until you heard a rattling sound and you felt the elevator slow down.

It was like the elevator jolted up before shutting down completely, and both of you snapped your heads up to the noise. The lights were still on, everything seemed normal but the one thing that made you know something was up, was that you couldn’t hear the sounds of the shaft moving.

“What just happened?” You blinked and looked around. “I dunno?” The man took three steps forward, until he reached the buttons and inspected them as his face went close. “I think the elevator stopped?”

The words he spoke were enough for you to make a red light pop up in your brain, and you chuckled anxiously. “You’re kidding, right?”

He pressed the button to the 9th floor, but nothing happened. The only sound you could hear were scraping sounds, as if the elevator wanted to go up, but stuttered. The stranger turned around, his face in a confused look, and your heart felt like it stopped as your breathing hitched.

“No, no no no. Oh my god.” You mumbled as he tried it again for the third time, yet no luck. And the red light formed into panic in your head. “Try something, try pressing the open door button instead of the floor button?” He did what you suggested, again no reaction and you felt like you were getting dizzy, like anxiety knocked on your door.

“Why won’t it open? Are we stuck? Oh god.”

You started to feel light in your head, and dizziness started to form.

“Woah woah, easy easy alright. It’s probably just some malfunction, I’m sure the problem will be fixed soon.” The man was suddenly in front of you, holding your upper arms to keep you steady and your eyes darted around as you felt your chest tighten. “I am claustrophobic, I don’t even know why I took the elevator. Oh my god I’m gonna faint.”

“No, don't faint. If you’re gonna faint I’ll just have to faint as well, and that’s not gonna be fun for anyone. Just look at me alright? Focus on me. Look me in my eyes.”

As the words rolled out of his mouth, your eyes moved to his, and you noticed there was a sweet and understanding look on his face. The lighting of the elevator also made his face brighter, his amber eyes now looking more like a honey color, making your breathing slow down a little bit. Yet, the tightness in your chest didn’t fade.

You didn’t even feel the stranger take over the coffee cups and place them on the ground.

“Everything is gonna be okay, alright? I'll see if there is some way to connect ourselves to the maintenance downstairs, who can help us.” His eyes moved along the lines of the numerous buttons, and eventually settled on the yellow bell. The alarm button.

He gave you one more look of reassurance before turning around to the yellow button. He pressed it, both of you waiting in anticipation, and you started to feel as if the elevator doors were closing in on you, as if you were huddled in a tight little space.

“Just look at the floor, not the walls… Just look at the floor, not the walls...” you mumbled to yourself as you looked at your feet. Everything looked like it was a little blurry as black spots appeared in your vision, and a ringing sound suddenly reached your ears. Shivers ran down your spine and you kept mumbling the same sentence over and over again on a loop.

You probably looked like a lost kid now, and in truth, You were. Well, you felt like one.

“Alright, it gave a signal to the people in the building. These people know what to do, they’re trained to know what to do if an elevator gets stuck. We’ll be out in no time, and even if it’s worse than we thought, they’ll contact an elevator service technician to get us out.” The voice was dragged out. You couldn’t even hear the last words he spoke as the sounds around you were replaced with a high pitched sound. Black spots that were present just now, were starting to get bigger, and the pressure in your head felt larger. It felt like you were faltering.

Your hands reached out to try and grasp something as everything went fully black, but it was too late as you fell on the floor, your side burning as you went.

“Holy shit!”

The last thing you remember is laying on the ground, wanting to open your eyes, yet everything stayed black.

“Look at me, you’re okay.”

“Hey, you’re okay.” You heard a voice say and your sight slowly reappeared as his face came into sight. “You scared the shit out of me.”

You heard him chuckle a little, and as your sight was vividly clear again, you could see a look of worry on his face. “What happened?”

You coughed, your headache fading and you looked around to see you were still in the elevator, unfortunately. You hoped you were able to redo this day and choose to go with the stairs. Even though you wouldn't have had a conversation with the strange man if you’d taken the stairs, you wouldn’t have been in an elevator that was stuck.

“Elevators suck.” You mumbled and the man laughed at your retort. “Yes, they do.”

You then noticed he was crouching in front of you, and you thought he must’ve guided you to sit down slowly against the wall of the elevator, after you fainted.

“That fall was pretty nasty. Are you hurt?” He checked your face quickly for any bruises or scratches from the walls, and you then felt a sting in your side. Like it was burning.

“Only my side, I think I fell against the railing at the button section.” You lifted your shirt up a little, and as you shifted your hips, you saw a purple-ish bruise. You groaned, remembering that you would go to the beach with a friend of yours on the weekend, knowing the bruise would be noticeable.

He looked at your side before sitting down next to you and he inspected the bruise as your breath hitched.

“It’s not that bad luckily, although I’m afraid you will have to carry that for a couple of days"

The stranger smiled lightly and that’s when you realized you hadn’t even introduced yourself. It’s nice to know someone on the first day of work, but it’s better if you know a name to pronounce them.

“By the way, you never told me your name” You questioned in yourself but apparently you talked out loud. Probably because of the aftershock of fainting, you were still trembling.

The man held out a hand for you to shake and you happily obliged. “I’m Mitch.”

You looked at him again, seeing a different view of him after he said his name, and you smiled. Mitch suited him.

“Y/n.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl." He winked and had a grin plastered on his face. "Get out of here with the cheesiness." You playfully said to him, slightly swatting his knee and you felt heat radiate from your cheeks. Looking down again to try and cover them up with your hair, although he undoubtedly already noticed.

The two of you sat there in silence. A sigh escaped your lips as your eyes wandered to his form. Since there was a meeting, He wore an all black suit, something that wasn’t really casual, it was rather fancy. And it was then you noticed it looked good. He looked good. Like, really good. His side profile was in your view as you looked at him, and you didn’t even realize you were starting to zone out, until Mitch started speaking and snapped you out of your trance.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you actually faint?” You thought about the day everything started. It required some digging in your memories you had buried, but thinking about it now, it all came flooding back.

“That’s a long story.”

You didn’t know if he wanted to hear it, since you were afraid you’d ramble the whole bible to him. Anytime when people would show interest in the subject, you’d explain it to them, but then they would wander off or pretend they cared. You could easily see it in their faces.

But he had a slight smirk on his face and chuckled.

“Well, we have all the time. I’m listening, I promise.” He folded his hands on his crossed legs, and kept looking you in your eyes. Making you look down, before you opened up to him.

“When I was 8, I was playing hide and seek with other girls from my class. It was hosted by a classmate from school at his house, and the whole class came. And so we decided to play hide and seek inside the house. I decided to hide inside the closet. But when I sat there for minutes, no one came. I was pumped because I wanted to win, but after half an hour, no one came. I waited and waited for three hours. So eventually I shouted for help, tried to pry my way out of the closet but it wouldn't budge. No one heard my cries, because it turned out they went outside. I felt like I was trapped, like there was tightness in my chest, I couldn't breathe. And as I kept crying, after 3 hours and 20 minutes, an adult heard me and freed me.”

He didn’t have to be Einstein to know why you couldn’t get out of the closet, and Mitch felt bad as he saw your expression sadden as you told your story. All the memories came crashing down on you again, and it felt like you were in the exact same place and moment like you were when you were a little kid. You thought you were ready to open up to people, yet everytime you would talk about it, it felt like you were trapped again, your voice cracking. Maybe you overestimated yourself, maybe talking about it was still relatively hard to process.

As you looked slowly at your side, Mitch was in the same position as he was before, only his gaze that lingered on you was a little more sad. Like he had empathy and you immediately coughed. “Sorry, that was depressing, it happened 16 years ago, I feel stupid for still being hung up about it. Sorry-” before you could finish your sentence, Mitch interrupted you and shuffled a little closer.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty for telling your story, and you shouldn’t feel sorry for feeling sorry for yourself. As a kid it’s traumatizing to go through something like that. Of course that would stick with you.” His words were well thought out, like there was a tone of understanding, yet something was still gnawing at you.

“I just feel ashamed. There are people who have gone through way more shit than I did, and I still act like the world is ending.”

"Just because someone else may have it worse, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to feel sad sometimes. Everyone has fears, it’s inevitable. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

He leaned in, and for a second it looked like he was trying to reach for your hand, but he hesitated at the last second. He subtly pulled his hands away, placing them back on his knees and you decided not to pay too much attention to it. “Have you got any?”

“Yeah, mine is terrifying,” he let out a laugh, putting emphasis on ‘terrifying’ while wiggling his eyebrows and biting his lip.

“And what may that be?”

He didn’t answer, instead he just looked in front of him, as if he was thinking really hard.

“Well?”

“Well, I’m afraid of…" He lingered on his last words before squinting his eyes. “...spiders?”

His words were dragged out and you snorted. “That sounded really convincing,”

Mitch’s posture changed as if he was caught in the act, and he sighed with a tiny bit of guilt in his face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry, thanks for trying to reassure me, it’s been a while since someone did that for me.”

The thought of him trying to cheer you up a bit, was a small gesture, yet it felt like opening a christmas gift. Even though he hardly knew you, he cared. And it seemed as if that thought hit something within you, making a tear slip and roll over your cheek.

As much as you tried to hold it in, hold it together, more tears followed and you bit your lip, inhaling deeply to try and contain yourself.

Why was it so damn hard to just keep it together?

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just, I feel like I haven't cried in weeks and all my bottled up emotions are spilling out right now. I'm starting a new job in a new town, so I haven’t really had anyone to talk to or hold either or whatever, so- what are you doin-” Before you knew it, warmth surrounded your body as Mitch’s arms were around you, and you could smell his cologne as your eyes went wide. “Oh- oh okay...this is-”

“-Shh, shut up.”

“Okay...”

Your surprised look faltered as your eyes closed, and your arms wove around his body to hug him back, your chin resting on his shoulder. This was exactly what you needed, to hold someone close and to just vent out whatever you buried deep inside of you.

“Hey Mitch?”

"Yeah?"

“Thank you,” You whispered and smiled through your tears. “For listening.” His hands were on the back of your head, playing with your hair as you heard his voice vibrate throughout your whole body.

"Of course." He held you close for a little longer before he decided to break the contact. “You’re sweaty, ew.” His playful tone made you snort, and when both of you pulled back, he wiped away some stray tears that were still sitting on your cheeks.

The two of you sat there in silence. Just savoring this moment.

You then noticed something in the corner of the elevator, and as your eyes diverted to it, you saw the two coffee cups sitting neatly on the floor. You were glad that Mitch had put them on the ground just before you fell, because if he didn't, it would've spilled everywhere and ruined your outfit. Facing your superior with a big stain in your blazer, would totally not give the right impression, and having to go to the ER for burn wounds, wasn’t really a fun trip either.

You reached out for the cups and grabbed yours, surprised that it was still warm, and you took a few sips of your latte when you crawled back to the spot next to Mitch. He watched as you took a few sips, and you then looked at the other cup in front of you, and asked if Mitch wanted the Red Eye. "Uh, well, yeah it would be nice, I guess, but what about Sta-" "-It's fine, really. I mean, it's getting cold and I don't think giving a cold coffee to your superior is a way to make a good impression." You gave a little smile, grabbed the cup out of the cardboard cup holder and handed it over to him.

"Thanks." He grabbed the cup from your hand and immediately took a big swing. Something he regretted after, since his face scrunched up and he coughed a little after he swallowed his mouthful of coffee. "Oh, wow. That's- that's really strong. Now I get why his blood pressure is always sky high."

You cracked out the loudest laugh yet this day, and looked around once again in the small room. “I hope for you there aren’t any cameras in this elevator to record that, otherwise you’d be the one playing a dangerous game.” He chuckled at the sentence you used against him, and laughter once again filled the air around you. That’s until everything went silent, and you knew he was gonna say something more serious.

“I don’t understand why those girls did what they did when you were 8, you’re a really kind person.”

Both of you took another sip of your coffee. Some foam of your latte on your upper lip and you rubbed it away with your tongue.

“Yeah well, they never really liked me. No one really did. After all, I was just an energetic hyper ball that would ramble everywhere I went. It’s not as bad as it was before, but sometimes I just freak out and then I’m 8 again. Just scared shitless, I guess this is just my way of coping when I’m nervous.”

“I like that about you.” His eyes went to yours to make eye contact, and you happily looked back.

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

Well that’s a first.

He had a cheeky grin and licked his lips.

“You’re not like other girls.”

“Okay shut up, you ruined the moment.” Even though he had a playful sound in his voice, you gave him a light push to his shoulder and you both laughed. That’s until the cheeky grin changed into a knowing smirk.

“Moment huh?” The little shit was enjoying this. He was enjoying seeing you flustered and you swallowed hard, looking everywhere except his eyes.

“Yeah,” Heat spread across your cheeks again. “There is something.”

Biting his lip, he scratched his jaw and looked at your form, grinning widely after he noticed something and you frowned.

“You stopped trembling.”

You looked down, indeed seeing that you weren’t trembling and your face that held confusion, didn’t change one bit as you looked around. The fear of the small space didn’t even reach to you the past couple of minutes, and you then faced Mitch again, gaping at him like a fish.

“How did you manage to do that?” He simply shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee.

“What can I say? It’s my charm, the ladies love it.”

He shot you another wink, and you felt something in the pit of your stomach. Not a feeling that wanted you to throw up, but the feeling in your stomach you haven’t felt in years. A nice one. It was like your stomach was doing twists and rolls, in a good way.

He seemed to notice your state after the wink, and the little shit almost had a grin like the cheshire cat. Having to contain yourself not to smile as well, you rolled your eyes and snorted.

“Well, I’m not like the other ladies”

“Shut up.”

Right after both of you cracked a laugh again, you felt another jolt of the elevator, before you could hear the shaft and your eyes shot up. It indicated that the maintenance manager managed to fix the problem, “Mitch, I think the elevator moved again.” You told your companion but all you heard was him groaning.

“Mitch-” You looked at your side and your mouth went wide as you saw a small stain on his pants. Turns out he held his coffee in his hands as the elevator jolted, and a few hot droplets landed on his pants.

“Shit, are you okay?” You held in a laugh and he nodded as he burst out laughing too.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a small stain.”

“Shit, uhh.” you felt the need to help him, but you knew a coffee stain was most likely permanent. “I can make it up to you. Let me make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me?” He had an amused look on his face, and the both of you stood up from your seating position. He looked at the stain on his thigh, and he then looked back at you.

“Yeah, I know a stain like that probably won’t come out, I can pay you back, or-”

“-I know a way for you to make it up to me” Your eyes that diverted when you were thinking about ways to fix it, now shot back up to look at Mitch, and it felt like your eyes were glued to his face. “What did you have in mind?”

He rubbed his hands together, smiling.

“We should go out sometime.”

“We should?"

“Yeah,” Now it was your time to smirk, your eyes standing playful as you cocked your head. “You sure you can handle my energetic ass? You know I’ll probably ramble the whole bible to you.”

“Yeah I know,” He grinned, “and I’ll happily listen.”

That’s the moment when you both heard a pinging sound, indicating you were at your destination, and at the same time, both your heads turned around.

“We’re here, floor 9.”

The doors of the elevator opened, the both of you wanting to walk out, but at that moment, you were stopped by a voice.

“Mitch, Y/n, where have you been? The meeting ended already, I- Mitch, you have a stain on your pants.” A man stood on the other side of the elevator, and you recognized him as Stan Hurley, your new superior. His voice was not mad, but you could easily hear the irritation in his voice, and see his unamused face. Before he could say anything more though, Mitch was quick to explain everything to him about the elevator being stuck.

Stan’s irritated face expression slowly turned into an understanding one, and he then looked at you. “Sorry to hear you both were stuck, but happy to know you both can get to work now. Hurry up.” Before both of you could say anything further, he already walked away. But Mitch said something just before.

"By the way, Stan, your taste in coffee is horrible."

Stan, who was now walking down the hall, turned his head around to shoot Mitch a look of confusion before turning back around. And you laughed at Mitch’s retort.

“I thought this day was gonna be hell, but you know, being stuck with you in an elevator isn’t so bad after all.”

#mitchtober #mitch-tober #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp au #dylan obrien x reader #mitch rapp #mitch rapp imagine #american assassin #mitch rapp x y/n #mitch rapp fluff #mitch rapp smut

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mystic-writings · 3 years

Text

lend a hand | mitch rapp

PAIRING — mitch rapp x fem!reader

SUMMARY — mitchtober week day one - trope

PROMPT — you go into a bar and ask a handsome stranger to help you avoid your crazy ex-boyfriend

WARNINGS — crazy exes, bar fights, mentions of blood, etc.

WORD COUNT — 1,958

NOTE — welcome to the first day of mitchtober! the event is being hosted by the lovely @writingsbychlo!

masterlist | navigation

There really was nothing like a crazy ex boyfriend to flip your day on its head.

You’d thought that after months of denying calls and changing locks, phone numbers, and making new social media accounts would’ve gotten Josh off your back, but he had proved you wrong yet again. Your fridge was running dangerously low on food, you had realized that morning, and despite the fact that you had wanted to spend your day off inside and relaxing, you were forced to put on some decent clothing and venture out into the streets of Washington and go to the grocery store.

You didn’t get very far into your errand when you ran into him. As you debated which kind of cereal you wanted to buy for the next two weeks, the tall man spotted you from the end of the aisle, and quickly came over to announce himself.

“Y/n! Hey, how’ve you been?” He asked casually.

Something similar to dread settled into your heart as you looked over at the man, quickly producing a scoff before turning to him. “You ask that as if I haven’t been ignoring your ass for the past 7 months. Leave me alone, Josh, is that so hard to understand?”

“Look, I just think that you made a mistake, okay?” He tried. “I think we were meant for each other, and I think you do, too.”

“No, Josh, we’re not. You made that very clear when you went behind my back and screwed half of my bridal party three weeks before the wedding.” You said. “Now back off before I call the cops.” Fed up, you dropped your basket of items on the floor and left the store, heading down the semi-crowded streets in the hopes that Josh wouldn’t follow after you.

After you’d turned down many different side streets and intersections, you turned around to see if the man was still following you and, to no surprise, he was. He was some 15 feet behind you, trying to act casual and miserably failing. A bout of anxiety bloomed in your chest as you wondered what he was going to say or do once he finally caught up with you, but you decided to at least try harder to ward him off.

As soon as you reached the doors to the pub you spotted, you turned and walked inside. It was a little dark, green stained glass covering the lights, casting a dim glow around the room. With every second that you spared looking around the room for somewhere to hide, Josh was getting a little closer. So, when your eyes locked onto the only person around your age who was at the bar, you darted over to him, taking the seat directly to his right.

“Hi, so, I know you don’t know me, but I need you to do me a favor.”

He looked over, and you couldn’t help but take notice of how attractive the man was. “I don’t do favors.”

“I get that, but my crazy ex is trying to get back with me - has been for a while, actually - but that’s not the point. I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for like, 10 minutes when he walks in here. I’ll buy you drinks afterward, I promise.”

The man seemed to be considering it, but didn’t have time to respond when you heard the door creak open as Josh stepped in. It wasn’t hard for him to spot you, especially because you were the only girl in the bar. You groaned, flagging down a bartender as he made his way toward you.

“Y/n! Why’d you run off on me like that?”

“Josh, look, I-” you attempted to explain, turning in your chair to face him.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” The man beside you asked, furrowing his brow at Josh.

Josh smirked as he replied, “I’m Y/n’s fiancé.”

“That’s impossible, because she’s my girlfriend.” He said. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me, babe.”

The playful smile on his face made your heart stutter as you looked back at him. “Nope. I’ve got nothing to hide.” You smiled. “But you remember what I told you about Josh, right? A few months ago?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he nodded, turning to the man to extend his hand, “I’m Mitch.”

“I don’t care.” Josh spat. “I’d appreciate it if you’d back off of her, though. She’s coming home with me.”

“I don’t think so, man,” Mitch sighed. “See, she isn’t coming home with anyone she doesn’t want to. That’s her choice. And I believe that she’d rather choose her new boyfriend over her ex-fiancé, don’t you?” He turned further, stepping off the stool and coming face-to-face with Josh. “Now, if you can, get your sorry ass out of here so I can enjoy some drinks with my girlfriend, that’d be great.”

You watched the moment unfold in milliseconds. The anger flared in Josh’s eyes, shining like the glint of the sun off a blade. He reared back, pulling his fist up, and slamming it into Mitch’s face. He was stunned, but it didn’t take him long to react, throwing punches of his own. They quickly caught the attention of the other patrons, busting lips, bruising eyes and ribs.

They were shouting at one another, but Josh was quickly disabled when he moved to tackle Mitch, who used the advantage to wrap a leg around the other man’s neck, twisting and pulling him to the ground, forcing the air from his lungs. He tightened the hold on Josh’s neck for a few moments longer before standing and crouching over the man, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and holding him up to say, “If I ever hear that you came anywhere near her again, I won’t leave you alive. Got it?”

As soon as the man produced a weak nod, Mitch let go of his shirt and stood up, huffing from the exertion. Turning to you, he saw the shock on your face and slowly approached.

“Can we go?” You asked shakily, eyes darting between Mitch and the man on the floor. The former nodded, grabbing his coat and following you out into the daylight. He squinted, hissing when he disturbed the bruise that surrounded his left eye. Turning to him, you scrunch your face and said, “You look horrible.”

“Thanks,” Mitch scoffed, trying to hide the smile playing on his lips.

“Can I take you back to mine to at least clean you up?” You offered. “I was supposed to buy you a drink, but I don’t think you’re gonna be allowed back in there for a while.” Mitch laughed, but shook his head. Before he could say anything, you interrupted. “It’s the least I could do. Really.”

With a final sigh, he nodded. “Fine. But you have to tell me the story behind that creep.”

“Deal.” You smiled. The two of you walked back to the store where you had left your car before heading back to your apartment. You talked casually on the way there, about things like where you were born and silly pet peeves that annoyed you to no end.

As soon as you were in the door, you sat the man down at your table, swiftly gathering all of your first-aid materials and setting them on the table next to him.

“So, seriously, what’s the deal with that guy?” Mitch asked as you filled a bowl with warm water.

“Josh was my highschool sweetheart.” You started as you made your way back to the table. Dipping a cloth in the water, you titled Mitch’s head and began to wipe the blood from his skin. “We were together from junior year up until about 7 months ago, so… god, almost 10 years?”

“Jesus,” Mitch breathed. You nodded in agreement, picking up some butterfly stitches.

“I know. We were supposed to get married and everything. He’s always had an easy temper, but you should know that by now.” You smirked, causing Mitch to chuckle. “I didn’t mind it; I thought it was a little charming. He supported me throughout medical school, didn’t mind that I wanted to wait until afterward to get married.” You paused looking through your materials for the gauze and tape to wrap Mitch’s knuckles. “Of course, that was until I found out that he slept with half of my bridal party two weeks before we were supposed to get married.”

“Ouch,” Mitch winced, “that’s gotta hurt. I mean, if that happened to me, I’d probably kill the guy.”

You nodded, taping the first hand as you spoke. “By the looks of it, you almost did,” you began on the other hand, “By the way, how did you do it? You looked like a damned MMA fighter or something.”

“I’m uh,” Mitch paused, keeping his eyes on you, debating on whether he should tell you the truth or keep his profession a secret. You looked up, your eyes meeting his, and he decided. “I work for the CIA. Field agent.”

“That must be tough,” you commented, finishing the wrapping.

“It can be, but I don’t mind it.” He nodded, watching you pack up the rest of the materials. You emptied the bowl of slightly bloody water into the sink before reaching into the freezer, pulling out an ice pack.

“Put this on your eye.” You instructed, and Mitch obeyed. “I can’t do much about the split lip, it’ll heal on its own. Same thing with your ribs. You might want to tell your boss that you can’t go into the field for a few weeks,”

He cursed, knowing Irene was going to kill him when he went into work tomorrow. With the pause in conversation, Mitch got the chance to take in your apartment. It was small, sure, but quaint. Slightly mismatched furniture littering the living room, some boxes placed along the floor. “How long have you been living here?”

“Maybe a month?” You guessed. “That’s something else I forgot to tell you about Josh. After we broke up and I kicked him out, he wouldn’t give up on trying to get me back. I had to block every connection he had to me. I changed my number, made new social media accounts, changed the locks, everything. Eventually, I just decided to move. I’m actually a little surprised it took him this long to find me again.”

“That sounds a little too close to stalking,” Mitch commented. “Maybe you should bring it to the cops. See if they can do anything about it.”

The suggestion threw you for a loop. You’d never thought about it like that. Nodding, you said, “I’ll see what I can do tomorrow. Thanks, Mitch. For everything.”

“I should be thanking you.” He laughed. “I mean, you stitched me up, I got to beat up a shitty guy, and I met a cute girl all in under two hours.”

Your cheeks burned as you laughed with him. “Even after patching you up, I still feel bad. Do you need anything else? Anything at all?”

“Well,” Mitch suggested. “You could go for a coffee with me on Saturday? If- you know, if you want to, that is.”

You smiled, watching him nervously play with his fingers. “I’d love to, Mitch.” You told him. “I’d like to know more about the guy that saved my ass today.”

Mitch smiled, the nervous weight lifting from his chest. “Okay. 11 sound good?”

“Yeah. I’ll meet you at the bar. I think I saw a nice place a few blocks down from it.”

All Mitch could do was smile and nod. If he had known that helping strangers would result in dates with amazing women, he would’ve lended a hand more often.

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

leave at dawn | pirate!mitch rapp

word count; 6189

summary; your lover leaves at dawn, so you make the most of your final night.

notes; honestly this is a little ditty for @classicalism because I know she loves pirate!mitch, and as soon as i had this idea, I knew I had to write it.

warnings; smut, thats about it

The wind was blowing through the wind, a warm breeze, dancing over your skin and making every wet trail left by his lips feel like it was raising in goosebumps. Soft lips dancing along your collarbone were a sweet contradiction to the calloused hands that were sitting on your bare waist, sheets wrapped loosely around your lower halves, head tipped back and one hand tangled in the still wet strands of his hair.

He smelled like soap and the flowery shampoo you’d brushed through his hair an hour earlier, the strands of your own hair still wet and messy, drying in the lazy heat of the late evening as the warmth dragged on and on. There were birds outside, setting off towards their nests as the sun reached lower and lower toward the horizon, and the voices of everyone who was emerging to take part in the nightlife.

It was bittersweet, the several days you’d already been able to spend together were coming quickly to an end, and every single one of these visits felt like it was shorter every time, the hours dripping away and feeling like seconds when you were in his arms. Your hand tightened a little in his hair, pulling his head back up, shining lips still puckered from where he’d been leaving happy kisses along your shoulder and neck, bright eyes sparkling with questions at your interruptions of his ministrations.

Licking over his lower lip, kiss-bitten and red, they twisted into a smirk, and he sat up a little further, the hands on your waist moving to your hips tighter in their grip and pulling you closer. “What’s on your mind, kitten?”

“‘M gonna’ miss you.” Your hand loosened in his hair with your whisper, moving to smooth back the longer strands of his hair from his face, and the smirk was falling way, expression melting into a frown, and raised brows were furrowing. “I hate these moments, when you leave.”

“I don’t wanna’ think about that.” He mumbled, lips brushing your own as he sat up a little more and you let him, the sparks distracting you, mind clearing of the foggy sadness just enough, and your lips melded gently with his. A delicate kiss, something that made every nerve within you start to light up, and your nails were once again stretching against his scalp, a moan echoing into your mouth as he dove a little deeper, and you let him pull you closer.

Your chest was flush to his own, your thighs squeezing at his hips as you sat steady in his lap, the materials of the blankets falling a little lower as you moved, and his hands dared to slip further. Palming lower, reaching around your back with fingertips tracing your spine, until you were moaning just as much into his mouth as he was into your own.

“Let’s just have tonight. Don’t think about tomorrow, just spend this last night with me, kitten.” The waves were lapping at the dock, seagulls were squawking and the leather and cotton of his clothing that he had abandoned and scarcely put on in the days since he’d stepped back into your arms were lingering all around you, a floating haze that made it hard to forget your misery. “Please, darling. Stop thinking, just be with me.”

“Okay, Mitch.” His begging broke something within you, and you weren’t sure when he’d gained that kind of power over you.

When you’d first met the dashing pirate, he’d been nothing but a distraction for the night. The man with the bright eyes and teasing smirk who’d stepped into the bar you worked at, and by the end of the night, he’d been falling into your sheets. Every time he and his crew stopped at the docks, he would find his way back to you, years of stealing a few days ashore before months apart, and he’d grown on you. There were piles of letters sitting in your drawers, with stamp marks from all over the globe, as he wrote you in his times away, still promising to return.

Every time he came back to you, it got harder to watch him leave again. “Okay, baby, then make me forget you’re ever gonna’ leave.”

“Now that, I think I can do.” His wicked smirk was back, the same one that had drawn you in all of those years ago, hair a little longer now, flopping in his eyes and needing you to push it back, but the same smirk. Except, now, there was something more hidden behind it. His hands were firm on your back, holding you close, hearts beating together against one another, and his thighs tensed. For just a second, you were weightless, letting him move you, until your back was meeting the mattress, tangled sheets kicked off from around your bodies to lay uselessly at the end of the bed.

The fabric dipped, warm lips finding your neck once again, the same place that he knew so well, the one that and you back arch and a broken moan spill from your lips. He took advantage of the spot, pressing his tongue flat to it and soothing the graze of his teeth. His hands held him up, body falling flat to your own to hold you steady as you squirmed, and you gave in to the weight of him over you. “Mitch!”

“Yes, kitten?” He was teasing you, it was obvious from the sounds of his voice, and yet you couldn’t help the needy sound that left your lips. His tone was raspy, deep and broken and enough to make your head spin, the kind of tone that only ever came out when he was within the sheets, alone with just the two of you, or whispering in your ear to distract you when you were working. “Tell me what you need, what you want.”

“I don’t know what I want, I just need it.” His chuckle made a heat flush over your skin, your fingers already digging into his back as his lips moved down, leaving wet kisses and marks ready to blossom purple from red along your skin, love bites and bruises would be dotting your skin by the morning. Your hips were already rocking up into his, nipples pebbling on your chest from the cool breeze and he was twitching and growing against your thigh, intoxication making it hard to even breathe when you were with him. “Please..”

“Oh, let me take my time with you.” He whispered, words vibrating against your skin as his lips moved down your torso, kissing across your stomach, until large hands were palming at your thighs, tempting them further apart, until he could lower himself to the ground. With a strong grip, he pulled you further down the bed, until your legs could hang over his shoulders, and you were a giggling mess amongst the sheets from his manhandling. Flittering kisses so light you could barely feel them were tracing up your thighs, muscles shaking with anticipation as he did, but he made sure to tease you, never reaching where you wanted him, taking his time as he took you apart. “I want to make sure I can still hear all the pretty noises you make until the next time I’m here.”

A pang of sadness settled in your stomach, but it was quickly eradicated, with a single swipe of his tongue along your folds. You keened, hips bucking up at the feeling, everywhere else on your body feeling cold from the chill of the breeze at the window, and his face pressing between your thighs. He repeated the motion, rough and unshaven stubble scraping against the soft skin at the tops of your thighs, a kind of burning friction that made you tremble.

He knew exactly what he was doing, swipes of his tongue, teasing you and lapping up everything he’d drawn from you simply with his teasing. Your fingers were tangling in his hair already, the man had barely begun, you knew how this went, and you were already pulling at the soft and dark strands, trying to pull him closer, force him to do more. There was fire licking at your guts, a twisting that threatened to become a pull, but it was all in longing because as soon as you let out the first whine of his name, a threat that you were growing closer and closer to your orgasm, he pulled back.

Your clit throbbed, the wanton need of being abandoned when you ere settling right into the burningly hot pleasure, and you tugged a little harshly at his hair, a punishment for his actions, that only got a punishment back. He bit at the inside of your thigh, just beside his hand, as the other shifted, knuckles dragging along the soft flash as you hissed at the receding pain, and erotic thrill that was soothed as he licked at it, kissing the area delicately to finish.

“Have some patience, honey. Let me take my time.”

“I don’t have any patience left!” You scoffed, one hand freeing from his hair to grip helplessly at the sheets. You could appreciate the whiny tones of your voice, but there was nothing you could do to stop it. Not when he was teasing you, when he was right there, edging you each time, like he hadn't been doing the exact same thing for days, dragging or every climax and every moment until you were shaking and delirious and knew nothing but his name. “Please, Mitch, I need it.”

“You can beg better than that, I know you can.” He cooed, condescending but in the sweetest way, and a blossom of embarrassment flushed over you as you realised not one thing within you was ready to stop you from telling him just how needy you were. The pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, so light that you gasped at the spark of electricity it gave. Not enough pressure to bring you over the edge and start your climax from building back up, but surely enough to interest you.

His thumb remained, playing with the little bud, rolling it under the pad enough that you were struggling to breathe as he toyed with you, and his hand twisted, the tip of one finger circling your entrance.

“Use your words, tell me what you need. If you’re a good girl, I’ll give it to you.” His words were tempting, it was all that you wanted, and so your very last shred of control was gone.

“Fingers.” You managed to stutter the request out, and he laughed again, hot breath washing over your core and eliciting a squealed plea from him at his proximity, your head digging back into the cushions. That one finger slipping into you, an unladylike moan leaving you, one that was almost too pornographic for the simple act, and yet you clamped around that digit, desperate for anything, now. He stroked that one finger slowly, rubbing against your walls, knowing just where to press and drag that made you tick, and you were shaking, head barely able to hold a thought as your pleasure began building once again, but there was something lingering at the tip of your tongue. “I said fingers. Plural.”

“Oh, demanding.” He mocked, tutting a little, but slipping a second finger into you, stretching you out deliciously as he scissored the digits, and his other hand was holding your thighs open, sternly, each time they threatened to clamp shut as the tightening in your stomach only grew. “But, I can see how needy you are, so I’ll let you off, this once.”

Your breaths were pants, a soft sheen of sweat forming along your skin as your hips bucked up, rolling in time with his movements. His fingers picked up their pace, he could read your body like an open book, the clenching and erratic thrusts, the was you called his name, everything telling him that you were oh-so-close to tumbling over the edge into utter bliss.

His head ducked, the loose fingers you’d had still tangled in his hair slipping away as he moved, and when his lips wrapped around your tingling bud once again, your fingers were gripping at the pillow beside your head. A loud cry of his name, only a few more light licks and nips, his fingers stretching you out for the more that you knew was coming as he taunted the spongy pad within you with each movement, and you were done.

Sinking, drowning, falling right over the edge of the cliff with nothing but curses and his name spilling from your lips lick a chant. He kept going, everything a hazy blur of sensations and feelings. His fingers left you, letting you feel hollow as he cleaned up his work with his mouth, taking in every drop you had to spare until it was all too much, and you were crawling back up the bed and away from him, legs snapping closed and thighs trembling as your body was racing with the feeling.

Your mind was spinning, panting for breath and forcing your eyes to crack open, only to catch sight of him wiping the back of his hand across a glistening chin, before sucking languidly on two glistening fingers. Your mouth was dry, lips dryer, licking at them as you tried to steady your madly beating heart, and one of his knees met the bed.

Bobbing in the cold air and fully hard, his cock was leaking silvery trails of precum, throbbing vein along the underside disappearing as his fingers wrapped loosely around himself, pumping slowly. His haze was burning, bright golden eyes now the swirling colour of the whiskey in bottles that lined the bar several floors below, and you wondered if they could hear you, calling his name, because the raw feeling in your throat made you think they could. You didn’t care.

“I’m gonna’ remember this. How you look right now, flushed cheeks and wide eyes, messy hair, all spent and trembling just for me. When I’m lonely at night, I’ll remember this.” Your arms stretched out, weak and shaky but held out to him, and he didn’t hesitate. His other knee followed, hand leaving his shaft to be able to crawl up the bed towards you, and he collapsed down, barely holding himself up as your arms wrapped around him.

One hand on his prickly cheek, the other around his back, the muscled flexing under your palm as he leaned in close enough. Your lips met, a messy clash of tongues and teeth a needy kiss that portrayed everything you were too scared to say. It was a confession of love, a plea for him not to leave, but also, the understanding that you knew he had to. He didn’t belong on the land, Mitch was meant to be at sea. Fleeting visits to the docks to see you between journeys away, and you knew each time he came back to you, it was more of a risk every time.

Every time he came home, he threatened to be discovered, Navy men to drag him away to lock him in a cell, but he didn’t care, because he needed you, just like you needed him. But one day, he wouldn't return.

Wet cheeks slid together, gasping breaths between tearful goodbyes that went unspoken. Long ago, when lust had turned to something else, you’d stopped saying real goodbyes. You’d spend the night wrapped up together, promises between your hearts to return, tangled in the sheets as your own promise was to wait for him, and you’d never break it.

Kisses grew frantic, need taking over longing and he settled between your thighs when they parted. The hand on his back shifted, smoothing down between your bodies until you could take a hold of him. Pumping a few times, his cock gave a jerky throb, a hiss falling from his lips when you swiped away the precum from the head, before lining him up.

One quick thrust, a simple movement of his hips, and he was sinking into your depths slowly. Inch by inch, agonisingly slow but you wanted to make the most of it, to remember just how it felt to be this close to him before he was gone in the morning. You had to, because you didn’t know when he’d next be back. His hips were nestled to yours, his fingers taking your hand from between your bodies, stretching it up along the mattress until his fingers were linking with yours.

You held on tight, his lips brushing along your cheeks and neck, buried there as he began to move, and your fingers scratched marks down his back, reminders to take away with him in the morning.

Nobody had ever made you feel the way Mitch did. A lowly pirate and the barmaid who worked for a room and her keep, it felt so right, since the first moment you’d met him. He had no home, only the sea, and more money than he could spend with a criminal record to match it and heart with just as much gold, and you had nothing but a room to share and love to give when he had nobody to hold him at night.

Your eyes were rolling, far back in your head as your silent promises were made, silent confessions and mumbled whispers of praise and joy, between pants. The cold from the window and the cold in your heart were both banished as he lay atop you, slow and steady, not just fucking you through the grief but also making love. It was something you both needed, something you had come to rely upon.

Bucking your hips up into him, you met him thrust for thrust, sloppy and messy clashes of skin with his lips chasing yours constantly, panted breaths and foreheads sliding together it was intimate, it was meaningful, and you clung onto him. As you toppled over the edge, back arching to press up into him, feeling him trembling just as much as you were as you chased your high, he followed right after you.

White hot bursts that made your voice raw as you cried his name, thrashing as he fucked you through it all until you were utterly spent, and he was too. You didn’t move, frozen in the moments as you caught your breath, eyes still closed and feeling his lashes fluttering against your cheeks as your breath was shared between you, before he collapsed a little further.

Pressing a tender and delicate kiss to your forehead, he pulled away, the warmth his larger form had provided for you left a stark absence as he moved, wandering away to the bathroom to find a washcloth. You shifted, every muscle and joint on your body feeling heavy as you reached to the end of the bed, tugging up the sheets and letting them rest over your body, still feeling sensitive as the rough cotton brushed your skin.

He returned a moment later, hair pushed back out of his face and cock softening as he walked, tugging up the blankets just enough to soothe the ache between your thighs, but one that you wouldn't change for the world. He left a kiss against your knee, and one on the inside of your thigh, before throwing away the cloth to the floor, and deciding he couldn't stay away much longer.

Settling himself down beneath the quilt, he was quick to spread himself back out across you, head resting just beneath your chin, cheek pressed above your heart, and arms wrapping around you. Silence too over, your fingers carding through his hair as you tried not to cry again, to keep your emotions at bay, but you knew he was struggling just as much.

“I miss you already, and I’m still here.” He spoke first, stealing the chance from you as words very similar sat at the tip of your tongue, and he twisted his head enough to press a kiss to your ribs, before settling back in once again.

“I know, baby. But I’ll be waiting right here when you come home again.” He only nodded, your throat sore and eyes stinging front he burning of tears, and you couldn't hold them back any longer. Your fingers stilled, a shaky breath in that you couldn't hide from him, and his head lifted from your chest.

“Oh, kitten, please don’t cry. Not for me.”

“You’re the only one in my life worth crying for, Mitch.” His own eyes were shining, a hypocrite in the finest as he begged you not to shed tears when his own were threatening to spill, and the lump in his throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly.

“You know, I’ll be gone by the time you wake up, because of-”

The guards, I know.” You gave him a weak smile, the same routine he always had, nothing had changed, except for the pain that came with it, growing every time.

“So, don’t cry. Let me fall asleep next to your pretty smile, so I can remember it until I come back.” You could only nod, letting him wipe the tears from your cheeks, even if his own did finally break free, but he ignored them. Even when they fell from his sin, soaking wet patches into the sheets, and his head lay on the pillow beside your own. “You’re the only good thing I’ve ever had, you know that?”

You smiled again, a genuine smile this time, and you tried to give a watery laugh, a joke forming to lighten the mood. “Oh, please, I come second to that ship of yours.”

“Well, she is a beauty, can’t deny that.” He sighed wistfully, letting you change the subject, and soft laughter was shared between you, trying to disguise the moment. Slinging an arm over your hips, he pulled you a little closer, until the tip of his nose was brushing your forehead, and your eyes were closing, tired body curling into the warmth he provided. “See you real soon, honey. That’s a promise.”

When you woke up, it was to the bright light reflecting off of the mirror and towards you. You’d never closed the bedroom window the night before, and you’d certainly not closed the blinds, leaving the sun to wake you up at an almost obnoxious hour as it breached over the horizon.

It was still cold, warmth yet to spew from the rays as it was still so early in the morning, and you pulled the sheets a little tighter gourd yourself. They were all yours, no resident to share them with, and while you tried to push away the pain of that feeling, it wasn’t leaving any time soon. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light, before they were shifting slowly over the room.

It always felt bigger when you were here alone.

The chair that had housed his clothes was completely barren now. It had seen several stages of emptiness over the last few days, occasionally all of his clothes had been there, occasionally everything but his boxers, and on the times you’d dared to vary away from the room, he’d only worn his shirt and those leather pants you both deposed and adored. His coat and vest had always remained, but now, it was completely empty, everything down to his boots.

The trinkets he brought with him were gone too, except for those which were gifts he brought for you. The golden pendant he had brought you was hanging on the corner of the mirror, a pretty jewel sitting in the middle. It was one you’d never get to wear, it was something far too expensive for a woman who worked just to maintain the bed she slept in would wear, but it was a sweet gesture nonetheless. You detested the idea of storing it away in a drawer with all the other gifts, though.

Before meeting Mitch, your life had been just rough for you. You’d never left the city, and you never questioned your place. You worked in the tavern in exchange for a room and any spare change given to you by the patrons, and it had been sufficient. The day Mitch had met you, he’d told you stories of other lands and places, of all the travels he’d been on and everything he’d seen, and your mind had been at unrest since. You’d never known anyone like him.

Suddenly, life seemed dull. When he came home, it was with bright colours and stories and enough to make you feel alive, and when he left, everything was grey, and cold, and dull. You wanted more.

Sitting up a little further, you stared around the room. What had once felt like home was now strange to you. The walls were a colour you hadn't chosen and the floor was holding a rug you didn’t like. You didn’t choose any of it, you didn’t choose this life, but there was one that you could choose.

It felt so stupid, now, that you’d never taken the risk before. The thought had always crossed your mind, since the very first meeting with your pirate you’d dreamt of running away to do more, but you’d never ad the means, or the chance. It felt so far-fetched, like a simple dream to distract you during quiet shifts or lonely nights.

You couldn’t do it alone, but now, you didn’t have to.

Your legs tangled a little in the blankets as you attempted to stand, too quickly for your body to process as your head spun, and with a single peak out of your window, you tried to see as far as the docks. Gulls were circling, diving to the ocean and the beaches to pick at the shallow swimming fish and the barnacles on the ship, and a familiar set of sails was still rising, yet to depart from the land.

There was a bag under your bed, one big enough to carry just what you needed, and you dropped to your knees. There would surely be grazed on your skin from the friction against the rug but you didn’t care, because you fished out the worn tartan satchel you hadn't used in years, a layer of dust covering. Brushing it clean, you set to work. Shoving a couple of dresses and sets of clothes into the bag, you only took what you could carry, stuffing it closed and attempting to fasten the latches once it was as full as you could get it.

The sheets were left unmade and tangled as you rushed to get ready, hastily fastening the buttons along the front of your corset as a simple dress sat underneath. Everything else could be left behind. Your final touch was putting on the necklace you’d been given, the gold pendant sitting against your skin in a pretty shine, resting just between your breasts as your fingers played with it over the laces of your dress.

You grabbed the bag, hiking it up and onto your shoulder, feet moving quickly down along creaky wooden steps toward the tavern below.

There was only one other woman awake at this time, a young woman by the name of Cindy, who was mopping the floors of last nights spilt ale and wine. Her head snapped up to look at you as she hear you arrive. It only took her a moment, silence between you both as her gaze moved over you, to the bag on your shoulder and to the necklace you wore, before she was smiling.

The grin she wore was wide and bright and she dropped the mop, placing her hands on her hips. “Chasing your pirate, huh?”

Your cheeks flushed, jaw dropping, and you stared at her for a second, before your eyes were narrowing. “How’d you know?”

“Well, we’ve all been waiting on it.” She teased, your flush only growing in warmth, and you wandered toward the door as she picked the instrument back up, ranging it out in the bucket of water. “The way you to act when he comes home, the way you look at one another, we’ve all been waiting a while.”

“Yeah, well, today’s the day you can all stop being so nosey.” You sighed and she giggled, rolling her eyes at you, and you took a few steps forwards across the clean stone floors. Unlocking the deadbolts on the doors, the chiming of the clock tower rang out loudly, signalling the beginning of the morning, and her smile fell away, as did your own.

“You’d better hurry before all the ships leave the dock.” You nodded, the finally bolt coming undone, and then you were gone. Out into the chill of the morning, sea breeze making it this far into the town from the shore, and the clock continued to chime until the minute was up.

Cobblestone melted away under your feet, the chill getting larger as the wind grew stronger, and the pathways faded away beneath your feet. You were running, your lungs burning from salty sea air and the sudden gasps you were taking, shocks running up along your muscles with every pound of your feet against the pavings.

The docks were much more lively than the town was, fisherman already hauling to shore their catches for the day, and ships and crew were already beginning to load up their cargo for their next destinations. Bodies filled the wooden pathways, making it hard for you to see where you were going any longer.

Weaving between people, shouldering through the crowds, you caught sight of a familiar blue beanie. It was one of the deckhands on Mitch’s ship, you were sure of it, enough to place your one and only chances on as you followed him through the crowds. You’d seen the man a couple of times, milling around the tavern and the town when he came into the docks, and your hopes were proven successful when your feet were docking the boards of a familiar ship, but one you’d only ever seen from a distance.

As your boots hit the flooring of the ship, you received a varied set of looks. Some were smirks, men who knew exactly who you were, standing up to their full height with hands on their hips as they halted the work that they were doing. Some were confused, obviously with no idea who you were, and those men were mostly the deckhands and the lower ranks, ones who rarely ventured into the town as far as to encounter you. Others simply didn’t care for your presence, whether they recognised you or not.

“Where-” Your voice cracked, and you wished your nerves weren’t so obvious, and you cleared your throat a little, hoping it wouldn't happen again. “Your captain, where is he?”

Only one man answered, tipping his head towards the stairs to your left, and his eyes moved up to the highest level. Beyond the first for, several doors behind the balcony, came a second branch, out of view, save for the wheel at the front, and you stared up at it, nodding. There was a pool of nausea forming in your stomach, and you weren’t sure whether it was nerves causing it or simply the rocking motions of the boat, but you forced it away, determined to go on.

Turning back to the man who had offered you directions, you thanked him, noting the slightly more expensive vest he wore, and the way he barked the rest back to work, attempting to commit to memory that he must be someone of authority. You could learn that later, if Mitch actually wanted you to stay.

Every step up the stairs felt heavier and heavier, dread and fear settling in to quell what had once been excitement, and by the time you reached the top, you almost felt lightheaded. Stepping out onto the top deck and bracing yourself on the railing, Mitch’s back was to you, but he was more than recognisable, you’d never be able to mistake him. He didn’t turn at your presence, maintaining a white-knuckles grip on the ship side opposite you, staring out at where the water met the sky, so far away.

“I thought I told you that nobody was to bother me until we had left the docks.” You’d never heard his ‘captain’ voice before, and it was a lot harder than any tone he’d ever spoken to you before. Gravelly and raspy, you could feel the pain underneath it, and you took a step closer, dropping your bag to the floor as you found the middle of the wood, timid to reach out to him and trying to find the right words to say.

“Well, then, I’m sorry to interrupt.” He stiffened, body shooting up from where he was hunched over, and he spun to face you. The frown that had been fixed on his face dropped away, lips parting as his jaw dropped, and he stared at you, eyes moving over you slowly, as if trying to convince himself that you were really here. Taking a breath, you prepared your next words; “But, I was just wondering, if you had room for one more aboard?”

“I, uh-” He stuttered over his words, licking his lower lip as his mouth closed, before he was taking only a few large strides across the deck, until he was barely a few feet from you. “Really? I mean- well, you’re here. You want to come to sea?”

“I just can’t be away from you anymore, Mitch, and I’m hoping that feeling is mutual.”

He let out a shaky laugh, nodding his head, and closing the gap just enough that he was able to cup your face. As he did, and his thumbs smoothed over your face slowly, as if confirming to himself you were truly there, his bottom lip shook slightly, before he was biting down against it. “Of course, it is. How could it not be, kitten? You have no idea how many nights I dreamt about coming back to you, and asking you to come away with me, but then I would see how happy you are, and I could never do it.”

Your hands settled against his waist, a funny feeling clenching at your heart as you processed his words. “Well, of course, I was happy. You only ever saw me when I was with you.”

He stared a second longer, before pulling you closer and closing the gap. A soft peck left on your lips, a series of them, so quickly you were barely able to respond to them through his happy bursts of breathy laughter. You grinned, the stretch of your kisses making it almost impossible to kiss him any longer, and his affections moved up along your cheeks to your temple.

Smoothing your arms around his frame, they barely met behind his back, before he was pulling back, away from you enough to see his wide eyes, a worried expression with pulled taut brows and a frown as he stared at you.

“Wait, are you certain?” You took a breath, ready to answer, before he was hurtling on; “It can be dangerous. Pirates are typically seen as criminals in a lot of lands, there are chases and fights. There are storms at sea, and sometimes food shortages, and-”

You pressed closer, lips meeting his as you silenced him, and the man melted against you. His heart was thudding in his chest, pressed up to your own as he kissed you back. He reciprocated your urgency, the caresses of lips against one another, hands gripping tightly to whatever you could grasp as his hands smoothed down from your cheeks, holding you close to him, like you would slip away if he didn’t.

It was tender, and he whined a little as you pulled back, puckered lips chasing your own needily, and after a soft smile and a final peck with weakness, he straightened himself out, recomposing his captain-ly authority. “You're, just, you’re sure that this is what you want, even despite everything?”

“I don’t care about anything else, as long as we’re together. “ Your hand ran up his chest, your promise ringing true to him as your hand settled over his heart, and he smiled, nodding and dipping his head down enough to rest his forehead to your own.

“Good, because my heart was breaking more and more every time I had to say goodbye to you.” He dipped, noses brushing before he kissed you, a simple peck. “Well, you know, if it’s a pirate’s life for you, now, we’d better get you settled in.”

“Oh, yeah?” His hum vibrated against your lips, and you leaned up to kiss him, but he pulled back teasingly.

“Why don’t I show you the captain’s quarters, huh?” The sails were going up, and the shouting of the men below as the ropes were undone and anchors lifted were like white noise in your ears.

“Show me the way, captain.”

#Mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp x reader smut #mitch rapp/reader #mitch rapp/reader smut #mitch rapp au #mitch rapp American assassin #mitchtober #mitch-tober #mitch month #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader smut #dylan obrien mitch rapp #dylan obrien american assassin

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softstilinskii · 3 years

Text

The Right Path

word count: 2,548

characters: prince!mitch x princess!reader

summary: being a princess and having to marry your ex-best friend and now (slight) enemy was not what you had in mind for the future, but this event does reveal some truths between you guys.

notes: this is my fic/imagine for Mitchtober, hosted by the talented @writingsbychlo! It’s also the first written work I’ve ever posted on tumblr, so I hope it’s alright! :)

Also, a special thanks to the lovely @meistilinski! She helped me write this piece and she’s just super talented and amazing! <3

warnings: a sprinkle of angst (I guess?), a few curse words.

Walking around in the royal garden was normally the favorite part of your day, but at this moment it was absolutely not. Because while your parents were discussing the terms of your arranged marriage with the parents of your enemy and soon-to-be husband, you were stuck with him. Mitch.

The two of you have actually known each other since you were little. Being royalty of neighbouring kingdoms and your parents liking each other instead of being rivals, pushed you together, but you two had never liked each other. Well, that’s not entirely true. When you were little you were the best of friends, but when you were teenagers, that friendship had turned to dust. For some reason the two of you just didn’t click anymore. Every time you talked it turned into some sort of argument or disagreement, which only made the hatred you had for each other grow.

Maybe it just wasn’t destined to be.

✧─── ｡ﾟ★: .✦ . :★. ───✧

You were walking through the rose pergolas to go to your favorite spot, with Mitch right behind you, when he decided to speak up, and ask the question you realized you didn't quite have the answer for. “Why do you hate me so much?” He looked straight ahead, your gaze not leaving the roses either. “I don't hate you, I despise you.” Your answer made Mitch scoff, and he rolled his eyes. He was expecting an answer like that, yet he hoped for a proper conversation.

As the two of you walked past a little pond where you loved to sit at and walked up the steps to the lookout spot, you heard him mumble something under his breath. “This is the stupidest thing I've ever had to do. I don’t even want to marry you..” You turned around and looked him straight in the eye. “Can you stop moaning? Just so you know, I'm doing this for my kingdom. If the choice was up to me, I would not have suggested marrying you,” When Mitch was just about to answer, you interrupted him.

“Your brother though, he is quite the gentleman. Nothing like you.” You whisked your hair over your shoulder, turned around and walked away towards the edge of the little lookout spot. A proud smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

For a moment it was silent. Only the chirping of birds, splashing water from a fountain and the soft sounds of the village you were looking over were able to be heard. That was until your peaceful atmosphere was rudely interrupted, again, by the last voice you wanted to hear.

“If you adore my brother so much, why don't you marry him? He’s more husband-material anyway.” He suddenly stood behind you, and you froze at his voice, not realizing he’d followed your tail. If it weren’t for the focus on the splashing water and sounds of chirping birds, you were sure you would've heard him strutting behind you. “Maybe he’d grant you every wish you desire, princess.” The arrogance was clearly evident in his tone, and you didn’t even have to look over your shoulder to know he crossed his arms like his usual moody form. The nickname wasn’t new for you either, he usually called you that, wanting to let you know you were spoiled, but you didn’t seem to care. You were a princess after all.

You let out a deep sigh, inhaling scents of the nature around you before turning around slowly. “Dear Mitch, that’s not how marriages work for people like us, unfortunately.” You could practically hear him roll his eyes.

Before he could say anything more though, you decided it was enough, so you walked away and circled around his body. Mitch shot question marks your way as you paraded around him but he didn’t follow this time. Instead he just watched as you made your way back to the palace. “Lovely talk as usual!” He yelled at you and you turned your head while still walking away. “I wish it was, yet it really wasn’t. Goodbye future husband.” You grinned as your head turned back around, hair dangling with every step you took, and you wish you could see his face right now. Calling him future husband probably upsetted and annoyed him, but you knew there was no way both your parents would call off the engagement. You knew he didn’t have a choice, and you didn’t have one either.

✧─── ｡ﾟ★: .✦ . :★. ───✧

The next day arrived sooner than expected, unfortunately. Yesterday when Mitch annoyed the shit out of you and made sure you knew he did not want to marry you, was actually not as bad as you thought it was. Well, aside from the constant bickering. But after all the engagement shit you’d had in the past couple of weeks, that day was actually a day where you were able to relax.

That didn’t count for this day, though. Today was the day that you, Mitch and both of your parents had to make all the agreements and plans for the future, most essentially the benefits of this marriage for both kingdoms. The kings and queens were set on the fact that you two were going to marry, with or without your approval. And since you two have known each other since you were kids, they thought you two could profit from the marriage as well. Little did they know...

The hours of sitting still in a room and not actually having a say in any of the things your parents were discussing, was the most dreadful experience of your life. And you weren’t being dramatic. Even Mitch had the same bored and unamused look on his face as you had. At least there’s one thing both of you could agree on.

It wasn’t a surprise you immediately went back to your favorite spot in the garden, just to stare at mother nature. The sunlight that shone through the leaves, shone bright on your face and you sighed. You could stay here forever.

“Figured you’d be here.” A voice said from a distance away and your eyes snapped open. You felt irritation fuel, something that just happened automatically whenever you would hear his voice.

“Why on earth would you require my presence, it’s not like I require yours.” He simply ignored you and rolled his eyes. He then walked a little closer, standing next to you, and leaned against the railing as well. It’s funny that you two were in almost the exact same spot as yesterday.

“Let me try that again, differently.” He cleared his throat. “Nice weather isn’t it? It explains why you’re here again.”

“Yeah, the same weather when I was in the embrace of a liar.”

He chuckled. “Good one. Did you make that up just now or do you have a whole book with lame insults?” You didn’t respond and instead, closed your eyes again. “What do you want? Figured you want to be as far away as possible from me, considering we spent hours in each other’s presence. Get to the point.”

You could feel Mitch's eyes on the back of your head. If he would look any longer, you might say he’d burn holes. He coughed, sounds of paper filling the air, and you didn't even notice the papers he had brought with him. You frowned, turning to look at him and he grabbed something from his pocket - a feather and a bottle of ink.

“I think we should go over our own conditions for this marriage. I think it's only fair that we ourselves also have some, besides the ones that our parents made.” Before you could say anything he already opened the little bottle and grabbed the feather. “Alright, I guess.”

He stood next to you and looked out over the village, feather in hand as the paper lay on the cement railing. You looked over at him, his fluffy, brown hair moving as his arm moved, to write the title. Knowing you shouldn't look that long, your eyes wanted to move away to a tree or sky, but the longer you looked, the more you felt drawn to him. You didn't want to admit it, but the hatred you once had towards him did fade a little over the past years. The anger that was within you was still present, but not as boiling as it used to be. His voice just reminded you of the same voice that told you pretty lies.

“So, condition number one,” he cleared his throat, your eyes still glued to his face. “No inappropriate touching. This thing stays professional.” You managed to snort out a laugh, cackling as the man beside you stopped his movements of his hand on the paper, and gave you an unamused glance.

“Why would you make a rule about that? Scared you're going to fall for me after we share the bed?” You mocked him while you leaned against the railing with your side. Even though the old times were gone, it still brought joy to poke fun at him. It was almost as if nothing changed. Almost.

“Not scared, I just know you.” He cocked his head with a sly smirk.

That’s true, he did know you, maybe even a little too well. Something that wasn’t in your favor, but you managed to play it cool. “Don’t worry, it ain’t gonna happen soon.”

“Alright, well, looks like you can’t take this seriously as usual, so we’ll just continue this another time.” He laid the paper down on the railing, with the bottle of ink on top. He put his hands in the pockets of his pants and you stood there in silence.

“Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“Alright, I’m still gonna ask it. You better give me an answer this time, Y/N.”

“Should I?”

“Well, you kinda owe it to me”

“Owe it to you? I owe you nothing, Mitch."

“I just don't understand why you hate me. I don’t remember what went wrong between us. And would falling in love with me be so terrible?”

“Don’t know. Don’t want to talk about it.” You managed to muster, but he wasn't pleased with that answer. And as you tried to walk away, he managed to grab your arm. He didn’t apply too much pressure, but it was still strong enough so you could not pry out of his grip.

“I know you know. You say you despise me, yet something draws you to me. And I also know that somewhere along the line, you stopped hating me. Maybe you never hated me, maybe you just convinced yourself you did. You just try to bolt off every time I try to talk it out.”

You looked at him, staying silent. You didn’t want to admit it, but maybe he was right. Maybe you did overreact on the ‘hating you’ part, but you did have a valid reason if you really had to explain yourself.

“Look, I know you never stopped caring. It’s not like you. And in the meantime while you try to convince me you don’t, know that I'll always care about you, even when you think I don't. I know I haven’t always been the most endearing, but I have no clue what I did wrong for you to hate me so much. As much as I want to hate you too, I can’t. I could never hate you.”

“Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“This,” you pointed between Mitch and yourself. “Please just, don’t.”

“Why?” He looked at you with pleading eyes. Silently begging you to tell him.

“Why?” You repeated after him, but with a tone that made sure he knew that you couldn’t believe that he didn’t know what he did.

“Y/N…Tell me why. For god’s sake, we’re getting married! Aren’t we supposed to work on the issues we have with each other now before it’s too late?”

“Fine,” You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. Honestly you were just tired. Tired of holding a grudge against him, even though what he did nearly broke you.“The royal ball, 6 years ago.”

“Yeah? What’s with it?”

“When we were kids, we made a pact. remember?” Mitch was quiet for a few seconds, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

“yeah.”

“We promised we’d be together forever, soulmates for life...”

“...Then at that ball, when we were 17, I saw you with her, dancing with her. Kissing her cheek like you always did to me. Curling her hair around your finger and holding her close. I wasn’t jealous at first, I would always be happy for you, but you chose the one girl that made me feel like I was worth nothing, and you knew. You fucking knew. Yet you chose her.”

“I wanted to ignore you, hate you for a few days. Perhaps a few weeks, let you come to me to talk about that night, but you acted like nothing happened. Something just grew inside me, eating me up. Hatred formed like a fireball in the pit of my stomach. Those few weeks turned into months, and those months turned into years.” You let out a dry laugh, done with explaining the moment that hurt you for the rest of your life.

He looked at you with big eyes. “Y/N…” He sighed, empathy evident in his voice. “At that time there were some complications between our kingdoms. Of course I wanted to dance with you that night. I was supposed to dance with you, but my dad wanted me to have other options if the issues between our parents couldn’t be fixed. I didn’t want to do it, but you know how my father is. My intention was never to hurt you, I’m sorry...”

You stared at him. No expression evident on your face. You were processing everything he just said. It wasn’t his fault, if maybe you had just talked to him this would never have happened. “I’m so sorry, Mitch. I- I didn’t know...I’ve been so cruel to you for these past years and every time you tried to talk I just walked away-”

“-I know, it’s okay. Even though we never talked it out until now, we found a way to fix it.” He opened his arms and embraced you in a hug. You missed his hugs so much. His warm, loving and tight hugs. It felt like the world around you disappeared for a moment and the only people who were there were you. “Mitch?” “Yes?” “I guess falling in love with you wouldn’t be so terrible.” He let go of you with a genuine smile plastered on his face. For a moment you just looked at each other in silence, before you decided to break it.

“So, what about our own conditions for this marriage?”

“To hell with it”

Mitch grabbed the piece of paper and tore it to shreds. He looked down at you and you saw a different kind of sparkle in his eyes. He extended his arm as an invite for you to loop yours through his, and you waited a second before giving in. The two of you walked back to the palace, arm in arm, finally on the right path again.

#mitchtober #mitch-tober #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp au #prince!mitch #princess!reader #dylan obrien x reader #mitch rapp #american assassin #mitch rapp x y/n #mitch rapp imagine #mitch rapp fluff #mitch rapp smut #royal AU

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fuckthesworld · 4 years

Text

FREEDOM TO DESIRE

CEO MITCH RAPP AU

MITCH RAPP x Reader

Warnings: SMUT and unprotected sex!

Rapp Corporation was the leading marketing firm in the world. Companies like Disney, Sony and Southwest paid millions of dollars to be associated with it. It represented actors, athletes, business moguls and small businesses. While it was in high demand it was also reasonable - sponsoring schools and nonprofit organizations around the world.

The single person driving the reigns to the crazy international kingdom that resided in London was Mitch Rapp . That’s right. He was part of a decade of strong, successful businessmen.

And he was your boss.

You had literally stumbled into the job of personal assistant. Literally. You were walking out of a coffee shop, resumes in hand when you ran into his large, hard frame. You landed on your ass and when you were able to recover, you were looking into the deepest chocolate eyes you had ever seen. His bright white teeth clashed against his tan skin, his dark locks perfectly framing his face.

Then you remembered that you had spilled coffee on one of the most powerful, young bachelors in the world.

You had also spilled coffee all over your resume and you groaned in realization, the expensive fresh pages coated in thick lakes of coffee. He had helped you pick up the lost keys to your future, taking a second to read over your resume and offered you a job. He was on the way to meet someone about being his personal assistant and you did just get your masters in public relations. You could intern while still making money and if you showed promise he promised to promote you.

Sometimes life really does work out in your favor. Sit in that for five seconds then remember that your boss is one of the sexiest, most successful young CEO’s in the world.

Not only is he attractive but he has the work ethic of an ox. And it made working for him damn hard. Probably harder than managing the clients he had. He was constantly in meetings, constantly leaving early in the morning and late in the evening. Going to galas and charity events, charming new people. He opened up smaller chains in areas in the world stricken by poverty to try to help increase job opportunities. He volunteered at schools and hospitals. He spent his Thanksgiving and Christmas and any other holiday of giving providing food for those in need. Always. He’s always been like this.

Mitch wasn’t just a CEO. Wasn’t even human.

He was a goddamn saint sent from heaven to wreak havoc on earth.

It was on such an occasion that he had asked you to attend one of his events - a large gala celebrating 50 years of business with his father and grandfather. The whole legacy under one roof. You didn’t understand why you were asked to attend. As his assistant sure you had to manage the media and who visited him. But that had been hours ago. The night was now thriving off the rich and famous drunkenly dancing and teasing each other. Mitch never drank more than two glasses of anything at events like these so you didn’t have to babysit him. But you also wanted to go home if he didn’t need you and that he refused.

You watched him as he laughed along with two of his most trusted partners, Scott Mccall and Derek Hale as they sipped expensive champagne and spoke lowly among each other. Mitch was wearing a tailored blue suit, his white button up popping against a black tie. His slight beard had grown since he shaved it these past two days and was now a short beard and all you could think about was how it would feel between your legs.

You shook your head, returning your eyes to your blackberry. You had to get it together. Everyone teased you that he had a thing for you. He never had women assistants. Preferred men to ensure that things stayed professional. Never offered people jobs on the spot either.

There was just something about you they would tease.

Well he sure as hell wasn’t making a move so until he did it would have to stay a mystery.

“You’re still working for him.”

The soft voice takes you off guard and you jump a bit, breaking from your thoughts as your eyes fall on your assailant. Standing in a dark red gown, her pale skin contrasting with her perfectly coiffed dark hair is Katrina Mendes.

Ex-girlfriend of Mitch Rapp.

She takes a seat beside you, the soft smell of Chanel wafting off her skin as she continues.

“Didn’t think a fragile little thing like you would survive a man like him.”

You knew what she was doing. Her younger sister, Annika , had warned you about this months ago. When you had accidentally ran into her at a golf tournament with Mitch. She loved him still. Despite the fact that she married someone new, moved across the world, she still loved and wanted him. Didn’t want anyone else to claim him.

You were a threat. You were beautiful, intelligent. charming and apparently upon Scott’s teasing, he spoke about you a lot. Katrina hated you. And reminded you every time she saw you.

“Surprised you’re here. Thought you’d be back in America with your husband. Oh wait, he’s in Japan with his mistress of the month.”

It was no secret her husband cheated on her. She even laughed about it but deep down you knew it killed her inside. Killed her that she chose a man like that over a man like Mitch. It made you even empathize for her…until she opened her mouth and you were reminded that karma was real.

She narrows her eyes at you before deliberately taking the large flute of champagne in her hand and slowly tilting it on your dress. On your $3,000 dress you had charged on your credit card that you had planned on returning tomorrow. You had only bought the navy blue gown to try to impress Mitch, hoping he would be charmed by the way it looked on your body.

It hadn’t and now, on top of rejection, she had ruined it and put you $3,000 in the hole.

“Have fun returning your De la Rented dress.” she smirks at you as you stand, the champagne trailing down the front of the long gown. You try to bite back tears, try not to bring too much attention to yourself as you pat at he gown down with a napkin before looking at her.

“I really hope you’re happy making other people’s life miserable Katrina. Because from what I hear, you used to be an awesome person and now, now you’re just a lonely bitch.”

You don’t notice the crowd of people who have been crowding around, watching the small scene unfold. Don’t see Mitch head toward you as you make your way down to the hallway to the family restroom. You don’t realize the tears that have been falling down your cheeks until you feel him grab your arm, turning you gently toward him.

“Y/N…” your name sounds different on his tongue and the way he’s looking at you has you sobbing harder. You try to push him away as he draws you to him, his large sculpted arms surrounding you as he whispers,

“Just let it all out.”

You don’t know why you’re crying. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve wasted $3,000 on a dress that had made little impact in your life. Maybe its because you’ve been up since 4:30 because of him, trying to make his night perfect. You missed having a social life. Missed your mom and dad and siblings. Missed your small loft in London.

Missed all of this because of him and he didn’t even give a damn.

The thought drives your sobs deeper and his grip tightens around you as you cry harder, his large hands rubbing your back. His mouth hushes you and he rocks you before you start to calm down, your sobs tampering off and you pull away, shaking your head. You want to apologize for your unprofessionalism and you also wanted to tell him he could take his assistant job and fuck off but then his left hand is hooking under your chin as he tilts your head up to you.

“I can pay for your dress. I’m sorry she ruined it. But holy hell Y/N what did you expect when you wore something like this?”

His right hand that has never left your body tampers down your back as he pulls you closer to him.

“You’ve been driving everybody mad wearing this,” he eyes are shifting now, darkening around the pupils as he licks his lips. “It should be a condemned sin.”

His voice has dropped an octave and the deep bass draws a shiver up your spine. You give your lip a light bite and he gives a short groan, the pad of his thumb brushing over the exposed skin. His hand tightens around your waist as he whispers,

“You should be a condemned sin.”

You’re looking up at him confused, trying to register what he was saying. He watches you back, trying to get a read on you before he straightens, pulling from you.

“I hope you’re feeling better.” he croaks, backing away as he takes you in one last time before he turns on his heel. You stop him, your hand shooting for his arm. You walk around him, his hair covering his pinched eyes as you whisper,

“What do you mean by that Mitch?”

He doesn’t look at you as he manages out,

“I’ve drank too much. I shouldn’t…” he looks at you and groans. “You just, I should have asked you out and not have offered you a job.”

The words takes you off guard as he takes a deep sigh.

“You’re so goddamn sexy and smart and I felt terrible ruining your resumes,” he was referencing your encounter months ago. “That offering you a job was the best I could do. I thought you’d get burnt out and quit and then I could ask you out but you’re so damn good. So damn good at everything you do so I’ve been stuck pretending I don’t care when all I want is you.”

Your dumbstruck as he looks at you and groans, shrugging out of your embrace.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. We can leave, if you want.”

He’s looking past you and you’re trying to process it all.

He really did like you.

You grab his neck, drawing him down to you, your lips pressing against his. It catches him off guard for only a second before he’s registering your actions, his hands grabbing your hips as he pushes you flush against a wall. His kisses are needy and desperate as his tongue teases your mouth open and you are consumed by him. Your hands move to his hair, his beautiful dark tresses getting tangled in your delicate fingers as he moans in your mouth, pushing his hips into your naval.

You moan feeling his erection brush against you and he pulls away, his eyes frenzied with lust.

“Not here.” his voice is hoarse and deep as he grabs you and basically drags you into the family restroom you were seeking out earlier. He shuts the door, locking it before grabbing you and slamming you against the door. He lifts you, your long gown getting lost around him as your legs hooks around his waist and his mouth is on your collarbone, sucking on the skin.

“You are so damn gorgeous,” he mumbles along your skin, his mouth nipping at your neck. “Do you know that? Do you know that you’ve been driving me fucking insane in this dress” his hands trail up your gown, his hot fingers clashing with your cool thighs and his mouth has found yours. “Drove me insane the moment I picked you up and you were wearing this.” His hands ghost over your center and you give a small yelp, as he pulls back to look you in the eye.

“You’re not wearing any underwear.” he bites his lips as he glides his fingers up your wet folds and you shiver as you stumble out,

“I always run out of clean underwear and you came so early to pick me up I couldn’t go and buy a pair.”

His hands slowly traces up and down your pussy and he watches your face twist in pleasure.

“How many times have you worked with me without any panties on?”

“Honestly?” you bite down on your lip as his thumb slowly starts to tease against your clit and your hips rock against his finger. “Like most of the time. You don’t give me enough time to do my laundry.”

Your words are soft, barely coming in a whisper and he growls, sticking a finger into you as he begins his slow assault into your tight walls.

“You are so fucking wet,” he whispers as he looks at you, a wicked grin on his face. “Are you always this wet for me princess?”

You give a weak nod as he inserts another finger and you buck against him, your hands digging into his shoulders.

“I thought I smelled you the other week when we were at dinner.” You knew what he was referencing. He had taken you out for dinner after a long day at the office at a trendy sushi spot. He had been talking to you as his nimble fingers gracefully picked up one sushi after the other, the raw fish placed carefully in his mouth. You don’t know why it turned you on but it did. You wanted to know what those fingers would feel like in you, his mouth over yours.

Now you knew.

“Did I smell you princess?” he whispers a grin gracing his face and you give another weak nod and he growls, inserting a third finger in you. You arch your back against him, hands stuck in his hair as his mouth attacks your neck again.

“Tell me what had you so turned on so much?”

You give a weak mewl in silence and he pulls his fingers out, causing you to whine. He looks up at you with hooded eyes shaking his head.

“You have to use your words princess.”

“I was thinking about you finger fucking me.” you manage out, biting your lip as your cheeks flush over. He smiles as he sticks his fingers back in you, watching your face contort in pleasure again. His fingers curls up and hits you in that sweet spot and you feel your body tensing, clawing for release.

“Were you?”

You give a quick nod and he chuckles, his mouth getting close to your ear. His fingers are merciless know, pumping into you faster as his thumb brushes against your clit and you can feel that tension in your stomach build up.

“Wanna hear a secret princess?” he whispers against the shell of your ear and you hum, your body starting to give in to the pleasure he was delighting you to. “I’ve jacked off to you every night since I’ve met you, cumming all over my body from the thought of my dick being filled to the rim in you.”

That was all you needed. Between his fingers and the image of him jacking off to you your screaming his name, your fingers tangled in his hair as your walls flutter around his fingers. He groans, coaxing you through your climax as he watches you before he pulls from you, inserting all three of his fingers in his mouth. He gives a low moan as he sucks your essence off and pulls his fingers out with a pop before your leaning into him for a kiss.

He shifts, carrying you to the bathroom counter and slamming placing you down. He yanks at his suit, pulling down his pants and boxers as his cock springs free.

“Tonight I’ll make love to you the way you deserve,” he promises as he lines himself up at your entrance. “I’ll have you begging my name by the time I’m done with you but right now I just need you.”

His cock is teasing your folds as you look up at him, your eyes darkening as you thrust your hips forward. He stops you, something dark flickering in his eyes.

“What do you want princess?” he whispers and you moan as your hands pull at his shoulders.

“I want you.”

“You want me to what?” a satisfied smirk sits on his face and you rub your folds against his twitching cock.

“Want you to fuck me with your big fucking cock.”

He groans as he slowly thrusts into you, grabbing your hands and intertwining them with yours as he raises them above your head. His head falls in the crook of your neck as he bottoms out in you, his hair tickling your shoulders and you both give a satisfied moan. You rock your hips against him, enjoying the way he fills you to the brim and he moans as he pulls from you, his hips rocking out of you before slamming back in.

“Goddamn you are tight..” he whispers as he lifts himself enough to look at you, then his mouth is hot on yours as his body claims you.

His hips snap into you, desperately chasing after your orgasm before he lifts your leg and you’re getting hit in that special spot that has you screaming out his name.

“That’s right princess. Want you to cum all over my big cock.” he whispers, his hips in a frenzy as he watches you unwind underneath him. His finger finds your clit and flicks the sensitive area and you’re screaming his name again, your body shaking as you find sweet release. His hips are sloppily slapping against your as your walls tighten around before there milking him his body shaking uncontrollably as your arms find your way around his body.

You wait a beat before saying,

“Soooo…I’m guessing I have to quit. This is the highest level of conflicted interest if I’ve ever known one.”

He chuckles, his face tucked in your shoulder before pulling away and kissing you.

“I don’t want you to quit.”

“Wouldn’t that be -”

“Unless you want to. You’re free to work in any of our departments. You’re way too good to be an assistant.” he’s rambling, something he does when he’s nervous and you chuckle, leaning up and kissing him. He relaxes as you pull away, his lips tugged between your teeth before you whisper.

“Let’s worry about it tomorrow. I should at least get a year under your belt before we talk about commitment.”

He chuckles, wiggling against you and there’s a soft knock on the door and you both freeze before you hear Scott’s voice.

“…….so uhhh, I don’t mean to interrupt you two but ummmm,” he clears his throat though you can hear the humour in his voice. “Your dad is looking for you Mitch. For a photo.”

Mitch groans and you laugh, giving a lock of his hair a tug.

“Give us a minute Scott. We need to….make ourselves decent.”

“Uh huh.” You know he’s smiling as he walks away and Mitch’s eyes are glinting at you mischievously.

“How long do you think he’s been standing out there hearing you scream out my name?”

“Mitch! That’s your best friend!” you say in mock surprise and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Scott’s always had a thing for you.” he nuzzles his face in your neck before muttering. “Besides I have another round in me.”

His shimmies his hips against yours and you gasp at his dick hardening in you.

You both make it out of the bathroom thirty minutes later.

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp smut #mitch-tober #mitch month #american assassin #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o brien #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien #mitch rapp imagine #mitchober

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forfakingfairness · 4 years

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Mitch Rapp + fire mood board

#not tw #mitch rapp #american assassin #mitch rapp + fire #mitchtober #mitch month #mitch-tober #mitch rapp moodboard #moodboard

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iwritesinsnotstraightlines · 4 years

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Icky Thump

Fandom: American Assassin (2017)

Rating: T (language, referenced violence)

Tags: hurt/comfort, injuries, Mitch Rapp Needs a Hug, I just wanted to give him some downtime lol, 1k words of Mitch just vibing

Read it on AO3:

Mitch winced, the expression pulling at the open cut across his cheek, sending a few drops of blood sliding down his face. He rolled his shoulders, muscles aching, and wiped at them, smearing red across his skin.

The bodies of several guards layed scattered around him, all of them dead. His knuckles- split open and bruised- ached, and he flexed his fingers a few times. It didn’t help.

Fishing his burner out of his pocket, he sighed, rubbing idly at his jaw. He’d taken a few more hits than usual, and it hurt.

Hurley picked up after the second ring, “Is it done?”

“The boss wasn’t here. It was a trap. He’s probably halfway across the world by now.” His voices sounded flat and tired even to his own ears.

Hurley cursed and barked something to someone, sending a crackle of static through the connection. Mitch made a face.

“There isn’t anything we can do for now. I’m sending you the address for where you’re staying. Ditch the phone you have-- there’ll be another there for you.”

“Yes, sir,” he said. “What about clean-up?”

“We’re sending a crew now. I want you gone when they get there.”

Mitch hummed an affirmation, already heading for the door.

“Oh, and Mitch?”

“Yeah?”

“Take a breather. I don’t want to have to haul you bloody corpse out of some hotel room because you don’t know when to fucking quit.”

He could feel the sardonic smile on his face- a little fond, a little exasperated- as he rolled his eyes and replied dutifully, “Yes, sir.”

Mitch pulled the hood of his sweatshirt on, ducking his head and taking the back way out of the building. He walked quickly to the car he’d been given for the mission, staying out of sight until he was in it.

He locked the doors and peered around into the back seat before sliding the hood off and away from his face and sagging as he started the engine.

People tended to question bloody, injured men.

Mitch hated questions.

He drove to the hotel in near silence, the drone of the radio fading into the background as a pounding migraine settled into his skull like the beat of a thrumming bass.

He hid his face again for the walk into the hotel, avoiding everyone’s gazes. Thankfully, no one tried to mess with him, and he was able to make the trip in peace, locking the door behind him and leaning on it heavily, letting his eyes close for a moment to breathe.

God, he hated walking into set-ups.

Mitch checked around the room first, making sure both doors- one for the hallway, and one for the balcony- were bolted shut before he actually let himself relax a little.

He hissed as he pulled his top off, blood sticking the fabric to his skin and making his wounds sting as he pulled it away.

He balled the shirt up and tossed it into the trash. He rifled through the duffel bag which had been left on the bed for him, easily finding the new burner and turning it on. He set it on the nightstand.

He found two changes of clothes and a small first aid kit, grumbling to himself when he realized they left him without a weapon.

Fucking suits.

Mitch snatched up the kit and took it to the bathroom with him, grimacing at how beat-up he looked.

His lip was split near the corner, leaving a trail of red down his chin. There was a bruise on his cheek that was already turning purple, and he could easily see the beginnings of a black eye. Various scrapes, nicks, and cuts marred his chest, cracking him like a broken mirror, leaving it a riot of color as swelling and bruising appeared under blood and sweat.

He showered first, ditching his clothes from the mission and throwing them away with what had been his shirt. He idly watched the rust-tinted water swirl down the drain, the heat and steam forcing tense muscles to give.

He washed up quickly once the water began to run clear rather than pink, eager to be able to actually sleep for the first time since he’d been assigned to this mission.

He dried off with one of the fluffy, white hotel towels because fuck it, he deserves nice things right now. He ruffled his hair dry, combing it away from his face with his fingers. It’d started growing out again since he last cut it, leaving it wavy and wild.

Mitch bandaged up what needed to be, taping gauze over a few slashes on his torso, and smoothing butterfly stitches over a cut on his eyebrow. He dressed when he was satisfied, thankful that they at least remembered to leave him something other than jeans and a sweater this time when he slid on sweatpants and a t-shirt.

He collapsed on the bed, groaning in exhaustion and burying his face in one of the several pillows. They were fluffy, but stiff, and he scowled at them- annoyed- and patted them into a better shape.

His phone buzzed.

He cracked an eye open, half-disbelieving, and waited until it went off again, sitting up and cursing everything.

A message from a number that wasn’t saved into the phone- probably Hurley- popped up.

‘Make sure to eat something. Don’t just pass out. There’s food and water in the mini-fridge.’

On second thought, it was probably Irene. Hurley didn’t normally care what he did in his downtime, but she tended to get snippy with him when he ‘wasn’t taking care of himself.’

Mitch huffed, setting the burner on back on the table. He rolled back over, pulling the blankets off.

He padded over to the small ‘kitchen’ area in the room, yanking open the door to the fridge. There were a few bottles of water, and some boxed-up takeout from a restaurant he didn’t know.

He heated up the food in the microwave, forcing himself to eat and drink slowly even though he didn’t want to. He drank another half-bottle for good measure, downing some of the over-the-counter painkillers he found with the clothes and the phone.

This time, he remembered to shut off the dull, yellow light of the lamp before he tumbled into bed, yanking the blankets over himself, and letting his eyes close.

Finding sleep wasn’t difficult, not this time.

#fanfic #ao3 #mitch rapp #american assassin #mitchtober #mitch-tober #mitch month #long post

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bloodredx · 2 years

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Day 3: Control

No matter what, the Precious Living grant this form too much credit. That one might shape and form all that is seen. Mountains falling, oceans rising. Perhaps in the distances of eternity, had one better notions of greatness there may have been a chance. Opportunities, potentialities. Fun? Omniscience does not grant creativity. Shame. For the best it was torn out, transformed and made into beauty. If only for a brief, flickering moment. All the same, omnipotence was no better a gift. Cast away sooner, and for the better still. No, all this world is that due form in itself. All this form held hand in, mixing, stirring, failing at the one task. Separation. The one task to be controlled and yet this form could not have heart to stand it. For it has not a heart to stand.

All elements, all energies, all alone. All apart at one time or another. At least from before Time itself. How boring, trite. Chaos was set to watch, but witness what? Stillness, loneliness, nothing. Chaos was introduced, and Chaos was wrought. Swirling, dancing, beating, the Song was started slow, crescendo inducing until a place ripe and unique. All was done, all it was to a pin prick, a stone in water, rippling and wavering out in unpredictable ways. And so made thou, the world and everything around. All the beauty, misery, and grace. Even flawed in itself, the symphony built and collected. Sounds united and clashed. Gorgeous. Holding alone, together.

Acts of creation were limited to The Children and the Beloved. Pitiful things both. Memories of what once were to images neither have ever known. Control, how boorish. To dare assume the Precious Living were anything of this form, a disgrace to the Precious Living. Far better, anything doomed by this touch. Fascinating. To make the Song last. Just a bit longer.

“Step, one, two, three. Step, one-“ The instructor droned along to what should be grating music. Mitch however found it comforting, the gentle strings plucking against his ears as he did his best to keep step with his partner, a girl in his class a year younger than him. Smart, if I recall. Isaleth? Was’at her name? His thoughts did enough to break his step for a second, but it was quickly corrected. His double-step to get back into time pulled deep in his muscles, tugging at bruises he wished he could forget. Mitch winced, again falling out of time with the music, his foot falling on his partner’s.

She yelped with pain, hands falling from his shoulders as they reached down to check her toes. “Sorry, sorry.” He also reached out to try and sooth her, but she brushed him off.

“Ya’ve done enough.” If only young ladies could spit.

The needle lifted off the record, causing an unpleasant scratching sound. Mitch could feel the weight of all eyes on him, fellow students and the instructor alike. But in this room he was without peer, or at least so he felt. Certainly by blood he was of this crust, at least that’s what Pa always expected, no, demanded. Another throb of pain along his back, and even though his father wasn’t here with him, his touch was never far.

“Mitchell, ya simply gotta keep up.” The coarse tone of the instructor, Mrs. Railia’s, voice, and despite the disappointment, Mitch couldn’t help but feel calm in her presence. This anger wasn’t the rage he knew, if it was anger at all. Hard for him to tell. A slight sigh, and her hand grasped his shoulder. “’right y’all, take five.” Her voice dropped low, so only he could hear. “Come with me, let’s go up an’ talk.”

Parting the small crowd of fellow students, the instructor lead the way out the practice hall and into the corridor, turning up the stairs to the balcony over Reedsdale’s art district. The sun was just starting to hang low over the sky, a few rounded clouds interrupting the beams as they floated lazily across the sky. The heavy humidity of the mid-summer air stuck in Mitch’s nose as he leaned against the ivy-lined railing, wind rustling gently through their leaves. He closed his eyes, wanting to take in just a moment of peace. It was short lived.

“How ya doin’, honey?” Concern dripped from her voice. “Ain’t like ya to be outta step.”

“No ma’am.” He resisted the urge to slump his shoulders, and instead bit his lip. “I’ll do better.”

“Everythin’ goin’ alright with ya? Ain’t been too chatty either.” Mitch didn’t look past his peripheral, eyes out on the crowds of people walking the streets, doing their best to soak up the last of the day’s light. Normally, he’d like being at practice, he liked dancing after all. An excuse to stay out if nothing else. Better than to hear the fighting, the horrid coughs, see the disappointment at what he simply couldn’t be. Regardless, there were other beautiful things to bear witness to, and very few of them remained at that old house out in the swamps.

The silence was carved out a touch too long, and knowing he wouldn’t get out of here without an answer he resigned to give a simple response. “Just havin’ a bad day, ma’am.” His mind wandered farther. Could just jump off the balcony. Make the landin’ soft at the last minute, ain’t no one’ll know.

Mrs. Railia shifted slowly, as if sensing anything strong would spook him, and rested a hand on her chin as she too joined him in gazing out over the city streets. “Mitchell, you graduate high school soon. Have you put any stock to your future?”

What future? He scoffed internally. “No ma’am.”

“Pity. I think ya got somethin’ good goin’ on there, ‘least when ya can get ya mind to it. Ya feet always follow suit. Got a grace I ain’t seen for some time in a student. Plus, ya play the six string, yeah?”

“Where’d ya learn that?” He grimaced slightly, waiting for the iron to drop, but still didn’t look at her.

“Ya hear what needs to be heard when ya get to my age.” She chuckled softly. “Banjo too, right?” He nodded. “I ain’t gonna tell ya Pa, if that’s what ya worried ‘bout. Ain’t none of my business. But, if ya got any talent in it, ya outta pursue it. Ya may not know it yet, but ya ever think that the Song moves through ya?”

No amount of self-control could stop him from rolling his eyes. “Sure, and ya gonna end up next parade leader of the Festival of Tears. Please.”

“Mind ya manners, young man.” She chastised softly, a hint of amusement lurking in her grey eyes. “If ya ain’t got nothin’ else, least ya name might get ya looked at for Bardic training. I know ya grades ain’t that good, but if ya ask, I’d write ya at least a letter.” Mitch winced as her hand fell on his shoulder, muscles tensing in preparation. But when no blow struck, he turned at her gentle insistence, finding Mrs. Railia’s yellowing teeth the source of a hopeful smile, rather than the fangs of a wolf.

“Ya mean that?” Disbelief washed over him.

“I do.” She nodded firmly. “Ya just gotta promise me one thing. That ya won’t let whatever storm ya got brewin’ on the inside control ya for the rest of ya life. I’ve seen bad fruit, and ya ain’t of that stuff. Whatever vine’s got ya snared now ain’t gonna hold ya forever. So just promise me, a’ight?”

In the distance, the bells from the old clock tower began to chime, interrupting whatever words might have come to his lips. “Gettin’ to be that time already?” His teacher mused softly. “Well, we got more waltzes to go over, and those classmates of ya ain’t too eager to get on with it. Best not keep ‘em waitin’.”

(OC-tober challenge by @oc-tober2022 can be found here)

#oc-tober #oc tober #oc-tober 2022 #Mitch Anderson #Bones #mage #dance #control #Adamsa Priasi #cosmology #bard #writers on tumblr #Bloodredx writes #oc-tober2022

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neonjawbone · 3 years

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It’s OC-Tober!! My favorite time of year, when I spend the month of October drawing a different character of mine every day, all the while posting free-to-read descriptions of them on my Patreon!!

2021 WEEK ONE

Bath (she/her) // Saturday Weekes (they/them) // Lochan Lal (they/them) // Elvis Carcha (he/him) // Otto Von Kelvin (he/him) // Mitch (she/her) // ??? (he/him)

You can follow along daily by following me on twitter, and you can support me making the stories these characters live in by pledging to my patreon!

#oc-tober #oc-tober 2021 #i have bathed in the blood of armies and kings #saturday weekes #lochan lal #elvis carcha #otto von kelvin #mitch #paradise #swamp monsters #of thieves and swords #blood #eyestrain #maybe #my characters #THE BEST TIME OF THE YEAR!~#the dread seas #AND A FREE TIGER POSTER

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fanficsourcesx · 4 years

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Silence - Part One

Author: @fanficsourcesx Prompt/request: requested by anon -- Could you please do a Mitch writing? Say that the reader was kidnapped because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time and Mitch and Hurley raid the place finding her worn down and chained up maybe. They take her back to their headquarters and tend to any wounds she might have and wakes up not trusting anyone fighting with Mitch a little before realizing that he’s trustworthy. Eventually the reader trusts him enough to ask him to stay and sleep next to him and they end up kissing. TY!😊😘 Warning: cursing, angst, kidnapping, abuse, & I believe that is it! Pairing: mitch rapp x reader Notes: this story inspired something in me and it definitely deserves more than one part. I want to really capture the story between Mitch and the reader, so please forgive me for turning this into a little series!! I sincerely hope you enjoy it. also this fits quite well into @writingsbychlo mitch month (mitchtober) series so I wanted to tag you!!! I love your stuff. anyway, here it is folks. Words: 2,369

masterlist

The cold morning air grazed against my exposed skin and caused slight goosebumps to surface underneath the material of my clothing. The light purple sweater and tight jeans I had on weren’t a fair match to the dropping temperatures. I was here in Italy for a little vacation or more of a celebration since I had finished my final semester in college. I was meeting my other friends at the little coffee shop down the block from where they were staying. I should have waited till they were ready to walk over here but I liked having a few moments alone, especially somewhere as beautiful as here.

A soft grin pulling the corners of my mouth up as I went up towards the entrance and requested a table for four people. The streets nearby were a bit narrow, making it a bit quieter on that side of town since not many vehicles were driving by and given the early hours of the morning there weren't a lot of people nearby. Just a few occupying tables inside and a few others on their everyday strolls it seemed. Following the lady towards the table, I thanked her softly before taking a seat.

I was certain my friends would be here in a matter of minutes since the time we agreed on was approaching. Taking a look around, I noticed a dark haired male who didn’t appear to be Italian and I wondered if he was on vacation for the same reasons as myself. He had such an intense look in his eyes and he seemed to be focused more on his surroundings than the flaky croissant barely touched on his plate which was a shame because it looked rather delicious. He took a sip from the coffee cup in front of him and I decided I should mind my own business, turning my eyes back to my own surroundings.

As the waitress approached my table, I ordered a cappuccino and a croissant since I was inspired by the male across the street from me. When she left my view, I was a bit shocked to see him standing only a few inches away from where I was sitting. Eyebrows rose in confusion, hoping that my obvious staring didn’t encourage him to confront me. I wasn’t exactly the best in confrontational situations. Even though it seemed like he came over to share a few words, his eyes were scanning directly behind me.

In that moment though, I couldn’t help but notice how soft his features were. The honey brown eyes were striking enough but the several freckles that covered his face were very attractive. The way his tongue grazed his bottom lip ever so slightly and how his lips looked soft and rather inviting. He’s incredibly handsome and anyone would be able to notice that.

“Hi, sorry. I don’t normally do this but I’m Mitch. I saw you eyeing my croissant and I thought I should come and offer it to you.”

He laughed and it was a bit deeper than I would have guessed but the words were enough to crack a smile across my lips. I knew I shouldn’t have kept looking for as long as I did. A soft shade of red covered my cheeks as I avoided eye contact at first.

“Lucky for you I ordered my own, so you don’t have to share. Thanks for the offer though, Mitch. I’m Y/N.”

Just like that, the dynamic of this conversation switched as I heard tires screeching against the pavement behind me and I noticed his eyes widen. I nearly feared looking in the direction of his eyes because I didn’t want to see whatever was causing such a look on his features now. He looked panicked and uncertain. A feeling I was beginning to mirror as he tried to step closer to me, whispering in a low tone towards my ear.

“You need to run, Y/N. Please.”

I could see the seriousness in his eyes but that still didn’t take away the obvious shock my body felt as I was frozen to the chair. I didn’t understand what I was supposed to be running from. What the fuck was happening?

I dared to turn my head around to see what he saw but quickly my mouth was covered by a rather large hand. Then it felt like several arms were wrapping along my waist, using all their force collectively to remove me from the chair. I let my eyes fall on Mitch, who mouthed that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me but it was too late for that. What if he was a part of this somehow and decided to back out at the last minute and that’s why he suggested I run? Anything was possible at this point.

Regardless of how little I knew him or trusted him, it didn’t stop me from shouting his name against the stranger’s hand. Somehow hoping that one yell would save me from whatever my fate was about to be. I could feel the tears building up in my eyes and I truly never felt this scared in my entire life. I began digging my nails into the arms that had me by the waist and I tried to bite at the hand holding my mouth but nothing seemed to make a difference. Whoever this was had it planned out thoroughly and this wasn’t a battle I could fight on my own but that wouldn’t stop me from trying.

“No — no. NO! Fuck.”

I heard his voice echo in the streets as my body was thrown into the back of a dark colored van, one that didn’t have a single marking that would make it stand out amongst the others. That’s when the true panic set in, it’s in that moment of realizing he wouldn’t know where or how to find me. There were no other witnesses besides him and who am I to trust a person I didn’t really know.

Seconds later there was a soft cloth being thrown over my head and now any chance I had of watching the streets to gain some sense of where I was being taken was hopeless. Although I could feel the tears daring to fall, it wasn’t the time for it. I had to start thinking of a plan if I wanted to survive. Another set of hands were holding mine as some sort of rope was used to tie them together against the small of my back.

“Don’t let her move.”

I heard a deep voice say and I nearly winced at the tone. None of this added up. I didn’t know anyone here and it’s not like I ever involved myself in situations for it to lead up to this.

“What are we going to do about Mitch, boss? No way he’s going to let us just take off with his girl.”

His girl. They thought I was some sort of pawn in their game against Mitch but they had it all wrong. I didn’t even know who he was until about five minutes ago. I should have spoken up and let them know that taking me wasn’t going to benefit whatever plan they had but I said nothing. I knew it wasn’t in my best interest to speak because I still had no idea what these men were capable of. Feeling the van come to a sudden halt, it gave me a good indication that whatever our final destination was hadn’t been too far from where I was taken.

“You fucking idiot. That was the point of all this. We are setting the trap to take down Rapp once and for all.”

I swallowed the rather large lump beginning to form in my throat. I hardly knew this Mitch but I still didn’t want their plan to work — no one deserved to die except for these two idiots who can’t even kidnap the right girl. Hearing the slight crack of doors opening, I knew it was time to be moved to a new location now. Feeling the tug along my tied hands, one of the men began to guide me out of the van.

“Jump.”

He demanded as I trusted that the ground would be underneath me as I hopped out of the van, landing in a rather awkward stance as he jerked my hands and forced me to walk straight ahead. The cold air felt nice and for a second, I was able to breathe without having that heavy feeling in my chest but it quickly disappeared as the other kicked at the back of my calf to let me know I needed to hurry up. I must have been in public view and they needed to hide me. Fast.

The only sounds I heard was other people talking and slamming of car doors, nothing that would help me gain direction on where I was. We entered a building and I could only tell when the wind stopped touching the small bits of skin I had revealed. I had to hold onto the fact that I wasn’t going to be killed until at least Mitch showed up, since I was the bait or that’s what they thought at least.

“Take her over there.”

The male stated while pushing me towards another person in the room, now they had control over where my body was to end up next. In the distance, I heard what sounded like chains being rattled and an uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly the cloth was pulled off my head and the light from inside the building caused my eyes to squint, it was too bright after all the darkness I had surrounding me.

Glancing at the room around me, I saw nothing but a broken down vehicle that was separated into parts in the right corner. A bunch of windows that clearly had stones thrown through them, a somewhat large door that made her believe this used to be some kind of garage for a car mechanic shop and at least five other men crowding the space around her. It smelt old, wet, and like no one had cleaned the inside of this place for months.

I let out soft cough before a guy rather tall in size walked behind me, he began working on the ropes holding my hands together but I was stupid to even think he was doing that to let me be free. Instead he used that same material to bind my feet together, while leaning towards some of the chains hanging down from the ceiling. I shut my eyes for a moment, thinking if there was any way I could get myself out of this but it was me against five other people. It was fucking impossible.

I couldn’t be stupid about this otherwise I’d get myself killed in a matter of seconds. I heard a key being turned in a lock and the sound of it popping open sent chills down my spine. He grabbed for my wrist and for a second I went to pull it away but ultimately let him have his way. It wasn’t the time to fight right now and I had to stop that natural reaction from happening. He brought the metal and cold cuffs to my skin, latching it out both of my wrists and it immediately caused my arms to rest above my head.

It definitely felt like my shoulders were being popped out of the place, given how tight of a pull the chains were causing. Out of nowhere, the contact of a rather firm fist came down on my cheeks and hit directly on the bone. I whimpered quite loudly and those tears from earlier had no choice but to fall now.

“What the fuck was that —- “

It didn’t matter what I had to say because they didn’t want to hear a single word unless they asked for it and they made that obvious by coming in contact with my face once again. Basically hitting my cheek in the exact same spot. Fuck.

“Now that is my turn to speak — where the fuck is Mitch?”

Oh, fuck. Come on. I had absolutely no idea how to answer that, given I didn’t know a single thing about Mitch except for his first name and what he looked like. They were going to think I was lying if I said I didn’t know him but what else was I supposed to do?

“You better talk, bitch.”

Another person in the room demanded but I didn’t bother making eye contact, instead I focused on a greased stained spot on the floor. Just as I separated my lips to say a few words, I was cut off by someone’s boot kicking the side of my abdomen and I gasped for the little bit of air I had left. How the fuck did they want me to talk from a blow like that? Now I was starting to get pissed off — more than before.

“I don’t know a goddamn thing about Mitch and if you were smart, you’d already know that you got the wrong fucking girl.”

I managed to cough out the words since the pain in my side was beginning to rise rather quickly. It felt like my skin was on fire.

“Let me ask you again. Where the fuck is Mitch Rapp?”

I shut my eyes momentarily but this time when they opened, I decided to look at that motherfucker right in his dead and dark eyes.

“I. Don’t. Know.”

I witnessed his partially tattooed hand lift up in the air, making it accessible to use as a weapon against another part of my body but the sound of a door suddenly slamming open behind where I was chained up caused silence amongst everyone. A few of the men went towards the disturbance but the noise of a gun clicking forward, singling that it was fully loaded stopped the actions of everyone in the room.

I began to worry that someone else was here to use me as pawn in their game but hearing a somewhat familiar voice left me with mixed feelings. Was he actually here to do the saving or to finish the job these men had started?

“Well, would you look at that? I’m right here.”

Mitch said in a tone of voice that reflected heavy sarcasm and I began rattling the chains, hoping that some sort of movement would free my hands. I had to get the fuck out of here.

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp imagines #mitch rapp fanfiction #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagines #american assassin #american assassin fanfiction #american assassin imagines #mitchtober #mitch month #mitch tober

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sweetbunanarchy · 4 years

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Day 4: Crush H-He’s got a few ;>w>

#sweets' drawings #ocs #my ocs #oc-tober #oc-tober 2020 #drawtober #Suffer #Mitch #Red #Holly

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stilessssss · 3 years

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Elevate Your Hopes Up

#mitchtober #mitch-tober #mitch rapp moodboard #mitch rapp #mitch rapp imagine #mitch rapp x reader #moodboard

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mystic-writings · 3 years

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lattes & sharpie markers | mitch rapp

PAIRING — mitch rapp x fem!reader

SUMMARY — you're a regular customer at the coffee shop that mitch works at. after years of pining after one another, mitch writes his number on your coffee cup

PROMPT — mitchtober week day four - alternate universe

WARNINGS — mutual pining, fluff

WORD COUNT — 1,752

NOTE — this is for the fourth day of mitchtober!

masterlist | navigation

Going to Kennedy Coffee was always the highlight of your day. No matter how good or bad your day had gone, you could always go there to relax, destress, and enjoy a latte or two. It was always quiet, the people who worked there were nice, and there was always an open seat in a comfy chair by the door waiting for you.

Ever since you moved into your dorm for college, you’d been spending time between and after classes there, sometimes so long that you would end up watching the baristas close and have to finish your studying, reading, or homework, in your dorm.

You were such a regular that, over the past four years, you’d managed to make even Stan Hurley, the co-owner of the shop, fond of you. He and the barista who almost always seemed to work the afternoon shifts, Mitch, had gotten to know you well over the years. As soon as you entered the shop, either one of them would greet you and begin making your latte.

The shop was your safe space. It had a homey feel to it, and no matter what, it would always feel like a second home to you. So, when you walked in that morning with a book in hand, you made sure that you would enjoy what could possibly be your last day in the cozy cafe.

Mitch was working the shift that morning, which you were grateful for. He was cute and kind to you, although he was a little stiff and angry sometimes. You learned that he had only gotten the job to pay off his loans and keep himself afloat during college, but it seemed that, since he graduated about three years ago, he grew to like the job.

Over the time that you knew him, the fluffy haired barista seemed to have captured your heart, from the way he practically memorized your order, made sure that, no matter how long you were there, you ate and weren’t without something to drink. Or maybe it had been the way you bonded over books and the stresses of college, how easygoing he became a few weeks after you started going there.

Even though you never spent time outside of the cafe, he was one of your close friends, but you still haven’t talked with him - or anyone else that you knew in the cafe - that you were moving out of the area tomorrow.

You sat at the table you always had, pulling out your well-worn copy of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, watching from your peripheral as Mitch worked on your latte. It didn’t take long for him to turn up, carrying a latte and a croissant, like always. He sat down with you and you tucked your book away, bringing your attention to the man in front of you.

Mitch’s eyes darted down to the book, laughing when he saw the cover. “You still have that old thing?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “It’s my favorite. Besides, I gotta have something to keep me busy all day, now that classes are over.”

“Okay, but the book you brought with you the first time you ever stepped foot in here?” Mitch asked. “I mean, that’s gotta be at least 50 kinds of symbolic or something,”

“Maybe it is, Rapp,” you said, playfully scrunching your face at him. He laughed, and you could’ve sworn butterflies were fluttering so hard against the walls of your stomach that they would burst out at any moment.

Even though Mitch’s break was only about 20 minutes long, it was normal for him to spend at least an hour at the table with you. And when he was called back into work, he would still deliver your latte every hour on the hour, along with the occasional snack. You chatted about everything and nothing. Your books, what crappy shows were on TV last night, how boring Mitch’s home life was.

Sometime around two o’clock, Mitch took his second break, bringing more coffee for you, and two croissants for you to share. He picked at his food, cracking jokes about how somehow, despite all the work his co-worker Liam had put into them, the pastries always seemed to be a bit too dry.

You laughed along to them, shaking your head before quieting down. In the pause, you decided to break it to him. “Look, I won’t be around all day,”

“Why?” Mitch asked. “I mean, you don’t have a shift at that shitty retail job, and it’s not like school’s a factor anymore,” he leaned back in his chair, “you normally spend all day here when you have nothing else to do, anyway.”

“Yeah, I know, but-” before you could finish your sentence, your phone began to vibrate on the table. Reaching for it, you were glad that it was face down. “Hey, Linda. Yeah, I’m free today, why?”

Mitch was only hearing half of the conversation, but he grew more intrigued with every word you said. “Really? Like, today, today? Are you sure? Uh- okay, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there in about an hour.”

You ended the call with a smile on your face, giddy from the news you’d just received. Mitch eyed you suspiciously, picking at the flakes of his pastry while you tucked your phone into your pocket.

“What was all that about?”

“I guess there isn’t any way for me to tell you other than just… coming out with it, is there?” You sighed, wrapping your fingers around the teal cup of coffee.

“That depends, are you telling me you’re dying, or are you trying to tell me I’ve got something on my face?”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that fell from your lips. “No, no, you’re fine. And I’m not dying. But things are changing.” You told the man. “Since I graduated, I can’t live in the dorms anymore, so I’ve been looking for an apartment. That was my realtor on the phone. She told me that my landlord’s old tenants moved out early, and I could pretty much move in today, if I wanted to.”

Mitch’s face brightened as a smile grew on his face. “Y/n, that’s amazing!” When you didn’t quite share his excitement, his smile faltered. “There’s a catch, isn’t there?”

“Yeah, there is,” you nodded. “I’m moving out of the area. I won’t have a lot of time between moving in, and I’m starting my job at that publishing company in a few weeks, and I don’t think I’m gonna be able to come around as much anymore, if at all.”

And just like that, the happy mood Mitch had been in decreased almost completely, replaced by the sadness that he wouldn’t be able to see you, then by the panic that he’d likely never get to tell you how he really felt about you.

“Oh.” He said. “Well, at least you’re getting to where you want to be, right? I mean, I remember when you started coming in here every day, studying your ass off to be the top of your class so you could be a writer and start publishing other people’s books, and your own.”

You laughed, nodding at the distant memories. The time you spent here was always good, and there was rarely any negativity that you would associate with the shop. And despite the fact that you knew that, at some point, you would be back, it upset you to know that it wouldn’t be the same. You’d come in, chat with Mitch for a little bit, grab a latte to go, and that would be it for a little while.

Hurley called Mitch back to the counter as the break time rush came in, needing his assistance manning the cash register. You watched the scrawny interns flow in, lining up behind the only open cash register to place impossibly long orders for their bosses in an attempt to please them. You knew that, in the beginning, you would likely be the same, just the new girl who ran coffee orders and important messages, and you wouldn’t get to do any real work for a little while, but you knew you would be okay with it.

As the end of the hour ticked closer, you packed up your book and joined the people in the line. You didn’t even have to say a word when you reached the register, laughing at the jokingly exaggerated sigh as Mitch put in the order, motioning for you to pay for everything you’ve consumed, along with the next latte that you would be taking to go.

As Mitch grabbed the cup to make your last latte, he realized something. If he didn’t make a move now, he sure as hell wouldn’t be able to make a move later. So, as he marked the contents of the cup, he turned it and, near the logo, he wrote 10 digits in black sharpie marker, a winking face next to it. He felt stupid, but he knew that this was the only way he could attempt to ask you out without messing it up for himself.

With an erratic heartbeat, he slipped the sleeve onto the cup and passed it to you from behind the counter, a smile plastering his face when your fingers brushed. He watched you walk toward the exit with no reaction, simply taking a sip from the lid as you went.

You watched Mitch from the other side of the counter as he wrote something extra on the side of your cup. You tried to contain the burning on your cheeks as you accepted the cup, taking a sip and savoring the flavor of the latte, knowing it would likely be your last from this cafe for a while. As you approached the door, you got a closer look at the black marker that stood out so boldly against the white paper cup. The 10 digits and the winky face was more than enough context, and this time, the burning on your cheeks was uncontrollable.

As your hand rested against the cool metal bar of the door handle, you gnawed slightly on your lip before turning around. “Hey, Mitch,” you called, catching both his attention and the attention of half the customers. “I’ll call you later tonight, yeah?”

Bashfully, Mitch failed to control the blush and giddy smile that bloomed on his face, only capable of nodding at you for confirmation. Satisfied, you turned and left the café, feeling like you were walking on air.

Forever taglist: @simonsbluee @reeseswritings @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04

Mitch Rapp taglist: open!

taglist form is in my navigation!

#mitch-tober #mitchtober #mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp x you #mitch rapp x y/n #mitch rapp imagine #mitch rapp fluff #american assassin fanfiction #american assassin x reader

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