#jack/female!OC | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aviscarrentals · 2 months

Text

Yelp • Chapter 1 ls2

masterlist previous chapter next chapter

words: 1.5k

warnings: cursing, implied off"screen" deaths, injury/blood, implied character death

notes: this first chapter is mostly just exposition (and a little sad i know), but at the very end you get a sneak peak of the action before everything turns totally cray. (there will be more defined logan x parker in the future chapters as well.) parker is supposed to be the "reader" character. i decided to use a gender-neutral name instead of y/n because that's not my thing. she/her pronouns and feminine descriptions are used, but her gender is not a major plot point at all, so you can totally still read this imagining parker however you want. i hope you enjoy!

“God, it’s so weird just going right back to school like nothing’s even happened,” Parker started.

“Yeah,” Logan agreed. “Five fucking kids are dead, but science! Calculus! English!” he finished mockingly.

“Well, four,” Oscar corrected him, Lily nodding along.

Logan let out a large exhale and nodded. “Crazy he survived that shit considering how fucked up the rest of them were.”

“Well, you know what they say about quiet kids,” Arthur chimed in. The other five immediately turned to look at him in confusion.

“What?” Fred questioned incredulously.

“What?” Arthur demanded. “They’re like actually really cool and badass and stuff.”

“Huh?” Logan inquired with a furrowed brow. “I thought the thing was that they’re like… kinky and shit.”

“Mate, what the fuck?” Arthur responded defensively. “Why would I say that?”

“Well, that’s like the thing people say,” Logan bickered. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’ve never heard anyone say that in my entire life.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Arthur retorted, making them all burst out into laughter for a brief moment before they all returned to a somber silence when they remembered the conversation that led them here in the first place.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to class?” Logan pressed, his pleading tone making it obvious that he was asking for his own sake instead of his girlfriend’s.

“No,” Parker laughed him off, pushing his chin off of her shoulder and his arms from around her waist. “The health room is all the way on the other side of the building. You’ll be late. Again.”

“Yeah, well-” Logan began to protest before his newest complaint was interrupted by a loud crack behind him that made the both of them jump. They turned around to see Zhou Guanyu staring back at them guiltily.

“Sorry,” he started to apologize “I just dropped-”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Logan interrupted, as Parker reached down to pick up the textbook that fell from his locker.

“Thank you,” he said with a shy smile when she handed it back to him.

“No problem,” she reassured him, returning the expression. “It’s the least I can do, especially considering…” She trailed off, instead gesturing to his left arm which was fully encased in a sling.

After a moment of awkward silence, the girl spoke up again. “Um, what class do you have next? I can help you carry your things,” she offered.

“Bio,” he answered, “but it’s alright,” the boy quickly added. “It’s not far, I wouldn't want you to go out of your way-”

“No, that’s perfect,” she interrupted. “I’ve got psych first period, so I’m headed to the science wing too,” she explained, lifting the heavy load from his hands, right as the morning bell rang.

“Alright,” Logan said, leaning over his girlfriend’s shoulder to give her an instinctual kiss on the cheek. “I better get going. If I’m late to Mrs. K’s class one more time I think she might beat me to death with one of the CPR dummies.”

Parker immediately bore her eyes into her boyfriend’s soul at his word choice, the poor boy not remembering his audience until the words had already left his mouth. Looking like a deer in headlights, he simply turned around and scurried off.

“Sorry,” Parker apologized once she turned back to Zhou, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” he said, chuckling.

“Shit, we better get going or we’ll be late too.”

“You guys know Zhou, right?” Parker asked the group in front of her as she led the incapacitated boy to her customary lunch spot under the oak trees in the school courtyard. The two were met with a chorus of “yeah”s and welcomes.

“I hope it’s okay that I sit with you guys today,” he asked timidly.

“Yeah, great to have you, man,” Liam assured him as Lily reached across the table to relieve Parker of the extra lunch tray.

“Didn’t we have trig together last year, mate?” Dennis piped up to ask him.

“Um… I’m not sure. I don’t think I would recognize you in class,” the bashful boy responded, leading to a roaring bout of laughter from the crowd.

“Goddamn! He got your ass, Hauger,” Jack said through a fit of childish giggles.

As the conversation continued, Parker couldn’t help but notice that one of the usual members of their crew was missing. “Hey, babe,” she said as she nudged her boyfriend’s rib to get his attention.

“What?”

“Where’s Paul?” she asked, concerned. “He said he was coming to school when I checked in on him yesterday,” the girl recalled.

“Yo, Bearman,” Logan called quietly to the younger boy sitting across from them.

“What’s up?” Ollie questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Have you seen Paul at all today? Did he change his mind about coming in?”

“No, he’s here,” Ollie informed the couple. “I think he probably just wants some time to himself right now. Usually…” he trailed off.

Parker and Logan nodded in understanding. Usually Paul wasn’t the only Aron present at the lunch table.

“How are you holding up?” Parker inquired, giving the boy’s hand a gentle squeeze. Paul had lost a brother, but Ollie had lost the next best thing. His best friend. “I’m alright, thanks for asking,” he replied a little too quickly, flitting his eyes away from the couple before abruptly turning to rejoin the ongoing conversation to his right.

Logan and Parker shared a sad glance, but decided it was better to leave the boy be. Paul probably wasn’t the only one who needed space.

“So,” Arthur’s voice rang out, gathering everyone’s attention. “We’ve got Wednesday off, what say you all we hang at my place tomorrow night.”

“OMG! Sleepover!” Jack shrieked in a high pitched voice, eliciting a few snorts from the kids surrounding him.

“Shut up, Doofus,” Arthur shouted at him playfully.

“That’s not my name, Lecdumbass,” the other boy snapped back, overdramatically rolling his eyes in jest.

“Anyways…” Arthur hollered over his friends’ audible amusement, attempting to gather their attention again. “Is everybody in? You too, Guanyu,” he clarified, to which the meek boy simply nodded, much to the others’ delight. “Awesome!”

As everyone else agreed to the plan, Jack interrupted once again. “Can’t. My parents have been totally freaking out over all this shit. You know how they are. So, unfortunately, the only party I will be attending is Doohan family game night hosted at 15 Fairview Road. Sorry, gang.”

“Well, hope you have fun playing Scrabble with Mummy tonight,” Liam teased.

“Yeah,” Dennis joined in sarcastically, “maybe if you’re lucky she’ll let you have a scoop of chocolate ice cream too. With sprinkles!”

“Alright, fuck you all, I’m out of here,” Jack countered, beginning to gather his things in perfect unison with the end-of-lunch bell.

“Bye-bye, Doofenshmirtz!” Parker called to the boy’s back.

“See ya when Mama Doohan lets you out of your cage again,” her boyfriend added with a big grin, made even wider when Jack simply flipped them off as he continued walking away.

Dennis had worked his ass off all summer. He wanted that spot on the team and he wanted it bad. So, in the month leading up to tryouts, he had to keep up his training. And if Coach saw how dedicated he was maybe that would benefit him too.

After another grueling workout under the hot September sun, Dennis made his way back to the empty locker room. He could smell, see, feel, and taste the sweat on his body, making him strip off his soaked through shirt before the door had even fully closed behind him. He needed a shower ASAP.

All of a sudden, he felt the air knocked out of his lungs as his back hit the ground, letting out a strident wheeze. He laid there for a moment, groaning in pain and sweating even harder than before. Wait, no. That wasn’t sweat…

The boy wearily lifted his head off the ground, still recovering from the harsh impact of his fall, only to see the entire floor of the room flooded.

“What the fuck?” he sighed out with the little breath he was able to collect.

He slowly lifted himself back to his feet, ignoring his spinning head, until he looked down at where he had been only to be greeted by a river of pink floating in the shallow water. He reached his fingers to softly touch the back of his throbbing head and was immediately met with an intense pain and sticky, red blood covering his hand.

The boy sluggishly stumbled forward toward the sinks in order to better assess the situation and clean his open wound. The only sounds he could make out were his laboured breaths and the splashes of his feet meeting the puddles beneath him. Splish. Splash. Splish. Splash. Splish. He paused for a moment as the world spun around him.

Splash.

But the sound of that extra step behind him didn’t register in time for him to save himself.

taglist (if you would like to be added or removed just lmk!): @gaypoetsblog @koris-009 @feralnando @disneyprincemuke @osbuzz @avaayalaa @faithshouseofchaos @thearchieves @scuderia-piastri @lovelytsunoda @localwhoore @foreveralbon @vroomvroomcircuit @mclarengf @lipringlrh

116 notes · View notes

moeitsu · 3 months

Text

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: A fisher of men and A strange encounter.

Ao3 Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.1 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Ch 2 - The Snow Is On The Grass Again

The chill of May lingered as Kate set up camp near the riverbank, where patches of snow still clung to the ground. With the water icy cold, bathing was out of the question, but she found comfort in the soothing melody of the flowing stream. Nearby, Lorena grazed peacefully as Kate hummed a tune and cast her line, hoping for a catch to satisfy her hunger.

It had been two weeks since her stagecoach heist with Arthur and Hosea. Since then, Seamus hasn’t given her any more dubious tasks, and she hasn’t seen the two men either. She went back to being a ranch hand for a bit until she told Seamus it was time she moved on again. She followed the river south until she found a suitable spot to set up camp for the night.

It was a beautiful sunny day, but still chilly enough for a jacket. "It's cold, but at least the fish don't seem to mind," Kate remarked to herself as she felt a strong tug on her fishing line. With a flick of her wrist, she hooked the fish and began reeling it in, “Cmon now don’t fight too hard,” she mused to herself.

Lorena whinnied for attention "easy, girl," Kate murmured, as she made a noise behind her again. "Let me pull this in first." Suddenly, the quiet scene shattered as Lorena squealed in fear, her hooves pounding the ground. Kate's heart raced as she spun around, spotting a small copperhead slithering toward her mare.

"Sh-shhh, it's alright, it's just a snake," Kate reassured, her voice trembling slightly. But Lorena, in a state of panic, bolted downstream. With a grunt, Kate abandoned her fishing pole and chased after her horse. "Lorena! It's okay, girl, you're alright!" she called out, her voice echoing over the rushing water.

Though reluctant to admit it, Kate knew this wasn't the first time Lorena had been spooked. Usually, the mare's restlessness signaled impending danger, but snakes remained her Achilles' heel. It was a fear Kate couldn't rid her beloved horse of, even if she tried. Not that she ever would.

As they rounded the bend of the river, Kate lost sight of Lorena, but the mare's hoofprints remained etched in the sand. With a silent prayer, she pressed on, hoping her companion hadn't ventured too far.

━━━━━༻��༺━━━━━

"Think this spot looks good, Uncle Arthur," chirped the little boy from his saddle as they neared the riverbank's edge.

"I think you’re right Jack. Let's give it a shot and see if we can reel in some fish," Arthur replied, guiding Belle to the sandy shore and helping Jack dismount.

Taking the smaller fishing pole from Arthur, Jack asked, "Where should we stand?"

"Right by the shoreline, just follow me," Arthur directed, leading Jack to the water's edge. "See those ripples? That's where you'll want to cast your line. Just aim for that, and you'll snag 'em."

“I wanna try!” He exclaimed impatiently while Arthur baited their lines with cheese.

"Okay kiddo, watch me. Hold the line over your shoulder like this," Arthur demonstrated, guiding Jack's movements. "Now, swing it forward smoothly, using your wrist, not your elbow."

Jack mimicked his uncle's actions eagerly. "Like this?"

"Exactly! Well done, Jack. Now, all we do is wait for a fish to take the bait," Arthur said proudly, as Jack beamed up at him, standing closer by his side.

As Arthur watched Jack with a mixture of pride and guilt, he realized how long it had been since they'd spent quality time together. Since their escape from Blackwater, life had been a whirlwind of tasks assigned by Dutch and taking care of the camp, leaving little room for personal time. He was about to leave camp again when Abigail asked if Arthur would watch Jack for her. Dutch would most likely make a comment about it later, but at the moment he couldn't care.

After a minute of peaceful silence, Jack looked up at him again with a curious expression. "Uncle Arthur, can the fish see us?"

Arthur chuckled at the unexpected question. "Well, not exactly like how you see me. It's a bit blurry for them, I reckon," he replied, scratching his head at the complexity of explaining fish vision to a four-year-old.

"Oh, okay. Can they hear us then?" Jack fired another question.

"Pretty much the same, I suppose," Arthur replied with a grin. "They can hear us, but not as clear as you and I can hear each other. Why all the questions, Jack?"

"Do fish talk?" Jack pressed on, undeterred by his uncle's attempt to change the subject.

Arthur smiled and shook his head. "Well, Jack, do other animals talk?" he countered, hoping to steer the conversation in a different direction.

Jack paused for a moment, pondering the question. "Hmm, nope. Can't think of any," he admitted.

"Exactly. So, no, fish don't talk," Arthur affirmed, looking down at Jack, who seemed lost in thought, gazing at the grasses behind them.

"Uncle Arthur, I'm bored," Jack suddenly declared, breaking the silence.

Arthur let out a quiet sigh, realizing his attempt at fishing with his young nephew hadn't been the most thrilling activity. "Yeah, I figured as much," he muttered to himself. Louder, he addressed Jack, "You know what? Why don't you go explore? Just stay close to me, alright?" But before Arthur could finish his sentence, Jack darted off toward a nearby pool of rocks.

As Arthur continued fishing, lost in his own thoughts, he heard the loud approach of hoofbeats. Instinctively, he jumped to intercept the approaching stranger before they could draw too close to him and Jack. To his surprise, the horse charging toward him was unmistakably Kate's, riderless and wild.

"Ain’t that Kate's horse?" Arthur muttered to himself in disbelief, raising his hands in a futile attempt to calm the agitated mare. "Easy, girl, it's alright," he murmured soothingly.

Jack, drawn by the commotion, hurried to join Arthur, his eyes wide with excitement. "Whoa! Where'd that horse come from?" he exclaimed.

"Stay behind me, Jack. She's spooked, and I don't want her to accidentally harm you," Arthur cautioned. As he tried to assess the situation he recognized it was indeed Kate's horse but was unable to recall its name. Peering down the riverbank where the horse had emerged, he found no sign of its owner.

With gentle words and a steady hand, Arthur coaxed the horse into submission, finally gaining control of the reins. "What kinda trouble you in, girl?" he wondered aloud, stroking her snout.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

As Kate followed the hoof prints of her mare, she rounded another bend in the river and finally spotted her beloved horse. "Oh thank god," she murmured, letting out a relieved sigh. Right before realizing there were two figures accompanying Lorena—a burly man and a small boy, both appearing to have been fishing.

About to call out her gratitude, Kate stopped as the man turned, revealing himself to be Arthur, the same man from the stagecoach incident. Surprised yet somewhat pleased to see him, memories of their previous encounter flooded back, particularly their pleasant conversation during the ride back from Carmody Dell. They had talked about their horses and she knew Lorena was in good hands with him.

"Mr. Morgan! I can't thank you enough. I hope she didn't cause you any trouble," Kate called out, jogging to meet them. Arthur looked up at the sound of his name, visibly relieved at her arrival, replied, "Miss McCanon! I was a little worried when I saw your horse come through here without you."

"She got spooked by a snake, that's all," Kate explained, petting Lorena affectionately. "She's a bit dramatic, though," she added with a hint of amusement.

As a small face peeked around Arthur's frame, Kate smiled warmly, realizing it must be his son. "Your horse is very pretty, miss," the boy remarked shyly.

“Thank you, would you like to pet her?” She asked with a smile, the boy nodded, “she’s a little shy so just go slow, let her come to you.” The child looked up at Arthur and only approached once he nodded a go ahead.

"Getting tired of Seamus' dubious stagecoach business, I take it?" Arthur teased, prompting laughter from Kate. Their banter flowed effortlessly, she found Arthur refreshingly different from most men she encountered. He had a playful and protective aura, with a bit of something else that made her incredibly intrigued. Or maybe it was just because he was handsome.

Kate smiled and shook her head with a laugh, “not quite. Just about time I move on I guess. I was only passin’ through. I see you’re still here enjoying the countryside though, haven’t given up on robbing stagecoaches yet?” She teased back.

Before Arthur could respond, the boy blurted out, "Uncle Arthur and my daddy robbed a—" Arthur swiftly intervened, diverting attention away from the boy's revelation.

"Kids have wild imaginations," Arthur chuckled nervously, steering the conversation back. "So, um, where are you heading? Camping around here?" he inquired.

So Jack is his nephew, Kate smiled to herself, these two were adorably entertaining, her heart panged slightly at the memory of what her life could have looked like. Her grief still makes itself present in the cracks of her being even after all these years. "Just going west, no place in particular. My camp is just downstream," she replied, gesturing in the direction she came from.

Jack tugged on Arthur’s sleeve and motioned for him to bend down, with a slight roll of his eyes he kneeled down to his level, “can we invite her back to camp?” The boy whispered not so quietly.

“Jack you can’t go inviting every stranger you meet back to camp,” he spoke sternly, “you know we’re on the run, we gotta be safe around here.” He added quietly, the boy looked up sadly but nodded in understanding. Arthur entertained the thought of inviting Kate back to the camp, he knew she was taking on odd jobs and constantly on the move. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if she stayed for a few days. He would never admit it, but he was a little disappointed they didn't cross paths again in the two weeks since the heist.

“Ah, hell, why not” he breathed, turning back to Kate, “It’ll get pretty cold tonight, winters still not through in these parts. My camp is up on Horseshoe overlook,” he took his hat off bashfully, “If you’d like a warm fire, and some good company, you're welcome to join us.”

As Kate was about to respond to Arthur's invitation, the rhythmic thud of hooves interrupted them. Two men in detective uniforms descended toward the water, casting a shadow over their gathering. "What a touching and complex circumstance we have here," one of the men remarked as he dismounted, while the other leveled his rifle at Arthur. Sensing danger, Kate instinctively stayed close to her horse.

Protectively, Arthur positioned himself in front of Jack as the man approached. "Arthur, is it? Arthur Morgan?" he inquired, his tone heavy with accusation.

"Who are you?" Arthur countered, his voice tight with tension.

"Yes, Arthur Morgan," the man echoed, “Van Der Linde’s most trusted associate, orphaned street kid seduced by that maniac's silver tongue. And matures into a degenerate murderer.” He finished.

Arthur's tension escalated, leaving Kate astounded. She harbored suspicion that there was more to him than met the eye, but the revelation of being wanted for murder caught her completely off guard. Despite the shock, she found herself even more intrigued by the supposed outlaw.

“I’m agent Milton, and this is agent Ross,” he gestured to the other gentleman holding the rifle. “We’re with the Pinkerton Detective Agency. It's nice to finally meet you,” he looked over at Kate and added, “and you as well miss. Who might you be?”

"Madeleine McCanon," Kate responded, opting for a false name to distance herself from whatever was about to unfold. Agent Milton pressed further, questioning her connection to Arthur.

“Do you know this man?” He inquired, but before she could answer he continued, “because we sure know him.” His tone, that of a detective accustomed to authority, carried a hint of arrogance, as if he relished the prospect of confrontation.

“Oh do you?” Arthur said coldly.

“He’s a wanted man, Miss McCanon,” he said, turning to face her, “There's five thousand dollars for his head alone.” Kate glanced a look at Arthur but made no sign of her surprise.

Arthur chuckled, "Five thousand dollars? For me?" He glanced around casually. "Can I turn myself in?" he quipped.

Agent Milton's expression remained stern. "We want Van der Linde. A man matching his description robbed a train belonging to Leviticus Cornwall a few weeks back."

Kate's memory jolted as she recalled reading about the robbery in the paper. It was carrying money to fund a new oil rig off the Wapiti reservation. Thousands of dollars were stolen, but none of the passengers on the train were injured.

“Ain't that a little old fashioned nowadays?” Arthur attempted, trying to sound innocent.

“Apparently not,” Milton deadpanned, “this is my offer Mr. Morgan: You bring us Van der Linde. And you have my word you won't swing.”

“Oh, I ain't gonna swing anyways agent Milton. You see, I haven't done anything wrong, aside from not playing the game by your rules.” He argued condescendingly.

Milton's tone grew sterner. "I appreciate this society."

“You enjoy being a rich man's toy!” Arthur snapped back.

“You people venerate savagery, and you will die savagely,” Milton emphasized.

Arthur's voice dripped with defiance. "All of us are gonna die someday, agent, some sooner than others."

With that, Milton turned on his heel and walked toward his horse. "Good day to you, Mr. Morgan," he said as he departed. "And if you know what's good for you, Miss McCanon, stay far away from this man. Unless you want to end up dead like his friend Mac Callander."

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Arthur cursed under his breath, " fuck ." He turned to face Kate, Jack looking between them, unsure of what to do next.

Feeling like a complete fool for inviting Kate back to camp, Arthur realized he had just given away Dutch's whereabouts and Milton exposed their crimes to her. He had hoped she would be safe for a night or two at camp without knowing their true identities, but now, with everything at stake, he wrestled with the decision. The lives of his gang were paramount, but involving an innocent woman in their mess weighed heavily on his conscience. He would never force her, but with everything at stake now he hoped she would still come back with him. Or else she might go inform the authorities of their whereabouts.

“So, railway workers from the North huh?” Kate questioned, breaking him from his thoughts.

“If you’ll let me explain miss-” he started, unsure what was about to come out of his mouth.

With the revelation of Arthur's true identity and the dangers it presented, Kate found herself torn between fear and curiosity. While her instincts screamed at her to flee from these outlaws, there was an inexplicable pull towards Arthur. Despite the fear gnawing at her, she couldn't shake the connection she felt with him. There was something in his eyes, a vulnerability masked by his tough exterior, that resonated with her own struggles.

"I'll come with you," she said, her voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling within her. "I've never been one to shy away from a little danger, and besides," she added with a wry smile, "I've always had a knack for finding trouble."

Arthur looked at her, a mixture of surprise and gratitude flickering in his eyes. He knew the risks she was taking by choosing to stand by him, but he also couldn't deny the feeling of relief that washed over him.

His gaze softened and he bent down to lift Jack up onto his saddle, “well, it’s getting late. Want to head back with us?”he asked, settling himself in behind the boy.

Kate nodded and answered, “I’d be happy to. Let me grab my things from camp and I’ll meet you back here,” she replied, gracefully mounting Lorena.

With those words, she cantered off downstream, disappearing into the fading light.

“Why did those men ask where Uncle Dutch is?” Jack questioned, his voice tinged with innocence.

“Because… well, those are disagreeable men. And they want to hurt Dutch.”Arthur explained, his tone grave.

“Like they hurt Mac?” Jack's voice was small, filled with concern.

Arthur hesitated, then replied, “Ahh don't worry about Mac, I’m sure he’s alright wherever he is. They were just trying to scare us is all,” he patted Jack's shoulder reassuringly., “the world is full of disagreeable men. That’s why you got all of us, to protect you from folk like them.”

“Is that why you invited Miss McCanon back to camp, to protect her from the bad guys too?” he asked innocently.

Arthur chuckled, masking his uncertainty. "Uh, yeah, something like that," he replied, the corners of his lips twitching. He wasn't sure why exactly he invited Kate to stay with him, sure, he didn't like the idea of her being alone in the cold. But why did he care? Something about the woman intrigued him, and it wasn't just her pretty horse.

Unexpectedly, Jack's voice piped up again. "Uncle Arthur, what does 'fuck' mean?"

Arthur's laughter bubbled up, realizing the boy listens more than he cares to let on. "It means your mother will slap me if she hears you say that word," he joked, relieved for the distraction.

At that moment, the steady beat of hooves announced Kate's return.

#arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption community #rdr2 #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #john marston #jack marston #rdr2 fanfic #fluff #angst #x reader #oc x canon

45 notes · View notes

a-boca-do-inferno · 4 months

Text

Prague getaway (jack ryan x female oc)

summary: “Oh, loosen up already.” Randy leans back and shoots him a teasing look. “We’re gonna be here a long time, might as well hold hands and start singing Kumbaya.”

warnings: angst, blood, violence, swearing.lots of it, light smut, fluff

words: 10.7k (:O)

notes: jack ryan girlies rise!! i put my whole pussy in this. also its my first time ever writing with an oc so bear with me lmao.

CENTRAL EUROPE

Birds chirped outside and the loud chatter coming from the street was a bit distracting from the sound of TV, but Randy managed. Her plate faced her on the coffee table, now empty, along with a half filled cup of apple juice. It must have been past noon while she had the time of her life laying on that dirty and ancient couch, watching some Czech program about the Internet. And by the time of her life, she secretly meant being bored as hell. Tagging along with Jack Ryan wasn’t even on the list of the worst things that could’ve happened to her given the circumstances, by the way, she’s well aware of that—seeing as her life was now on the line and he was only there to protect her—but goddamnit, was that cable shit. The things she did to put Jim at ease.

Although the girl didn’t really agree with his tactics to go about it; Johnson just knew better than to argue with Greer. After she started getting on his nerves with her insistence on using the intel she acquired and he actually took her seriously, it had been noticeable he came to think of himself like a father figure to her, since she was a rookie in the mission department. And Randy simply let him feel that way. Being away from his family ever took its toll on the guy and contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t the clueless, selfish bitch everyone made her to be.

Always, anyway.

Jack glances at her spread out on the sofa, trying to keep his annoyance in check and failing miserably. “What are you watching?” His voice suggests he’s very affected that Randy herself doesn’t appear fazed by their current situation. At all.

They had been stuck in that shithole for six hours now, completely in the dark as to where the mission stood after the shady organisation of the moment—as Johnson liked to put it—crushed into their hotel rooms and chased them out of town. And despite not exactly considering the capital of the Czech Republic under a terrorist threat for his idea of a nice vacation, it certainly beat having to now share some dirty kitchenette in the outskirts of Prague with the most insufferable woman he’s ever met. Jack caught wind of the discrepancies in the way they did their job from the start, and to say he wasn’t pleased with hers was an understatement. Her so-called intel had led them to that place, and her negligence above it all bothered him to no end. That and the ever present snark. He wondered how in the world did that character make it to the agency. She should’ve been in publicity, instead.

“A nice TV show about ordinary people wanting to become influencers”, Johnson responds in that tone of hers, with an almost sweet smile. Ryan’s mouth moves as though he’ll say something, but decides not to. He has better things to do with his time than to argue with a brat. Jack simply stares at her green eyes and sighs, going back to his computer screen, and Randy snorts, “well, Jim did mention you don’t like having people around.” Her feet move back and forth as she watches him type. “I’m like you in that way, you know?” Closing the distance between them, she brushes some stuff off his eyelid carefully, and it’s clear the man wasn’t expecting that. He tenses up. “So, my bad. I don’t wanna be here any more than you do, but you know Greer.”

“Is that so?” Jack blinks, scanning her face up and down wryly. “In that case, you’re free to leave anytime you want.”

Johnson laughs heartily, contrasting his impassive demeanour. “You do have a sense of humour, Jackie! I’ll give you that.” She shrugs and grins, with a declare to her voice, “and to answer your question: maybe I’d try to, but I’m not skilled enough to outsmart a Marine, I’m afraid.”

Jack looks away, still typing on the keyboard mechanically. “You sound like a fan.”

“You wish.” Her orbs gleam with mischief, and she sits a bit straighter to make a striking pose. “I wouldn’t mind learning some moves, though. I’d love to kick some ass. I bet I could take you, big man.”

Ryan chuckles under his breath, against his best judgement. It feels surreal to him, this girl. “You certainly have a unique way about yourself.” He states bluntly, raising his brows as he closes up the laptop and puts it on the small table to their side. “Don’t really look like someone in Logistics.”

Randy nods, crossing her legs with a smug expression. “I didn’t get the memo before taking the job, I guess.”

“Right.”

“Oh, loosen up already.” She sits up and leans back on the couch, her attention going to the program running in the background for a second. “We’re gonna be here a long time, by the looks of it. Might as well hold hands and start singing Kumbaya.”

Jack shakes his head slightly, his tone growing more serious. “You need to focus on the mission, Johnson. This isn’t a game.”

“Sure thing, dad”, she snickers, running a hand through her short hair idly. “You talk like it’s your head those fuckers want on a plate.”

“It is too, actually.” Ryan frowns. That’s the attitude he doesn’t like. “I suggest you get your head out of your ass as soon as possible. Enough people have died because of you.”

Although his words sting, Randy keeps a lighthearted mood. “So is that why you’re behaving like an asshole ever since we landed, you’re worried about yourself?”, she wiggles her brows, fixing a few blonde strands softly and clicking her tongue. “And here I thought you just didn’t like me.”

“I don’t have time for this”, Jack mutters to himself and leaves, closing the door to his room quietly.

Johnson only hummed along, watching as the winner of the episode celebrated on the screen. She knew Ryan was doing nothing but his duty protecting her, of course, yet it felt strangely disappointing that he, of all people, seemed to judge her so much for her actions up until that point. Randy went behind her superiors’ backs to scavenge the information that now threatened her own safety, sure, but how many times had he done the same thing again? Either way, arguing with the guy about it was just showing she cared for his opinion—which she didn’t, for the record. That cable just sucked and she was bored as hell. With a heavy sigh, the girl stood up to turn off the TV when a sound made her ears prick up. She frowned, inspecting the empty space. Something fell on the floor with a loud thud in the other room and Randy took a step back.

“Jack?”, she calls, getting no reply.

Her feet moved toward his door and it crashed right before her eyes, causing her to step away in reflex as two bloody men were thrown on the ground with it. With no time to process what was happening, Ryan took her by the arm and dragged her out of the apartment with no delicacy whatsoever. They ran down the stairs while he cocked his gun and whispered something unintelligible. She grabbed his forearm when another two hooded figures started closing in on them. Jack quickly got rid of the attackers and gave Randy a look before pulling her out of the building and into a car.

“Drive.” He commands, keeping his eyes behind at anyone following their vehicle.

She obeys without a second thought, stepping on the accelerator with all her might. Johnson grips the wheel tightly as she mouths, in a shaky breath, “what the fuck is going on, Jack? Talk to me.”

Ryan braces himself as they take a harsh turn, blood dripping from his eyebrow. “They found us again.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” Randy gasps when a pickup appears out of nowhere, shooting at them. She makes a u-turn and steps on the pedal, watching from the rear mirror. “How the hell did that happen?”

“I don’t know, just drive!” Jack rolls down his window and fires all his rounds at the vehicle still on their tail. He goes back to his seat and reloads his pistol, looking straight ahead. “We gotta get to the Embassy.”

“Got it.”

♡♡♡

“I see.” Jim sighs through the phone call. “I still have some business here in Moscow, but I’ll be in Prague as soon as I can.”

Jack doesn’t like the sound of it at all. He keeps track of Randy moving around in the background. “Copy.”

The ride to the Embassy was messy, but they made it in one piece. Well, Ryan did. After settling in the nice hotel the Ambassador offered them in another city nearby Prague—as to not draw any more attention to them, in his own words—, now with heavy security outside, Johnson winced when trying to change. She lifted her shirt and only then saw the ugly bruise on her abdomen, her skin sliced open and gushing blood. It was a bullet graze and albeit it wasn’t serious, the thing still hurt like a bitch. As the girl hissed and took a seat on the bed, Jack stopped in his tracks and crouched down before her. He gauged her injury with a trained eye, his lips curling in thought.

“Remorse?” Randy laughs deeply, tilting her head. “Don’t worry, I don’t hold grudges.” She sighs and looks at him seriously, like she hadn’t been until now. “How the hell did they find us this time, Jack? This stinks. No one knew about that hideout except you, me and Greer.”

His voice drops to a lower register as he takes her arm and brings it around his shoulders to lay her down, “I’m working on it. Right now we need to focus on getting you patched up.” Jack pulls her body close to his and fluffs the pillows, making her comfortable. He tries to ignore the way her hair tickles his chin.

Johnson chews the inside of her cheek, but accepts the help. “I’m okay, it’s just a graze.” She gulps and scratches her eyelids, taking a deep breath and glancing up at the ceiling. “That pickup didn’t look cheap. These people have some serious connections here. We have to get to the bottom of this.”

“We will”, Ryan says with resolve, nodding once. He scans the room in search of a med-kit and Randy points to the bathroom.

While Jack leaves for a moment, Johnson moves a little and pouts when the pain comes back. He catches her in the act and she chuckles, a little embarrassed, “so much for spy training, huh?”

Rummaging through the kit, he hums, “if it was easy, everyone would do it.” In the midst of pulling out the antiseptic and the gauze roll, he steals a quick peek at her.

Randy only grunts in response, her lips pursed. “Greer’s gonna get our asses for this. He doesn’t even know we left Prague in the first place.”

Jack doesn’t reply immediately. He’s finally found the right size gauze roll and puts it aside. His orbs roam her up and down, studying her exposed skin. He whispers, almost talking to himself, “he’ll get over it.”

“You know, I’m sorry about earlier”, her gaze has an amused gleam, but seems sincere. “I have been a little more annoying than normal, I’m aware. I’m sure by now you noticed why I’m not so popular among my peers in the agency, especially not after this… mess.” She looks down.

“You make it difficult for them because you can afford it”, he considers, cleaning her wound delicately. Taking note of her surprised reaction, he adds with a smirk, “I read your file. You’re not the only one who did the homework.”

After a moment of silence, she speaks up again, solemnly, “when we’re done with this, I’d like to make it up to you.” Randy sits up against the headboard with his help, now grinning, “how does pizza sound?”

His chest feels funny as Jack catches the look on her face. The offer sounds genuine and he smiles. “I’d love that. Your call on toppings.” When her bandage is finished, he puts the med-kit away in the bathroom cabinets.

“That’s right, I make all the decisions”, Johnson pushes his shoulder lightly as he sits back down, making him raise his brows but laugh along. “You learn fast. I can see why they talk so much about the analyst down the hallways, now.”

“I make them talk, huh?” Ryan tries to play it off with a soft chuckle, yet the blush on his cheeks is obvious. He leans in closer to take the phone on the bed, and with their faces only inches apart, his body can’t help but linger in that position. Suddenly the atmosphere tingles with tension and his breath hitches ever so slightly. Her eyes are breathtaking.

“Your humble act doesn’t work on me”, her voice is but a whisper, the corner of her lip lifting up ghostly. “Jim gave me the rundown on you before I came here, you know? He told me not to inflate your massive ego.”

He beams, his look dropping to her mouth, “that sounds like jealousy.”

Randy laughs and now can’t hide her own bashfulness. She reaches for the bedside table and puts on her round sunglasses, looking away from him in a not so subtle attempt at denying his advances. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jack.” The girl sighs heavily, unable to stare back at him for now.

Her words were clear enough. It was a bad idea, indeed. And in spite of being visibly disappointed, his facial expression stayed blank as his phone started ringing again. It was probably Jim. He thanked the heavens in silence for that call to get him out of that situation. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment and Ryan moved away from her, pressing the answer button as he got up and left for the other room. He grabbed his jacket over the chair as he went, glancing back at Johnson before she was completely out of vision. There was a flicker of curiosity in her emerald orbs whilst Jack closed the door.

Randy went to sleep right away, in hopes to wash off the incident with Jack by rebooting her systems. Besides, she was very exhausted; so much so her bones felt like jelly under her skin. Turning on her side with all the care in the world, she shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Soon her body began to spasm and shake, sweat dripping from her forehead as she turned on the bed and hissed when her wound stung. She sat back up with a quiet gasp. The war nightmares were a normal thing to occur, but had been more frequent from the moment she landed in Prague.

On the other side of the wall, Jack leaned back in a chair as he flipped through a small manila folder. His attention was glued to the paper, but his mind wondered. The sound of Randy tossing and turning on the mattress reached him and he tensed up, closing his eyes briefly as if to block out the sounds. He stayed like this for several moments before finally forcing himself to face reality. They had been running from terrorists when they should be the ones trying to catch them, and that didn’t sit right with him. Hiding wasn’t helping them in any way, out of maybe buying some time to rethink their strategy. And with Johnson hurt, Jack saw no other option but to push things forward on his own. He called Mike November the next minute, urging him to come to the Czech Republic tomorrow. They were gonna need all the help they could get.

The hours dragged on and his thoughts kept him awake. There was no way he could sleep while Randy was alone in the other room, wounded. She wasn’t a field operative, and that meant her training would only help her so much away from him. The girl barely survived the last encounter with their attackers, all because she had been lucky enough not to be in the room they invaded first. He tried to shake off the feeling of guilt over her injury to no avail. It wasn’t serious, however it could’ve been, and the mission would’ve been compromised then. Ryan gave up on the file and sat it aside.

Regardless of not being able to figure out Randy entirely just yet, John realised he had been cultivating a fondness for her over the past events. For someone who never used a gun in her life, except maybe for her training days, Johnson kept calm and helped with what she could, no questions asked. Not everyone has that kind of self control in the face of danger and he admired her for it. She even reminded Jack of himself, somewhat, back when he was a rookie—even though he wasn’t as annoying, surely. Either way, the blonde had a grace about her. Perhaps it was that nearly youthful spirit, the playfulness even in the blink of imminent disaster. He still found it hard to believe she had made her way into the CIA without losing most of her spark by now.

His look automatically dropped to Randy’s file, right under the mission’s. He scanned through some of the notes and reports he had been doing up until now. Johnson had been with the agency for just over four years, still her work ethic was impressive, at the very least. The only negative points were personal complaints from her previous office colleagues, most of them depicting her as a “stubborn, impulsive and rebellious, but effective agent”. He chuckled under his breath. That sounds about right.

Jack flipped through more pages, going over her skills: communication, adaptability and problem solving were top on the list. His eyes glossed over the next sheet: relationships, but he quickly stopped himself and closed the envelope. He’s already overstepped as it is. Ryan put down the file and let out a frustrated sigh. Thinking back on the days before the mission, he remembered Jim’s words.

“She’s a tough cookie, but you’ll get used to it.” Greer swirls his glass of Merlot casually. “I know how it looks and trust me, I’m one of the people who doubted her from the beginning, until it turned out her intel was solid. I don’t care how she got it or why, just as long as we catch that son of a bitch Jones.”

Jack could see the concerned look on Jim’s face as he delivered his briefing. He didn’t appear so confident in the girl’s abilities as he tried to come across. And while it didn’t bother Ryan perse, he had this unshakeable gut feeling that there was a lot more to Randy than what you can see at first glance. Perhaps even more so than she let Jim himself know.

“Copy.” That’s what he said back then, nodding and staring at the table.

“And don’t even think about it”, were his boss’ last remarks as he gulped down his wine in one go. “Randy’s not Cathy, Jack. You’re there to protect her and the information she holds before Jones can get to her.” His voice sounds tight, but not really threatening. Greer’s always been a little too overprotective of the rookies. “No fooling around.”

“Jack”, Randy calls huskily. “I’m bleeding.” She complains, yawning softly. Johnson stares at the dark room and sighs, doing her best to wake up fully. “Jack.”

His eyes fixated on Randy’s picture when he heard her voice coming from her bedroom. He stood up and opened the door, flicking on the light and making his way to her bed. Her wound oozed blood under her shirt, soaking the fabric in red as it dripped down onto the mattress and he shook his head, looking at all the work he had put on the bandages now gone.

“What the hell did you do, Johnson?”, he grumbles, running for the bathroom to take the med-kit.

“I moved”, she shrugs and tries out a playful smile, but grimaces when a sharp sting hits her like a brick. “Just… hand me the gauze and I’ll clean it up myself.” She concludes, noticing he isn’t pleased.

Jack comes back with the kit and narrows his eyes, his features remaining stoic, “sit down and put pressure on it.” He grabs her wrist to help her up, moving her back to the headboard. His lips purse as he inspects the red liquid streaming from her side. “It looks even worse than before, Jesus.”

“Sorry”, she frowns and looks away, feeling guilty for making him do this again. “I really can do it, you know? I’m not a baby.”

“Really? You’re not doing such a great job at convincing me otherwise”, he states softly, his initial anger dissipating to give room for worry as he treats her injury. She doesn’t respond, adjusting herself on the pillows. “Stay still.”

Randy sighs. “I wanna talk to Greer.”

“What for? He says he’s coming.” Jack wraps the gauze around her abdomen, holding the roll package between his teeth. “There’s nothing we can do for now. Jones is onto us. We have to be extra careful.”

“Yeah, that’s not really my style”, she huffs, visibly bothered by his decision making without consulting her. “I’m calling my contact in Roztoky. He can help us move around the city without worrying so much.”

“Your contact”, Ryan sounds unimpressed, finishing off the new bandage. He looks down at his lap for a split second, then turns his gaze back to Randy. “Don’t you think it’s time you caught me up on all of this?”

“I told you everything.”

“Did you, now?” Randy glares and he stares right on, scowling himself. “All you have done so far is get on my nerves and not cooperate with the mission at hand.”

“I don’t cooperate with you bossing me around, that’s very different”, Johnson blurts out in a single breath, looking upset. “I might not be the big shot you are in the agency, but I have a right to know where we stand because it concerns my safety too. I don’t care if I’m fucking Logistics.”

Jack still glowers at the girl, but eventually softens his features. She’s got a point. “Fine. I called a friend just now. He’ll help.”

“Okay.” It’s all she says, and anticipating the end of the conversation, Jack moves to leave. Her hand touches his arm faintly before he does, “thanks.”

Nodding, he steps away and closes the door.

♡♡♡

When Jim told Randy to get on the next plane to Prague only days ago, something inside of her shifted. So far she had been carrying this intuitive sensation that no matter what she did, the guys higher up would never take her warnings into consideration. And then, just as Johnson gave up and decided to do things on her own, Jones bombed a US Embassy in Europe, and announced he would keep on doing it until he was either killed or caught. Overnight, all the letters the girl sent the director of the CIA were answered and in less than a week, they stationed her and Jack in Prague.

“Wait for further instructions. As of now, Dr. Jack Ryan will be assisting you”, was the last email Greer typed. And with that, Johnson flew with the so-called doctor to Europe. She knew all about Jack’s successful streak with Suleiman, then Venezuela and Moscow, of course. The tales of “the analyst” often made her chuckle whilst spooning her salad, since people were unable to hide their admiration—and sometimes, even envy—for Ryan as they shared his stories on lunch break. Nothing much happened on Logistics, so that had been their entertainment for a long time. Until things became erratic with the Prague bombings, that is.

Looking back now, everything happened so quickly. Randy didn’t have a chance to take it all in. The rush was similar to her days in the army, when she had to get moving around with no time to think or feel. There was the goal and the path she’d be taking towards it, nothing else. She saw the same mindset in Ryan right away, even if their approach was fundamentally different. The blonde reckoned the Marine Corps could be stricter and, as a result, more demanding than military service. That is also why, although not hitting it off well from the beginning, she tried her best to remain friendly with him—which could include being annoying every now and then, sure, but that’s beside the point. They both possessed life experiences not too far apart that deeply shaped them into who they were today, for better or for worse, and that meant something. Jack was her.

Only grumpier and square.

Staring back at the table, Randy resumed eating her meal. Pancakes were her favourite dish, no matter where she was. And again, she felt lucky enough that Jack’s remorse made him go out of his way to try and fetch her some from the downstairs cafeteria. His friend Mike was funny, funnier than Ryan—not that it was hard—and she had a great time while they chatted over a nice American breakfast in Central Bohemian, Czech Republic. It almost felt as though they weren’t being chased down by assassins, and she hadn’t nearly been hospitalised for an infection in her bullet graze only the night before.

“So?” Randy smiles brightly at Mike, urging him to speak after she briefed him on the situation. Jack had been quiet until now, because he was boring, so she took it upon herself to catch Mike up on the whole deal. If his laughter at her stupid jokes was anything to go by, she’d take a hunch and say they built a strong bond already. If only things could work like that with Ryan. “You think you can help us, Mikey?”

Michael can’t help but snort, oscillating his eyes between Johnson and Jack, who’s still eyeing his empty plate in thought, “where did you find her again?”

“Don’t ask”, Ryan finally sighs and Randy shrugs, eating her pancakes happily. He looks at November seriously. “I’m gonna need you to call your guy. We have to be in the same place as Jones, hit him when he doesn’t expect it. We’re running out of time.”

“I’m on it”, Mike nods, then glances at the girl with a grin. “How about you, sweetheart? Ready for some grown up action?”

Jack rolls his eyes at this, but Randy laughs out loud. She’s yet to get used to being treated like a damsel in distress. “Hey, I can throw a punch! Don’t let Jack poison your mind. He’s just butthurt that I got intel working in Logistics that he couldn’t as a field agent.”

“Ouch. That hurt even me.” He snickers and Ryan stands up, putting his gun inside his pants. Mike follows suit. “Just right down to business, huh?”

“I told you, we don’t have time”, Jack takes a look at Randy, who’s watching them with her chin on her hand, smiling. He clears his throat and touches her shoulder lightly, “we’ll be back before dark. Try not to hurt yourself while I’m away.”

They hadn’t mentioned the little incident last night, but when his touch found her skin, Johnson’s mind made its way back to his closeness hours prior. How he ogled her lips with no shame whatsoever, and how eager he seemed for breaking the rules for her, so to speak. It was a nice change in pace for the Jack she had come to see around that period. It also took her an enormous amount of self-control not to jump on him right then and there, however there were more important things at play. If only she wasn’t such a professional.

Randy renders a hand salute, mockingly. “Aye, aye, sir.”

Mike smiles at Ryan. “I like her.”

As they left, Johnson sighed and stood up, going for the burner Mike brought with him so they could communicate. She called her boss in Maryland and gave him a summary of the mission, explaining Jack’s plan thoroughly. They found a way into Jones’ charity event tomorrow, courtesy of Mike’s contact. If everything went well today, she would be face to face with her target in just a few hours. Her orders were loud and clear: shoot to kill. Placing the device down, the blonde took a deep breath, looking out the window at the clean, welcoming landscape of Horoměřice.

She was never a fan of big cities, despite being born in Los Angeles. The nice and quiet suited her better, so leaving Prague, notwithstanding she wished for better circumstances, was actually a relief. Away from the hustle of the capital, she could think more clearly. And the thought of coming back here after the operation made her happy. The people were nice and very comprehending of her ignorance of their culture—albeit she did speak a little Czech, but had to pretend not to, for the sake of her cover. Ryan still had to think she was the sweet and rebellious rookie; at least until she got the job done.

A few blocks away, contemplating the clear, blue sky also, Jack caught himself appreciating the view for longer than he intended. The small things were ever the anchor he needed to keep moving forward, especially in this line of work. Whenever he was on a mission, time went by in a rush, and the only way to alleviate that feeling was to focus on the here and now. Nature could calm him down like nothing else, but as he watched the trees moving along with the wind, the green of the leaves slowly merged into emerald eyes he now came to know too well. Putting his hands in his front pockets, he took a peek back at the old building behind him and Mike walked out of it.

“Please, tell me you got us in.” Jack practically begs, watching him come down the stairs. He had been talking to his guy for over fifteen minutes while Ryan waited outside.

“Did I ever let you down?” He grins, showing his phone with a party invitation on the screen.

“Don’t make me say it”, Jack beams and nods, checking the time before heading to the car with November right behind. As they get in, he turns on the engine. “Jim’s getting here soon, but I might not catch him. You stay here and brief him on the plan. I can hold my own with Johnson.”

“Just like the old days, eh?” Mike puts on his belt. “The band’s back together.”

“With a new formation, but yeah”, he mutters, driving back to the hotel.

“Oh, tell me about it”, Jack wants to roll his eyes at the teasing on Michael’s voice again, but doesn’t. “Actually, you don’t even have to. It’s clear you guys are already at it.”

“Stop talking”, Ryan takes a turn, stepping on the pedal. “She’s too much. You might have noticed.”

“Sounds like your type”, Mike snickers, gaining a wry look from Jack. He shrugs, measuring up the hotel as they arrive. “But I’m sure Jim wouldn’t approve. He never does.”

“I don’t care”, Jack says somewhat defensively, getting out of the vehicle with November. They make their way to the elevator and he presses his floor. “I’m not thinking about that.”

“All these years and you still think you can lie to me, Jack”, Mike positions his hands in front of his body with a smirk, the doors closing as they’re going up. “She’s into you, though. I could feel the tension.”

Jack scoffs in disbelief at his words, his face heating up. “Please, stop talking.”

“You know, it’s none of my business…”

Jack nods impatiently, not looking at him. “It isn’t.”

“But you should go for it. Friendly advice”, Mike gives him a look before they head towards the room. They stop in front of the wooden door as he finishes, “you can thank me later.”

Ryan displayed another eye roll at Michael and got inside, finding nothing but an empty and unmade bed. He stopped in his tracks and pushed Mike down when someone stepped out of the bathroom with a machine gun. They grabbed their guns simultaneously, taking cover behind a small couch next to the door. Before either of them had a chance to shoot, the gunfire suddenly ceased and the sound of a body hitting the floor could be heard in its place. Jack frowned and stood back up swiftly with November, pointing the pistol now at Randy, who stared at them with a desolate look. Her clothes were bloody and her green orbs filled with tears.

He runs in her direction and takes the girl in his arms, whispering, “what happened?”

Johnson sobs and hides herself into his chest, clinging to him for dear life. “He said he was room service… I just opened the door and…” She gulps, crying copiously.

Jack looks at Mike approaching them, still holding her firmly. “It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

The security guards supposed to protect them were nowhere to be seen, and Ryan made the connection quickly; they must have been paid off, just like the ones in Prague. He swore quietly, rocking Randy’s body to try and calm her down. She was shaking like a leaf, but appeared not to be hurt. The crushing weight of guilt hit him once more as he shut his eyes tightly. He shouldn’t have left her alone again. Brushing her cheeks, he cupped her face and wiped off her tears, causing her to smile. She squeezed his hands, as if to confirm she was really okay, and his heart skipped a beat. But as soon as their foreheads touched, the moment was interrupted by November.

“I thought you were a rookie.” Mike hums in confusion, staring at the dead body in front of them while checking his vitals. The guy had a broken neck and arm. He adds, his brows furrowed in her direction, “where did a rookie learn how to kill a guy with one move like that?”

Randy freezes in Jack’s arms and he feels it instantly. He studies the cadaver for a second before turning to stare back at her. He looks lost at first, but the mere prospect of all his suspicions being true causes him to take a step back. He inquires, demanding an explanation, “Johnson?”

She stands there paralyzed, and eventually raises her hands slowly, as a sign of surrender. Ryan points his gun at her again in the blink of an eye and her breath hitches. “Jack, please…”

“Who are you?” Mike chimes in, as his friend’s too shaken up to say anything. His gaze is hard and menacing, nothing like the lighthearted gleam of this morning.

Johnson closes her eyes, shaking her head. “Jack…”

“Who the fuck are you?!” Jack snaps, pressing the barrel of the pistol to her forehead, his hazel orbs now glistening with tears.

Johnson’s desperate face turned into a cold one all of a sudden and she disarmed him easily, pointing Ryan’s glock right back at him. He looked at the girl shocked and hurt, but lifted his arms up in reflex. They stayed in that position until Randy sighed when Mike aimed his own weapon at her. She dropped the firearm and unloaded it masterfully, throwing the rounds on the ground whilst glaring at Jack.

“I’m not your enemy.” She spits, her voice strained with anger. With that, Johnson storms off.

November still tries to go after her and Ryan steps in front of him, holding his shoulders. “Let her go. We got a job to do.”

Mike watches as she gets into the elevator down the hallway and snorts, “well, you did say she was too much.”

♡♡♡

Jack walked into the event with grace, making the bar his first stop. Mike kept humming a song in his earpiece, but it didn’t bother him as it should, since his mind was elsewhere; lost in blonde locks and lying green eyes. He had no idea where Randy had gone to, and aside from not wanting to think about it now, his bitter side also wouldn’t allow him to care as he did before. She wasn’t some helpless chick doing a brave thing for her principles, after all, like he initially thought. Johnson had her own interests and her own set of skills—which he obviously didn’t know anything about—to achieve them. She’d be fine without him.

“Here he comes”, Ryan mumbles as Jones appears in the VIP section upstairs, surrounded by security and other people he assumed were his associates. He drinks his glass of whisky in one go and keeps his eyes on his target from afar, inspecting the perimeter stealthily. “Please, tell me Jim’s there. We’ll be needing the cavalry soon.”

Instead of Mike’s reply, a familiar voice he hadn’t heard in a few days reaches his ear and Jack tenses up. “Where’s Johnson?” It’s Greer’s first question. No greeting, no nothing. He sighs, trying to think of an excuse not to talk about this now, but his boss is insistent. “You might wanna tell me if you want your cavalry right away.”

“She’s gone”, Ryan growls, not sounding as casual as he would’ve liked to. He strolls towards a group of women and smiles charmingly at them, blending in. They quickly make a gesture for him to come closer and he obliges, muttering on his way, “she left yesterday.”

There is a pause, then Greer mouths, “what happened?”

“She’s NSA”, he says amidst another deep sigh, forcing a grin when one of the girls pulls him to dance.

Jim didn’t respond and Jack went along with the brunette, always maintaining Jones in his rearview. He wasn’t aware if Greer was too surprised to say something or just didn’t care—seeing as he had been the first one to tell him Randy was only as important as the information she held, anyway. As long as she kept feeding them her intel, whatever happened to her afterwards was irrelevant to the agency. As far as anyone knew, an employee from Logistics should’ve never been on the field with them in the first place. And even in the face of Johnson secretly working for another organ entirely, which was the case, whilst representing a conflict of interests, Ryan reckoned she had been useful enough. At the end of the day, that’s all that mattered. Maybe she’d try to stop him from getting Jones just to put the credit on the National Security Agency’s office, but they would still get Jones. She’d serve her purpose, either way.

As soon as Randy left the hotel, Jack dialled up a nerdy kid in Langley, Josh, who happened to be a self-proclaimed fan of his and asked for a small favour. All the facts he had about Johnson was the Californian accent—unless she was that good at her job, going as far as creating such a round persona for her cover—and a nearly faded tattoo she had on her lower abdomen: 345-27-720. Ryan saw it for the first time when treating her wound, but thought nothing of it. Everything about her appeared so innocent, it went unnoticed. Now, remembering the way she aimed his own weapon at him without hesitation, he felt a bit proud of his photographic memory.

It was a long shot, still he tried. And the results of the background check didn’t disappoint as they came just minutes before he had to leave for the party. According to California’s military records, the social security number belonged to a Miranda J. Brooks; white, American born, 26 years old, Second Lieutenant with a bachelor’s degree in Strategic Intelligence. The only catch was: Brooks was officially dead for over six years now. The death certificate only mentioned she was killed in combat somewhere in Afghanistan. She had no close family except her grandmother, Mary Brooks, who lived alone in Arizona. And the only thing he could register listening to Josh vomit all of that on the phone was how well she pretended to be such a clueless, defenceless girl while having this background. It only made his admiration for her stronger. And Jack hated it.

He somehow learned about that NSA program a few years back, but didn’t dig deeper on the matter. It wasn’t in their policy to have field agents capacitated in combat—which had been the reason why people in there butt heads with CIA operatives in the past, many a time. So, they allegedly started recruiting deserters and otherwise discharged soldiers to power their own task force, an effort not to be so dependent on the FBI or the State Department anymore. And while Ryan wasn’t sure if it was even a legal practice, he wasn’t a lawyer, therefore that part didn’t concern him. What he couldn’t figure out was why Brooks would fake her own death for this, or have her death faked by the agency itself. Besides, there was no record of a discharge anywhere. It didn’t add up and as soon as Jones was out of the picture, Jack would go looking for answers.

“Wanna go upstairs?” The woman dancing with him grins drunkenly, grabbing back his attention.

Ryan wrinkles his nose involuntarily when the smell of alcohol hits his face and pulls away politely, faking an apologetic expression. “I’m taken, sorry.”

The woman huffed and pushed him, stumbling back to her friends. Jack watched in silence and frowned as his eyes caught a glimpse of Jones disappearing through a hallway with his men. He warned Mike of his position and followed them suit, the adrenaline already pumping into his veins when he came up the set of stairs and stepped into a quieter area. Ryan took out his gun and pointed it to the ground, sneaking after the terrorist from a safe distance. Hiding behind a wall, he checked his rounds and looked ahead, running back the strategy in his mind.

“Nice suit”, a smooth tone startles him and he holds the pistol at the direction of the sound, gulping faintly when his gaze meets Randy’s—or rather, Miranda’s.

“What are you doing here?” He lowers his weapon, dragging her behind the wall with him. She’s wearing her usual clothes, and he almost wants to scold her for not even trying to act the part now. When she only smirks in response, Jack tightens his grip around her arm. “Stop playing games, Brooks. I already know everything.”

“You’re so predictable”, she chuckles and harshly shrugs him off, albeit her beam stays. Randy looks up, pretending to be in thought, “although, I didn’t think you would let me go so easily. I thought you’d fight for us, Jackie.” She says dramatically, then laughs.

Ryan’s scowl grows deeper, and he snarls, “Look, I don’t know what your angle is, but if you fuck this up, I’m coming after you next. I don’t care who you work for.” He holds her wrist forcefully and she can’t contain her own glower, trying to shake him off again, this time unsuccessfully. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”

“Have you, now?” Johnson hisses and lifts her chin defiantly, his hot breath reaching her cheeks as his nostrils expand in pure rage. “If you were being honest, you’d have reported me to your superiors last night. You didn’t.”

“I have more important things to do”, he grits his teeth when she raises a brow, clearly not believing a word he says. “Now tell me what you’re doing here. I’m not gonna ask again.”

“I told you, I’m not your enemy”, Randy takes a deep breath, her features finally softening. Jack’s grip is looser now, but he keeps glaring. She sighs and tilts her head, cooing, “I know you’re mad at me for lying to you, Jack, but this is my job. You of all people should understand.”

The worst part was he did. Jack saw her and felt like staring into a goddamn mirror every time. He truly, genuinely saw her—no matter who the fuck she even was at that moment—and his body acted on its own as he pulled her by the collar of her shirt and devoured her mouth mercilessly. Ryan hadn’t a clue who he was kissing right now, the rebellious rookie or the dead soldier; all he knew was those were the smoothest lips he ever tasted, and he wasn’t letting go just yet. His tongue made its way between her teeth and he heard a gasp before Johnson pushed him against the wall and pressed herself on him, unashamed of who could see them.

“Jack, focus.”

Jack ignored Mike as his back hit the cold concrete with a quiet thud. His deep groan seemed to only fuel Randy’s desire and she licked his bottom lip, now guiding the kiss. He panted when her skilful hands dropped to his pants and in a sudden glimpse of clarity, Ryan grabbed her wrists to stop her, but with no brute force this time. She pulled away from the kiss to give him a playful look, her chin completely red with lipstick as she tried to catch her breath, and he wiped his own face unconsciously. They both stared at each other for two seconds before bursting out laughing. He placed his free palm on her hip, bringing her body flush to his again.

“Jack?”

November’s voice sounds like white noise as Johnson hums smugly, “okay, big man.” Jack’s flustered features cause her to giggle and she opens her mouth to speak again, then shuts it at once when a few men carrying rifles appear in her vision, observing them from afar.

Ryan’s eyes follow hers and he tucks Randy behind him instinctively, turning off the safety on his glock. “If you have a gun on you, now’s the time to use it.”

“You don’t really think we can take them? We’re outnumbered, greatly”, she scoffs, doing her best to hide his weapon from the bodyguards’ view with her body. She presses herself against Jack and he offers her a puzzled look when her hands carefully put his pistol back into his pants. Johnson brushes her lips on his and he gladly accepts the caress, shivering from head to toe. She whispers, biting his bottom lip, “act drunk.”

“Pfft”, Jack wants to protest that poor excuse of a plan, but it’s too late as the men are now only a few feet away, watching not so subtly. He sighs and palms her butt without warning, getting into character, and fakes a loose smile. “How’s that?”

“Perfect”, she bends towards his touch, kissing him sloppily. Jack squeezes her ass cheek softly in reflex and a moan escapes her. “Jesus…”

“Jack, what the fuck are you doing?!”

Mike screaming in his piece brings him back to reality and he stares at the ceiling before eyeing her. “I don’t wanna spoil the mood”, Ryan gulps, still rubbing her waist slowly as he tries to get a hold of himself. He clears his throat, “but what’s the endgame here? Take out the voyeurs?”

Randy chuckles and holds his hand, taking him towards the empty hallway again, away from the party. Before they leave, she senses the men are following them. While they stumble side by side surrounded by red painted walls, she mumbles, “there’s a door to your right over there. This is where Jones makes his deals and he’s trying to close one right now with the Russians.”

“I thought you said he gave up on it”, Ryan trails off, maintaining her close to him by wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Because that’s what I heard, he changed his mind today”, she slows the pace, pushing him to the wall once again with a grin. “I bugged his office while you were away with Mike yesterday, forgot to tell ya.”

“How in the world…”

“And they almost caught me, that was the mess you found”, Randy continues and Jack’s mouth remains agape. She shrugs, pecking him casually, “you play a good drunk, by the way.”

“Were you gonna tell me any of this if we hadn’t figured it out on our own?”, his tone sounds defeated, almost like he’s still hurt. But should he be, really? She said it earlier; Ryan of all people couldn’t judge her for lying. “Would you trust me?”

“Well, I’m telling you now”, loosening up his tie, she puts it around her neck clumsily. “What do you think?”

He smiles. “I think I hate your games, but sometimes they’re fun”, he grabs her by the hair and brings her into another quick kiss.

A loud sound, similar to an explosion, came out of the main room and Randy gasped in surprise, dragging Jack away from all the rubble and the dust. She coughed while running through the wreckage with him, and Jack took it upon himself to protect her face, covering it with his hand. He tried calling for Mike, but he couldn’t hear the answer amidst all the screaming and chaos going on around them. Soon the first shots were fired and not knowing whether it was the police or the terrorists, he took the lead and pulled out his gun as he knocked down the door to Jones’ office, supposedly. They entered the room and were met with the man glowering, his bodyguards ready to open fire.

Ryan stays alert, aiming his pistol at him and muttering, “Mike, where the hell’s the cavalry?”

Michael snorts, seeming out of breath. “I think your NSA friend can answer that better than me.”

Jack frowns, shooting a look at Johnson. She appears calm, calmer than she should be in a situation like this. However, just as he’s going to question her about Mike’s affirmation, Randy takes out her gun at last, but doesn’t aim it at anyone. He furrows his brows, “care to fill me in here?”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Ryan”, Jones chimes in with a heavy accent, eyeing Randy for a moment, solemnly. “And nice to see you again, miss Johnson.”

“You know each other?” Jack blinks, holding his weapon tightly, his knuckles becoming white. He turns off his safety, now raising his voice, “someone better tell me what’s going on here or I’ll shoot, I swear to God.”

Jones made mention of speaking up again and a door behind him opened to reveal a tall blonde with two other men surrounding him. Randy knew that was her chance and took the shot without so much as a second thought, hitting the stranger on the forehead. Everyone stood shocked, except Jones. The terrorist’s guys yelled at Johnson to toss her firearm and with one hand gesture coming from him, they went silent. She eventually lowered her pistol and sighed, studying the pool of blood around Viktor’s bald head before she took a look at Jack, who seemed as confused as he had been the day prior.

Johnson approaches Jones and nods, her expression serious. “Thank you. You’re free to go now.”

Jack widens his eyes and quickly steps between them, still pointing his weapon at him. “What the hell are you doing, Randy?!”

“I’m sorry, Jack. That was the deal.” The girl hugs her own body and the Czech police finally appear, screaming at everyone to lower their guns. “I’m sorry”, Randy glances at him one last time with a hurt look before she leaves and Jones and his men are cuffed and taken away.

“Jack, are you okay?”

Staring at the dead body still on the ground, Ryan places his hands on his hips, in a pathetic attempt to process what just happened. He stands there for a few seconds, then turns around to step out of the building. “Please tell me she wasn’t in on it, Mike.” He begs in a murmur, measuring up the destruction caused by the explosion earlier. “And where’s Greer, too.”

“I’m right here, Jack.” Jim sighs on the other end. “Don’t worry, Johnson’s not compromised. She was just following her orders.”

“Which were?” He kicks off some dust, finding his tie under a broken block of concrete in the hallway. It must have fallen off Randy as they ran.

“Catching Viktor Vasiliev.” Jack walks among the damage with a sour face, closing his eyes when he finds the woman he danced with earlier that night. She’s dead. Greer adds, “he deals in chemical weapons and was the one behind the Prague bombings all along. Jones was her informant.”

“Catching?” Ryan deadpans. “She killed him, Greer.”

“Those were her orders…”

“You knew about all this.” Ryan reckons, with a more consternated tone as he cleans up the dust off his tie and gets out of the main room—or what’s left of it—, trying not to think of the medics tending to the dead bodies as he passes. “You knew it and you didn’t tell me.”

Jim grunts, “I only found out when I arrived here and the NSA director gave me a call explaining everything. You already had your plan, Jack, and I know you well enough to say with confidence that you would have gone with it anyway. No matter what I said.”

He scoffs, shaking his head at Greer’s words even though he can’t be seen. Reaching the sidewalk, Jack sees Randy is talking to a police officer from a distance. She’s laughing at something he’s saying while Ryan purses his lips, unable to take his eyes off her figure. “Now what?”

“Now we’re going back to Langley. Our job here’s done, we helped as we could with manpower, but the intel was solely NSA’s. It’s their case now.”

“It has always been.” There’s bitterness in his words, and his scowl is inevitable when he remembers everything. All the lies. “What about Jones?”

“He’s coming with us. He made a deal.”

Jack sighs, looking down at his shoes. “And Johnson?”

Jim pauses. Ryan watches as Randy disappears in a police car without looking back, and he can’t ignore the lump in his throat when the answer comes in his ear, “Johnson who?”

♡♡♡

Randy’s always been in love with Arizona. There was just something about the quietness of the desert, and the way the roads stretched endlessly when driving back home. She hadn’t seen her grandmother in such a long time. A real nice scolding would be the first thing waiting for her as soon as Johnson opened the door to her granny’s trailer, she just knew it; yet it only added to her anxiousness to finally seeing the iconic “welcome to Phoenix” sign on the side of the road.

Singing a tune along with the radio, she thought back to what she left behind in Europe a week ago. Deciding to quit had been a big step for her, but she was never happier to make a decision. She’s always hated jetlag, anyway. And whenever Johnson saw Jack again, if ever, she would just have to thank him for indirectly leading her to discover this. Turns out the adrenaline wasn’t doing it for her anymore. And albeit it was all she had known until that point in her life, maybe it’s time for a change. Prague taught her as much. Even through the moments of tension, somehow connecting to some ex-Marine’s need for the hustle of going after the bad guys made her notice that deep inside, she was tired of it herself. That didn’t mean switching to “normal”—hell no.

Quieter, mayhaps.

A deep sigh escaped her lips and she shook her head at no one in particular, rolling down her windows and smiling as the wind hit her face. Reciting the lyrics to the song a bit louder now, she turned the volume all the way up and stepped on the pedal, patting her door from the outside to follow the beat. Love’s never worked out for her even as Miranda Brooks back in the day. So there was no surprise on her part when the brief romantic getaway with Jack Ryan had a tragic ending—and by tragic, she meant not being physically able to say goodbye to him, face to face. “I hope you’ll understand someday”, was the email Randy sent, and off she went to the States, in a flight separate from his.

With Jones now in custody—his deal was merely to reduce his sentence, since he did actively help plan other bombings before deciding to do the right thing after Prague—, everything should be fine. Except nothing felt like it, not to Randy. Being jobless and alone was a new thing, so she reckoned it was just a matter of adjusting. Taking a peek at herself in the rearview mirror, the girl thought of changing her hair. The last time she’d been a brunette was prior to enlisting. Another deep sigh left her throat as she rolled the window back up and turned off the radio.

Who was she kidding?

No amount of pretending not to care would save her from feeling like the worst person in the world. The whole thing with Ryan was just too fucking much, funnily enough, even for Johnson. Which was beyond her in itself, because lying to people came easy for her, it had to, since it was what she did for a living. But reminiscing about the disappointment in his eyes when she killed Viktor in front of him made her stomach turn every time. How did she come to consider his opinion of her that much? Randy had no clue. Still, she stubbornly persisted in the idea that everything happened as it should have. She accomplished her mission and Jack accomplished his, too. She was well and breathing, after all. He did his job. And without being deceitful, unlike her.

“You bitch!” Granny exclaims as soon as she spots her granddaughter’s car on the road. She’s in front of her house, wiping her hands with a kitchen cloth as she comes down the little steps before Randy even pulls up.

Laughing out loud, Johnson gets out and runs toward her, squeezing the old woman in her arms. “Granny! Oh, God. How I missed you. You look so beautiful.”

“Liar!” She chuckles, but her eyes are filled with tears. Staring at the rusty pick-up truck behind them, Mary shakes her head in disapproval. “I can’t believe you’re still driving that piece of shit, Miranda. That’s why you never visit your grandmother anymore! You’re probably afraid it’s gonna explode on the way.”

“Shut up, she’s family”, Johnson giggles and kisses her white hair, still holding her close. The scent of home made her heart flutter in her chest. She teases, “c’mon, I’m hungry. You better have made me pancakes!”

“Oh, he did!” Mary hums happily, opening a grin from ear to ear, and Randy raises a brow in inquiry. She shrugs, walking to the trailer along Brooks. “Your friend. He said you were gonna meet him here.”

“My friend?” The girl frowns and touches the gun under her jacket automatically, but as soon as she takes it out, her alert eyes spot the so-called friend sitting on the little couch, sipping a coffee, and stops in her tracks. “Jack?” Johnson breathes out, astonished.

With a shaven face and a sweet smile, Ryan blinked slowly at her. Her knees suddenly went weak and she took a step back, trying to take in his presence. It hadn’t been so long since she last saw him, yet it felt like an eternity. He wore a baby blue shirt and some jeans, and her mind took note of how casual he looked out of his work persona. Her mouth stayed agape as she searched for the words to speak. They all ran out on her.

“You don’t look happy to see me”, Jack finally murmurs in amusement, causing Mary to exchange a knowing look with him as he stands up, putting his hands in his front pockets. “How are you, Randy?”

“I’m…” She trails off, even more baffled by his soft and amicable tone now. She really thought he hated her guts. “Jack, I…”

“She’s better now, dear, that’s for sure”, granny chimes in before she can finish, doing a thumbs up.

Randy’s cheeks go red and she widens her eyes. “Granny!”

“What? I’m old, but I notice these things, Miranda. You like the boy.” Mary smiles and now Jack’s the one blushing and laughing awkwardly. “And he likes you too, for that matter.” After giving Johnson another one of her teasing looks, she points outside and pats Ryan’s shoulder softly. “I’m gonna leave you two alone now. You go talk and make up, otherwise there’s no pancakes for nobody.”

Randy can’t hold back another laughter as her granny steps out of the trailer with the tray full of their breakfast. She’s really not kidding. Glancing at Jack again, he’s still slightly flustered, crossing his arms while raising a brow. Johnson squints, “what?”

“An email? Really?” He asks, his expression wry as he sits back down, resting his elbows on his knees. It’s almost comical how big he looks in that position, especially seated on her grandmother’s small couch. “A text would’ve been warmer.”

“I didn’t wanna hurt you again, Jackie”, even though she tries to make light of it, there’s a sincerity to her words that’s hard not to notice. Taking a seat beside him, Johnson leans back and sighs. “You know, I quit the agency.”

He figured as much, especially because Greer seemed a little sad when questioned about Randy while they had dinner last night. Ryan smirks, not wanting to miss the opportunity, “which one?”

Johnson snickers and nods, comprehensive of his sassiness. “Both, actually. I’m a civilian now.” Looking down at her boots, she bites her lips in thought.

His orbs fall to her lap, his voice going lower, “why?”

“I miss my granny”, Randy smiles and shrugs, tilting her head. He hums along and she comes a little closer, resting her chin on his shoulder. Jack sniggers, his hand flying to her knee in response. “How about you, why did you come here?”

Jack paused and his breath hitched. He should’ve seen the question coming, but somehow didn’t prepare for it. Why did he come, really? It was lost on him, if he was being honest. There were a lot of points left unexplained about her that still bugged him; like the illegal task force run by NSA, or even why Johnson was pronounced dead and given another identity when she hadn’t even been discharged. What did she do while working undercover for two national organs at the same time, exactly? What were her real motives, her ideals, her drives? Ryan knew this was his chance, perhaps the only one, to clear things up with Randy. However, with green orbs watching him expectantly, his common sense turned into goo.

“To say goodbye, properly.” Jack’s aware he sounds a lot huskier than necessary, closing his eyes when her face comes nearer. He stammers, gazing at her intensely, “you think I’m allowed that much?”

She clicks her tongue in jest, giving a head shake. “Jim’s not gonna like it.”

“Greer gave me the rundown on Randy Johnson.” The corner of his lip curls up as Jack goes in for a tender kiss. He whispers, pulling her into his arms, “he never said anything about Miranda Brooks.”

Randy’s grin got bigger as she let herself be held by him. Much was unsaid between them, but in her experience, there wasn’t a thing in this world that couldn’t get sorted out through a nice chat and some pancakes in sunny Arizona. Besides, who was to say the change she needed in her life wouldn’t be brought by Jack Ryan in his shining armour?

#jack ryan x reader #tom clancy's jack ryan #tom clancy's jack ryan x reader #john krasinski x reader #john krasinski #jack ryan x female oc #tom clancy's jack ryan x female oc #jack ryan

25 notes · View notes