Imagine...being with the amazing actor and all his fictional characters. The stories await...
Dylan O'Brien, Stiles Stilinski, Void Stiles, Stuart Twombly, Dave Hodgman, Mitch Rapp, Thomas, Joel Dawson.
*FINISHED*
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Mitch Rapp
Version 1: Imagine you just joined the camp and you were really clumsy. Mitch Rapp helps you train to be an assassin.
Version 2: BANG! BANG! BANG!
Three loud, continuous gunshots echoed through the entire camp. Unfortunately, none of the bullets hit the target, zooming pass it, buried the dirt.
The large impact of the gunshot caused you to stumble a few steps backwards, causing you to almost trip over Mitch Rapp, who was standing right behind you.
"Damn it!" You cursed, seeing that you failed to hit the target again. You threw your gun onto the ground restlessly, then you dropped to the ground for some rest. You sighed, knowing that you were hopeless. You had been practicing for the entire afternoon and out of one hundred tries, you only succeeded in fifteen.
"Again! No slacking, (y/n)! Get your butt off the ground!" Mitch's voice broke through the crisp air.
"Hold on one second, Rapp! Let me take a break! I've been doing this all day!" You grumbled at him.
He took a step closer, the dried leaves on the ground crunched as he stepped on them.
"There's no time for breaks. You're really falling behind in your training and you're getting worse. I'm here to train you, not to play around." He stated in a serious tone.
"I'm really tired ok? And you're just standing there, watching me do this. Have you tried doing this for hours and hours before? Shooting the same damn targets all day without succeeding? Huh? You don't even know how I feel right now!" You retorted.
Mitch pulled you up immediately, forcing you to get to your feet. His eyes flared with anger as he got directing in your face. "I'm making you do this cause you're not improving, as a matter of fact, getting worse. You know why? Because you don't ever absorb the tips I give you! I was able to learn as I listened to the tips of others on how to improve on my weaknesses. You don't follow my orders, miss eighty percent of your shots and always trip over your obstacles and you expect me to go easy on you? That's not going to happen (y/n)..."
You rolled your eyes in annoyance and folded your arms. "Well, I am a girl you know..." you muttered.
"So what? Do you think your enemies would actually care whether you're a girl or not? They would probably just brutally murder your little ass! You're training to be an assassin. Now, follow my orders and shoot the fucking targets again! And this time, don't miss it..."
Mitch turned and you bent down to pick up your gun. You glared at him. Then, you took the opportunity to kick the back of his legs out while he back-faced you. But, as an experienced assassin, he must have predicted your movement, spinning quickly to face you. He grabbed one of your arms, turned and flipped you over his back, bringing you down hard onto the dirt ground of the shooting range. Your gun flew out of your hands, landing one meter away from you. Mitch pinned both your arms firmly to the ground. You grunted upon impact, and struggled to break free. You then used you legs to kick him aside, you arms escaping from his grip. You both continued to wrestle in the dirt. Mitch finally spun around on top of you, reaching for the gun you dropped as he cocked the gun, pointing it directly at your forehead, the barrel pressing into your skin.
