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a-boca-do-inferno · 7 months ago

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manners (jack ryan x female oc)

summary: “I heard a lot about you.” Méndez tilts her head to study his features. “The Marine turned analyst turned American hero.”

warnings: swearing, smut(fingering, butt stuff, oral, slightly bdsmish), angst, enemies to lovers(sorta), terrorism, violence, blood, suicide mention

words: 2.4k

Being a terrorist is tough shit. Not that Grace cared for the work—her ultimate goal was ever present in her mind, after all. Those who had taken everything from her would soon pay for all the pain she endured all these years. But sometimes, exhaustion crept in her core. That was one of those times.

“God, just shut the fuck up”, she sighs, shaking her head at one of the goons her employer had found on E-bay, most likely. “Get this over with by tomorrow. I don’t wanna hear about Jack Ryan anymore.”

Grace knew who he was, it was impossible not to with the work she did. Jack was one of the self-proclaimed “good guys” who embodied the war on terror, and that made him her worst enemy by default. She had taken this path because of life’s circumstances, it’s not like she longed to be a terrorist from an early age, but Méndez wasn’t letting some boy scout destroy everything she built in the last five years so easily.

Somehow he had tracked one of her accounts overseas, more specifically on Curaçao, and had been breathing down her neck ever since. And with Ryan only getting closer, nerves were starting to be a problem in the organisation—she was surrounded by weak men with no control of their emotions, so that wasn’t a surprise. Looking up at the cloudy sky, Grace kissed her crucifix and closed the windows to her hotel room. If everything went according to plan, Jack Ryan would be dead by morning and no longer a threat to her empire.

Obviously, that didn’t happen. Waking up slowly, the first thing Méndez saw as she opened her eyes was the barrel of a gun pointed in her direction. The cold metal touched the tip of her nose and she raised her hands in reflex, staring at Jack’s face angrily. He had a similar look, except he appeared not to have slept for quite some time, his skin dripping with sweat, blood and what appeared to be mud.

“Rise and shine.” Ryan hisses, pressing the pistol on her nose slightly harder before putting it down, hazel eyes still watching her like a hawk. “Get up. Get dressed.”

Grace remains silent and obeys his commands, slowly sitting up and putting on her robe. “Am I being arrested?”

“Not yet.” He states with a tight voice, as if he’s containing himself from snapping at her. “First, you’re gonna confess. I wanna know everything.”

“Don’t we all?” She fakes a smile and he frowns more. Grace leans with her hands on the mattress, crossing her legs. “I assume you killed my men?”

“They’re incapacitated.” Ryan corrects with a sarcastic tone, sitting beside her. “Most of them, anyway.”

“I heard a lot about you.” Méndez tilts her head to study his features. Even covered in dirt and blood, his orbs look so… hypnotic. “The Marine turned analyst turned American hero.”

“Don’t make me blush now”, he mumbles nonchalantly, and that makes her giggle. “Skip the introduction, Méndez.”

“As you wish”, Grace shrugs and takes a deep breath, staring at the white wall in front of them. “I would have died for this country. I believed in it with all my heart, until it killed the only people I ever loved. My family. And for nothing.” Her voice falters and she sits up abruptly, but Jack takes her by arm, stopping her from walking away.

“Really? That’s your sob story?” He hardens his jaw and pulls her closer, their faces almost touching. “Your friends died on the job and you killed thousands of innocents as revenge? What about holding the actual people responsible for their deaths accountable?!”

“What kind of fucking world do you live in, Jack?!” She screams right back, and his grip on her arm tightens. “Do you really think those guys sitting behind desks, signing death reports are ever gonna pay?! They meant nothing to them! They’re numbers! Just like the people I’ve killed. I’m giving them right back.” She finishes with resolve, glaring at him.

Jack scoffs and lets go of her, shaking his head in disbelief and pure rage. “Do you hear yourself? You sound crazy.”

“Maybe I am. I don’t expect you to understand. You still believe the shit they feed you.” Grace spits on the floor and Ryan’s nostrils expand for a split second before he pushes her against the wall, holding her neck with his forearm. “Do it. Fucking do it!” She struggles, widening her eyes and digging her nails into his skin. Jack steps away angrily and growls in frustration. “What are you really doing here, Jack? If you won’t kill me, then why are you keeping this charade?!” Méndez gasps for air, supporting herself on the mattress.

Jack turned away from her for a moment, raking his hands through his already messy hair and exhaling deeply. He spinned around to face Grace again, taking slow and calculated steps towards her. The agent grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, their bodies almost pressed together. His face was filled with hatred and tiredness. He’d been running after her for four days now, and his current mental state wasn��t his best. Pulling out his gun again, Ryan grazed the barrel over her abdomen until it reached her cheek.

“Maybe I should do it.” He whispers against her neck, his voice dripping with anger and frustration. “I should just kill you and be done with this whole thing.”

“Why won’t you, then?” She shoots right back, her eyes filled with tears, albeit her expression is as hateful as his. Jack’s gaze falters for a moment, and she’s not sure whether it’s from her tears or her words. The woman is trembling against him, her wrists desperately trying to free herself from his grip.

Pause.

“I don’t know.” Jack mutters through gritted teeth, his hands tightening around her arms, pinning her against the wall. He feels the sudden urge to pull away from her, but instead, his body moves on its own and he comes even closer. His weapon stays pointed at her, poking her cheek slightly.

Grace’s breath hitches and there’s the hint of a smirk on her lips, “you do know.”

Another pause. Ryan threw his pistol away and it fell on the ground with a heavy thud before he cupped her face almost delicately, joining their mouths in an urgent, sloppy, aggressive kiss. He pushed Méndez against the wall harder and deepened the contact, their teeth clashing against each other from time to time. With a growl, his palms reached for her waist, pressing her abdomen flush to his. And just as quickly, in a sudden lapse of reason, the agent broke the kiss and took several steps back, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

Jack swallows hard and tries to speak, but the words feel like sandpaper in his throat. As Grace catches her breath in silence, her dangerous eyes glued on his figure, he gulps, “no.”

“You…”

“Shut up.” He grumbles and turns her around harshly, cuffing her with a swift movement. From this angle, her nipples appeared slightly under the crevice of her loosened robe, but he shook his head and looked away. “You’re under arrest, Grace Méndez.”

She only scoffed as Ryan pushed her toward the door, opening it and walking with her down the stairs. They reached the parking lot and he shoved her into the car, cuffing her to the hand brake in silence. His gaze couldn’t bear to cross hers as he stepped into the vehicle and started driving, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he attempted to forget what happened just minutes prior. Still, Jack kept stealing glances at the woman every now and then, and every time his eyes met hers, he would look away. Her hair was messy and her robe remained loosely put on, making it impossible for him to not steal peeks at her supple chest.

He clears his throat, breaking the awkward silence. “We’ll be at the base in about twenty minutes.”

“No rush.” She says with a sarcastic smile, her tone defiant and somewhat unbothered. As they stop at a light, Méndez quips, “that was your first time, huh?”

Jack sighs heavily and his hands grip the steering even tighter. “Shut it, Méndez.” He spits, avoiding her gaze once again. He can feel his blood boiling at her mocking words. After a beat, he swallows hard and forces himself to look back at her, his curiosity getting the best of him. “What makes you think that?”

“You are the ultimate boy scout. Surely you’re not going around kissing terrorists on the job.” Her voice is casual as her orbs fall on him for the first time, her chin up. “Unless it’s all an act?”

“Jesus, will you just shut it?” Ryan grits his teeth harder, his foot unconsciously speeding up the car.

Grace can’t help but laugh, and as she glances at the volume on his pants, she murmurs huskily, “pull over.”

Jack freezes momentarily at her words, his breath hitching as his trousers only get more strained. He shoots her a brief warning look, keeping his eyes on the road. “Shut. Up.” He growls again, but the desperation in his voice betrays him.

Méndez’s free hand creeps up his thigh suggestively, undoing his zip without much ado. “Pull over.” She insists, this time much softer, offering him an almost fraternal smile. “Let me help.”

Ryan let out a surprised huff at her skilful movements, biting the inside of his cheek as his foot pushed harder on the gas paddle. He quickly swerved the car off to the side of the road, amongst some woods, and stood statue, glaring at Grace in a mix of ire and necessity. She grinned once more and eyed her cuffed palm, causing him to shake his head vehemently.

“No.”

“I need two hands to do the work.” She hums with furrowed brows, yet her demeanour is of someone who’s negotiating any ordinary deal.

The agent looked up, perhaps somehow trying to find the answer to his doubts in the orange sky. Jack let out another impatient huff and his eyes darted down to her cuffed wrists, his hands clenching into fists. He cursed under his breath and glared at her, his mind debating on the choice he’s about to make. With a heavy sigh, he reached over and unlocked the cuffs with a quiet click.

Grace grunted in a quick acknowledgement of this show of trust, kneeling on her seat and leaning down towards his lap carefully. As she did so, her robe fell off ever so slightly, exposing her bare butt. Jack hesitated before rubbing her soft flesh in small circles as she bent over more, pricking up her ass in the air and moaning in approval. His cock throbbed under her hand as she squeezed it, oozing his pre-cum and licking the tip teasingly. He shut his eyes tightly and groaned, gripping the wheel until his knuckles were white.

“If you keep this up, I’m gonna cum”, he says through a shaky breath, giving her right cheek a playful, loud slap.

She chuckled deeply and finally swallowed his veiny meat, bobbing her head up and down rapidly. He threw his head back in ecstasy and let his rough digit enter her tight, spasming hole at last. He felt her tensing up around his index and gently started poking it in and out of her ass, using his pinkie to smear the wetness over her puffy lips. She groaned in approval, moving her other hand around his balls to give him a slow massage. His whole body shivered and he smacked her buns again, this time more aggressively, leaving his handprint on the smooth, pale skin.

Fucking the very person he was assigned to arrest wasn’t on his plans, but as a wise man once told him; you can’t really plan on the heart—or in this case, on the penis. And Ryan now not only knew it, he even commended himself for his own self-awareness while Grace choked on his dick, her warm throat assaulting him shamelessly. He kept his gaze up ahead on the desert road, and the sun was already coming up at the horizon. Soon that moment would end and they’d have to go back to real life. He wrinkled his nose at the thought, trying to concentrate on the way she swirled her tongue on the pink tip skilfully.

How could the worst woman he’s ever known make him feel so good, pleasuring him with her mouth like that? It felt criminal—well, it was, he corrected himself in a passing moment of clarity. Still, his large hand groped her ass again as he came like a fountain in her lips. She sucked him dry until the last drop of cum and sat back up with a smile, her chin glistening with saliva and semen. Jack gulped quietly and nodded in acknowledgement, offering her a silent “thank you”.

“Is that how it goes?” Méndez laughs, wiping her face clean with a tissue she found in the glove compartment. “Where are you manners, Dr. Ryan?”

Jack snorts, blushing a little. “You’re right.” He clears his throat and straightens up, putting his belt back on and turning on the engine. “Thanks.”

Grace smiles and helps him out with his pants, their hands bumping. He looks up and finds her mischievous brown eyes; so different from the cold ones he came to know through file reports and TV’s breaking news. “What now?”

“I don’t have to tell you”, Jack sighs, yet his voice has no animosity at all, despite the blunt nature of his words. They know how this will go. They knew from the start.

Grace only hums in response, putting on her belt too. “Then I reckon I won’t see you again.”

“I don’t think so”, he gets back on the road, stepping on the pedal. He grabs the pair of cuffs and hands it to her, not taking his attention off the street. “Put them back on.” She obeys, clicking the round metal around her wrists once again. But just as she’s gonna speak, the vehicle comes to halt and she raises her brows, giving him a puzzled look. Jack closes his eyes for a few seconds before he opens her door at once and gesticulates outside. His voice is gentle, but firm. “Go.”

Grace left without hesitation. He watched as she ran into the woods with her hands cuffed and couldn’t help but chuckle dryly to himself. Jim always wanted his job, anyway. Might as well give him an early Christmas present.

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

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a-boca-do-inferno · 1 year ago

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trying wasnʼt enough (jack ryan x reader)

summary: Absence is a funny thing. It implies history and every story has to come to an end. Inevitably.

warnings: angst, fluff-ish, swearing

words: 1.6k

notes: based on the bell by first aid kit. lol bye

I tried hard to be brave

I tried hard not to be afraid

But trying wasnʼt enough

(y/n) sits on the edge of the bed as Jack walks across the room, carrying his packed bags. He stands in front of her, appearing tired and annoyed, “why do you always have to make me feel like the villain?”

“Oh, that’s right, how dare I”, she scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief and anger. “Because you’re the hero, aren’t you? How dare I question you, how dare I criticise Mr. Perfect?”

He sighs deeply, expanding his nostrils and looking away. This is going nowhere, they both know it. Dropping his luggage on the floor, Jack leans down so his face is level with hers. He speaks slowly, carefully, softly; like someone explaining something to a child. It only fuels her ire further. “You’re not being fair. What I do in the agency is important.”

“When are you gonna understand that I have the right to feel angry at this… this situation?”, her voice is but a whisper, breaking in her throat as the words come out. His brows furrow in something reminiscent of remorse, but it’s ghostly, nearly invisible. “Maybe I’m not being fair because this isn’t a fair situation.”

“And what’s fair to you?” Jack comes closer and stares into her eyes, his demeanour full of displeasure albeit he’s clearly containing himself. “Just because you don’t see me, doesn’t mean nothing’s going on. I’m doing this for us!”

“You being here with me, that’s fucking fair!” She shouts with a frown and Jack remains silent, his gaze unreadable. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t even flinch this time; his orbs hard and sharp as she adds, “that’s what I deserve.”

When being brave simply isn’t enough, what more is there to be? Resentful. (y/n) felt like anything she did inevitably led to her drowning in her own ocean of resentment towards Jack. His blue shirt now hung from the chair, moving with the soft wind coming from the half open window. He had left in a rush, something to do with the mission of the moment. She grew used to it; being second to his duties as an agent. If she called him a spy, he’d get angry and shut down for a whole week. Things only slightly went back to normal after he took her out for dinner. His career had always been an issue between them, because when he willingly leaves such an important part of who he is a secret—no matter how many euphemisms John’d find for that word—to his partner from the beginning, it means he set his priorities straight even before she occupied any position in his circle. First work, then her. And as it was from the very start, so was the end.

How could he be so distant, she wondered, yet so overbearing at the same time? Washing the dishes in silence, she reflected on the occasions he’d left her feeling weak and defenceless in his presence, surely thinking he was doing quite the opposite. She understood his protective nature to an extent, sure; being a Marine and now a field agent came with its own set of triggers and traumas. He lost a lot of people he cared about, and it seemed as though caring about her was like reliving—or rather, anticipating—every pain he ever felt when losing someone. But even though she held such empathy for his struggles, his behaviour left her at a crossroads. Jack was too busy with his work to go to therapy and work on himself, after all. She never felt quite any opening from his part for her to even dare suggest it, anyway. It seemed so trivial in the face of the things he had to endure for the “greater good”, as he had called it time and time again. The girl left out another heavy sigh.

She was dating fucking Captain America.

(y/n) places a washed cup on the sink and stares at it, her mind spiralling into the last two years of her life with Jack. Her eyes fill with tears instantly and she takes a deep breath, trying to pull herself together. When people leave your life, it shouldn’t be such a big deal. They have always come and gone, haven’t they? But the word “missing” does describe the stupid feeling very well. It’s not the longing for them, it’s the quiet laugh to that stupid joke she’d tell everyday that isn’t there now. What was once just isn’t anymore and when people leave, that’s exactly what happens; they’re somewhere else, not with you. And so there’s this insistent empty place which was filled not so long ago. The clock on the wall keeps ticking and the candles on the table melt all the same. Nothing happened, yet everything’s gone.

“Don’t do that”, Jack murmurs in the back of her memories. His words keep echoing like the sound of a ghost. He torments her every time she lets him. And she lets him more often than not. His glance is still slightly angry, but now also buried in desperation. He didn’t want to leave. It was clear and she couldn’t see it through her tears. “Please, don’t do that.”

“You’re never here anyway”, that was the last thing she ever told him. And just like that, he was gone the next day. “It won’t change anything”, was the quiet addition, after he closed the door behind him. Such a fucking lie. How could nothing change, really, when he was the reason for everything?

Walking towards the bedroom, she can’t help but laugh humorlessly at the things neatly organised. He cleaned it all prior to leaving this morning and a sad chuckle escapes her lips again. Back when they were in Moscow, she noticed right away he would be the type to drive her crazy over some dirty laundry on the floor. And she was right. They often had little arguments about domestic stuff, yet somehow, those were the best moments she could’ve spent with him. Going back and forth all day, teasing, bickering like two children was strangely soothing to her heart. Perhaps it meant that he was fallible, just like her; he could be picky and stubborn and annoying too, as opposed to his sober and unmoving nature, always in control. And it was like a breath of fresh air, to witness John let himself feel things even if for a period of time.

“Come here”, Jack coos as he pulls her closer, burying his face in her hair and sniffing deeply. She’s still a bit annoyed about their debate earlier, but he’s feeling cuddly today, rocking her body back and forth with his. There’s a playful beam on his features as he mutters, “stop being so stubborn, that’s my brand.”

“You have a lot of them”, she sticks her tongue out and he laughs soundly, tickling her side. (y/n) gasps and tries to escape his grip to no avail, big long arms holding her firmly in place. She eventually gives up and his lips meet hers in a gentle, delicate kiss. Her heart flutters in her chest as he squeezes her body, smothering her as he ever did. A small smile shows on her face and he follows her as they exchange a knowing gaze. “I love you, Dr. Ryan.”

He pecks her gently, caressing her chin, “I love you too, silly.”

Could it be that those shared moments with Jack always felt so utterly overwhelming because it was a rare thing to occur? Her stomach turned at the faint memory as if someone had been playing with her guts and she took a step back, leaving the bedroom and slamming the door. Every single thing in this house now reached her senses like poison and she just wanted to scream.

Running towards the backyard, her eyes fell on the little bedside table Jack had been working on. He made a habit out of doing woodwork and it wasn’t finished yet. She sat on the floor and studied the piece of furniture thoroughly, even though her knowledge of carpentry was about the same as her knowledge in maintaining a long distance relationship: fucking nothing. But just as she’s going to let herself drown in tears one more time that day, (y/n) hears steps coming from behind and turns her face to look at Jack standing tall, leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed.

He’s frowning, but seems more sad than mad at this point. “Are you gonna finish that for me?”

She snorts despite herself, eyeing the wood parts still waiting to be put together. “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to call Greer for that. I’m no carpenter.”

That gets a small laugh from him and he sighs. “I’m sorry, (y/n)”, Jack blurts out after a few seconds of silence. She stares at the grass under her feet as he approaches, sitting beside her with his elbows leaning on his knees. She can’t tell if he’s looking at her, but his hot breath hits her cheek as he continues, “if anything, I’d like you to know that I tried.”

His words sting. They sound soft and broken at the same time, and when she glances back at him, his gaze is so gentle. Ryan searches her face in deep thought, studying every inch of it as he’s used to and (y/n) simply nods, her eyes misty with unshed tears. “I know.”

From the rust that lies deep in its throat

I hear solemn tones

The danger, the absent floors

In the silence of night, he lets me know

That I’m not coming home

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

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