a cleat on dock

The Recruit (Chapter 31) - Mitch Rapp

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “Day 106, Part III”

Characters: Mitch Rapp, Stan Hurley, Irene Kennedy & Reader/OFC

Author’s Notes: This is obviously the end of my trailer chapters. I hope you all enjoyed how I decided to tell this part of the story. I know it was not in tandem with how American Assassin actually goes, but I loved writing it and I hope you loved reading it. Thanks so much :) 

Summary: Mitch pursues the nuclear bomb headed for Rome’s international airport and the U.S. Naval fleet, in an effort to stave off absolute disaster.

Chapter Thirty - Chapter Thirty-One - Chapter Thirty-Two

Originally posted by dylanobrien

“Y/n…. Y/F/N!”

The ringing in your ears subsided when you heard Mitch screaming your name. You felt like you were being pulled back into your body in that moment; as if for the previous few moments, you had been floating above yourself, simply watching the whole scene take place like an uninvolved bystander. You stared at the blood running into the crevices between the stones on the ground and then at the lifeless body that it was pouring out of.

“Y/n/n. Look at me.” Mitch said in a calmer tone and you brought your gaze up to him.

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The Art of Remembering (6/?)

Summary: Killian hasn’t seen Emma in months, not since she ran off in the middle of the night. But when he receives a call from the hospital informing him that she’s been in an accident he rushes to be by her side. Nervous and anxious to see her again he’s not sure what to expect—but he definitely doesn’t anticipate that upon waking she would have no idea who he is. Modern au

Word Count: ~3,500

Rating: T

Also on: ff.net, ao3 

Catch up: first chapter, previous chapter

a/n: So from this point on any sections completely in italics are Emma’s memories. Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!


Emma sighs as she looks out at the water. She’s only been in Boston for a little over a month but this spot has quickly become one of her favorites. She loves how calming it is, how quiet it is compared to the rest of the city. She loves how it’s a place where she can come and think—or not think—depending on what she needs for the day.

Closing her eyes she smiles as the salty breeze blows against her and lifts a bit of her hair. She inhales deeply, letting the ocean air waft through her and cleanse away the stresses of her day.

She hasn’t been in Boston long, but she’s already starting to fall in love with the quieter parts of the city. And though she’s never been one to stay in one place for too long, the peacefulness of the harbor might convince her to change her ways and stay a little longer than is typical for her.

She’s always been restless. It’s part of why she left New York. She’d started to feel that insistent sensation that always seems to creep up on her after a while. The need for change is always waiting to surface and disrupt things before she can really settle anywhere.  The longest she’s stayed in one place is two years, and the memories that accompany that place are not ones she likes to relive.

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anonymous asked:

Tomw is my 17th birthday and i was wondering if u could pretty please with a cherry on top write some pirate!percy and annabeth fic, possible kissing???? (i always picture them kissing when they are fighting at each other, not sure why tho)Love ur writing btw!!!!!!!!

The dock they sit on is summer-warm and solid, the churning water underneath their dangling feet less so. Annabeth stares out at the storm clouds brewing at the horizon and the blurring stretch of stars peeking through and leans into Jackson’s arm. It’s a nice night for this. Sitting here with him. Drinking. Reminiscing. He takes a long pull of rum, wipes his mouth on his sleeve, and presses the bottle into her hand.

“We’ve come a long way,” Annabeth admits, taking a sip that brushes hot against her chest. She thinks, briefly, longingly, of the shining crystal decanter that used to sit on her father’s desk before she presses the bottle back into Jackson’s hands. A very long way.

He smiles at her sidelong.

“And before we leave port, I wanted to thank you.”

“Hm?”

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Sandra had practically been born on a boat. Her dad was a fisherman, her mother ran a small seafood restaurant just off the beach. Swimming, surfing, sailing - these things were encoded deep in her genes. She could tie a boat onto a cleat on the dock practically before she could tie her shoes. It was no surprise to anyone when she started taking up some more extreme activities. Adventure sailing. Triathlons. Long-distance solo rowing. 

It was after one such event - who could keep them straight, after awhile - that she met Ian. He was young, well-built, the kind of guy who looked like he was never more than a mile from the coast. They talked for a while - she was a stronger swimmer than he was, while he was more knowledgeable about sailing - and they swapped some tips. Ian let her borrow a few DVDs about training for distance sailing, and told her he thought they might help her out. She took them, grateful. Sandra wasn’t much of a competitor - she was less interested in winning any particular event than she was with just the idea of challenging herself, pushing herself to accomplish something new - but even still, there would be useful information, and she could use them to improve herself.

She watched the first part of the series that evening. It was a bit over her head - it assumed a level of technical ability that she, being mostly self-taught, didn’t really have. She watched it again to try and better understand it. Then again, and again.

The second part was even more confusing. After the first viewing Sandra felt even less knowledgeable than she had at the start. She grabbed a notebook and a pen, determined to make some sense of this.

Three viewings later, and she was no closer. The guy who demonstrated the techniques was so distracting! He had this shaggy, sort of curly blond hair, and his forearms were all tan and muscular. He’d reach over, doing some complicated knot, and she’d totally tune out the voiceover explaining what he was doing.

Eventually she decided to just skip ahead to number three. This one was even worse. The guy had his shirt off half the time! And there were all these gorgeous girls on the deck, sunbathing. They looked like models. They were absolutely stunning. Expensive jewelry, designer bikinis, hair and nails all done perfectly… they were the absolute picture of rich trophy wives. The sort of women Sandra ignored or sneered at when she saw them sashaying around the marina. Now, though, she couldn’t take her eyes off of them.

If video four had a voiceover, Sandra didn’t notice it. All she saw were long, lingering shots of those women. Closeups on their hair, their clothes, their heels. She studied the way they walked, how they carried themselves. The way they moved. How they just radiated sexuality and beauty and calm, confident grace. She’d never seen anything like them. They were the epitome of femininity. She wanted to be just like them.

Months later, Sandra sometimes still saw Ian around the marina. She didn’t pay him that much mind. He seemed angry at first - when she returned his DVDs, he seemed to think she’d want to go out with him, but she turned him down. He wasn’t what she was looking for.

She sold her boat soon after that, and used the money to finance a complete overhaul. Makeup, spa treatments, makeovers, new wardrobe… a new her. She spent her days sunbathing on the beach near the marina. Before long, she caught Garret’s eye.

He was a multimillionaire. She didn’t know what it was he did for a living, and didn’t much care. He could provide her the kind of life she now knew she deserved. He was married, but was happy to keep her dressed in the finest clothes and take her out on her yacht for the occasional day of debauchery.

As she walked from the yacht to the new car Garret had bought her, she smiled to herself. Her only regret was not becoming a rich man’s trophy mistress sooner. It really was the perfect life for her.

(Somebody asked for stories where the guy doing the brainwashing doesn’t get the girl in the end. Hope this worked for you!)