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bluesbunny · 3 years

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Hello there! This is my first post and I’m not even sure I’m doing this right but I’m trying. Anyways! the lack of blackguard fics personally offends me so I’ve decided to get off my lazy arse and try to write one myself?

Reader is not meant to be of a certain race but there are mentions of blushing one or two times!

No smut for now but cw: making out?

Enjoy?

Electricity Part 2

You weren’t an idiot. Far from one. Which is why once you heard about a so called task force, otherwise known as a “suicide squad” being recruited, you knew, you sensed, you were to be one of the (un)lucky ones to be chosen.

Ever since you were young, there was something different about you. An air of superiority seemed to surround your entire being, regardless of the fact you were a small prepubescent child. You were special. The universe knew it. And somehow you excluded it.

Though everyone knew you were special, it wasn’t until you reached the ripe age of eleven when the reason why you had acclaimed such entitlement was revealed… In such a horrible way.

It was just a normal, regular Tuesday eight or so years ago. You were outside just as you always were after a long day at school. The neighbourhood was calm, with only five other children to be seen. They were nearly all either the same age as you, older or a few years younger.

Sitting cross-legged on freshly watered grass, regardless of the fact that your jeans were slowly becoming damp, you were making a long line of daisy chains with a girl from down the road. She hadn’t seemed to mind the way you radiated strange vibes. You were just a regular girl in her eyes and who was eleven-year-old-you to refuse friendship from someone your own age? Especially someone who didn’t act like you had the plague.

You now wished she was like the others— scared to even breathe in your direction.

You weren’t so much of a talker and more than often you preferred silence. Though the girl from down the road seemed to speak enough for the both of you. And like she usually was, she was in mid rant about something to do with the farmer down the road not letting her pet the horses, her nimble fingers working haphazardly away.

You’ve always had a fairly short temper. It was just something you’ve never been able to help. She knew that. She’d witnessed the way your nose flared, the way your fists clenched and body tensed whenever something inconvenienced you, minor or not. But she always found a way to bring you back to placidity before you were able to become truly angry.

Every single time but that Tuesday.

That very normal, regular Tuesday. You had previously been frustrated with school and had planned a quiet afternoon playing with flowers. The continuation of her whines and the lack of silence built onto your ever growing frustration and no matter how hard you tried to fight it, the constant sting of her squeaky voice irritated you more than usual. On this particular day you could no longer stand it.

It was as if your frustration leaked into every single cell you had, had taken over your muscles and fused with every nerve ending. It acclaimed such mass that it became tangible in the form of electricity. Pure, unwired, electricity. It sizzled and cracked and painted your palms in such a bizarre light that was rare to be seen up so close. The girl had barely had the chance to choke on her words before the buzzing lights had jumped into her tiny chest and she was gone. The lights disappeared and her soul left in tow. No sooner than the flick of a light.

You’d murdered her on that Tuesday.

You; a child who was barely able to tie your own shoelaces, had murdered the only child your age who seemed to like you. Who seemed to want to like you. You’d murdered your only friend.

Obviously there was no way you were allowed to live as a normal human being after that. You were locked away in a place along with others who had once been “superior” but were never taught how to handle it.

Slowly, as your touch with humanity was cut sparse, you’d lost yours.

Four iron walls were your life for five consecutive years until you escaped. A new guard had become sloppy with his job and you’d wrapped both hands around his delicate neck while his back was turned and zap!

You’d killed him.

Your second murder was committed at the age of sixteen. The only difference was once it was done, you lacked the feeling of overwhelming sorrow that had previously consumed you for many years.

Locking you away had caused more harm than good.

You were completely unhinged, having lost any sentience within those four iron walls. Revenge played on your mind like a broken record, stopping and repeating constantly. You were angry. Angry at yourself for being such a mess; at the world for letting you and so many others down; and at the girl from down the road for not ignoring you like everyone else.

Your anger had spiralled into the tangible form of electricity once again. With having it forced away for so many years there was zero chance for you to learn how to control it. You were burning with the need to just let it out. Thus you became a flayed circuit. The ends of your protective rubber broke away; drowning you in temporary madness that washed up with multiple casualties. Or, in other words: a killing spree that lasted over the course of ten months until you were finally cornered and captured and sent to Belle Reve to live the rest of your life in a non-conductive collar.

Things were different there. Of course it was nothing like the life you had before, but it was something other than four excruciating, solid, iron walls.

You had a collar practically imbedded into your throat at all times, but it was the most freedom you’d had since you could remember.

And, very rarely, you were taught to control the vicious electricity running through your veins.

Slowly, you’d reclaimed a sense of humanity. You were almost human again.

After you’d come down from your episode, however, the reality of your doings had caught up with you. Fifteen more lives had been taken by your hands. Fifteen innocent lives.

Not one thing could come in contact with your oesophagus without being retched back up for weeks.

You’d become skin and bones but it was nothing compared to the mental torture of living with the blood of seventeen people on your hands.

Two more years had passed before you could say with even the slightest bit of confidence that you were better. A better person? Not in a million years. But were you better mentally and physically? Yes.

You’d come to the conclusion that you were extremely powerful; more so than you’d once thought. But with a lifetime in prison, that wasn’t really much of an excitement. You couldn’t do anything with the knowledge. Only sit and marinate in your own guilt with a constant reminder that evil ran through your veins like a live wire.

But recently, having heard rumours of the suicide squad being reformed and the knowledge that you weren’t the only one to come to the realisation of the extent of your powers, you knew there was a ninety nine percent chance you were one of the chosen ones.

And you were correct.

Two days later you had Amanda Waller banging on the walls of your cell, not giving you a chance to speak before she was barking the rules into your ears and practically signing yourself up for you.

One explosive implant into the base of your skull and a few threats later, you were waiting in the yard to board a plane that was a one way road to your deathbed.

It was cold outside, a breeze engulfed your slightly shivering form and caressed every inch of bare skin that your little leather outfit didn’t reach. There were many others standing around the jets. So many different personalities, looks and characteristics were played out before your eyes and it was strange. Your life had been so tasteless so far (minus the killings) and to see others who had pretty much been in the same boat as you cope and obtain some wild personalities was close to crazy.

From afar your eyes zeroed in on someone fairly tall and lean. He was dancing and jokingly reaching for one of the twin guns he had strapped to his chest, all in front of a guard whom kept reaching for his own gun in retaliation. You couldn’t tell a single thing about your fellow task force member other than the fact that he was clearly an idiot; the guard—and multiple others— could easily blow his face off at any second and it seemed like he saw it as a joke.

You sighed and continued to watch your surroundings. These people were some of the last you’re probably ever going to see. Your fellow criminals and soon to be fellow corpses.

“Y’smell something?” A voice came from a few feet beside you. Startled, you lose your footing, promptly stumbling back a few steps before quickly regaining control of your feet. You turned to face your company.

“What?” Your voice is curt but every bit confused.

It’s the man you were staring at before—god knows how he got so close so quickly— he gives you a crooked grin and tilts his head ever so slightly and it causes his bleach blonde hair to fall in slight tendrils across his forehead to which he languidly swipes away with his heavily armoured arm. You swallow harshly.

He gestures to your face, “It’s all screwed up. You look like you smell something bad,”

You spluttered. Half shocked at his audacity and half embarrassed by his words.

He watches as you try to regain your composure, a cocky grin taking over his features. His lips part and he teases: “You’re choking already? I didn’t even do anything,”

“Very funny, Goldilocks.” You snark, “You can leave now.” Turning on your heel, you continue to analyse your surroundings.

But he speaks up again. “Nick name bases already? Wow, okay give me a second— let me think of one now.”

You audibly rolled your eyes. What did you do in your past life to deserve such company in what could be your final moments?

“Oh come on, sweet cheeks, face me now.” He hums, the gravel crunching under his feet as he steps closer. A pause. “Actually…no.” He says, voice drawn to a lilt as if he’s discovered something.

“Yeah, no… you’re so good like that.” He murmurs and you can hear him inhale sharply.

Spinning on your heel so quickly you almost black out from the sudden movements, you caught his eyes quickly lift themselves from your sparsely clad behind. Your jaw dropped wide open.

A pout took over his features. “Awh, you’re kidding, Sweetheart. I was enjoying the view!”

You could feel, if not see your face becoming lit aflame. “I- you can’t just-“

Pale fingers reached forward to gripped your chin in a surprisingly firm hold. They lifted your jaw upwards until it closed with a snap. His finger trailed its way over the curvature of your jaw and placed itself on your lips, shushing you. He bent his head down close to your own, his lips twisted in a smirk and he murmurs in a low voice: “Just teasing you there,”

The atmosphere had changed. Your voice box had abandoned you and all you could think of was: Jesus, he was incredibly attractive up close.

Your heart was pounding as he stared at you. His eyes roaming every inch of your face.

“It’s pretty easy to make you all flustered,” he commented.

You’d never found it easy to blush. But with him being so impossibly close, his fingers leaving their lasting imprint on your skin and his voice sending shivers down your spine, you were practically crimson.

What in the world were you doing. You met this man—hardly—only a few minutes ago and he already had you melting in a puddle with a single touch.

Your eyes were wide as they stared up into his mirth filled ones. Your lips still firmly sealed by him, only it had now changed to his thumb. The digit barely caressed your bottom lip as it moved in soft, measured swipes.

His eyes seemed to fade a few shades darker the longer he watched you. Slowly, they trailed their way down your burning face until they stopped at your lips. Or rather, the placement of his thumb.

Testingly, he wiggled his thumb at the seam of your lips until you opened them slightly. He forced his thumb inside and placed it onto your little pink tongue where he held it there, placing only a tiny bit of pressure to have your knees weak.

His height had him leaning down to be eye level with you, his own becoming every bit darker as the moments passed. Watching him turn all breathy at the sight of you awakened something foreign inside of you and all of a sudden your lips were wrapping around his digit and you were sucking.

A dark groan tumbled from somewhere inside his chest and quicker than you could recognise, he had you in his arms and around the corner of the prison where you were both being blocked by the back end of one of the jets.

He slammed you into the wall, your legs wrapped tightly around his narrow waist and arms clutched securely to his wide shoulders. You gasped— the breath being knocked from your lungs at the sudden impact, but there was not a second more to dwell on it before your whole jaw was cradled in his large hand and your breaths became one.

His scent consumed your entire being. Minty with a hint of musk and you couldn’t get enough of it. He smelled so masculine and if it wasn’t for his lean body pinning you to the wall, you were almost certain to crumble.

His lips, slightly chapped and cut up, pressed against yours and your senses melted into nothing until all you could focus on was him. His hands which were groping and massaging your ass; his hips which were pressed so deliciously against yours and his head which you had cradled between your hands.

Experimentally, you let your tongue wander from your inside your mouth to tentatively lick his bottom lip. Encouraged by his tiny groan, you let your tongue wander inside his mouth to battle with his own. Foreheads clashing together and breaths being stolen one by one, it was frantic; almost desperate. Nothing about making out before a suicide mission was sweet or romantic; you were both just fuelled by adrenaline and the need to get off.

Your hand left safe grounds and traveled down his armoured body until it reached his hip. You squeezed harshly and he bit your lip in retaliation.

You tore your lips from his own, panting and barely able to get a word out, you desperately fumble with his complicated suit.

“Are you sure?” He gasps out, giving you a chance to stop before he unleashes years of pent up frustration onto your body.

“More than. Please just fuck me,” you all but whined out.

His chest heaved in rhythm with your own, you were trembling with desire.

“Fuck,”

heyyyy. this was just an experiment before I decided to get down and dirty with writing on here. Let me know if I should post a part two?? this most likely sucks and I’m certain I’m going to regret it in a week or two but oh well

#blackguard #blackguard x reader #pete davidson #reader #richard hertz #dick hertz #richard hertz x reader #pete davidson x reader

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himbovillain-anon · 3 years

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The fact that I've only written like two things for this guy is kinda unnerving tbh

Flirting w/ Blackguard on the job

How the squad made it past the beaches was something you would never understand, after all, no one had a plan, the weasel thing was already down and the team had been compromised due to some shady business

You weren’t exactly one to talk in the group, but you were admittedly curious about one team member in particular

No one has really talked to blackguard since he sold out the group, which is fair since it could’ve gotten a lot of people killed, but it was kinda tempting to ask how the hell he pulled off such a stunt

Knowing that there was a long walk ahead of you, waited a for a moment as he caught up with the group so you could ask how he did it

His first response wasn't quite what you were expecting, as he joked about how you obviously wanted to get to know him

You rolled your eyes, of course the damn bastard would think that you're trying to be a flirt, but there was no chance of winning an argument with an idiot, so you decided to move forward with the rest of the group

He picked up his pace so he could be walking next to you again, and as soon as he did he stated that he didn't mind the banter, especially with someone as easy on the eyes as you were

That second comment surprised you a bit, but the cocky attitude he had going for him was somewhat amusing, so you decided to go along with the conversation

The two of you chatted about certain things, the mission, how you ended up here, what's going to happen next, all that good stuff, but it was all seemingly irrelevant since all of the flirty banter had largely outweighed any actual serious conversation

It was all fun and games until you stopped near a campsite, and that's where all the teasing from the other teammates came in

You shrugged, for all it's worth, maybe it wasn't a bad idea to sneak away from the camp for some alone time, but that wasn't exactly priority number one

Everyone was just getting ready for bed when blackguard walked over to your spot, finally asking whether or not you'd like to go on a date when this was all over

Considering this was a suicide mission, you joked that he'd have to make it out alive first, he laughed and promised that he would, before going back to to where he was going to crash for the night

#the suicide squad #the suicide squad x reader #blackguard x reader #blackguard #richard hertz #dick hertz #my writing #gender neutral reader #anon

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idkwhattonameyhis · 3 years

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WHY IS THERE SO MUCH “RICK FLAG X READER” IN “BLACKGUARD X READER” HASHTAG PLEASE WHAT?

#blackguard #pete davidson #richard hertz #task force x #dick hertz #rick flag #rick flag x reader #blackguard x reader

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alecyoualot · 3 years

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Alexandria Roman (a.k.a. Dark Angel) is unlucky to have caught a so-called lethal hitman scarfing through her cookie jar in the dark after waking to get some water. And she is just as lucky, for many reasons to be discovered, that this said hitman is none other than Richard Hertz (a.k.a. Blackguard).

Chapter 2 is up ! A bunch more things happen here in comparison to the first. Enjoy bbys <3

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babblydrabbly · 3 years

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Trust Me Pt. 5 (Rick Flag x Reader)

[Gif]

Pairing(s): Rick Flag x F!Reader

Character(s): Rick Flag, Blackguard, Amanda Waller, and Florence Crawley, Boomerang. Brief mention of Harley Quinn and TDK.

Rating: General

Word Count: 2.5k+

Warning(s): Language, blood/violence. Guns, injuries.

A/N: Been a minute! Thank you to those still reading this series <3 Let me know if you wanna be tagged.

Pt. (1)(2)(3)(4)

Another mission, another risk of life and limb. You almost fall back into old habits— Rick won’t let you this time.

Taglist: @rrtxcmt @to-be-or-not-to-be-2021 @captainjaspenor @everythingiloveandcherish @mochminnie @chaosconcerns @oopsiedoopsie23 @malar-region @ajeff855 @monkeyyellowsunshine

“This is your name? Your full name is Richard Hertz?” You asked Blackguard, almost warily. You knew it was, you just couldn’t believe you only noticed it earlier that morning. You held up a manila folder with his mugshot paper clipped to the outside. He was holding a placard with his information in the photo, for obvious reasons. He leaned forward, squinting at his own image.

The criminal shrugged in his seat, lanky arms rising and dropping. “Yeah?”

“Richard as in Dick. Your name is Dick Hurts.”

“Well don’t say it all weird.”

You frowned. “How am I saying it?”

“You’re putting emphasis on the Hertz part.”

“Well, I’m not going to put emphasis on the dick part.” You muttered, looking back down at his file.

You heard a soft snort from behind you. Flag entered the briefing room, his stride leading him right to you. You stood from your folding chair across from Blackguard.

"You bullyin' the assets now?" Rick quipped. He held his own set of files tucked under one arm.

He was wearing the black uniform and boots he put on for squad member briefings, minus the baseball cap usually on his head. He had combed his hair back neatly, his face clean shaved. You glanced down to see the zipper of his jacket half undone, a tight black shirt stretching over his toned chest underneath it.

You shifted awkwardly in your white button-up blouse and stiff jacket— The outfit of someone whose been stuck in an office. Rick's eyes flickered over your styled hair and the analyst lanyard dangling around your neck.

"I wasn't bullying him. I was just— Trying to find out his preferred name." You said in your own defense. You hugged your stack of files and tablet to your front while he shook his head.

"Think he's fine with Hertz." Flag assured you. His smirk was both annoying and comforting.

You blinked, puzzled, when he gives you a light tap on the shoulder with the back of his hand. "Look at you. Brace free."

"Oh," You lifted your arm. Now fully healed, you smiled appreciatively up at Rick for noticing. “Yup. Reinstated."

"Harley's been askin' when you'd turn up again."

Before you could reply, Waller entered the room. She made eye contact with you pointedly, her wordless summons. Rick watched you freeze up, watched the way you broke away from him without any hesitation to join her mid-conversation.

Rick wondered a lot about you and Waller. You weren’t all Yes, Ma’am’s at every turn; He came to understand your role was to question every mission’s loose end, every piece of the big picture— But you didn’t push back the way you did with him.

You didn’t really push back the way you did with Rick— not with anyone else.

The colonel kept his sigh to himself. He’d have to worry about figuring you out later. He moved to plant his feet over by the wall as the briefing began, careful not to let his eyes linger on you too long.

As it turned out, Harley Quinn wouldn’t be on this one.

You glanced around and noted another sausage fest coming together for Task Force X's next operation. Blackguard, Boomerang, some guy in a helmet with initials for a name. You took your seat, disappointed. Quinn would have been perfect for this one.

You sat by yourself during the short meeting: Front row, in Waller's orbit. As the lights dimmed, you ran the plan she gave the rest of the room through your head again. Touch down on the tarmac, take down the plane before it gets off the ground, get out before the bad guys called in more bad guys. It was your first mission back in the field; It'd been three months since you were out.

From the corner of your eye you could see Rick, his hands resting on his belt as he paid attention.

You shifted again. Your seat felt too small all of a sudden.

Jesus— Stop looking at him for five seconds.

You had noticed the habit form after some prodding from Flo over the weeks. It started when Flag would show up to plan and get his own personal directives from Waller. He would take up a seat at one of the small desks sometimes, filling out paperwork or waiting for his meetings.

You'd heard his voice drift over through your open door, or the familiar way he would idly click a pen over and over while lost in thought. You found yourself sticking your head out of your office to catch a glimpse of him periodically. He looked ridiculous, sitting there with his little mug of coffee, the handle too small in his big hand.

Finally, he‘d return the glance, and you’d hesitantly give him a wave from across the room on his way out. He mirrored the gesture, the elevator doors closing between you.

You trailed your eyes away to see Flo staring back at you, and you dreaded the way her face lit up.

You tried to shut your office door on her, embarrassed, but she was too quick. "[Y/n]. [Y/l/n]."

"I'm busy, Flo."

"The hell you are.“ She teased. “You have enough time to wave at Flag."

You huffed at how this office was so gossipy, considering it was a black ops unit. If there was one thing about all the desk nerds around the Argus building, it was how they all seemed to be sleeping with each other.

Well, all of them except you. You were a stick in the mud, even to your fellow pointdexters.

So, naturally, you had to spend a week reassuring Flo that yes, you didn't loathe Rick like you did a few months ago, but no, you two weren't... —Flo had broken out into a grin every time you trailed off. He was still a pain, you explained.

And you still made sure you were still one too. It was too odd to change now.

You found yourself letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when the lights finally went back up. You stood as some of the squad members asked… interesting questions. Waller answered them all, to her credit. Even the stupid ones.

When you all filed out of the room, you sighed with relief, hanging back in the hallway to avoid Waller’s scrutiny for just a moment longer.

"[Y/n]," The sound of your name in Rick's baritone made you stop. You ignored the way he said it— or rather— how much you enjoy hearing it.

“Yeah, Rick?”

“Can I talk to you? ‘Bout some notes I had.” He said, already opening the door to one of the conference rooms in the hall. You followed him without needing to hear more, closing the door behind you while he switched on the lights.

"What kind of notes?” You asked.

You still had your own reservations about dropping down from a helicraft into the area like the mission plan wanted. You threw in your bid for a ground assault from a back entrance, but it was scraped forty-eight hours ago for the drop.

Rick was smiling and shaking his head as he had a seat. You shot him a curious look; Taking a seat across from him, you wait for him to elaborate.

Rick waited too. Until he saw you were being serious. He scoffed.

“I was kiddin’, [Y/n]. Just wanted to get you away from the Wall for a second.” He said. “Looked like you needed a minute.”

“Oh,” Despite a flash of disappointment, you felt your shoulders relax.

He was right. You had been following around Waller all morning and the day before in preparation for the mission. It was the 24-hour window in which you’d better have an answer for anything she threw at you, or else. When you unfurled your fingers from the paperwork in your arm you winced, the dull ache still ghosting your forearm.

“You sure you’re good?” Rick asked. He leaned back in his swivel chair, lacing his fingers together over his lap. You rolled your eyes.

“It was a hairline fracture. I’m fine.” You said. “Why? You gonna recommend me off the mission?”

“Hell no. I’m not dealing with Boomerang by myself for a third time. —I’m countin’ on his crush on you to keep him distracted.”

“Crush on me?” If that was true, it was news to you. Rick ate up the way your face twisted into a grimace. He had to be fucking with you again. You drummed your fingers on the lacquered table.

The conversation lolled, but you didn’t mind the silence. The silence with Rick had been companionable lately— And you liked the quiet of the empty room. It was a welcome break from the comms center’s noise. You felt that tired nag at the back of your skull. The one you had to ignore before it pulled you down into a buzzing sea of exhaustion.

Rick can’t imagine it. How you could consider every paralyzing possibility that could happen out there— To turn into all into spreadsheets and numbers and still dare to jump into the fray with him anyway. As much as he had to think about as team leader, he didn’t need the big picture. He had his directives, his orders, and that was it. Mission over when mission was over— If he lived, of course. But you— your open book of a face was pinched with worry, even now.

“You ever tell her ‘no’ before?” He wondered out loud. You looked up from the tablet you were always habitually checking for updates. You shook your head. You didn’t have to give it any thought.

“Have you?” You retorted.

He shrugged. “Can’t say I’m in a position to do so.”

“I… You know how it is. When she says jump…” You drag your finger over the screen idly. “She doesn’t keep slackers around. Not for long.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever slacked off in your fuckin’ life.” He laughed. Really laughed. You felt a grin threaten to break you.

“Said West Point’s finest.”

He threw up a hand, waving you off. “Jesus. That was fucking years ago.”

“It got you here, didn’t it?” You meant it in a general way, but you saw the way it made Rick pause— The way he suddenly pulled back his light smile. He drummed his own fingers on the table slowly now, glancing away.

“Yep. Got me here.” He echoed.

Shit. Did that sound like an insult? You pulled the cord in your head before you could derail and overthink it. You cleared your throat, sitting up a little more.

“At any rate. We’re both here.” You tried, shooting him a smile. “And I think my new suit might be ready for this mission.”

It pulled him out of his thoughts just like you knew it would, his brow raising. “New suit?”

You concealed you smugness terribly. Rick was always making fun of the way every member had their own look— Even him— while you always showed up in your boring military fatigues.

A hypocritical dig, in your opinion, considering you‘d seen plenty of surveillance pictures of him in his favorite American flag cap and camo jacket before you even joined Argus. You always wondered what made him change it up.

“Research and development wanted to test out a new material for tact suits— I volunteered my measurements. For science, of course.”

Rick snorted. “For science?”

Your tablet lit up with an email from Flo, and you stood with a little more pep. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

—

You didn’t get the chance to gloat for long. The moment the squad touched down on the ground, all hell broke lose— But what was new?

An air drop would be fine, they said.

You sprinted through one of the airbase’s buildings after the target, your heart pounding. As you rounded a corner, you caught some grunt’s arm right to the chest, clothes lining you to the ground. Your teeth clacked together as you fell on your back. Without waiting for him to kick the shit out of you, you brought your foot up to kick him in the groin.

As he doubled over, you heard the swift fling of a boomerang. You flinched when it sliced right through the man’s neck.

“You alright?” Harkness called from down the hall, catching his weapon.

“Fine.” You ground out.

There was more fighting down the hall, gun shots ringing in your ears. Boomer and you kept booking it down the corridor to join the others.

Rick was finishing off the last of the henchmen in the area when you caught up. He looked at Boomer, gesturing for him to continue down the hall. You hung back for Rick to go with you when he lingers against the wall for a moment, catching his breath.

That’s when you saw it— The telling patch of his uniform soaked with something even darker, the rip at the center exposing red flesh. Boomer disappeared around the other bend while you holstered you gun, catching Rick as he sank to the ground.

“Just need a minute.” He breathed. You batted his hand away from his side, kneeling beside him.

“What happened?”

“Just a knife.” He said, like he wasn’t bleeding all over the fucking place. You glowered at him, willing for him to stuff the strong soldier bullshit.

You ripped off your utility bag and quickly unzipped it, yanking out a small white kit. Rick watched you tear that open too, quickly going to work on his mess of a wound.

"That's what you carry in that bag of yours?" He said incredulously after a moment. "You brought a medkit on a suicide mission."

"I don't know if it's that drawl of yours, but I think what you're trying to say is 'thank you'." You shot back, trying to focus. He was infuriatingly calm as you fumbled with the gauze pad in your hands. Your mind raced faster with ever spurt of blood that seemed to be gushing through Rick's fingers.

"Hey," He murmured, his breathing heavier than you’d prefer right now. He reached to place his other hand over yours, steadying you momentarily. You shook at the feeling of his blood, warm and tacky, sticking to your knuckles. "Not as bad as it looks."

"Let me just— I'll just stop the bleeding and we can move." You declared. Rick seemed to recognize the determination in your face, and removed his grasp to let you work.

"What a fucking shit show." You muttered. You poured a few droplets of solution onto his exposed skin. If it stung, Rick made no point of it.

"It happens." He said, watching you.

"It's a fucking waste of resources." You snapped. You wiped the sweat and stray hairs plastered to your forehead with the back of your hand. You had to ignore the way his blood smears over your temple, the smell of it reaching your nose. "If she would just wait, instead of wanting whatever she wants when ever she wants, we'd have less losses!"

Rick flinched as you punctuated your words, pressed the gauze tape down over his side too roughly. "Shit, [Y/n]." He breathed out sharply as he gazed at up you.

You made an exasperated sound, tossing the used wrappings back into the kit. You threw it all back into your bag. You were still shaking from all the noise and blood and death. Fuck. "I'm sorry, okay!"

He smiled a little then. In the middle of World War III, Rick Flag was smiling.

You expected Rick to other give you one of his pep talks about why you do what you do, but instead, he seemed to consider something in the silence; You don't expect to hear what he says next.

“You haven’t asked me yet. ‘Bout our kiss.” He finally said softly. “Thought I put the ball in your court, but… guess it wasn’t too noteworthy.”

He said it with a kind of light self depreciation. The kind that takes your mind off the gunfire around the two of you in an instant as you stare at him, trying to find the hidden explanation as to why the hell he’d be talking about it now.

But you were panicking a moment ago, hands flying over Rick while you worried. Rick knew you a little better now; Knew that bullets were too unpredictable and that your breathing was picking up speed— You didn’t like unpredictable. Didn’t like the chaos out here in the field.

But now you’re snorting, rolling your eyes at him.

“Not noteworthy?” It’s all I fucking think about.

Rick halted and stared at you.

Fuck.

You just said that out loud.

"I—” You were interrupted — of course you were— by an explosion that rocked the entire building. No one in the squad brought any fucking bombs, so you could only imagine what everyone had gotten up to in the five minutes you and Rick had spent down here.

"I…”

“We should talk about it. Later.” He said for you, smirk returning. You made yourself look full of disdain instead of the embarrassment you really felt. It didn’t seem to deter him one bit.

Gripping his hand too hard, you helped him on his feet before taking your gun back out of your holster.

“The suit looks good, by the way.” Rick added.

#Rick flag x reader #Rick flag x you #Rick flag x fanfiction #Rick flag imagine #mywords*#dceu fanfiction #I liked to think rick was trying to look good for reader during the briefing; and she literally did not notice it was for her lmao #(Also sorry if I missed anyone who wanted to be tagged; please tell me and ill fix it!)

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luminnara · 3 years

Note

I wonder what Dick would be like trying to flirt on the lead up if the mission, trying to be smooth and cool before screaming next to Weasel. The back track of trying to be cool again after than freak out would be glorious and I would probably fall for it, lol

Dick Hertz x fem!reader

This ended up way longer than intended and I am not mad about that lol

Sfw but raunchy!

Requests for oneshots and HCs are open!

You were no stranger to the concept of the suicide squad.

Thanks to your own colorful past, and powers that you couldn’t always quite control at first, you were stuck serving out a long ass sentence at Belle Reve, the shittiest shit hole of them all. Your only escape from the mundane, high-security monotony was the occasional mission from Waller.

The Suicide Squad—more officially known as Task Force X—was the latest installment in Amanda Waller’s series of highly classified, top secret, black ops teams. She chose Belle Reve’s most infamous criminals, many of whom had extraordinary powers and even more extraordinary reputations, and tossed them together on incredibly dangerous missions. You knew she didn’t care whether you lived or died, but successfully completing such impossible tasks always cut time off your sentence, and with nothing else to do with your time, you always thought it was worth the risk.

And besides...you hadn’t died yet.

So when Waller approached you during your daily yard time, you already knew what to expect.

“Yeah, yeah.” You grumbled as you followed her into the exam room and plopped down in the same old chair. “I know the drill. I go off mission, you blow my brains out.”

“—with the explosive device implanted in the base of your skull. Correct.” Waller said, unimpressed.

“And what, you have to give me a fresh one?” You raised an eyebrow as the doctor made you lean forward. “Lose the button for the last one or something? Or are you afraid that just one won’t do the job?”

Waller looked even less impressed. “I suggest you put a lid on that attitude today.”

“Why?” You winced at the feeling of a thick needle pushing into the back of your neck. “Jesus, fuck! Seriously, how many little bombs do I need in my head?”

“Good luck, puppy.” The doctor sneered as you stood up to follow Waller back out into the corridor.

“This is a black ops mission.” She continued with her usual spiel. “Your commanding officer is Colonel Rick Flag.”

You gasped. “The Colonel Rick Flag?”

She turned to glance at you.

“I have no idea who that is.”

You could hear her sigh in exasperation. “Suit up and go outside to the transport. You’ll meet the rest of the team and fly out to Corto Maltese.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Yeah, the Suicide Squad was a nice distraction from your shitty everyday life...but putting your ass on the line for someone who didn’t give a shit whether you lived or died, and who was always hovering above the button that would splatter your brains all over the wall, wasn’t exactly the greatest feeling in the world.

Waller waited as you ducked into a room to change. There was a black box waiting for you, and upon opening it, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight of your old gear. The dark gray leather suit fit like a glove, and your gun had been cleaned and polished after your last mission, the painfully bright fluorescent lights reflecting off of the barrel with a gleam. You grabbed your gloves and strapped your ammo belts on before buckling a gray carbon fiber mask on.

Wearing your own stuff always lifted your spirits. It was the suit you’d been arrested in a few years ago back in Metropolis, and after seizing it, the feds had been nice enough to give it some upgrades with newer tech. Anything to make you a better government-sanctioned killing machine, you guessed, and it’s not like you were gonna turn it down. After all, killing was how you ended up in Belle Reve in the first place, and it was one of the only things you were good at...it just made sense for Waller to want to put your near-inhuman skills to good use.

You walked out to join her again, lugging a canvas bag of equipment and supplies along behind you.

“Pick that up and carry it correctly.” She snapped as the doors at the end of the hall opened.

“Why don’t you eat my—“

You interrupted yourself by groaning at the bright sunlight as it hit your eyes, raising a hand to shield your face as you managed to spot an armored truck waiting for you.

“You’ll have a lot of new teammates.” Waller called after you. “Be on your best behavior. I’m not responsible for anything they do to you.”

“Probably just a bunch of old farts like always!” You yelled back as you jumped up into the back of the vehicle.

Two guards sat down on either side of you as you got yourself settled in. There was another woman already waiting, her skin orange, her hair in a high ponytail that seemed to be pulled through the top of her helmet. She was regarding you with very little interest, and that was absolutely fine with you. You had a few friends within the Belle Reve prison complex, and you weren’t necessarily looking for more.

The ride was short and uneventful. You passed through a few gates that took forever to open, waited for a few security checks, the usual shit. When the truck came to a halt and you hopped out again, you were at a small airbase hosting a few hangars for planes and helicopters, one of the latter already sitting outside. Guards from Belle Reve were lining the circle of armored vehicles, and as yours joined them and the back doors were opened once more, you grimaced at the bright sunlight.

“Afraid of a little sun?” The orange woman laughed, baring her teeth at you.

“Hurts my eyes,” you mumbled, jumping down after her.

You landed on pavement, looking down at your feet in an attempt to avoid the oncoming headache you knew was imminent. When your shoulder rammed into someone, though, you had to look up anyway.

What you saw wasn’t exactly what you were expecting.

A good looking blond guy was looking down at you, a cocky grin on his face. “Whoa, didn’t realize we were getting a babe this time!”

You glared at him, grateful for the mask covering the lower half of your face.

He couldn’t see you blush that way.

“Little girl’s got some ammo, huh?” He reached for one of the belts strapped across your chest,

Your hand flew up to grab his wrist and you held him in a Vice-like grip, your glare more pointed now. “Touch me, and you can see some of it from behind your eyeballs.”

Blondie whistled lowly, relaxing his arm. “You’re tough, huh? I like that in a girl.”

You dropped his wrist and rolled your eyes. “Still gonna like it when I’m ripping your balls off?”

You could swear he was swooning on his feet. “Baby, you are a goddamn tease...”

“Oy, Dickhead!” An Australian voice rang out, “back off!”

His grin faltered for a moment, obvious disappointment flashing over his face. “Oh. Got a man already. Damn.”

“Who, Boomer?” You grinned, unclipping your mask as you turned to wave at one of your only friends. “Nah, I’d never fuck that wanker.”

“I heard that!” The gold-toothed Aussie yelled.

You let out a loud laugh as you looked back to blondie.

You were caught off guard by the actual, genuine look on his face. He was admiring your smile now that your mask was off, his eyes lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second longer than they should have. He was trying to be smooth, you could tell, and most people wouldn’t have noticed something so slight...but you were an assassin working your way through a couple life sentences, and you weren’t most people.

It all only lasted a moment before the cocky grin was back. “So, after this, you wanna come back to my cell, maybe we could, you know...” he waggled his eyebrows at you, making a hip thrusting motion you almost couldn’t believe a grown criminal was making.

“Maybe focus on not dying first, slim.” You patted his chest before turning towards Boomer, leaving blondie to stare after you—or more precisely, your ass—with a dramatic, longing look.

Your friend was regarding you with an amused expression. “Flirtin’ on the job? Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

“Shut up.” You punched his arm a little too hard and he winced. “Who is that guy, anyway?”

“Dick,” Boomer said, rubbing his arm.

“Don’t call me a dick—“

“No, dumbass, that’s his name. Richard Hertz.”

“...very funny, Boomer, but there’s no fucking way his parents named their kid Dick Hertz.”

Boomer shrugged. “Believe me or don’t, I don’t care. Either way, it’s the truth.”

You scoffed and stole a glance over at your new admirer. He was tall and pretty well built, platinum blond hair short, lips pulled back in a grin that showed off straight white teeth. He was dressed in all black, two guns holstered to his chest, and as he messed with a Belle Reve guard by pretending to reach for one, he looked like an overgrown child who should not have been allowed to hold onto firearms.

“Please tell me he’s got a cooler name,” you groaned.

“Why? So you can scream it at night?” Boomer cackled. “He goes by Blackguard. He’s pretty strong from what I hear. Prolly pretty fun in bed, too.”

You wrinkled your nose and rounded on Boomer. “Shut up.”

“You like him.” Your friend grinned. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Just remember to name your kid after good ol’ Uncle Boomer.”

You gave him a rough shove and he stumbled back a few steps, laughing like a madman the entire time.

“Hey!” One of the guards barked at you.

Rather than pushing your luck with your armed babysitters, you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. More cars were pulling up, dropping off the rest of your comrades, and while Boomer was distracted with them, you stole another glance at Dick.

He was still messing with the same guard, and was receiving some harsh warning glares in the process. Was he a complete idiot, or was he so cocky because he could actually handle it? He had to have ended up in Belle Reve for a reason. It wasn’t the type of place you went to for innocent misdemeanors. And if he was chosen for a Suicide Squad mission, that meant that his sentence was long enough to warrant risking his life to lessen it...and it also meant that he was useful.

When he winked at you, you realized with a start that he had totally noticed the way you were checking him out.

Fuck.

“Time to load up!” A voice yelled, saving you from any further embarrassment.

A few minutes later, you were strapping yourself into your seat on the chopper, pretending not to notice as Dick struggled with his seatbelt across from you. The guy sitting next to him had to help, and when you finally couldn’t help yourself, you let out a quiet laugh from behind your mask.

Dick’s head shot up to look at you, that cocky grin plastered to his face again.

“Wish you were over here helpin’ me,” he said bravely. “Rather have your hands down by my—“

“Dick.” Colonel Flag warned as he stood above you all with his gun in his hands.

Boomer let out a loud laugh at the unintentionally dirty euphemism and you snorted.

“What? Just makin’ some conversation,” Blackguard said, leaning towards you with a wolfish glint in his eyes. “You don’t mind, do ya, Princess?”

Your cheeks were heating up behind your mask, and he could see the way your eyes crinkled slightly with your smile.

God, he wished he could see your smile again.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late!” A familiar voice said. “Had to go number two.”

“...Good to know.” Flag sighed as none other than Harley Quinn herself hopped in.

“Harley!” You called, reaching for her with grabby hands as she looked for her seat.

“Hey there, baby!” The pale blonde woman greeted, slamming her equipment bag into Savant’s head. “Hey, Boomer!”

“What’re you doin’ back in prison, Harls?” Boomer asked, hanging onto the nylon mesh cage behind him as he stretched his arms out.

“Got road rage. In a bank.” She finally found a spot between you and Javelin, and as Flag checked everyone over, the chopper took off into the air.

The lighting was dim and red, the thrumming of the helicopter blades blending in with the white noise of the pressurized cabin. Save for that, it was quiet for a while, everybody either sizing each other up, or, in Dick’s case, imagining how you looked under your suit.

“So, uh...how much longer you in for?” He asked you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I don’t exactly think I should be talkin’ about sneakin’ into your cell while Flag is here to rat me out about it,” Dick grinned.

You caught the colonel rolling his eyes.

“Hey, that never stopped anybody,” Harley said brightly.

“Boutta be in a whole big ass jungle,” Boomer elbowed you in the side. “Plentya room in there to be alone.”

You groaned as Dick gave you a sly grin.

“Y’know, this mission’ll be over in no time.” He said, stretching his arms out behind his head. “I’ve got some wicked ass powers. I got this.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, recognizing the way he was trying to peacock and impress you. “Not worried about anything?”

“Baby, I’ll carry this whole team. Just you watch.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Dick.” You bit his name out as more of an insult, but he didn’t seem to care, giving you another wink.

He obviously thought that his flirting and posturing was working...but you were pretty sure he was just annoying. Cute, but annoying. Maybe good for a hook up here or there...but that was about it.

“We’re in a butcher’s freezer, Harls!” Boomer called from the other end of the bench. “Surrounded by dead hogs hangin’ on hooks. Only they don’t know it yet.”

“Leave ‘em alone, Boomer!” She called back with a laugh.

You chuckled at your friends, leaning your head back as you settled in for the flight. Harley was complimenting Javelin’s accent, you still didn’t know what TDK stood for, and Boomer was just starting to mess with him about the fact that all names were made of letters when the freaky weasel-thing next to Dick stole everyone’s attention.

It was one of the strangest creatures you had ever seen. Human height, covered in mangy brown fur, with big bulging eyes and a mouth full of sharp little teeth all made it both fascinating and concerning to look at, and as it made a few disgustingly wet retching sounds, Dick nodded towards it.

“Yo, is this a dog?” He asked.

“...What?” You asked in disbelief. He had to be fucking with you, right? There was no way he meant it.

“Is this thing a dog?” He repeated.

“A...a dog?”

“Yes.”

“What...what kinda dog do you think it is, mate?” Boomer asked.

“I dunno, I’m not familiar with all the breeds.” Dick gave him an incredulous look.

“I’m gonna go with Afghan hound.” TDK said.

“Since when does an afghan hound have bloody thumbs?”

“Oh my god, is it a werewolf?” Harley asked excitedly. “I’ve wanted to meet a werewolf for ever!”

Dick was already up and struggling against his restraints. “Yo, they sat me next to a werewolf?!”

“That’s not right,” TDK agreed as his neighbor slammed into him in his desperate attempt at an escape.

Boomer was laughing loudly, and you couldn’t help but join in. “You’re seriously scared of werewolves?”

Dick glanced up at you as he tried to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Yes, I fuckin’ am! So fuckin’—get me out! I do not fuck with werewolves, there is no fuckin’ way—“

“Maybe you should hop onto your new girlfriend’s lap!” Boomer cackled, jabbing a finger towards you.

“Poor baby,” you cooed, and as you saw the look in Blackguard’s eyes, you were pretty convinced that he was about to try to tear his way out so that he actually could.

“Hey, hey, he’s not a werewolf!” Flag yelled over the commotion. “He’s a weasel, he’s harmless! I mean, he’s not harmless, he’s killed 27 children, but I—I think we got him to—I think he’s agreed to this, so relax.”

“Thought you were super tough?” You asked as Dick calmed down and caught his breath. “Gonna carry the whole team?”

Rather than the snarky flirtation you expected, he actually looked a bit defeated. When you raised an eyebrow, though, he took the prompt, and the most desperate backtracking you had ever seen began.

“Yeah, well...” he scoffed, trying to give you a cool look. “Caught me off guard, that’s all. No big deal.”

“Off guard? Isn’t guard, like, in your name?” You teased, your smile genuine behind your mask. Alright...he was winning you over now. He was an idiot, but...maybe he was a lovable one.

He faltered for a second. “I-I mean, yeah, well...”

Flag was shaking his head. “Get into position to drop!”

Everyone unbuckled themselves and collected their things, lining up to jump into the ocean off the coast of Corto Maltese. When you saw that Dick was back to struggling with it, again, you smiled to yourself and leaned down in front of him.

“For what it’s worth...” you said as you pulled up on the metal tab, your hand dangerously close to his crotch, “I wouldn’t mind shacking up somewhere in the jungle with you.”

He stated at you with wide eyes, disbelief written all over his face. He really was cuter when he wasn’t putting on such a dumb, cocky facade, and he jumped up as quickly as he could to follow you.

You just laughed as you straightened up and walked away, Blackguard right on your heels. As the door opened and the big, dark ocean came into view below you, you felt a hand brushing against your hip and a firm chest press up against your back. You realized you could have stayed right there forever, patiently waiting to see how far he was brave enough to go...but you were both members of the Suicide Squad, and you had a job to do.

“I’ll see you down there, Dick,” you said, turning your head slightly to glance at him.

“See you on the other side, baby,” he grinned.

#dick hertz #dick hertz x reader #richard hertz #Richard hertz x reader #blackguard x reader #blackguard #the suicide squad #the suicide squad x reader

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luminnara · 3 years

Text

My ex’s best friend | blackguard x reader NSFW 18+

The reader’s had a little crush on Dick for a while, but could never act on it. Now that they’re both in prison at Belle Reve, maybe it’s time to finally do something about it...

This is sorta (very) inspired by My Ex’s Best Friend by MGK, also I made a Blackguard playlist because I’m in so deep now

PART TWO

warnings: dick is a dick, language, sexy shtuff in part two!

You know my ex and that makes it all so complicated...

“Yeah, that guy’s a real dick.”

That’s what you always used to say. Whenever your bff complained about her lame, no-good, obnoxious boyfriend, that’s how you would agree with whatever she was talking about. You always laughed at the pun, too--seriously, how was that guy’s real name Dick Hertz? At least it was fitting for him. Your friend never laughed as much as you did, instead always rolling her eyes and agreeing with you. Honestly, with the amount of complaining she did, you wondered why she even stayed with the guy—but every time you saw him, you knew the answer: he was, unfortunately, pretty fucking hot, and when he wasn’t being an idiot, he had this sweet puppy dog quality that you absolutely adored.

You got along well with him, too. While your friend was more of a goody two shoes type of person, who was always aiming higher and climbing that corporate ladder, you and Dick were both guns for hire. You had a lot in common—an appreciation for a nice firearm, a disregard for the law, a lack of common decency—but whenever he was around, you were excusing yourself as quickly as possible. His relationship with your best friend wasn’t exactly going well, and being in the same room as the two of them when the arguing started wasn’t exactly fun.

When they finally broke up, it was his call. Dick couldn’t take it anymore, he told your friend. He wasn’t eloquent about it, because how could he be? He was a rude, immature, super powered criminal whose idea of a fun time was blowing people’s heads off. He told your friend that they were done, and then she called you sobbing, and then you came over and ate ice cream on the couch while she cried on your shoulder. And, like always, you said the same old line:

“Yeah, that guy’s a real dick.”

It was a breakup that you’d been expecting for a long time, and just like that, he’d become your best friend’s ex. Was he really in the wrong for dumping someone he didn’t have anything in common with? You couldn’t really say. Your friend wasn’t taking it very well, though, mourning the loss of a relationship she had always seemed to hate. She spat venom whenever she talked about him, which was a lot, and after a few weeks, she started asking you to keep tabs on him.

Was it very healthy? No, not at all. You knew your friend wasn’t moving on very well, but you were also curious about what Dick was up to. So, you tracked him down, paying attention to the way he moved around the city at night, admiring him from the rooftops whenever you spotted him in that sexy gear of his. Did you have a thing for Dick Hertz? Oh yeah. Were you too afraid to act on it, even though he was no longer dating your friend? Absolutely.

Did you want to hook up with him? Totally. He was exactly your type, and you were both probably sneaky enough that your friend would never find out...but you felt like it would be wrong to go behind her back and fuck Dick. Wasn’t there some sort of code about that? You didn’t follow the law most of the time, but you figured you should at least follow that. You had to just settle for watching him strut around, guns and knives in hand, learning more and more about him from afar than you ever had from talking to him.

Your surveillance on Blackguard was what alerted you to his arrest. He got caught up in a job gone wrong, and next thing you knew, you were watching your friend’s face light up in glee at the news.

“About time!” She said when you told her. “I’ve been waiting for them to finally lock him up for ages.”

It made you frown. “You know I’m in the same line of work as him, right?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s right.” She shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, but alarm bells were ringing in your head.

It was only a little while later that you were arrested in a similar fashion...and whose face did you see in the court room? Your best friend’s, of course. She even testified against you, making your mercenary work seem way worse than anything you were being charged with. She talked you up so much, you got a life sentence...and a new arch nemesis.

You were seriously pissed. Of course you were. When you were transferred to Belle Reve, the prison with the notoriously high mortality rate, you were even more pissed. As you were led to the women’s side, shackled and following in a line with a few other new transfers, you were already plotting your revenge. You were so distracted by thoughts of breaking into your now-ex friend’s apartment, in fact, that you barely noticed the whistles and jeers from the male inmates as you were led through one of their cell blocks.

It didn’t seem super safe, the way they were just dragging you through like that, but nothing at Belle Reve was safe. You figured this must contribute to their staggeringly high mortality rates.

One man wasn’t cat calling, though, even though he usually did. He was too busy staring after you, at the one person he never expected to see again but desperately wished he could:

His ex’s best friend.

Dick watched you disappear through the doors at the end of the block, blinking in disbelief. How’d you even end up in there? You were always good at your job, and in the months he’d been dating your friend, he had never seen you catch any heat.

He frowned. Your friend...well, that was a common denominator. No point in dwelling on it now, though; you were both locked up, she was on the outside probably having a great time without either of you, and if he didn’t figure out how to escape a prison built to house the type of people who tried to kill Superman on the reg, Dick was gonna waste away in there. You were, too; Belle Reve wasn’t for people with short sentences, it was for people who were supposed to be locked up for life.

As he sauntered back towards his cell, Dick grinned. At least he had something to break up all the monotony now. At least he had you.

He didn’t see you again for a week. It’s not like they were ever going to let you intermingle, so he had to stay on his best behavior and hope that it would result in being let out in the big yard for rec time, the yard where all the good kids got to play. When all of his obedience was rewarded just like he had hoped, Dick found himself walking out into the sunlight, joining some of his more mild mannered peers for their usual daily outdoor time.

The yard was depressing. Dry, patchy grass dotted the cracked pavement, a few shitty looking benches placed around a shitty looking table. Some of the guys were trying to play with a deflated basketball, tossing it through a rusty, net less hoop, but with no shade to shield them from the harsh midday sun, they were all moving slowly.

Dick could care less about the prison yard and all its shortcomings. As soon as he was out, he was making a beeline for the tall fence that divided it into two sides, walking up to it and looking through the wire hopefully. The division was the reason that you had to be on your best behavior to go out in the main yard, because on the other side of the fence were the girls.

You sighed to yourself. Orange really wasn’t your color, and you had already spent a whole week wearing it. Belle Reve was hard to get out of, and by the looks of things, you were gonna be stuck in this uniform for a long, long time.

Everything about the prison sucked. The food was bad. The guards were irritating. The other inmates were dangerous. You could have been at home, going about your business as usual, but no...you had to be in America’s worst fucking jail.

At least you got to go outside. You were one of the more relaxed inmates at Belle Reve, harmless in comparison to some of the others. There were self proclaimed alien warlords, assassins, other mercenaries who were way scarier than you...you had already heard there was even a talking shark over on the men’s side.

Your reputation was enough to keep people off your back, allowing you to at least enjoy your daily hour of outside time in peace. Today, you were spending it sitting against a fence on the far side of the yard, facing the men so that you could zone out while you watched them. You didn’t feel like going too close to the dividing line and hearing all the creative ways they wanted to fuck you, but since you spent all your time with the girls, they were better for people watching.

They were boring today, though, and you leaned your head back with a sigh. You’d get out eventually, you knew you would. Whether during a raid, an explosive bust, or by your own hand, you’d see the outside world again. It was all just a matter of waiting around, and the boredom was going to kill you.

“Hey.” You looked up to see a woman standing before you. “There’s a guy over there who wants to talk to you.”

“Tell him to fuck off.”

“I’m not playing fucking messenger.” She snapped. “Blond guy. Nice teeth. Wouldn’t stop bugging me about you until I finally promised I would come over and tell you.”

Your brows knitted together. “Did he say what he wanted?”

“Again, do I look like a fucking messenger pigeon?” She shook her head and stomped away, leaving you to sit up straighter and look towards the fence across from you.

What you saw made you jump to your feet.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Dick said, clinging to the chain link as you approached.

“Didn’t know you ended up in here, Dick.” You said.

“Didn’t know you did, either.” He retorted. “What’re you in for?”

“Same thing as you, probably.” You sighed and plopped down. “Battery. Assault. Everything they could get to stick.”

He mirrored you, hunching over as if he could lean closer through the fence somehow. “Lemme guess. My favorite ex was a key witness.”

“Bingo.” You propped your chin up on your hand as you leaned on your knee. “She lost it after you dumped her. Had me keeping an eye on you and everything.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You stalked me?”

“That sounds a lot worse than it is—“

“Nah, nah. I’m not mad, I’m impressed.” He grinned. “I didn’t notice you at all. You’re good as shit.”

You mimicked his grin. “Yeah, well...still ended up in here.”

He shrugged. “With someone like that out to get you, it doesn’t matter how good you are. We didn’t stand a chance.”

Your heart jumped a little at the way he said we, and all at once, your stupid crush was coming back. It didn’t help that this was the most you’d gotten to talk to him in...well, ever, maybe. It was starting to make you shy, and it was taking all your effort not to blush and avoid his eyes.

“So, how’s life on the inside been?” He asked. “Meet anybody fun yet?”

“There’s a girl who says she controls rats. She’s pretty cool.” You pulled your knees up to your chest. “Is it true there’s a shark guy?”

“King Shark? Surprised you haven’t heard of him.” Dick laughed. “There’s tons of famous people stuck in here, from all over. Only a matter of time before somebody’s boss or goons come bustin’ us all out.”

“I sure hope so.” You mumbled. “I already hate it here.”

“Tell me about it.” He agreed. “Place fuckin’ sucks.”

“Ever thought about running?”

“All the fuckin’ time.” He rolled his eyes. “If I had my suit and the rest of my shit, maybe.”

“What difference does that make?” You asked.

“You ever see how badass my combat suit is? C’mon.”

“What’s it even do?”

He leaned back on his elbows, that cute, cocky grin on his face. “Uh, everything?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes now. “Such as?”

“Look, babe, I’m already pretty fuckin’ strong, but it enhances it. Plus, y’know...I got my cooler shit? I can make my super badass shield and mace? Outta energy?”

When you didn’t look impressed, he tossed his hands in the air. “C’mon, it’s dope as fuck!”

You let out a little laugh. “Yeah, I’ll admit that’s pretty cool.”

He gave you that lopsided grin, and you felt yourself falling head over heels for a guy named fucking Dick Hertz.

-0-

After that day, you met as often as you could at the fence. Dick was a pretty funny guy, and as you chatted about your hobbies, your favorite music, and the cartoons you both liked to watch while high, you started to realize that he was making Belle Reve a lot less miserable than it was intended to be. He was an idiot--he liked to rush headfirst into things without any hesitation--but he was starting to feel like your idiot, and even if you only ever stayed friends, at least you’d have him around.

You were pretty sure that’s all you’d ever be. He hit on you every day, but he did that with everybody, right? That’s just how he was. Dick calling you babe and sweetcheeks didn’t mean anything. It was like a...like a casual thing, and that was probably it.

That didn’t stop you from constantly replaying conversations over and over in your head, though. While you laid in your uncomfortable bed every night, listening to the woman down the hall who snored louder than humanly possible, you always thought about Dick. You wondered if he would even be talking to you under normal circumstances, or if he was just bored with prison life. You wondered if, assuming you both eventually got out, you would get to stay in touch and continue your friendship back in Metropolis.

You wondered if he stayed awake thinking about you, too.

Dick never told you that he did, because he figured he didn’t need to tell you. He assumed you were just as into him as he was into you, and finally, one day, with the sun beating down on you, he mentioned it.

“I feel like nobody likes me.” You huffed, plopping your chin down on your hand as you sat all hunched up on your side of the fence.

“Why’s that?” Dick asked as he sat in front of you.

“Well...everybody’s got their groups. Or they’re dating somebody. No one even bothers to try to hang out with me, except the rat girl. And she’s nice, and so is Sebastian—“

“Who the fuck is Sebastian?”

“—her rat. He’s really cute. But like...you’re really the only person I’ve got in here.”

“Yeah, I mean,” he said, mouth full as he took a bite of an apple he won off of somebody, “they’re probably not bothering to hit you up because you’re with me.”

You stiffened, your heart racing, but you had to keep it chill. You had to play it cool. He was staring right at you, and you couldn’t afford to embarrass yourself now. “Yeah, that’s what I said. You’re my only actual friend in here.”

Dick let out a loud laugh. “Yeah, right. Okay. Friend.”

You furrowed your brow. Had you somehow totally misread him?

“Isn’t that what we are?” You asked. “Like...we hang out all the time because we know each other, and we’re stuck in a high security prison?”

“We hang out here because it’s totally against the rules for me to sneak into your cell at night.” He smirked.

You felt like your heart had dropped into your ass.

“Are you—do you mean—“

“What? I’m not gonna be shy about it, I wanna fuck your brains out.”

You blinked at him, mouth slightly agape. “I just thought...”

“You’re my ex’s best friend, so what? Fuck, I wanted to fuck you so bad back then...” he sighed. “Wish I did.”

“Wait. Back up.” You shook your head in disbelief. “You like me? Like, seriously.”

“Uh, yeah?” He scoffed. “Aren’t we like, a thing?”

He was looking at you like it was obvious. There he went again with the whole dumb puppy dog thing.

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Yeah, okay. I guess we are.”

“You seriously thought we weren’t?” He laughed, biting the apple. “I thought you just didn’t wanna say it. Or didn’t wanna kiss in front of the guards. Or something.”

“Dick, I’m not that shy,” you laughed.

“Then do it.”

“...what?”

He leaned towards you with a wolfish grin, his nose brushing the fence. “It’s not electrified. You can do it.”

You glanced around. There were a few guards posted around the yard, but they looked bored, and they weren’t particularly paying any attention. Inmates from either side of the prison definitely weren’t supposed to fraternize, but seriously...how could you pass up a chance like that?

Your hand gripped the wire as you leaned forward, your lips meeting his as you mashed your face against the fence. He tasted like apples and the cigarette he bought off one of the guys in his cell block that morning, which you expected, but he caught you off guard with his gentleness. It only lasted a second, lest somebody notice you swapping spit, but it was the best kiss of your life.

When you pulled back, your eyes were glued to his lips. You wanted more, so much more, and you were determined to get it.

“Tonight, at maybe...three am?” You thought out loud, “there’s a guard rotation. You should go take a shower right around then.”

“Oh yeah?” He was grinning wildly, “showers are usually empty right around then, but there’s a lotta doors for you to get through if you wanna join me.”

“Don’t worry about that.” You said. “I’m a pro.”

#blackguard x reader #blackguard #dc imagine #dick hertz x reader #dick hertz #richard hertz #richard hertz x reader #the suicide squad x reader #the suicide squad

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