#mitch week

“Hello gentlemen. I’m Y/N and I’ll be your waitress. Can I start you guys with something to drink?” I asked, glancing between both of them. The younger guy gave me a hesitant smile as the other’s facial expression stayed blank.

 “We’re not here to buy anything,” The older man bluntly said, pushing the menus back into my arms and I frown, feeling embarrassed. I nod my head, about to walk away, when a voice speaks out.

 “Actually,” A deep voice rang out, making me turn around, the younger guy continues, “Can I get a coffee, black, two sugars?” He smiled, my heart melting as I wrote it down.

 “Of course, sir,” I muttered, giving him a shy smile, walking back into the café and releasing a breath of relief. I totally thought I’d screw that up somehow. I bit my lip, walking behind the counter as I begin making a cup of coffee for the mysterious man.

 I brought the coffee out, hearing the older man ask the cute one a question. “What do you think we do here?” I stayed hidden, eavesdropping, trying to stay as quiet as I could.

 “Kill people who need to be killed,” He said and my mouth dropped, my hands nervously shaking as I’m afraid to even go back out there but I do it anyway. There’s a fake smile on my lips as I place the coffee in front of him, going to leave when the older guy stops me.

 “You know, eavesdropping could get you killed here,” He mentioned, his eyes glancing up towards me and my face pales, looking around the area.

 “I-I’m sorry. I really am. P-Please, I’m not even from here. My parents sent me here to learn about the culture,” I nervously rant, tears threatening to spill as I kept my head down, feeling both of their eyes on me.

 “Hurley, give the girl a break,” The younger guy sighed, shaking his head as Hurley glared at him, scoffing while crossing his arms.

 “First mistake, rookie. She could be working with the enemy for all we know. Shouldn’t let personal feelings into the fray of your missions, Mitch,” Hurley told him, cuffing my hand to the metal fence and I let out a surprise squeak.

 “Personal feelings? It’s not even that, Stan. She’s just trying to make a living while she’s here. You can’t just leave her here, cuffed to the metal fence,” Mitch glared and when Hurley was about to say something, gunshots went off, making me jump as the other two looked around, on alert. The shooting continued, getting closer to the café as people began to run, screaming for their lives. They both got up, getting ready to leave as my eyes widened. Are they seriously going to leave me cuffed to the table?

 “You’re seriously going to leave me here? I’ll die!” I panicked, pulling my wrist, trying to desperately get the cuff off of my hand. Hurley kept running as Mitch stopped in his tracks, looking back at me as tears streamed down my face. “P-Please. I-I won’t say anything about what you do. I-I just don’t want to die,” I sobbed, falling to the ground my wrist bleeding from the cuff cutting my skin.

 Mitch ran over to me, looking out for the people with guns as he took a lock pick, unlocking the cuff and freeing my hand. I scrambled off the ground, wrapping him in a hug, sobbing as he rubbed his hand up and down my back, looking towards the road. A guy with an AK made his way towards the small café and shot as us. I screamed as Mitch flipped the table in front of us, saving me and himself from getting shot. “Hey, it’s alright. C’mon. We need to get out of here,” He muttered, intertwining our fingers as he lead me away from the area. We walked into an empty apartment as Mitch went into another room as I walked around, glancing out the window. “Get away from the window!” Mitch yelled, pushing me out of sight, against the wall next to the window. My breathing became heavier, feeling the heat radiating off of Mitch’s body as he glanced outside.

 “I-Is anyone out there?” I asked quietly, my heart pounding against my chest. He glanced at me, seeing the look of fear on my face. He frowned, shaking his head and I let out a sigh of relief, resting my head on the wall. “I'm sorry. I really am. I’m so, so sorry,” I whispered, glancing up at Mitch, his face emotionless as he stared down at me, getting a little intimidated by his gaze. I was caught in his trance, my lips parted slightly as his hands rested on either side of my body, against the wall when Stan’s voice snapped us out of our moment, if you could call it that.

 “Mitch,” His stern voice echoing through the room, both of us looking at him as Stan’s arms are crossed, a scowl on his face. “You know that she’s your responsibility now. They saw her with you, so they’re going to want her to get to us,” Mitch glanced back at me, my eyes widened, scared for my life that something’s going to happen to me. I begin to breath heavily, my heartbeat pounding against my ribcage. I glance down at my hands as they begin to shake, knowing that I’m on the verge of having a panic attack when Mitch noticed.

 “Hey, look at me,” he started, taking my face in his hands as my eyes glanced up towards him, feeling his thumbs rub against my cheeks. My breaths became heavier, becoming more nervous that his hands are on my face. “Look at me, Y/N. Just breathe, okay? In through the nose, out the mouth,” he whispered, Stan standing a few meters away, looking really intimidating still, not helping my case. Mitch’s fingers took hold of my chin, making me look at him. “Keep your eyes on me,” Mitch stated and I nodded, looking into his eyes, feeling the beat of my heart calm down a bit.

 “I’m a liability,” I whispered, looking down at my feet and I get out of his grip, walking into one of the bedrooms, locking the door behind me. I leaned my forehead against it, letting out a heavy sigh. I could hear the both of them talking on the other side, Mitch yelling at Stan for leaving me there in the middle of a gunfight, unable to protect myself. I curled up into a ball on the bed, taking my lip between my teeth as I shiver, falling asleep quickly.

 I woke up, my head pounding as I try to press my palms against it, but feel restricted. My eyes fluttered open, noticing that I’m in a warehouse, tied down to a chair. I struggled against the restraints, hissing when the rope cuts into my skin slightly. I looked around, finding no one around me and I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what the hell is going on. Where’s Mitch? A door opened, making me jump slightly as it heavily shut, creating a loud noise. I looked towards the sound, seeing a rugged looking man walking towards me, narrowing his eyes at me.

 “Ah, you’re finally awake.” The man wickedly smiled, walking around me. “I’m really surprised that they didn’t keep their eyes on you. You seemed quite valuable to the “new me.” So, why don’t you tell me what you know about their plans and I might spare your life,” He threatened and my heart skip a beat, a little scared.

 “I-I don’t know anything, I swear. T-They didn’t talk about any plans while I was there. Stan wasn’t very fond of Mitch saving my life so he didn’t want to risk leaking any information,” I stated, looking up at the man, his face blank as the back of my eyes sting a little. He whipped the back of his hand across from my face, letting of a cry, my face throbbing with pain.

 “Don’t lie to me, bitch,” He said sternly, crouching in front of me as he took out a pocket knife, running the blade against my soft skin. “Now, tell me or I’m going to do something you’re not going to like.”

 “I’m telling you the truth! P-Please, you have to believe me,” I cried, tears pooling in my eyes, my vision getting blurry. “T-They don’t even care about me. I-I won’t tell anyone about you, please let me go.” A sob escapes from my throat, closing my eyes for a minute as it was silent around me, the knife on my leg disappearing before an extreme pain flowed throughout my leg. I screamed, looking down at the knife that’s now sticking out of my thigh. The guy huffed, walking away from me as I try to think of something that’ll distract me from the pain, but nothing works.

 About an hour later, the same guy, who I learned to be Ghost, came back to try again, but how can I tell someone something when I don’t even know anything? He’s beaten me a few times, my nose bloody and my left eye is swollen, going in and out of consciousness. Ghost was about to hit me again when gunshots were heard outside of the secluded room he’d brought me too. “Fuck,” He muttered, grabbing his gun as he pointed it to my head, letting out a small cry as I felt the barrel of his gun pressed against my temple. Mitch had kicked the door open, pointing his gun at Ghost, his eyes scanning over me, a frown on his gorgeous face.

 “Mitch!” I called out, Ghost hitting the butt of his gun against my temple as I let out a groan, becoming a little disorientated. Mitch’s eyes had hardened, pointing his gun at Ghost.

 “Let her go. She’s got nothing to do with this,” He demanded and Ghost just chuckled, gripping my hair in his hands, pulling my head back.

 “Oh, but she does. You may not know it yet, but you have a soft spot for her. You might barely know her, but she’s gotta mean something for you to save her at the cafe, when you could’ve just let her die,” He started, glaring at Mitch, running his lips against the shell of my ear. I let out a small cry, squeezing my eyes shut.

 “GET AWAY FROM HER!” Mitch yelled, cocking his gun, pointing it at his head.

 “Look at him, getting all defensive for you. Who knew that someone of his abilities could fall for a girl so easily, especially when they don’t even know them,” he smirked, whispering into my ear, keeping his eyes on Mitch. “Now, both of us are leaving and if I find out that you follow us before we get away from here, I’ll kill her,” Ghost growled, wrapping his arm around my neck, leading me out of the room as Mitch stayed in his spot, a sad look in his eyes. I thrash against his grip, letting out a little scream when I heard him cock his gun. “Don’t make me kill you, cause I won’t hesitate,” He growled into my ear, dragging me out of the warehouse, a lot of gunshots blaring as we leave.

 “Mitch,” I whispered, tears sliding down my cheeks as Ghost pushed me onto the boat, tying my arms behind my back before throwing me to the ground. He drives off, my eyes gazing at the warehouse that’s getting smaller in the distance, sniffling a bit. I guess this is it. There was a helicopter flying towards us, swallowing the lump in my throat as I layed against the built in couch, feeling weak, my leg still bleeding a bit from when he stabbed me in the thigh.

 “This kid just doesn’t die,” Ghost muttered as someone jumped onto the boat, immediately beginning to attack him and I curl into a ball, letting out a few sobs. I glanced at the two men fighting, my breath hitching as one of them turned out to be Mitch. Holy hell, he looks really good when he’s bloody. Ghost had kicked him off, quickly getting his gun before pointing it at me, Mitch stopping in his tracks. “You just don’t listen, do you?” He narrowed his eyes at Mitch before turning to me, ready to pull the trigger. Just as the gun was about to go off, killing me, Mitch attacks him from behind, the bullet ejected from his gun, hitting me in the same leg that was stabbed. I cried out, looking down at my leg, noticing the bullet hole, the pain level going through the roof.

 Ghost threw Mitch onto the space next to me, attempting to get back up when he pulled out a gun, threatening Mitch’s life, wishing that I could help rather than doing nothing. Ghost smirked, ready to pull the trigger before a different gunshot was heard, Ghost falling to the floor, blood seeping from his head as both Mitch and I looked up, seeing the same helicopter I saw earlier, Stan leaning out of it with a sniper, giving Mitch a nod. Mitch cut the rope bounding my hands and I wrap my arms around his neck, sobbing as his hand rubbed against the small of my back, letting out a sigh. “You’re okay. I’ve got you,” He whispered, Stan letting down a rope for us to hold onto.

 “I-I honestly didn’t think you’d guys come for me,” I muttered, tightly holding onto him as the helicopter pulled us up. He looked down at me, his arm tightly wrapped around my waist, my body pressed against his.

 “Stan didn’t want to, but I couldn’t just leave you to die.” I smiled at him, nuzzling my head into his neck as Stan pulled us both in, still clinging onto Mitch.

 A few days after that whole incident, Mitch kept me by his side, making me quit my job at the café. We were placed in a hotel room, both of us in one room while Stan occupied the other one. I woke up to the sound of the shower, my eyes fluttering open as the sun shined through the windows. I haven’t really left the bed since I was shot and stabbed in the same leg that the doctor told me to rest for a few days. Mitch being Mitch, wouldn’t let me do anything and he would make my food for me. Which I didn’t mind at all. I sat up, resting my back against the wall as the shower turned off, Mitch walking out of the room in just a towel. My face began heating up, not being able to take my eyes off of him as my cheeks flushed.

 “Morning, Y/N,” Mitch smiled, noticing that I’m awake, walking over to me. “How are you feeling?” He questioned and I swallowed visibly, losing my voice as I tried desperately not to stare at his chiseled body.

 “U-Um, g-good,” I stuttered, looking away from him as he chuckled, walking towards his suitcase, getting dressed quickly. “You know, I can’t thank you enough, Mitch,” I whispered, my gaze on his back as he glanced back at me, giving me a small smile as he tugged a shirt over his head. He sat on the bed next to me, taking one of my hands in his, intertwining our fingers.

 “Ghost was right,” Mitch muttered, my eyebrows furrowing together, confused on what he’s talking about. “You do mean something to me, even though we barely know each other. That day in the café, I saw you walk into it when you first got there and you honestly took my breath away,” He whispered, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb as my eyes widened.

 “Mitch,” I started, lifting his chin up, so he’s looking at me. “You took my breath away as well. I mean, you’re incredibly handsome, and I’m really glad that you risked your life to save mine. I’m forever in your debt.” I smiled, leaning towards him, pressing my lips to his cheek. I leaned back against the wall, a grin on my lips as he stared at me, his eyes roaming my face before leaning forward, pushing his lips against mine. I let out a surprised squeal before my eyes flutter shut, moving my lips against his. I run a hand through his chocolate brown hair, pulling him a little closer to me. He pulled away a little too quickly, a small whine escaping my lips.

 “Just stay by my side, alright?” Mitch asked, smiling and I nodded my head, taking my lip between my teeth, giving him a chaste kiss to the lips before attempting to get up. “Where are you going?” He questioned, a look of worry on his face as I looked back at him.

 “Well, I was going to shower, I planned on asking you, but you already took one,” I smirked and his lips parted, his eyes roaming my body. “But, I’ll definitely call you if I need help,” I winked, walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind me, smiling like a lovesick fool.

Mitch stirred in his sleep, his eyes cracking open to the faint light in the room. The clock on his table read 1:22 AM, and Mitch groaned to himself. Normally when he returned from missions, he slept peacefully for days, able to relax since he was free from danger, even for a little while.

So why was he awake now?

Not even a day of being back, and he was waking up in the middle of the night to a dimly lit bedroom. He rolled over in the bed, the blankets falling off his bare chest slightly. You set next to him in the bed, back against the pillows propped up on the headboard. You had tied back your hair, keeping your book pressed into your lap as your read silently.

You felt his arms wrap around your waist, looking down at his drowsy face. You smiled slightly at the look at his face, running a hand through his soft chocolate locks. “What are you doing awake, Mitch? Aren’t you tired from your mission still?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice husky from sleep. He burrowed his face into your stomach, the fabric from your tank top being pushed up slightly. His scruffy chin scratched at your skin, causing you to giggle slightly. “The real question is why are you still awake at almost two AM? Don’t you have work in the morning?”

You smiled slightly at his thoughtfulness, thinking about your job. It was the reason you had met Mitch in the first place. You worked with Irene Kennedy, seeking out possible recruits for special operations in the CIA. You had helped her recruit Mitch when he was just twenty-two, barely a year older than yourself. You knew, from the moment you laid eyes on the man walking down the street, that he would go on to do great things. You just never thought it would turn out like this.

The first time he went out on a mission to Istanbul, you had not been able to sleep. You had watched the young man grow and train with Stan Hurley, your pseudo-dad since you were four years old, over the last year. Sure, you knew that Stan was a fantastic man, and an even better operative, but you feared what Mitch would do on his own.

In your late nights, you wandered the massive library in the Langley headquarters, fingers skimming the spines of the books you had read hundreds of times it felt like. Nothing piqued your interest, not a single book that you thought would keep you at bay until you knew what was going on with the male you had grown attached you without meaning to.

That was when you found a book that sat in your lap. It was a simple story about a young man that traveled around, doing dangerous things for a living. He always put his life at risk for the things he was passionate about, doing what he believed was right to better the world. He always seemed to find a way back to his wife and unborn child because they were his whole world. The plot reminded you of Mitch for some reason, maybe because Mitch was similar in desire to the protagonist, Tyler.

You read it in one sitting, the book giving you solace that Mitch would return unharmed. He returned two days later, relief filling your gut. He never expected to find you waiting at his apartment when he walked up, bag in hand. You were sitting outside his door, picking at the ends of the skirt you were wearing. He quirked an eyebrow at you, seeing the expression on your face ease when you saw him standing feet from you.

You launched yourself into his arms unexpectedly, his arms tightening around you unconsciously. You cried, relieved that he was safe, Mitch just holding you. He wasn’t sure why it comforted him, seeing as he barely had spoken with you since he was delivered to Hurley’s house at Lake Anna. He had seen you around, but thought it inappropriate to approach you. Now here you were, in his arms, a pit of happiness in his gut he hadn’t felt since his girlfriend was killed.

You switched to a desk job after that, hoping to keep an eye on the man you had grown attached to, having begun spending all your free time with. You had developed massive feelings for the assassin, the two of you tinkering with a more intimate relationship over time, mostly consisting of light kisses in the confines of his apartment. Irene figured out the reason you had requested the switch, understanding why you wished it, but she couldn’t compromise the integrity of the job because of your personal feelings. You were assigned to a different covert operative, far from the status of Mitch.

To say you were disappointed was an understatement. You cried at Mitch the night you found out, laying in his strong arms, his fingers rubbing your back to calm you. It hurt even more to know he was leaving on a mission the following morning, going to somewhere in Germany. He kissed your forehead, mumbling that everything would be ok and he would return soon. You looked up into his eyes, his whiskey brown orbs darting between yours and your lips. You leaned up, lips connecting with his gently, moving to straddle his waist. Things changed that night, but you knew it was a good change.

You sat in his apartment following that night, Mitch nearly demanding you move in while he was away. You hadn’t argued, but being around his place without him hurt. You somehow found the same book you read from his first mission, the words soothing your anxiety while he was away yet again. Every mission seemed to be the same, the book helping you keep calm while he was out risking his life.

That was why you sat reading it now. You were happy to have Mitch back in your arms, and he had actually returned sooner than anticipated. You hadn’t been able to finish reading the book, and you couldn’t put it down until it was finished. You couldn’t sleep anyway for some reason, so you had decided to lay in bed, Mitch’s warm body next to yours, while you read into the odd hours of the night.

You marked the spot in your book, closing in and leaving it on your lap. Your hand pushed his messy hair back, relishing in the soft feeling. He groaned slightly, hugging you tighter. “Yes, I have work in the morning. But I couldn’t sleep until I finished my book. I didn’t mean to wake you up with the light being on. I can head into the living room if you prefer.”

He shook his head vigorously, hearing you laugh as his scruff scraped against your stomach. “No. Don’t leave me. I’ve slept alone enough while I was away.” He sat up in the bed with you, your eyes trained on his bare, toned torso. He snatched the book off your lap, examining the worn pages. “This one again?”

You pouted, sticking your tongue out at him. “Yes, this one again. You got a problem with that?”

He shook his head, skimming through the pages carefully. “It’s not that I have a problem. Just an observation more than anything.” He paused, licking his lips slowly.

“Oh? You’re observing me now, Mr. Rapp?” You joked, taking the book back from his hands. He leaned over, kissing your cheek, resting his head on your shoulder. You smiled at the action, enjoying the softer side of Mitch Rapp that not many people got to see. He was always a hard ass around people, analyzing people without them knowing it. With you, he chose to push that aside and show the sweet side he buried inside himself when he decided he wanted this job.

You cracked the book open again, Mitch watching you continue the chapter you were on.  “I’m always observing you. You fascinate me.”

“Oh I do?” You laughed, your eyes never leaving your book. “What are you observing right now, big shot?”

“It’s simple really. You’re always reading that one book. There’s so many other books in the world, why that one?” he asked, feeling your body stiffen at his words. You closed the book calmly, staring at the cover. “Why is this one so special to you? You are always reading it when I come back.”

“It’s silly, Mitch. Don’t worry about it,” you mumbled, slightly embarrassed at the reason. He huffed, obviously unhappy with the answer. Rule number one about Mitch Rapp: he is a stubborn asshole and doesn’t take no for an answer. It was good in the field, but home life can be rough because he won’t let the smallest things go.

“I don’t like that answer. It can’t be that silly. Just tell me, baby,” he said, turning you more to face him. You blushed, trying to find the right words to convey your feelings about the book, and what to meant to you.

“I uh… I found it when you went to Istanbul. Before we started dating. I know I barely knew you, but you fascinated me from the moment I first saw you walk out of the gym In Syracuse. So, when you left on that mission, I was worried that something would happen. I found this in the library at headquarters and it kind of kept me at peace while you were away.”

“But why?” He asked, his eyes narrowing on you. “I’ve read it before, but I don’t really understand why you are so attached to it.”

You paused, your fingers running over the cover. “It reminds me of you. It helps me remember you, and gives me that tiny glimmer of hope I need sometimes that you will be home soon, in my arms.”

His features softened, nuzzling his face in your neck, his scruff scratching it gently. “Aw, babe. I didn’t know that. Is this book really that special to you?” You nodded, Mitch smiling. His lips met your cheek, peppering it with kisses. “I didn’t know you were such a sap like that.”

You jabbed his side playfully, glaring at him. “Don’t be mean. I will kick you out of bed and your fine ass can sleep on the couch.” He held his hands up in defense, a smirk on his face. “Oh no. You have that mischievous look on your face. What are you thinking, Mitch?”

He took the book from your lap, leaning over to place it on the side table. You just watched him closely, unsure what he was doing. He turned your body so you were facing him directly, his thumbs tracing against your cheeks. “Well, I was thinking about how I have a way to remember you while I am away. It kills me to be away from you, so I have developed a fool proof method to make sure you are always on my mind while I am off killing people.”

You giggled, leaning closer to him. Your lips skimmed his gently, his hot breath fanning over your face as he pants. “Oh yeah? And what method would that be? Please, explain it to me.”

“It’s that not easy to explain, baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. “But I can show you.”

He didn’t wait for a response, closing the gap between your lips, his head tilting so he could envelop your mouth completely. His hand trailed down your arm to your waist, pushing up the fabric of your tank top so he could grip at your skin. Your leg crossed over his lap from the side, allowing you to push yourself against him more. Your arms wrapped around his neck, enjoying the fast kisses he was placing to your lips.

His kissed turned rougher, his lips wrapping around your bottom lip, sucking at it occasionally. You groaned against his lips, loving the open-mouth kisses he was giving you. The room was silently besides the sounds of your kisses, your lips smacking against each other whenever he connected them and pulled away. His nose nuzzled against yours whenever he moved in to place another kiss to your lips, your lips becoming swollen from the constant contact.

His tongue darted out from his lips, bypassing yours without warning. The wet article met yours, massaging it between your cheeks. You moaned against him, feeling it rumble in your throat. Mitch grinned into the kiss, flicking his tongue against yours as an attempt to get it to play with him. You smiled back, your tongue beginning to battle his, though his won rather easily.

He laid you back on the bed, lips still attached to yours, straddling your hips quickly. His hips rolled against yours, his hard cock pressing through both your clothes into your pussy. He groaned, breaking the kiss, moving his lips down your check to your neck. Your moaned into his ear, shifting your own hips against him, the pressure between your groins building. Even through the thin pajama shorts you wore and the athletic shorts he wore for once to bed, you could feel every inch of his cock perfectly. It was twitching eagerly, trying to escape its confines to get to the place it wanted most: inside you.

He sucked at your neck, a noticeable hickey forming in the spot. You whined at him quietly, playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. His hips pressed into yours, moving against it quickly. It was the same motions he does when he is thrusting into you, and it was driving you crazy since your pussy was empty, void was any feeling besides the pressure outside of it. His cock poked at the entrance every time he rolled forward, but the fabric between them kept him from filling you completely.

You moaned loudly when he bit at the junction between your neck and shoulder, knowing it was one of the most sensitive spots you had and that it always turned you on more. He made you cum once just by kissing and biting at it, amazing at how sensitive the spot was for you. Your hips jerked up into him, Mitch groaning against your neck.

You pulled him from your neck, making him look at your face. “Mitch, enough teasing. I don’t want you to fuck me with my clothes on. I’d rather my clothes be off, thrown across the room like you normally do, with your cock buried so deep inside me that it will need Google Maps to find its way out.”

Mitch chuckled, pushing your shorts and panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. You kicked them off your ankles, the material falling to the floor at the end of the bed. Mitch kicked his own shorts and boxers off his legs, not caring where they ended up. His lips connected to yours in a heated kiss, his cock sliding into you quickly.

He thrust into you quickly, his lips never leaving yours. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, one of Mitch’s hands gripping your thigh tightly. His thick cock pulsed inside of you, twitching against your walls. The tip poked your g-spot every time he slid inside of you, sending shivers up your spine. You moaned against his lips, your body overly sensitive to his touch.

He tugged your bottom lip with his teeth, breaking the kiss slowly. His hips slammed against yours, his thrusts growing more powerful. You moaned loudly, your voice echoing around the bedroom, mixed with the loud slapping of skin. Mitch grunted, leaning back on his knees, his speed picking up even more. It was almost ungodly how fast he was moving, your legs tugging him closer. Mitch watched your breasts bounce happily with his thrusts, licking his lips at the delicious sight. The angle he thrust at sent waves of pleasure through your body, your body writhing, heavy pants falling from your lips. “Mitch, baby. I’m gonna…”

He nodded, reaching down to rub your clit. “Let it out baby. Just cum for daddy.” You mewled at his words, feeling him lean down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. He kissed the bud, tugging at it with his teeth and lips, tongue flicking the hard peak. His fingers rubbed vigorously at your clit, pinching the nub with the tips of his fingers. The knot inside you unraveled before you knew it, juices coating his cock while he thrust. Your back arched off the bed, your head digging into the pillows, toes curling in the blankets that were bunched up at your feet. Mitch sucked harder at your nipples for a second before he pulled away with a pop, his movements slowing to a taunting push, his cock sliding in and out of you slowly to prolong your orgasm.

He pulled out abruptly as your body began to relax, flipping you so you were on your hands and knees, ass pressed against his pelvis. His cock was still hard, covered in your juices, his precum dripping from the tip. He rubbed the tip through your folds, probing your entrance occasionally. You mewled into the pillows, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Please daddy. Fuck me more.”

Mitch groaned loudly, shoving his cock inside of you, rougher than normal with the action. You winced as he bottomed out, the force from his penetration surging through your bones. Mitch didn’t realize the slight pain you were in, digging himself deep into you with his hurried thrusts. His hand connected with your ass, your body vibrating from the slap, his cock slamming into you harder every time. Your ass was turning red from his constant smacks, one of his hands slightly pulling on the hair it threaded itself into.

You whimpered slightly, pain and pleasure flowing through your body. You were overwhelmed with the feelings, unsure if you were enjoying the feeling or not. When your whimper hit his ears, Mitch slowed down, pulling you up so your back pressed against his chest. He stilled inside of you, turning your head to lightly kiss your lips.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got excited when you called me daddy,” he mumbled against your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist. You relaxed into his chest, sighing deeply.

“You’re alright, babe. Just take it easy a bit. I want you to cum with me, not bruise me unintentionally,” you joked, a small smile forming on Mitch’s face. “I love you, Mitch.”

He didn’t reply, slowly beginning to thrust inside you again, the new angle causing him to hit your g-spot sharply, even at his gentle pace. You mewled happily, feeling his lips kissing at your neck. He sucked red marks from your shoulder to the juncture between your shoulder and neck, nipping at your tender spot.

His thrusts were growing stronger, your hands reaching forward to grasp the headboard of the bed to keep steady. His hands slit up your torso, beginning to caress your breasts with his fingers, tugging at the nipples simultaneously with his thrusts. His cock shoved deep into you, your walls contracting around him eagerly trying to holding him to you, desperate for another release. His face remained buried in your neck, hot pants hitting your skin. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, your moans mixing with it.

Mitch’s movements began to falter, his thrusts growing sloppy. You felt you were drawing close, knowing Mitch was as well. You nudged his cheek with yours, Mitch looking up at you. “Kiss me, Mitch,” you whispered, his lips on yours before you could finish your words. It was a gentle, loving kiss, but forceful, as if to tell you that you belonged to him and only him. His hands grabbed at your breasts tightly, his cock twitching sporadically against your walls.

In a single second, your vision spotted, unraveling in his arms. Mitch felt you shaking violently, your juices splattering your walls around him, soaking into his skin. He grunted against your lips, streams of hot, white cum shooting from his tip, mixing with yours. Your fingers scraped against the wooden headboard, your head falling back on his shoulder slightly, moaning loudly. Mitch slowed to a pleasant speed, riding out your shared highs.

He pulled out, carefully laying you back on the bed. He flopped next to you, his arm wrapping around your bare waist. You looked up at him, pecking his lips slowly. “Is this why you always want sex before you leave on a mission?” He nodded wordlessly, tightening his hold on you. You giggled, cuddling into him. “I’m not complaining. I like your way of remembering me. It makes me love you even more. I love you so much,” you mumbled through a yawn.

“No, not like that (Y/N), do it like this! That’s why you keep getting knocked down, because you’re not doing it properly!” I sighed as my back hit the blue mat once more. Mitch glowered as he stood over me, flicking his tongue over his lips. “We’ll have no more of that attitude, missy. Get up. Do it again.” I heaved myself up onto my feet and took up the stance that he’d taught me, watching every single twitch and hitch in his movement.

When I felt the time was right, I lunged forward to attack, but he intercepted it, catching my wrist and forcing me down onto the mat once more, grasping my wrist above my head as he took my second wrist and pinned me between his thighs. “If I were you in this position,” he said gruffly, “I’d figure out a way to gain back your advantage over me.” I took that advice, somehow managing to hook my leg around his right thigh and flip us both over so I was on top of him. My wrists were still caught in his hands, but at least it was a start.

“Now what do I do, sir?” I whispered, feeling his member growing underneath me. Fuck, it was such a turn-on knowing that I was getting him this way. I would always notice the way his eyes would rake over my body as we trained together, which is why I always wore a sports bra and shorts. Thinking about it now, he had probably jacked off to me at least once or twice, considering he always seemed to leave our sessions rock hard. I know I would certainly pleasure myself, just thinking about what he would be able to do to me with those hands, those long fingers, and the scruff by his mouth...fuck. I pressed my thighs together slightly, and he grunted.

“Fuck, (Y/N)...” he exhaled, removing his grip on my wrists and grabbing my face with one hand as the other moved down to grope my ass. He kissed me feverishly, kneading my ass and giving it a few smacks, causing my mouth to fall open slightly and his tongue to slip in easily. Surprisingly enough, he was actually pretty good, and knew how to get me going. I’d thought about this for a while, but never thought it would actually happen.

He moved his hand from my ass, tugging my shorts down and tracing a finger over my clothed clit. “You’re so wet, princess. Did I do this?” I nodded, and he glared at me. “Use your words.”

“Y-yes, Mitch, you did this to me,” I stuttered, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. “D-Daddy?” I mumbled, and he smirked.

“Better, princess. Fuck, let Daddy feel how wet you are,” he said, causing a hiss of pleasure to escape from my mouth as he padded his fingers over my clit and moved my panties out of the way to gain full access to that area. I groaned as he attacked it with his fingers, creating a come hither motion inside that hit all the right spots. I was coming closer and closer to my release when he pulled his fingers out, causing me to glare at him this time.

“What the fuck, Mitch?” I snarled, and he chuckled. 

“Princess, are you forgetting who’s in charge when we train?” 

“Not today,” I said, kissing him forcefully and taking him slightly by surprise as I began to kiss down his neck, leaving hickeys on his pale skin. I tugged at the base of his black, skin-tight shirt and he removed it, reconnecting our lips as if he couldn’t survive without the oxygen I was breathing. My fingers trailed down to his shorts, tugging them down and running my hands along the top of his member. His breathing hitched slightly as I smirked at him. “Someone’s a bit excited, huh?”

“Just suck it, (Y/N),” he growled, and I smiled, releasing it from its confines. Fuck, the guy did have a decent sized package on him. Just as I thought. I took his cock into my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks and taking him in as deep as I could. “Just like that, fuck,” he breathed, and I smiled again, looking up at him from where I was. His mouth fell open into an “o” shape and his eyes rolled back in his head. I could tell he was getting closer and closer, so I took my mouth away and smirked at him. “What the fuck was that for?”

“Remember, you didn’t let me cum, so why should I let you?” And with that, he pulled me back onto his lap and pushed himself into me, causing me to let out a yelp of pleasure.

“You wanna play rough, princess? Think you’re such a tough girl, huh? You don’t seem so tough when your tight, sweet little pussy is wrapped around Daddy’s cock. Not letting me focus when we train together, wearing those tight little shorts and those sports bras...Fuck, babygirl, this is what you do to me, leave me wanting this cute little cunt wrapped around my cock, every single training session.”

With every single word he said, he pounded into me harder and harder as I moaned loudly, almost pornographically. “D-Daddy, I’m close,” I said as he fucked me hard, gripping my hips tightly.

“Me too baby, cum for me. I want to feel you cum over my cock. Let it all go, babe,” he grunted as I went over the edge, him following not long after. We collapsed onto the mat in a sweaty heap, and he chuckled slightly. 

“What?” I looked at him, and he shook his head.

“You have no idea how long I’d been waiting to do that.”

“What, fuck me until I could barely walk?” I laughed, and he hummed in response. 

Mitch took a few long moments to decide what he wanted to say first. He had a million thoughts running through his head. He cleared his throat and looked off into blank space in front of him, pensively. 

"I have spent the past year and a half, since Katrina died, not seeking comfort in my brother or my friends.. no one.. I spent it hardening myself and giving into my rage and hatred and emptiness and wearing all of those things like armor so that I could get done what I needed to get done." 

You sat up, a sheet wrapped around your chest and body. You watched as he struggled to find the words. 

"I was going to marry Katrina. I loved her for years and then she was gone, and the only thing I had room left for in my heart was bitterness and indignation and revenge."

You brought your hand up to your mouth, pressing your fingers against your lips, and feeling yourself try to hide the fact that you were trembling.

"I still love Katrina." You felt like you were going to be sick. "And I, I didn't come here with the expectation of any of this happening... I have been struggling to get back to a normal place to be with you because I.... I don't want to give up on getting Mansour and the Bahi. I want to wipe them off the face of this planet, and I intend on doing it, but I'm realizing that I'm going to need something to look forward to and fight for after I've done what I came here to do... I want that something to be you." Mitch glanced at your face and felt his heart pounding in his chest.

"So you don't regret last night?" You had to ask first. It was all you could think about.

"No... do you?"

You shook your head. "No. I care about you, Mitch."

"Can you come back over here?" Mitch asked you.

You shook your head again. "No. You... I had no idea where that was.... I thought you were about to... you really got my adrenaline going and now I'm just shaky and clammy." You pressed your fingers against the palms of your hands and maintained your distance.

Mitch leaned forward and wrapped his hands around your blanket-covered ankles. His shaggy brown hair was matted in the back and his growing beard needed to be brushed as well. Despite his bedhead, you still thought he was the most handsome man you had ever seen. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just had to tell you where my head has been at. I have held a lot of guilt in myself lately over my feelings for you and how quickly they developed and how instantly drawn to you I was. It was why every time we got close, I pulled away. I thought you deserved an explanation if you were going to be with me."

"Be with you?" You asked.

Mitch nodded and placed his hand against your cheek. "Be with me." It was less of a question and more of a demand.

You nodded. "Then I'm yours."

Mitch smiled softly and closed his eyes. He ran his hand from your face to your knee, and pressed his head into your shins. He was relieved and fulfilled by your words. You were his. He exhaled loudly as he felt your hand running through his hair and massaging his scalp.

"How are we going to do this? It's not like you'll ever be able to take me to dinner, or if we get pulled onto different missions, or... We'll never be normal." You worried.

"Y/n, you're training to be a spy, did you just realize that your life will never be normal?" Mitch picked his head up and smirked at you.

"You know what I mean." You playfully glared at him.

Mitch chuckled, pushed your knees down and rested his head in your lap, wrapping his arm around your back. You went back to playing with his soft chocolate hair. "I get it. But, the plus side is that if I am on the Orion Team, and that's not actually a part of the CIA, then there is nothing that can stop us from being together."

You sighed. "That's true but for now.."

"For now, we have to be careful. We can't get caught."

"For now." You echoed.

Mitch nodded and felt your hand run down his ribcage and up his back. He loved the way you touched him. You moved your fingers under the blanket and pressed them against his defined hipbones. You felt him tense up at your lustful touch. You grinned.

"You know, I always thought that sex with you would be different."

Mitch's head popped up from your lap, and he pounced on you, pinning you back to the bed. "You thought about having sex with me for how long and how often?" He grinned from ear to ear.

You laughed, and pushed him off of you. He laid on his side, naked, staring at you adjust onto your side to face him. "I just... you're so serious and intense and... aggressive... and I guess I figured that sex with you would be more rough and dominating... and kinky." You raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"I can do rough and dominating and kinky if that's what you want." Mitch licked his lips and pulled you towards him.

You bit down on your bottom lip and smiled. "I liked last night though too. I have never had someone so intensely focused on me during sex before, not like that. It was..." You sighed. Your words were escaping you. "It was really hot." You laughed quietly.

Mitch pulled your head in for a kiss. "I loved last night. I had been thinking about it for weeks and to finally be inside of you and feel your body against mine." Mitch shook his head, and swept a rogue hair out of your face. "It was better than I ever imagined."

You climbed on top of him, completely tangled in his sheets, and greedily shoved your lips against his. You had butterflies in your stomach and you just wanted to feel him inside of you again. He wrapped his arms around you and held you crushingly tight against him. He wanted you just as badly.

The alarm went off.

"I fucking hate this place." You murmured into the bed beside Mitch's head as you both realized that your time together had come to an end until that night.

Stan had really taken Mitch under his wing since they came back from Ghost Protocol Training. Instead of mixing Mitch in with the other recruits, Stan had Mitch practicing with him as the recruits all practiced with each other. You missed being able to occasionally train with him and spend that extra time together throughout the daylight hours, even if you were just beating on each other or training different techniques. Mitch, however, liked watching you take down the other male recruits. He enjoyed knowing that you could not only protect yourself but really inflict harm on someone else if you wanted or needed.

Stan got pulled away by a phone call during sniper practice, however, and told Mitch to go help you since you were the two that were then left without a partner, but mostly because you were both already expert marksmen. Mitch was relieved. He needed to talk to you since that morning when you were in bed together. He laid down on his stomach next to you as you took a shot and hit your target dead on.

"Y/n/n.."

"Yes?" You remained focused, your cheek pressed against the stock of your M24-Sniper Rifle, focusing on your next target through the telescopic lens. You breathed deeply, and then looked up at him. "I can't shoot with you hovering over me like this, what's wrong?" You whispered.

"I came in you last night and we didn't wear a condom and I only just realized that." Mitch was not whispering to the best of his ability.

You pursed your lips, trying to keep from laughing. "I know." You buried your face in your arm on the ground and stifled further laughter. "Okay, okay, it's fine. We're covered."

"How?"

You cocked your head to the side. "Mitch... come on, I am training to be a covert spy. Do you think I have time for periods? Have you ever seen a tampon in the bathroom at the main house?" Mitch was taken aback by your openness. You shook your head, answering your own question. "I had an IUD inserted two years ago, when I came here, it stopped my menstruating and my ovulation. I didn't think that I would want do all of this if I had cramps once a month." You shrugged, and contorted your face. “You’re clean?” Mitch nodded. “Okay, I am too. We have nothing to worry about.”

"Just to clarify, you can't get pregnant?"

You shook your head again. "No." You laughed and pressed your cheek back against the stock of your gun. You exhaled and pulled the trigger, meeting your target with perfect precision.

You moved your shoulder ever so slightly to the right, rotating your gun to your next target. You adjusted the scope and got ready to fire, when you heard Mitch's low, raspy whisper in your ear. "Well in that case, I'm gonna drown you in my cum tonight."

A small whimper came out of your mouth, as you looked up at Mitch, a shit eating grin spread across his face, as he set up to shoot your target.

I could watch Dyl’s little smile in that gif all. damn. day. What about you?

You laid awake in your bed and stared at the morning sun moving across your walls. You heard the faint rolling of tires against gravel and assumed that Stan had come back from his trip. He had been in and out of The Barn constantly in the past three weeks. 

You didn't bother to get up and look. Instead, you got dressed: sports bra, tank top, shorts, socks, hair tie, sneakers. You could do a solid seven miles in the woods before you had to be back for morning target practice.

You sprinted through the woods, your heart racing. You could feel it pumping throughout your entire body. You bent over, your hands pressed against your knees as you caught your breath. You continued on, running the entire way back, without stopping, to the main house. You grabbed your shower stuff and towel and walked to the bathroom. 

You stripped in the stall, leaving your clothes inside, not caring if they got wet. You shut your eyes as the water rinsed the soap out of your hair and had a flashback of Dan covering your mouth and running his hands over your breasts. You opened your eyes and pressed your palms against the tiled walls around your, steadying yourself. Your legs shook, and you crouched down, the water falling on your back.

"Damnit." You slammed the underside of your fist against the tile. 

You steadied your breathing. You could never be a successful CIA agent and be having PTSD episodes and panic attacks. You shook your right hand, trying to make the shakes go away. You turned off the water, gathered your things, wrapped the towel around your body, and walked to your room. 

You threw a sweater on over your tank top, it covered most of your jean shorts, and you tied up your brown combat boots. You lazily brushed your hair back, and swirled it into a tight, wet bun. You glanced at his door, still closed, everything inside untouched, and walked out to the shooting range. 

Most of the men were picking guns off the table and then going to their usual alley to do their target practice. You picked up an SR-25 off the table. You were pissed off and wanted to shoot something big and effective, and the SR-25 was a good place to start. It was a DMR; a designated marksmen rifle, and it was barely a step down from being a high powered, more maneuverable sniper rifle. 

You crouched into position, leaning your elbow and the weapon against the cinderblock ledge, and lightly rested your cheek near the scope adjusting the range. You looked up when you heard the walkie talkie next to you crackle. You sighed over the breaking of your focus.

"What do you want today, Y/n/n?" The man said through the walkie talkie.

"Make 'em move." You put the radio back on the table.

Your targets began to move erratically in your shooting lane. Aim, exhale, pull. One bullseye. Aim, exhale, pull. Second bullseye. You pressed your cheek back up under the scope. The last target was farther. You cleared your mind. Opened your eyes and began tracking the moving target through the air. Aim... Aim... exhale, pull. Bullseye. You watched the target float as it dropped slowly to the ground. Aim, exhale, pull.

"Damn, girl, I think you hit that thing dead center twice." The instructor over the walkie talkie said.

You glanced over, disinterested in his opinion or praise, and turned the volume down on the radio. You looked up from your gun and saw that four other lanes were using the moving target systems. You thought back, you had sixteen shots left in your magazine. You pressed your cheek under the scope again. Aim, exhale, pull. Bullseye. Aim exhale, pull. Bullseye. Aim, exhale, pull. Bullseye. You did this until your magazine was empty.

You pulled it out and reloaded. Your firing time was getting quicker, and your accuracy was off the charts. In two minutes flat, you had shot a bullseye into every moving target in the firing range. You put the safety back on your gun, removed your safety goggles, and placed your designated marksmanship rifle on the supply table next to you.

You looked up and caught the glares of the four guys who's targets you had shot down for them. You didn’t give a fuck. You walked back to the main house. The SR-25 did nothing to quell your anger.

You went through the motions of the day, a bit more rigorous since Stan was actually back at The Barn. 0600 - breakfast, which you grabbed on the way back from your run. 0645 to 0745 was the gun range. At 0800, Stan sent the group into the Schoolhouse to run tradecraft and language seminars. 1200 hours was lunch. 1300 hours was technical and computer coding training back at the Schoolhouse. At 1615, Stan paired everyone up, zip-tied their wrists together behind their backs, and dropped them in the pool in the gym. ‘Tread water and get yourself out of the zip-ties’. was the mission. By 1830, everyone had made it out of the pool and Stan dismissed the trainees for the evening.

You stayed behind, swimming laps and punishing your already sore body further. After your twenty-fifth lap, you swam to the shallow end, threw your arms on to the concrete and rested your head against the side of the pool. Your lungs and muscles ached for rest. You closed your eyes and allowed the water to float you for a few minutes. Finally, you pushed up against the concrete and pulled yourself out of the pool. You walked over to the towel you had draped on the chair and threw it over your shoulder. You grabbed your bag off the ground and went into the the locker room to shower.

The Barn was quiet, as you walked back from the gym, even though it was only 9pm. You sighed, and begrudgingly walked back to your bedroom, knowing that his door would still be closed and he would still not be in there.

"Everything okay, Y/f/i? Aiden told me you've been going extra hard and pissing people off lately." Stan said from the comfort of his lawn chair at the top of the stairs, just outside the front door.

You ran your hand through your soaking wet tresses, shaking them out and spraying water on the ground below you. "I'm fine, Stan. Just trying to master everything so you will finally let me out of here, and allow me to go on a real mission." You had grown indifferent in the ways in which you spoke to others.

"In time, kid." Stan relaxed back into his chair, and took a swig of his beer. You rolled your eyes and walked through the front door.

You glanced at his door. Still closed. You checked your watch before you entered your room. 2330 hours. You sighed. It was late. 

You opened your bedroom door and saw him, sitting on your bed, elbows resting against his knees, hands folded in front of him, his chocolate brown eyes raising from the floor to see your face.

He got up off your bed, walked towards you, pressed his body against yours, ran his fingers up against your cheeks and kissed you. You dropped your bag to the floor and wrapped your arms around his torso. He didn't care that the two of you were sticking out in the hallway. He had been dreaming about that kiss for 21 days. "Hi."

"Hi." You checked your surroundings. No one was in the hall. You pushed him inside of your room, grabbed your bag, threw it under your bed, and locked the door behind you. "Are you okay?"

Mitch nodded. He stood back, revealing a tight fitting black thermal with buttons in between his clavicles, that he had the sleeves pushed up on, and a pair of blue jeans and his usual brown leather boots. "Are you okay?" He asked.

You shook your head, and furrowed your brow, wrinkles collecting on your forehead. "Where have you been?"

"With Stan."

You narrowed your eyes and walked over to him. That was the last thing you were expecting him to say, although you didn’t really know what you expected him to say. "With Stan?"

"Not the whole time, but most of it."

You shook your head. You didn't understand. You sat on the bed next to Mitch, pulling your boots off of your feet, and massaging your toes. He saw what you were doing, and grabbed your feet, pulling them into his lap. You slid over your blankets towards him and shut your eyes in relief as he began pressing his thumbs into the bottoms of your feet. Mitch stared at you, feeling at ease himself at being back in your presence.

"Do you want me to go so you can sleep? We can talk tomorrow."

You perked up, pulling your feet from his hands and sitting up in the middle of the bed. "Two things: I don't want you to go anywhere, I want you to sit in my bed and tell my what the hell happened the past three weeks AND if we sleep at all tonight, we are not doing it in separate rooms."

Mitch smiled, brought his legs up onto the bed, crossed them, and brought your feet back into his lap.

"I don't want to keep things from you. You trusted me with your secret."

"Then tell me where you've been."

"About two weeks after I got here, Stan came into my room first thing in the morning and gave me a five minute warning that I'd be going somewhere with him. I wasn't to pack anything, just swallow the pill he left on my dresser. I did what he said and the next thing I remember, I woke up in this underground warehouse, where they had me taking IQ tests and logic exams and running physical's and stress tests. My last day there, they hooked me and a bunch of other guys up to this virtual reality machine that put us in to a terrorist plot. We were to memorize who the terrorists were in a massive group of people, and kill them once the simulation began. I killed every terrorist without a single life lost."

Half way through Mitch's story, you had pulled your feet from his hands, and were sitting up listening to him intently from across the bed.

"Director Kennedy told me that I was going to be a new operative in a covert organization supported by the CIA but held outside of the Agency, headed by Stan, called the Orion Team. Stan kept calling it his 'Ghost Protocol Training'."

"And that's where you were the past three weeks?" You asked.

Mitch nodded. "They had me swimming, running, biking, climbing, fighting, and shooting and learning code..."

You interrupted him. "That's all shit you do here."

Mitch shook his head. "These were fifteen or sixteen hour days of non-stop training. I am now fluent in French. It is twenty times more intense than here."

"What is the point of all of this?" You asked, afraid of the answer.

"There is a guy that they trained and then he turned. They've been tracking him for years and every so often he pops up, and he's fucking dangerous. I saw the pictures of what he did in Yemen and Iran. He's a trained agent of chaos.. Stan said that in order to kill what he created, he needs to make another Ghost. Irene and him think I'm the right candidate for the job."

"Who is this guy?"

Mitch shook his head. "Stan won't tell me any specifics, but he promised that once I take this guy out, he'll embed me in Jordan, and will help me wipe out the Bahi terrorists that killed Katrina."

"Are you going back soon?" You asked, pain in your eyes.

"No, I'm here training with all of you until they get a solid lead on where this guy is." Mitch leaned forward towards you. "I didn't want to leave you. I thought about you every day for three weeks. Every day I spent there, I thought about that kiss and what you were probably thinking since I just vanished. I'm sorry. I know Stan checks my things when I'm at Ghost, I couldn't leave a note." Mitch shook his head.

"....Fine, but if this is going to be a thing.. you disappearing without notice. We need to figure out a signal, something subtle that Stan won't figure out but that I'll know what it means explicitly."

They devised a system. When Stan gave him his few minute warning that he had to leave, Mitch would go into your room and take one of the two books you had leant him. Gatsby meant he was on a mission, Catch-22 meant he had been taken back to Ghost Protocol training.

I LOVE THIS CHAPTER. it was such a joy to write a real badass woman. I hope you all enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought!