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the-hinky-panda · 8 months ago

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Out of the Woods Series: Part I

Title: Out of the Woods Series

Pairing: Mitch Keller x OFC Reader (Sadie Maxwell)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: An old friend of Mitch's is in need of some help and Dwight seems to be the guy to do it.

Dwight has passed by Trudy’s Diner multiple times but never stopped into the place. It sits on Route 66, about ten minutes east of the Mayo hotel. It looks like a tourist trap; the stereotypical fifties diner with neon signs, red vinyl booths, and black and white tiled floor. The waitresses’ uniforms are shirtwaist dresses and colored flats, like what his mother used to wear when he was a little kid in Brooklyn. It’s loud, bustling, and old-fashioned in a shiny way. Even though the waitresses are sporting bobs and high ponytails, they’re carrying tablets in the pockets of their full skirts.

He follows Mitch to a corner booth where he and Tyson settle into place while Mitch asks for you. The perky blonde waitress says that you’ll be right out and breakfast is on the house for everyone. Now that he’s in the actual place, he has to admit the blending of old and new is quite seamless. There’s free wifi, which Tyson is happy about and the coffee smells strong and fresh, which he is happy about. Every surface is spit polished and all the uniforms are pristine. It’s the sign of a detailed business owner.

When you arrive at the table, he’s not surprised at how young you look, or that your outfit is also classic fifties but with high waisted pants and tucked-in blouse. You’re pretty, professional but that’s not surprising. He is surprised at how Mitch looks at you, like you’ve hung the moon and stars. Now he knows why Mitch wants his help with your situation, whatever that may be. But you return the look as well. There’s a warmth in the way you greet Mitch, lingering touches and choosing to sit next to him in the booth. Old friends, sure.

“I really appreciate you coming to meet me, Mr. Manfredi.”

“Dwight, please.” He shakes your hand and it’s a firm, solid grip. Another good sign. “Mitch tells me you have an issue that you need some help with.”

You fold your hands on top of the table. “It’s a multistep solution to a large problem but I’m not exactly sure which step you would be able to help with.”

“Well, let’s go through those steps and find out where I may be able to help.”

Plates of food arrive before you’re able to get into the nature of the problem. Eggs, hashbrowns, sausages, bacon, and something he’s never seen before. It looks like finely ground oatmeal but there’s a large pad of butter melting into it.

“What is that?” he asks.

“Those are grits,” you answer.

Tyson is shaking his head. “My mama would be so disappointed in you right now.”

“I think we’re all a little disappointed right now,” Mitch adds.

“Well excuse me for being out of circulation when it comes to fine dining.”

You put a healthy spoonful of them on his plate and hand him the salt. “It’s ground up corn, so very good with salt and butter.”

“What are you trying to do,” Mitch nudges you, “give him a heart attack?”

“Oh what,” you counter, “like you’re running a health spa over at the Buck?”

“You keep this up, he’s not going to help you.” Mitch gives you a crooked smile. “Your ornery is showing.”

You give Dwight an apologetic look but he raises his hand. “I actually quite enjoy this kind of ornery. Makes me feel like I’m back home, sitting around the kitchen table with my family.” He’s quiet for a moment, remembering those times with his mother and father speaking rapid fire Italian, thinking he and his siblings couldn’t understand what was being said. His brother poking his sister under the table with a fork and Dwight doing the same thing to him but with a knife. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good time at a dining table.”

Your problem is precisely as you explained it: it’s large but with a multi-step process. The problem is your husband of almost ten years won’t sign the divorce papers. You’ve been living in your own one-bedroom apartment, running the diner, earning your own money. You are, for all intents and purposes, independent from him. The catch happens to be who he is, or rather who his father is. Your father-in-law is filthy rich, first in oil and then in the medical marajana business. Your husband has been put in charge of two dispensaries but because of his own drug, gambling, and frequent need for out call massages, the business isn’t doing well. Your diner, a business that doesn’t remotely interest Cal Thresher Senior or Junior, is making twice what both pot stores are making.

Dwight leans back against the booth. “So you want a divorce from this jack-off and he’s not giving it to you because you’re worth more than him.”

“And daddy is pulling the strings,” you add. “And by strings, I mean he has the best lawyers in the midwest working for him. So even if I do get Junior to sign the divorce settlement, I’m going to be left with nothing.”

“Not to be unkind but it sounds like nothing would be something if it gets you out of the marriage.”

Mitch picks up his coffee cup. “That brings us to why you’re gonna want to help her.”

You sigh and glance around to make sure no one is listening in on the conversation. “My father has a business and he’s struggling to keep the doors open. I’ve been helping when I can but my finances get monitored too closely for me to do much. He was diagnosed with lung cancer a year ago and the medical bills are killing him just as fast as the cancer. I want the divorce, but I want to leave with enough money to save his business.”

“And I’m supposed to care about his business, why?” Dwight asks.

You give him a slight smile. “It’s a gun shop.”

#mitch keller x ofc #mitch keller x reader #mitch keller fic #mitch keller #tulsa king fic

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were-cheetah-stiles · 8 years ago

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The Recruit (Chapter 4) - Mitch Rapp

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “Day 12″

Characters: Mitch Rapp, Stan Hurley, Rob Russells & Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, some more touchin’, cursing.. there will pretty much always be cursing.. I curse a lot, so now you as the reader will to. I’m. Not. Sorry.

Author’s Note: Another favorite chapter, this one was just fun to write..

Summary: Stan has the recruits create an undercover identity so that they can infiltrate a college reunion and convince the guests that they were also members of the graduating class. Mitch and Y/N have a moment.

Additional Note: This is very, very, very loosely based on like an idea from an episode of Quantico. Loosely being the operative word.

Additional Additional Note: In the original story, this is not Mitch x Reader, it’s Mitch x OFC, and her name is Willa, so when Rob says “Will Petersen blah blah blah” that’s where that came from.

Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five

Stan stood in the front of the charter bus, his hands gripping the seats next to him, as he spoke to the recruits. "We're going to be pulling up to the hotel ballroom in a few minutes. Just a reminder that going undercover is not going to be easy, and we will be stopping the people we see talking to you before they leave to see if they believed your cover story or not. Remember, College of William and Mary is a medium sized university. The graduating class of 2012 was about 2,100 people, so while it's enough for you to get by, these people will probably be able to tell when they don't recognize someone. If you don't know your new identity backwards and forwards, tonight, you get punished back at the Barn. If you don't know your undercover identity in the field, you get killed, so take this seriously. It’s not just a party with free booze. You’re all working."

"Are we allowed to use each other to play off of our identities? No one ever goes to these things alone." Rob asked, making a good point.

"That's true, Russells. Most people would not show up to a five year college reunion alone, but I don't advise this unless you know enough about someone else's identity to not expose them as a fraud, and in doing that, yourself as a fraud."

Mitch watched from behind, through the crack in between the seats as Rob turned to you and stuck out his hand for you to shake. "Nice to meet you, I'm Will, Will Peterson and I'm from New York City, and I speak three languages." Rob grinned and Mitch smirked, and snickered to himself.

You stared at Rob with a deadpan expression, and left his hand still floating in the air. "......you stole my identity and made me a man?" Rob nodded, vigorously grinning. You rolled your eyes, and huffed, finally flimsily shaking Rob's hand. "Fine. I'm Maggie Sheffield and I'm from Portland, Oregon. I swear, I think I once sat next to you at a football game at Zable Stadium."

"This is going to be awesome." Rob was overly excited.

You walked in the hotel ballroom, dimly lit and full of people, and made a straight shot towards the bar. You immediately ordered a microbrew craft beer, then sat down on a bar stool in the middle. You were wearing black suede thigh-high boots with a tall, chunky heel, with a short cream colored dress that hugged your body and showed off your toned figure. You sipped the bitter, hoppy beverage and sucked at your teeth. You hated hoppy beer, but you were crafting a character, so you drank it anyway.

You glanced at the end of the bar and saw three guys huddled around eyeing you. You pressed your tongue between your lips, and leaned over the wooden bar. "Hey, can I ask you a quick favor?" You got the bartender's attention. He turned back around and grinned, happy that the beautiful girl had stuck around instead of leaving the bar to mingle with the other alumni. "Can you wait until those guys aren't paying attention and pour out half of my beer, then put it back here?"

The bartender glanced over at the guys and looked back at you. "You trying to get them to buy you a drink?"

"Kind of..."

"You know it's an open bar, right?"

"I know." You smirked.

The bartender stepped back and eyed you up and down. "Yea, I'd buy you a drink at a free bar because of that dress too.."

You playfully bit the tip of your thumb and smiled. You knew how to play up the flirtation and get a guy to notice you. The bartender sneakily did as you asked and you took another sip of your now almost empty drink, making eye contact with the one in the middle, as you licked your lips and placed your glass back down. You checked the delicate rose gold watch on your wrist, and fiddled with your hair, twirling it around your finger.

"Hey, can we get you another drink?" You smirked as you heard the voice of one of the men who had walked over with his buddies from the other end of the bar. You had succeeded in seducing them over to you.

You turned and gave your most devastating smile to the three men hovering next to your seat. "I would love that. Thank you. I can't seem to get his attention."

"I don't know how that's possible with you in those boots but I guess he didn't see you walk in like we did... YO, bartender! We'll have another round and some shots of tequila." One of the guys yelled obnoxiously. You faked flattery and a giggle, and looked for the bartender. You caught Mitch leaning against the bar directly behind you, waiting for the bartender to take care of his other customers before getting to him, and glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "I'm Brian, and this is Zach and Andy." The guy in the middle made introductions, snapping your focus back to your marks, as you flirtatiously shook their hands. You all did your shots and continued talking.

"Wait, no way, what semester did you take European Lit. with Mr. Moore?" You asked Brian, leaning in to let him get an eyeful of your cleavage.

"Spring semester, Sophomore year. I know you were in that class. I remember you." Brian told you, buying the story that you had pawned off on them.

"Oh my god, I absolutely hated that class... what was that one book we read that was just awful? Ugh, I can't remember the name... it had that guy.."

"Beowulf!" Brian shouted drunkenly.

You paused for a half second, after being surprised that this idiot in front of you picked such a good classic book. You heard Mitch snicker behind you. "That was it! God, that was such a stupid book... Grendel was not even that scary.." You laughed and took a sip of your drink, watching the three men talking in front of you about their careers and other things that you couldn't care any less about. You heard Mitch's voice behind you.

"Steven Greene, nice to meet you." Mitch said in his low, husky tone.

"My friend and I were saying that you had to be someone's date because we definitely would have remembered someone as gorgeous as you at graduation." The woman speaking to Mitch giggled drunkenly.

"Ah yea... I've, uh, lost some weight since graduation, but uh what are both of your names?" The women fawned over him, divulging their life stories. "Oh wow, I'm from Bethlehem." Mitch told one of them, trying to feign excitement. You rolled your eyes at their conversation.

"You're from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania?! NO WAY. I grew up in Allentown. That's amazing. What high school did you go to?" The woman named Stacey pushed her hand against Mitch's shoulder causing Mitch to lean back against you. You kicked him lightly under the bar and Mitch grinned.

"I went to Freedom High School, all my friends went to Liberty though." Mitch explained. He had clearly done his research and you were impressed at how confidently he spoke about a person that didn’t exist.

"That's so funny, I knew a couple of kids at Freedom. Did you know Matthew Yeisman or Sarah Keller?" The woman drunkenly babbled.

Mitch shook his head. "The names sound familiar but it was so long ago now..." He shrugged.

The more sober woman interjected and asked Mitch what he did professionally since college. "Well, my freshman roommate and I, we moved up to New York together after graduation and both work on Wall Street now at Morgan Stanley." Mitch answered confidently, and listened to the woman’s next question. "Oh, we lived in Yates Hall." Mitch answered the woman who was trying to find common ground through his freshman dorm hall.

You were forced to cease eavesdropping on Mitch's conversation when you heard your cover's name. "Maggie.. Maggie, I asked if you want to dance?" Brian asked you, putting his hand on your knee. You thought about the ways in which you could break his fingers.

You smiled. "I'm sorry, I'd love to. But I have to use the ladies room really quick. I'll be right back. Order me another drink!" You shouted as you walked away, with zero intention of returning.

You walked through the room looking for Rob and Julian. You wondered how they were making out. You saw Rob standing next to a group of four women who all looked annoyed and bored. You grabbed an hor d'oeuvres off a moving tray and popped it in your mouth, then grabbed a champagne off another tray and downed it, trying to get the taste of the IPA off your tongue.

You got close enough to hear what the girl in the blue jumpsuit was saying to Rob. "I seriously don't think you were in my women's studies class junior year. There were three guys in that class and I would've remembered one as gigantic as you." You watched as one of the other women whispered to her friend about Rob. "This guy clearly didn't go here, he is so clueless. I bet he’s just another one of those party crashers."

You decided to intervene on your friend's behalf. You ran up to Rob and grabbed him by the arm. "Will? Will Peterson? Oh my god, I haven't seen you since graduation! How are you?"

Rob looked stunned, and then snapped back into character. "Maggie! Maggie Sheffield, how are you?" You hugged the large man.

"I'm sorry, ladies. I didn't mean to interrupt. I just, I had to. I took a Women's Studies class with Will here in Senior year and for a guy, he was so insightful. He wrote a paper about misogyny that our professor literally read out loud to the class because it was so thoughtful." You were charming and disarming. The women all relaxed and began chatting to the two undercover trainees.

"Ugh, I always wished I was in Yates Hall. My freshman dorm was so boring." One of the women asked you a question that you knew that you couldn't answer without getting caught, but you were quick on your feet. "Oh my god, wait.. wait.." You giggled and grabbed the arm of one of the women in front of you. "I LOVE this song... Do you guys want to dance?"

You knew that the women wanted to get away from Rob. He hadn't blown his cover but he was terrible with women, and generally came off as too strong due to his eagerness and intimidating size. The women all agreed and began skipping and stumbling to the dance floor. "See you later Will." You grinned back at your friend. You danced with you new group of girlfriends to Bruno Mars' "Uptown Funk".

Mitch had finally shaken the two women from earlier and was talking to a group of guys about finance and the economy. He had fully convinced them all that he was in their business fraternity with them and was networking with one of them about trying to get the guy a job that didn't actually exist at Morgan Stanley with Mitch. Mitch caught a glimpse of you shaking and gyrating on the dance floor and suddenly found himself unable to look away. He watched as you dropped to the floor, your legs looking long and sleek in your tall boots, and your body looking tight as you shimmied your way back up. He was mesmerized by the way your face lit up with a genuine smile as you danced to a song that you clearly, actually liked. He was taken aback at how sexy you were and how hard he was finding it to focus on his conversation. Mitch was snapped back to reality when one of the men patted Mitch on the shoulder and invited him to their pick-up football game on campus the following afternoon. Mitch agreed and exchanged fake information, then excused himself to get another drink, glancing back at the dance floor but no longer seeing you.

Mitch leaned against the bar, one leg on the stool and one foot touching the floor, and waited for the bartender to make his rounds. A woman leaned next to him and smiled. Mitch nodded politely and went back to waiting for the bartender.

"Hi, I'm Alicia." She stuck out her hand to shake Mitch's. "So who are you here with? I don't remember you from the class photo."

"Steven Greene." Mitch shook her hand. "I came alone tonight, just wanted to meet up with some old buddies from the business fraternity and get a free drink, you know?" Mitch put on his most charming and unassuming smile.

The woman blushed but persisted. "You were in the business school? I just... I don't know, I don't mean to be forward, but you are so handsome, I really feel like I would've remembered you. What dorm did you live in Freshman year?" She asked.

"Yates. What about you?"

"I lived in Yates too. I... I am stunned, I really don't remember y-"

"Hey babe, I was looking for you everywhere." You cut the woman off mid-sentence, hooked your arm around Mitch's and pressed your body against his. Mitch felt a surge of energy rush through his body as you leaned against him. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I sent him over here forever ago for our drinks." You leaned over the bar and Mitch's lap and caught your old bartender friend's attention. You felt Mitch’s hand slowly and hesitantly slide across your back, and suddenly you felt weak. You exhaled, trying to focus on your words. "Hi, can I get a champagne, a whiskey neat, and whatever she's having." You flashed your most dazzling smile at the woman.

"A Chardonnay please." Alicia told the bartender. "Thank you, I couldn't get a drink in to save my life." She nodded at you.

"I'm sorry, I'm being so rude. My name is Maggie Sheffield, I didn't catch yours."

"Alicia Hardwick." The woman shook your hand. "I was just talking to Steven here about how we both lived in the same dorm Freshman year, but I don't quite remember him." The woman sounded suspicious.

"Oh my god, you lived in Yates Hall too? Ugh, I really love that building. It's where Steven and I first met. Oh my god, it was the cutest story, wasn't it, S?" You looked up at him and Mitch nodded. The bartender brought your drinks over and Mitch handed them to you and Alicia. "Thanks, babe. So anyway, isn't this funny? I was literally just talking to my friend over there. Rosemary? She's dancing with Katie Myers, Lindsay Orly and Jen Smith?" You pointed to the group of women that you had been chatting and dancing with, and the suspicious Alicia craned her neck to see.

"Oh, I think I remember Rosemary, she lived on the second floor, right?" Alicia tested you.

"Actually, I think it was the third floor. Right, babe?" You looked up at Mitch, and he nodded. You leaned back against Mitch's chest, and he wrapped an arm around you, as you continued trying to convince this woman that Mitch had lived in her Freshman dorm. "Anyway, Rosemary and I were talking about the night when Steve and I met. I was in Rosemary's room borrowing notes for a class, and Steven and her were friendly and he popped his head in to borrow something from her."

"Toothpaste...." Mitch added, trying to help you out from doing all of the heavy lifting.

"Yea..." You smiled up at Mitch and snuggled hard against him. Mitch's breath hitched in the back of his throat, and his hand involuntarily squeezed at your hip harder. Your heart raced at the intimate touching. "Anyway, it was late and Rosemary introduced Steve and I, and Steve was like, 'it's not safe to walk back to your dorm alone this time of night.'" You made a mocking voice. "Even though I just lived over in the Green and Gold Village." You laughed. "But I thought he was cute, a little chubbier back then, but god we all had some baby fat still, am I right?" You laughed and lightly tapped Alicia on the shoulder. "So anyway, he walked me back to my dorm, and nine years later, we're still together." You smiled up at Mitch, then looked back at Alicia. "I'm so sorry, you didn't even remotely want to hear that story, it's just fun getting to tell it to people we went to school with who get how silly it was that Steve was trying to convince me that it was unsafe to walk from Yates to Green and Gold at 11 on a Tuesday night."

"No, no... I'm sorry. I was giving Steve the third degree before because I didn't remember him. We had some party crashers thrown out earlier and I thought he was a straggler because I didn't remember him, but I think I actually remember seeing you two hanging out together in the Yates common room now. I'm just being an alarmist. I feel awful. I'm so sorry, Steve." Alicia apologized profusely.

"It's totally fine. I get it. It's hard to remember everyone from our class. I mean, 2,000 doesn't seem that big in theory, but throw a few new beards, a few extra pounds and five years, and it’s hard to remember anyone." Mitch told her, taking a sip from his whiskey. He was in the clear because of you.

Mitch had knocked on your door, but no one answered. He couldn't get the image of you dancing in that tight cream colored dress out of his head, so he went down to the hotel lounge for a drink. He spotted you curled up on a couch in the corner of the lounge, light and dreamy piano music playing for the late night crowd in the background.

You had a piece of chocolate cake on the arm of the sofa, a fork in hand, a half drunk glass of champagne on the table next to you, and Lord of the Flies folded up in front of your face. You were wearing a blue and red, oversized flannel shirt, black leggings and your moccasins sat on the floor, as your bare feet were tucked underneath you. Mitch ordered a whiskey neat and sat down on the loveseat next to you.

You grinned when you saw him sit. Mitch still had his well-fitted navy blue dress pants on with a crisp white shirt still perfectly tucked in, and unbuttoned neatly by the collar, his mahogany wingtips still perfectly polished and clean. "Well, hey there, Steven Greene. Fancy seeing you here." You said, placing your book and fork down and picking your drink up to your still perfectly done lips. Your hair still cascaded with natural looking curls and your eyeliner was still in place without a smudge.

“I think Y/N suits you better than Maggie.” Mitch said as he settled in next to you.

“Just like Mitch suits you.” You took a sip of champagne and felt the bubbles lightly popping as they went down your throat.

You watched as Mitch pressed the clear glass tumbler to his lips and sipped his nightcap. "I can’t believe you didn’t laugh when that guy said Beowulf."

"Oh, I can’t believe I didn’t either. What an idiot."

"Yea, you definitely shouldn’t talk to anyone that doesn’t appreciate good literature." Mitch commented, the alcohol made him much looser than he normally was.

You smiled, and turned more of your body towards him.. your knee touching his leg, and neither of you moving away. "Then I think I’d only be able to talk to you.."

"That’s fine with me.." Mitch was cut off from the guy that hit on you earlier in the night.

"Maggie.. hey, I've been looking for you all night. It's Brian, from earlier. You know, I can ask the old guy to play something a little bit more upbeat since you still owe me that dance." The man slurred his speech as he ignored Mitch's presence. Brian's friends looked on from the bar, shaking their heads. A few of the other recruits who were also at the bar watched and waited to see what Mitch would do.

"Hey man, I'm Steve, and I think you should probably get some water... hit the hay." Mitch interjected.

"I'm not talking to you, bro. I'm talking to Maggie."

Mitch stood up. "I'd prefer if you didn't since Maggie is my fiancee." You quickly grabbed Mitch's arm with your left hand, obstructing the view of your bare ring finger.

"Steve, sit down, it's okay." You fake begged him.

"Nah, bro, why don't you come tell me to get lost to my face!" The man was belligerent, but Mitch leaned forward anyway. He was feeling suddenly very territorial. You could easily tell that Mitch was ripped through his tight, white shirt and his stature was looming in comparison. Brian's friends came to quickly collect their drunk friend, apologized and dragged him upstairs.

"Oh Steve, thank god for you. I would've hated having to sleep with that guy just to keep my cover in tact." Mitch narrowed his eyes at you, he could hear the sarcasm in your voice. He chuckled and shook his head, sitting back down next to you, and picking his drink back up to take another sip.

"You really saved my ass earlier."

"Actually, Maggie saved your ass." You joked.

Mitch frowned. "Don't undersell yourself. I was watching you all night. You even had me convinced at times that you actually did graduate with those people." Your heart skipped a beat when you heard Mitch say that he had been watching you all night.

“All night?” You questioned, coyly. You had caught him watching you dance earlier that evening and while tipsy, decided to put on a bit of a show for him. You were pleased that he had noticed.

“All night... and you were good at this.” Mitch reminded you of what he was talking about.

"Thanks.. it's not a big deal though, honestly. It's really just getting your foot in the door and getting them talking. People love to spill their life stories to anyone who will really listen at these sorts of things."

"I'll remember that for next time." Mitch told you. "So where'd you come up with your alias?"

"Maggie was the name of my dog growing up, and the rest of the story is literally just my cousin Francine Sheffield, she's from Portland, we kind of look alike, she has an interesting enough backstory but is still far enough away that..." You shrugged your hands. Mitch understood. "Who's Steven Greene, millionaire financial genius?" You asked.

"My brother."

You looked surprised. "I didn't know you had a brother.. with a different last name then you?"

Mitch laughed, the whiskey really loosening him up. "Well my brother is Steven, and he is doing really well for himself on Wall Street, but the Greene part is just cause Steve loved Rachel Green from Friends growing up, and I don't know, it was just one of those things that I thought of when I was trying to find a good fake last name."

"Do you miss your family?" You asked, leaning closer to hear him over the piano music. You rested your head on the back of the couch, close enough to him that if he bent down, he could feel if your lips were as soft and pillowy as they looked. He had to fight the drunken impulse not to.

He thought about telling you a lie about his family, as not to ruin the mood, but decided he didn't want to lie to you. "I do miss my brother. He's a great guy, and I haven’t seen him in well over a year. But, umm..." Mitch pursed his lips. "My parents died in a car crash when I was fourteen. So I guess I miss them too." He chuckled once to himself, clearly uncomfortable with admitting the truth.

Your heart sunk. You pressed your hand against Mitch's knee and rubbed it. "I'm so sorry, that's devastating..." Mitch shrugged. He was distracted by your touch. "I guess that explains the boarding schools then."

A smile curled in the corner of his mouth. "You really do listen to people when they talk."

You decided to use the alcohol in your system as an excuse to be brazen. "Well, I listen to you at least.... I like talking to you. It's easy and you're interesting."

Mitch downed the rest of his drink, catching the bartender's attention and signaling for another round. He turned back to you, running his long fingers over the back of your hand. "I like talking to you."

His words sent shivers down your spine and you blushed. “Mitch, I..”

The bartender brought over your fresh drinks and interrupted your moment. Mitch looked up at the bartender and then at you, and snapped back to reality. This wasn't a vacation, it wasn't a chance to connect with someone else. This was training to get revenge for Katrina. Mitch downed his drink and stood up.

"I'm gonna turn in. Can I walk you up?" He asked, fidgeting with the watch on his wrist.

You nodded, downed your own drink, slipped your shoes on your feet, grabbed your book and followed him to the elevator bank in the lobby. You both turned as you heard a large group come in from the hotel ballroom, the reunion still raging on. One of the women that had flirted with Mitch earlier saw him as the group walked towards the elevators.

"Oh my god, Steve! Steve! I’m so happy you’re here. We're all heading up to the pool, you should come!" She drunkenly slurred as Mitch, you, the woman, and her group piled into the elevator.

"I'm good." Mitch told her, not looking up, but instead staring down in your Y/E/C eyes. You got pressed up against Mitch as the group shoved themselves into the elevator. He wrapped his arms protectively around you again, like he had earlier that night, but better because he could see your face this time. He stared at the small freckles on your nose and cheeks and your long eyelashes. "Excuse us." Mitch said as the elevator stopped on the recruit’s floor, and he guided you out, his hand resting against the small of your back. He walked down the hall with you, his hand still pressed against your body, until you both made it to your door.

He watched as you dipped the keycard into your door and the green light flashed indicating it was unlocked. You turned the handle and pushed it open slightly. You then turned and looked up at him. "Do you want to come in?" You whispered.

Mitch nodded, his heart racing fast as he accepted your invitation. The alcohol was dampening his guilt, and he couldn't deny how much he wanted you and wanted to not leave you. As he stepped into your room, he heard a latch click on the door next to yours and saw Rob and Julian walk out of their room. "Hey Mitch! Want to come down to the bar with Julian and I?" Rob bellowed.

"Dude..." Julian elbowed Rob. He understood that that wasn't Mitch's room and that it was late.

"What?" Rob was oblivious.

Mitch looked down at you. This wasn't right. Neither of you were sober. His face became pensive. He took his hand off of your waist and placed it in his pocket. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight." You said, your face faltering from the rejection, as you closed your door.

"Nah, man. I was just walking Y/N back from down there. I'm gonna go head back to my room and go to bed." Mitch told the two men.

Mitch dipped his keycard into the lock on his door and heard it click. He turned the handle and paused. He thought about going back to your room and seeing you. He shook his head. "Just go to bed, Mitch." He muttered to himself as he closed the door behind him.

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #american assassin #american assassin au #the recruit aa #the recruit #dylan o'brien #stiles #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #fan fiction #thomas edison #the maze runner

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