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#Rick flag x reader
reveluving · 6 months
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the bump in the night ; rick flag x reader
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summary: someone made Mrs Flag cry, and her family is not having it.
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, shadow-magic f!reader, reverse comfort & humour!
a/n: this AU is based on this piece I made a while back, 'cause you already know I can't do this special without hubby Rick and the kids! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ
» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!
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'For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.' ;
Coming home to his daughter's hugs had become an everyday thing if Rick didn't have to work overtime, but if the flicker of sadness in her eyes was anything to go by, something had to have happened while he was away.
“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” 
It was the same thing she told her brothers when they got home from school, and just like them, it was enough for Rick to get the whole picture.
Ah, Mrs Bedford. Or as the neighbourhood youngsters, children and teenagers alike, like to call her 'the modern witch of the road', and not in the cool way. Her husband was no better, always bugging you at any given opportunity. The worst part was Mrs Bedford always antagonized you for it, even if she knew you didn’t entertain her husband’s behaviour. It was also extremely hypocritical of her, considering she herself has tried to make her move on Rick. A lot. Only to be met with disappointment each time. 
Her children were just as bad, too, to put it lightly.
“What did she say?” It was the green light Irene needed before she explained what had happened to a T, courtesy of her father’s eagle eye. Unlike most days, it was just you and Irene visiting the park since your sons had football practice. 
The two of you were feeding the ducks when Mrs Bedford came up to you.
“You on your own?” Was the first thing she asked you before you questionably said ‘yes’, despite Irene being there too, and the little girl realized Mrs Bedford wouldn’t have gone off on a tangent about you and your ‘possibly tainted history’ if her father or brothers were around in the first place.
“I don’t know what you did but I can see it in your eyes, Flag. You’re no saint. You can fool the others with your little flower shop and your so-called angelic kids, but not me.”
Though Mrs Bedford knew nothing about your powers or your time in Belle Reve, instead, spewing hate out of jealousy and hatred for you for being the favourable neighbour, she wasn’t completely wrong. You have hurt people, you’ve even killed some, but they were for the greater good. Since your freedom from hell on earth, you’ve barely used your umbrakineses. It wasn’t until the birth of your children, to which all three of them gained your abilities did you realized you couldn’t run from who you really were—it wasn’t right nor fair to them.
Then, telling them your story as a criminal and how their dad was once your enemy was another thing. You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting, but it was certainly not amazement and sparkles in their eyes. As they grew older, they began to make sense of how their parents somehow knew people like Aunt Harley, Uncle Robert and hell, even Nanaue.
And at that point in time, Mrs Bedford reminded you of Waller, turning you into submission as you could do nothing but listen to her make a mockery out of you for turning over a new leaf. Irene had to watch your face drop as the woman insulted you, and she knew she had to tell her family about it. 
Irene insisted that she was fine about heading home early, even if you tried to convince her otherwise. She wanted nothing more than to do something about that glazed look in your eyes.
As soon as you stepped foot into the living room, a tear rolled down your cheek. You couldn't help but apologize to her, to everyone if they were with you then. You weren’t entirely sure if it was because you seemed weak over a bunch of words or their fate of ending up with you as the wife and a mother of their family.
Irene shook her head, hugging you with her face in your tummy.
"You're not a mean person, mama. You're the nicest and coolest mama we could ever ask for, and we love you." 
It was simple, something you've heard of thousands of times in your lifetime, but you very much needed it today.
Ever the sweet girl, she accompanied you as you lay in your bed, telling you random stories about what she painted during art class or what she ate at lunch, anything but the time Mrs Bedford’s son, Kyle pushed her off the swing while his older brother, Blake laughed and praised him for doing so. You didn’t need to know that. 
Not yet.
You listened with a warm smile, embarrassed but nonetheless thankful for how observant she was of your feelings before eventually dozing off. 
Irene was careful yet quick to jump off the bed, running downstairs to shush Richie and Ethan as they returned home. 
The more she explained, the brighter their eyes unnaturally glowed. Richie was starting to look like their father as he crossed his arms, listening to her like a police officer, while Ethan seemed like he was already thinking of ways to counter the Bedford’s undignified acts.
Basically, the Bedfords were not the greatest people. Each and every one of them. 
Though they had a myriad of ideas, they weren’t sure how much their father would appreciate it, even if it was for your sake. Still, they thanked Irene for being there for you, promising that something would be done, no matter what it would be.
For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.
After an unexpected nap, you came down to find your kids huddled on the couch, whispering and hushing each other. Curious, you approached them.
Ethan was the first to notice you, offering you a grin before showing you what was in their hands, “Look, ma, I think we got it.” 
You leaned in to take a closer look, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of life on their palms. There, they showed you the differing mass of shadows they conjured, a tougher one you just taught them about a week ago. You have always loved this trick as a kid, and it only aided your sanity when you were by your lonesome in the penitentiary. In a way, you were replacing what life truly was by making your own, even if they were temporary because there was no telling when or if you’d ever be free. 
Yet, here they were, prompting joy and pride as they held the wispy animals of their choice; Richie with what seemed to be an adorable little puppy, Ethan creatively emulated a bioluminescent jellyfish and Irene…
Oh, Irene.
She scarcely remembered how much you loved making her laugh by conjuring butterflies when she was still very little if not for the twins confirming it. 
The butterfly was as small as her hand, but the wings were majestic, idly flapping before flying over to you, leaving cloudy black trails and landing on your outstretched finger. 
You stared at their creations ever so lovingly, already on the brink of tears. You were just as mad at yourself for doubting your worth, and your potential, just because of the things you had to do in the past, for the sake of the person you were now.
You embraced Irene in a tight hug before pulling your boys in as well. You sniffled, absolutely joyous and blessed to be surrounded by the most loving people. Nothing could deter you from this, not even as the shadow puppy yipped and chased the jellyfish and butterfly in excitement. Your cat, Tofu, must’ve heard the commotion, too, as she came from the kitchen to check, only to be frightened and jump on the couch with you as the puppy came running to her.
Rick finally arrived about two hours later, coming home to hear laughter before he saw Irene running across the room, followed by Tofu and the shadow puppy in tow. The jellyfish laid on Richie’s head like a nest whereas the butterfly decided to make Ethan’s shoulder its home as they hung out with you on the couch.
“Daddy!” Irene greeted him before running over to him. He didn’t question the questioning look she gave him just yet and instead, hoisted her up, laughing as Tofu and the puppy pawed at his bootlaces.
“What’s going on here?” He raised his brows, amused by what could be described as a fever dream of a sight.
“The kids learnt how to make little lives.” You giggled, allowing Rick to sit next to you as you scooted over.
“And I got a new hat,” Richie gestured to the jellyfish, who he has now dubbed as Jelly. As if it understood, Jelly immediately floated away, leaving Richie’s hair flattened, “Never mind.”
You shared a laugh as he deadpanned before you turned to Rick, “Was work okay?”
“Yeah, the usual. Decorated the place today, actually.” He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery and showing you and the kids the spookily tacky decor that furnished his workplace.
“Did you really paint ‘dead inside, don’t open’ on the entrance door?” The twins gawked.
“Fitting, ain't it?” Rick joked, prompting smiles and chuckles from you once more before falling back on the couch, “But at least I’m off tomorrow, so I was thinking we could eat out for dinner.”
“Oh! We should head to Pop’s since they’re also offering their apple betty.” Ethan suggested.
“Well, I think that’s a good idea, so,” Richie trailed off, raising anticipation from the rest of you before jumping off the couch and running up the stairs. Ethan and Irene simultaneously gasped before the former took his sister out of Rick’s arms to chase their brother together. You and Rick could only watch with delight as Tofu and the shadow creatures followed them too.
“Everything okay?” He wanted to know, but he wouldn’t pry if you weren’t ready to tell him.
“Yeah,” You nodded, gazing down for a moment before continuing, “Something happened earlier but…”
“Richie! You better not lock the door or I swear to God!” Ethan’s voice rang out from upstairs, followed by Irene’s ‘language!’, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement. 
“It’s all good now.” You reassured him. You knew you could’ve told him, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on. You had children to nurture and a husband to take on the world with.
“The Bedfords?” He guessed. If it wasn’t them, then it had to be Mr Walker.
“The Bedfords,” You confirmed with a tight smile, “I’m just more upset that Irene was there to hear it.”
You didn’t explain any further and Rick took it as a sign to drop it. If they were able to make you this upset, then it was best to ask the kids instead. 
“I’m sorry,” He pulled you to his chest, planting a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead. He rubbed your back, sighing at the very mention of that family. Rick loathed that they were influential enough to be one of the higher-ups of the school’s PTA, though he was confident that money was involved in it too. He hated that they were reasons why you’d come home ranting about how Mrs Bedford bugged you again, or when he had to make sure Mr Bedford knew he was making a promise and not an empty threat whenever it involved their kids and his, "You know I can talk to them." 
It would do no good, but it was worth trying. 
"No, you know how the Bedfords are. Don’t worry, okay? Not now,” You kissed the inside of his palm before pressing your lips against his, soft, sensual and safe. Rick moved forward, deepening the kiss as held the nape of your neck. You pulled away but not before nuzzling his nose, “We should be celebrating.”
He nodded, though he knew it would only linger in his mind for a while. Still, he adhered to your wishes, standing up before offering you his hand to get ready, “Right, right. Shall we?”
You snorted, placing your hand in his the way a princess would when a prince asks for a dance. Unexpectedly, he twirled you around, wrapping his arms around you he pulled you in, chest to chest. You playfully smacked him, though it did very little to wipe off the pleased look on his face as the two of you headed to your room. 
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You and the boys were the first to head out to the front yard, chatting and evaluating the decors of the houses while waiting for Rick and Irene. 
“What happened today?” He asked his daughter quietly as they stood at the front door, helping with her shoes while she slid on a jacket. 
“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” She whispered back, swinging her arms as she watched her father tie her shoelace, “Like, really mean stuff. No one was around except us so she was kinda loud, too.”
Rick fumed, clenching his jaw as he could already hear and picture whatever nonsense she loved to spit out. 
“Mama got kinda quiet when we came home, and then she started crying. About how she’s sorry she was a criminal and how we’re ‘stuck’ with her powers.” She added. If anything, she and the boys thought your abilities were the coolest thing to have ever happened to them. 
He shook his head—who wouldn't crack after being subjected to their ways for so long? He hummed, hiding the seething resentment by ruffling Irene's hair.
"Can you help me distract your mother while I talk to the boys for a bit?" She nodded diligently, skipping over to you before Rick called out to his sons, "Need some help, boys." 
They rushed over, glancing at you before Ethan spoke up first, "She told you?" 
"Yeah." Rick replied as he locked the door.
"Can't we do something about it?" Richie asked with a frown.
"You boys are not punching Blake again." Rick reminded them with a small smile. 
"You didn't seem to mind it," Ethan mirrored his father's amusement, "He was yelling at our teammate and encouraged his troll brother to push Irene off a swing." 
"I'm mad, too," Rick was more than mad, but he couldn't let his emotions run wild, "Look, we'll think of something, alright? For now, just make sure she's happy." 
That's all they ever wanted.
The drive to Pop's was a lively one, and so was the dinner itself. Though you knew you'd be thinking about Mrs Bedford's words every once in a while, the smiles and laughter of your family were already a welcoming distraction as it is. 
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Midnight rolled around, and everyone had returned to their rooms with sore cheeks and a full stomach. You were the first to slip under the covers after a shower, hoping you wouldn't be too tired as you waited for Rick, though it didn't work.
By the time Rick got out of the bathroom, you were peacefully asleep, your face just a breath away from your husband's pillow as his scent soothed you like no other. 
Rick smiled to himself, changing into his PJs before sitting on your side of the bed. The dip roused you from your slumber just a little.
"Rick?" You murmured, fluttering your lashes tiredly.
"Forgot to get some water," He caressed your cheek before bending down to kiss it, "I'll be back." 
You mustered a closed-eye smile and before you knew it, you drifted off once again, lulled by the way he patted your back.
Once the coast was clear, he moved off the bed, silently slipping out and closing the door before heading over to the twins' room. He knocked on the door, just enough for them to hear before doing the same with Irene's door and headed downstairs.
Rick sat down at the dining table with a glass of cold water, arms crossed and lost in his own thoughts before hearing light footsteps approaching.
Richie, Ethan and Irene carefully pulled their chairs back before taking a seat, and just like that, the discussion began.
But it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere and at some point, they just started shit-talking.
"Man, I wish coach would just kick Blake out." Ethan groaned, his head falling back. 
"Tell me about it. He's shit at quarterback." Richie clicked his tongue.
"Boys." Rick warned them, partially because his youngest was listening.
"Sorry." They apologized but Irene didn't seem to mind.
"How about…" She chimed in, tapping her finger on her chin, "We scare them?" 
"Like…?" Richie cocked his head, hoping she'd say more than just that.
"I don't know, I just thought it'd be cool since it's Halloween and stuff. And, well, maybe we could use our powers, but I know mama and daddy wouldn't want that." She shrugged, pouting because she hadn't thought it far enough.
"It would be a miracle to scare them without using our powers in the first place," Richie sighed, looking over to his father, "What do you think, dad?" 
No reply.
"Dad?" Ethan followed suit as the three of them raised their brows.
“How far are you in your shadow puppet practice?” Rick asked out of the blue, staring ahead as though imagining whatever idea he had played out. 
“Uh, pretty far, I think? Ma taught us how to merge our shadows into one if we wanted to make a bigger animal.” Richie answered, earning affirmative nods from his siblings. 
“How big?” 
“Like, this big!” Irene opened her arms wide to let him know just how big of a monster they would be able to make if they wanted to. They haven’t, there was no reason to, but the more their father asked, the more it piqued their interest.
Rick thought it through for a moment. It has been a while since he has seen you make that one particular lifeform, but it was worth a shot. If it were able to render Waller speechless, then it’ll definitely make the Bedfords piss their pants. 
No actual attacks, and definitely no killings. But he’ll make sure they shudder at the mere thought of Halloween. Put the fear of God in them. They had it coming, too, stomping on other neighbours’ happiness for years just for the fun of it. 
He just had to play it safe. 
He slowly broke into a sinister smile.
“You three ever heard of a hellhound?”
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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» a/n: ahh hubby rick <3 ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡
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drabbles-mc · 7 months
Text
All Settled
Rick Flag x F!Reader (past: Rick Flag x June Moone)
For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: caught in a storm
Warnings: 18+, language, pining, arguing, light angst
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: They're aruging, they're pining, they're stuck in an airport together. We love to see it! also idk i might write more for these two eventually I'm not sure i just don't know but there are Vibes i might explore later lmao
Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon @beardburnsupersoldiers @words-and-seeds (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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It was perfect, really. Not in the way that it was good, but in the way that it happened and all you could do was laugh, shake your head, and think to yourself, “Of fucking course.”
“This funny to you?” Rick asked, clearly not as amused as you as he dropped his bag to the floor with a loud thud. It wasn’t nearly as loud as the clap of thunder that sounded right before he’d spoken to you, though.
“I mean,” you said with a shrug, also letting your bag slip down off your shoulders, albeit with less drama, “it’s a little funny to me, yeah.”
He shook his head, scuffing the toe of his boot along the tiled floor. You could tell by that and the tightness of his jaw alone that he was fighting the urge to punt his own bag across the floor. “Glad you think so.”
You didn’t let it faze you—Rick and his short fuse weren’t anything new to you at this point. “Yeah, because getting mad about it like you are seems to be so much better.”
He opened his mouth to fire back at you, but he stopped himself when he saw the traces of amusement on your face, that you were just going to take whatever he said to you in that moment and flip it right back onto him. You were one of the few people in the world that he would request time and time again to assist with Task Force X whenever he could, whenever he got enough leash to bring in an extra body on his side of things. But it didn’t make him any less annoyed with you in moments like this.
“Don’t get your panties in a knot, Flag,” you said as you dropped into one of the many empty chairs behind you. Lightning flashed outside, bright light coming through all the airport windows for a split second. “We’ll be outta here first thing in the morning.”
He shook his head, trying to figure out if he wanted to pace and be angry about the situation, or sit down next to you and be angry about it instead. His exhaustion won out just enough to get him to sink down into the chair beside yours.
“Made it through all that shit, and we get stuck on the layover. That’s,” he shook his head, “that’s just…”
“Perfect,” you finished for him with a laugh. You looked over at him, watching as he shook his head and tried not to look like he wanted to laugh right along with you. “Look at the bright side,” you stretched your legs out in front of you, crossing one over the other, “least we didn’t get stuck in this storm with the rest of the team.”
The sigh he puffed out turned into a laugh, shaking his head as he thought about the scenario you’d just put into his head. “Fuckin’ A.”
“Exactly.” You let your head drop back to rest against the top of the seat. You stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds in silence before saying, “We should’ve gotten a hotel room.”
Now it was his turn to laugh at you. “Seriously? We’ve been stuck out,” he gestured vaguely, not wanting to say exactly where even though there weren’t many people around, “you know, and you’re gonna bitch about sleeping in an airport?”
Turning your head to look at him, you raised your eyebrows and replied, “I’m off the clock, Rick—I’d like to sleep in a real bed if at all possible.”
He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “Poor thing,” he mocked.
You laughed, elbowing his arm off the rest that separated your chair from his. Like he had any right to give you grief about complaining at this point. “Fuck you.”
Neither of you said anything for a bit after that. The two of you sat there in your insanely uncomfortable airport chairs, with posture that wasn’t fit at all for the caliber of soldier that the both of you were. Both of you were watching the few people who were stuck at the airport with you. Your flight had been one of the last, but it seemed like a couple others that were scheduled to leave late got pushed off until the morning. No one was dedicated enough to getting a hotel room to go outside in the rain and wind to get a cab. So you watched everyone putting together makeshift beds of their own out of their luggage, draping themselves across chairs. Whatever it took to be at least mildly comfortable.
You’d been still and quiet for so long that Rick thought that you might’ve fallen asleep. Tilting his head, he glanced over at you to find you very much awake. Your eyes were fixed on the small cluster of people who were at the gate across from yours. Among them was a woman with two children, young enough that they thought this was all so fun and exciting.
“Why do you always say yes?” he asked you, watching you as you watched everything around you.
Your face contorted in confusion but you still didn’t turn to face him. “Hm?”
“When I put in the request for you, why do you always say yes?”
You chuckled, finally facing him. “Why do you keep requesting me?”
“’Cause I know you won’t let me get shot.”
You laughed at that, trying not to be too loud as everyone continued to hunker down to go to sleep. “Yea, I guess that’s fair.” You pulled your legs up, feet resting on the edge of your seat as you wrapped your arms so that your hands interlocked and rested on your shins. “Maybe I just like making sure you don’t get shot.”
He smiled, a tiny grin that was briefly illuminated by another strike of lightning. “Can’t like it that much.”
You arched your brow. “Want me to start saying no? Leave the big bad Colonel all on his own?”
He shook his head at you. “Not what I said. I just, I don’t know.” He crossed his arms, letting them rest over his stomach as he looked at the same place you’d just been looking. “You always seemed like you were looking to settle down. This,” he laughed, “this shit ain’t settled.”
You hummed in amusement as you nodded. “It’s not.” You paused. “I’m just, I don’t know, guess I haven’t really found someone to settle with yet. Not gonna give this up with no reason to.” You waited for him to look at you. “Lucky for you, though, huh?”
He nodded, gave you a quick smirk, but he didn’t say anything else in response. You couldn’t tell if there was more that he wanted to say. Either way, it didn’t matter much. He sunk down a little farther in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him. The heel of his boots rested just on the far side of his ridiculously large duffle bag, ensuring that no one would be able to try and snatch it without him noticing. You shook your head at the precaution—it didn’t seem like anyone in present company was going to want any of his fatigues and t-shirts that hadn’t been washed in a week. You let him have that, though. You watched as his chin dropped and tucked towards his chest, eyes falling closed even though he probably wouldn’t actually fall asleep for a long time.
“Think you’re ever going to?” you asked, propping your chin on your knees as you did.
His eyes were still shut as he asked, “Ever gonna what?”
“Settle down?”
His eyes slowly opened, muscles tensing as he processed the two-word question. “I don’t know.”
You were nearly kicking yourself for ruining the moment. Things were fine. You didn’t have to pry, but you did it anyway. You just couldn’t let things lie—it was a habit you always meant to work on and never got around to it.
“Sorry,” you said, your voice tentative in a way that it hardly ever was with anyone, least of all with Rick.
He looked at you, brows meeting in confusion. “For what?”
You knew that answering the question was just going to dig a deeper hole, but you also knew that you weren’t going to be able to ignore the question, either. Stubbornness was one of the traits that you and Rick shared.
You shrugged, wishing that you could pull your legs in farther, make yourself smaller and disappear out of this conversation. “It’s not my business. I know that…it’s just…I know since June you sorta just—”
“Got it,” he cut you off.
You fought the urge to sigh with everything in you. You were annoyed with yourself, but you were annoyed with him too. “Right.”
There was just enough of a shift in your tone to keep him hooked into the conversation, even though it was evident that neither of you wanted to continue it. “What?”
You shook your head. “I’m not doing this with you, Rick.” He went to try and argue but you kept talking before he could. “You don’t wanna talk about it so we’re just, we’re not gonna talk about it. Forget I fuckin’ said anything.” There was a long stretch of silence and before you could use any impulse control you said, “But to be fair, you asked me first.”
He sighed. “We doin’ this right now?”
“What this are you referring to, exactly?” you snapped, voice hushed. The rain beating down and echoing against the roof helped to hide some of your conversation.
“Since when do you wanna talk about that? About all my shit? About, about June?” He hesitated on it but he still managed to get the question out. You couldn’t remember the last time he actually said her name.
You were too caught up in your frustration to empathize about it though. “Are you serious?” You let your feet drop back to the floor, adjusting yourself in your chair so that your entire torso was turned and facing him. “You’re gonna sit there and pretend that I’m the one who never wanted to talk about it?” You scoffed. “Fuck’s sake, Rick. The only reason I found out the two of you broke up in the first place was because Boomer made some asshole comment and you nearly tossed him out of the helicopter. You have never wanted to talk to me about all of that. About anything, really.”
Rick’s fists were clenched at his sides, trying to keep himself from getting too defensive but you weren’t making it easy for him. You never did. He didn’t make it easy for himself, either. “Hey—”
“Actually, now that I think about it,” you cut him off, “you never talk to me about anything outside of work. You know all about me, but I don’t know shit about—”
“That’s not true,” he interjected, voice firm enough to give you pause. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
Your shoulders slumped in defeat at that. He wasn’t wrong. But you weren’t completely wrong either. You both knew plenty about each other but there were always a series of walls that Rick kept up, ones that you never got around to building for yourself. Moments like that made it hard not to feel the distance.
“Whatever,” you finally said, not wanting to give in and actually tell him that he was right.
He was still shaking his head at you as he went back to staring at his boots. “Don’t know why you care so much anyway—not like you ever liked her.”
“What? I,” you sputtered as you shook your head, “I had no problem with June. What are you talking about? I barely even knew her.”
It was true. Outside of the events of Midway City, you had next to no contact with June. Rick was pretty much her sole protective detail, hence how the rest of their entire situation played out. You were part of his team that time around too, although despite being his right hand, you were far from the top of his priority list the way that you were all the times after that when you guys handled ops together. But that was the only time you ever really spent around June, and to say that you really spent it with her would’ve been a stretch even under the most forgiving circumstances. But still, you never had a problem with her.
He let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle—either way it was full of attitude. “Right.”
You huffed, shaking your head. “Fuck you.”
You angled yourself away from him, turning your body so that you were facing forward again. Part of you wanted to get up and walk to another part of the airport. It would’ve been pointless, though. In just a few more hours the two of you would be sitting next to each other on the plane anyway. There was no escaping him until the trip was over. For a split second, you let yourself indulge in the thought that maybe next time you’d say no when he asked you to tag in.
“Should’ve gotten out when she did,” you mumbled.
You heard the sound of his clothes rustling as he turned to look at you. “What was that?”
You didn’t hesitate, not looking at him but speaking just a little louder, and a whole lot clearer. “I said you should’ve gotten out when she did.” You turned and looked at him, wanting to hit him with the full weight of what you were going to say next. “Maybe then you’d still—”
“Don’t fuckin’ go there,” he said, tone low but brimming with anger.
You rolled your eyes, slumping back against the chair. “Yes, sir.”
There were only about ten seconds between your response and him speaking up again, but those seconds felt like hours to Rick as he tried to force himself to just be honest instead of angry for once. Or at least be honest while he was being angry.
“It was because I wouldn’t give it up,” he finally said, bitterness coating his voice.
Your face scrunched in confusion for a moment before you turned your head to look at him. “What?”
“She left because I wouldn’t give it up. She wanted nothing to do with any of it after everything that happened. I got that. She was just waiting for me to walk away from it too.”
“You got into this shit for her—why didn’t you walk away?”
“Think Waller was just gonna let me walk?”
You shrugged. “Not at first. But she’d get tired of fighting you eventually.” You paused. “She probably would’ve ended your entire military career though.”
“Yeah,” he scoffed, “no thanks.”
“How long did it take her to realize you weren’t gonna quit?” you asked, figuring that if he was gonna open the door you might as well take a peek inside.
He shook his head. “Longer than it should’ve for someone as smart as she is.”
“Love makes you stupid.”
He let out a laugh, one that was one part sadness, one part humor. “Yeah, it does.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. Not on you.”
“You really love this shit, huh?” you asked, really processing the full weight of what he was telling you. Rick had turned his whole life on its head to save June. He said it himself that she was the only woman he’d ever really cared about. From the way he was acting during everything leading up to what happened at Midway City, you were certain that he would’ve done anything for her. But apparently not.
If he laughed you couldn’t hear it over the rumbles of thunder. “’Bout as much as I hate it.” He looked over at the windows for a moment, able to see the rain pelting down in the dark, then he looked back at you. “Stupid, right?”
You chuckled quietly. “That’s how you know you love it.”
“What’s your excuse, then?” he asked. “Because I know you sure as shit don’t love this.”
You rolled your eyes, smiling in the hopes that it would hide all of the thoughts that were racing through your brain because of his question. “Just an adrenaline junkie now, I guess.” You looked over at him. “Regular military ops just don’t do it for me anymore.”
He was slowly starting to let the tension drop out of his shoulders, his guard slowly coming back down as the both of you began to get back to some sort of common ground. “That’s it, huh?”
It wasn’t the time to get into it. It probably wouldn’t ever be the time to get into it. “That and, like you said, someone’s gotta keep you from getting shot.”
He was shaking his head at you, but at least this time he was almost smiling while he did it. The two of you had always had that going for you—no matter how quickly things tensed up between you, you usually managed to cool back down almost as quickly. Some of that was from all the years and hours you’d spent together, some of it was because in the situations you found yourselves in out in the field, there was no time for grudges so it was best to just let shit go if you could. But for yourself, you also knew that there was an element of not wanting to hang onto that, not with him. It’s why you’d always say yes when he asked you.
For a few seconds it was quieter than it had been. The rain lightened enough to not be echoing as it fell against the roof. The thunder and lightning subsided, and the conversation between you hit a lull. So when Rick cleared his throat, it seemed louder than it really was.
You turned to look at him and found him already staring at you. You raised your eyebrows, silently prompting him to say whatever it was that he was gearing up for. His brows scrunched for a split second, a final hesitation but he was still going to go through with it.
“We’re…?” he trailed off, his tone enough to fill in the rest of the question for him.
You smiled, nodding. “We’re good. Don’t worry,” you shifted in your chair so that you were leaning against his side, your head resting on his shoulder, “I won’t leave you hanging next time you call.”
He chuckled, wanting to shake his head and come back with a snarky remark, but he didn’t have it in him. Tilting his head, he looked over at you and for the first time in a long time, he felt a pull of something deep in his chest. A feeling that he wasn’t sure he could afford to put too much stock in. He let his head drop to rest against yours. “Thanks.”
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seancekitsch · 3 months
Text
HOT TO GO: an Adrian Chase x Reader x Rick Flag fic
Rick knows he shouldn't shit where he eats. Rick knows Waller would demote him in a second if she knew he was letting you and your de facto guard dog have special privileges on this mission. Rick knows he shouldn't take you up on your offer to play a game.
Warnings: threesome smut, drinking, smoking, slight knife kink, rick is a good man, reader and adrian are nuts, villain!reader, non canon compliant i like to play god and make people kiss, this is filthy, dirty talk, task force x neck bomb jokes, slight daddy kink, spitting, choking, reader is a little mean, its not poly but its certainly something
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You know exactly what the file in ARGUS says about you. A boring little dossier about the full extents of your powers, your record, all of your known aliases (even the embarrassing ones), your allies, and even the common ways you’ve tried to escape capture. Nothing in the little folder says anything about your observation skills. 
Nothing about how easily you pick up on phone conversations, how easily you commit to memory a glance of words on a screen over someone’s shoulder. Nothing about how you take in the tiny details, changes in expression or exactly how many things you can use in a room to kill someone in increasingly resourceful and creative ways. 
Thats how you figured out Rick Flag has a type; a type that you fit into well. You didn’t mean to overhear his phone call with Waller, but you would be using it to your advantage. 
You know about June Moone, about your dear friend Harley, and now his blue eyes settling on you as you try to get in and get out of this mission without fucking about too much. He likes his girls a little messed up. You figure trying to unseat Green Arrow as mayor through completely legal means and then forcibly reforming the prison system does it for him. It helps for you that he’s attractive; that means you don’t have to just use him, you can enjoy him too. Who knows, you might even get to know him enough to admire him as much as you admire the man who named himself your personal protector. 
Adrian Chase had apparently put himself into prison in order to talk to you, inspired by your idea of justice and progress or something. He offered protection and you’re not one to turn down a free advantage. You didn’t exactly expect to like him though, knowing the reputation he has and the awkward way he approached you at first. But Adrian was quick to win you over, and you'd spent countless nights talking to each other through the bars of your cells. You even one night tried to "go on a date" in the mess hall. His humor turns you on though, his protection lets you run your mouth without consequences. He's killed for you before, and you damn well know he'll do it again. Waller even seems to know you're a package deal, seeing as she let the two of you be on this mission together. You don’t say it, but you hope this mission gives both of you enough time off your sentences to get out around the same time. You’d love to hang out with him free, even if you refuse to say it. Belle Reve doesn’t exactly allow conjugal visits, though. 
You watch your peripherals, Adrian on one side sipping his Corona and keeping the men of Task Force X away from you, Rick on the other side with his eyes tracing your curves as you sway to the music. Adrian to the naked eye looks like he’s not paying attention to you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He sways awkwardly and scans the crowd, one eye always on you and his fingers every so often brushing against your leg. His way of checking in. Rick is more stiff, Rick is more obvious about watching you. You notice his fist clench when you brush your knuckles against Adrian’s arms. You notice how tight he holds his beer. You notice the fit of his pants. 
You catch on to the fact that Rick knows what Adrian is to you, because he only decides to make his move towards you when Adrian moves away to make two more drinks for you. 
You nod to the bar stool next to you, eyes not leaving the small crowd. Funny, you'd heard these missions are some kind of Suicide Squad, but here you were with the crew of sixteen still hanging on strong. 
“Great party, thanks for hosting,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm, although maybe you shouldn’t be too harsh on the guy. He’s not the guy that put a bomb in your neck.
“Sure,” he laughs, low and under his breath, and he clinks his beer bottle against your empty glass.
“Can I ask you something?” Rick slides up next to you at the bar, looking past you instead of at you. It’s clear he’s trying to sus out Vig, who is dancing back towards you with his two signature concoctions. You roll your eyes at the Colonel, but lean in anyway, pushing your chest closer.
“I don’t know why I’d talk to you, unless thats an order,” you snark at him, and maybe thats unfair, but it’s part of the game. 
“It’s not… don’t do that,”Rick dismisses your wide smile, the game of cat and mouse begun. You know exactly what he’s about to ask, but you have to make him work for it. 
“Why him?” he asks, eyes darting from you to the man behind you briefly. You smirk, of course he asks that. Probing, looking to see if he has a chance; thinking he’s being slick about it. Adrian turns back towards you as if summoned, his weird ability to just know making him come back as if the leash around his neck were tightened. He has another drink for you, pink and fizzy. 
You roll your eyes and grab the drink Adrian made for you from his hand, lifting it to your lips.
“Well, it was either him or Animal-Vegetable-Mineral Man,” you joke, voice deadpan as you punctuate your statement with a swig from the glass. You grimace. It’s almost all rum. Adrian is handsome but, my god, is he bad at ratios.
“Yeah…” Adrian joins the conversation eagerly, ready to agree with whatever you say before actually processing it. His eyes widen behind his thick glasses as he turns to fully look at you. He finally figured out what you were implying, and a smile slowly forms on your lips hidden by the rim of the glass.
“Wait really? But he’s got that, like, tree hand!”
You snort with laughter, and Rick cautiously laughs too. Like he’s in on the joke, you think. 
“It would be like that scene in Evil Dead, but consensual,” Adrian continues, his voice rising just like his concern. You roll your eyes at him, already expecting this reaction. Adrian talks big game about being unshakeable but you find it so easy to rile him up. 
“Calm down, Spaghetti Squash. You’re much sweeter than he is,” you pat Adrian’s cheek and he beams at you, wide mouthed and toothy and tipsy. You drag your hand slowly down his face, tracing his jaw before you let your hand fall back into your lap. 
“And Handsomer?” he fishes for the compliment, and you playfully frown at him. 
“You always ask questions you know the answer to,” you tease, and Adrian’s smile never fades. 
Rick must be feeling pretty voyeuristic right now, you think, watching two people who just plainly adore each other flirt and touch in front of him; but Rick also doesn’t flinch away from this, you notice. Maybe he likes watching. 
“He makes me laugh,” you answer your commanding officer, turning back to him finally.
“Is that a Who Framed Roger Rabbit quote?” He asks, brows furrowed, but a smirk on his face. Okay, play ball, Colonel Flag.
“See, Adrian? I told you Goody Two Shoes was a man of taste,” you glance up at Adrian again before focusing your attention back on Rick Flag. Zero in, Aim, Kill. 
“Is that how you see me?” he asks, a challenge. 
You tilt your head, a non-answer. Yes, kind of. He himself is good. Maybe too good. Thats probably why he does this silly little Icarus dance and gets too close to people who can and will burn him when they kiss. You glance down at his drink, then back at him and the light glistening of the residue of beer on his bottom lip, the way it shimmers in the light. 
Rick is handsome in a way Adrian isn’t. While Adrian is THE choice when it comes to general compatibility and attraction and survival, Rick is A choice. He’s serious, kind, and genuinely tries to see the good in everyone, even if there isn’t any to be found. He’s a gamble, mostly because he’s more willing to gamble. He would put his faith in you and hope you would be by his side even without a bomb in your neck. He’s built like Magic Mike. 
“Let Adrian make your next drink,” You tell him, lying, “He’s a master mixologist.”
Rick’s eyes move from you to your protector, whose gloved hand is now possessively on the back of your neck, right where the bomb was placed. 
“And why should I do that?” he counters. Adrian tenses. 
“Because maybe,” you grab Adrian’s hand and clasp it within yours, “We’ll let you keep drinking with us. You have my vote, you need to earn his.”
Rick laughs, and slumps back from you; his eyebrow twitches in curiosity. Hook, line, sinker. You squeeze Adrian’s hand. 
“And how would I do that?” Rick asks. 
You laugh as you take his free hand, leading both him and Adrian to another room. 
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Rick doesn’t understand this game. 
All he knows is that he seems to lose every card he pulls, and at least half of the cards you pull. He went to college enough to know this is some deranged version of King’s Cup, but he doesn’t remember a rule that lets Adrian lick rum off of your chest or a rule that means you have to pop off a round when you pull the King. 
After his third seemingly bad card, he realized you were lying about the Vigilante’s mixing abilities. He’s a heavy pour with no eye for ratios, not unlike his heavy handed and uneven idea of justice. Rick figures thats why you and that maniac fit well, both twisted and curious and reckless in the same ways. It’s attractive in you though, as much as it is off-putting about Adrian. 
Ricks eyes follow Adrian’s tongue though, wet and flat and lavishing the liquor between your breasts, watching how he leaves goosebumps on your skin in his wake. He watches as Adrian shamelessly dips his face into the opening of your vest, realizing that he would push the younger man out of the way for his own turn if you gave him permission. Rick knows he shouldn't shit where he eats. Rick knows Waller would demote him in a second if she knew he was letting you and your de facto guard dog have special privileges on this mission. Rick knows he shouldn't have taken you up on your offer to play any game, let alone one involving alcohol.  
You seem to whisper something to Adrian, his rum soaked chin between your nimble fingers and he moves away to take his seat again. 
“My turn,” you smirk as you pull the next card from the deck, flipping it to show Rick instead of yourself. 
“Jack of Spades,” he tells you. Your eyes dart to Adrian before you smile at him. That can’t be good. 
“Never have I ever,” Adrian clarifies. Rick squints in confusion.
“I thought Jacks were categories,” he says, challenging the younger man. 
“Well now they’re not,” you chime in, something sweetly venomous in your tone, daring him to keep pressing the issue. Rick is a man that knows when to back down. 
He sighs as he puts up his hand, three fingers ready to go. You and Adrian both put up a hand as well, and you start as the card puller. 
“Never have I ever… fucked Harley Quinn,” you stare him down as you wiggle your fingers, a cheap shot at him. Rick will remember that. 
It’s his turn. 
“Never have I ever… been arrested,” Rick admits, and you narrow your eyes at him as you and Adrian both put down a finger. 
There’s a bit of pride in Rick’s posture as he settles in, all of you now on equal footing. 
“Never have I ever,” Adrian starts, then pauses, biting his tongue between his straight teeth, “Worked for a government that lies.”
It’s clear that was supposed to be a dig at Rick, competition between the two.
“Ade, baby, you’re doing that right now,” you whisper to him in a soothing voice, husky but gentle. His shoulders immediately drop in disappointment. 
“So you drink,” you tell him, nudging his hand holding the glass with your knuckle. He drinks, and puts another finger down, his admittance to defeat this round. 
“Okay, okay,” you draw the attention back to yourself, despite your eyes watching the way Adrian’s adams apple bobs as he swallows. 
“Never have I ever gotten a promotion.”
Again, Rick is the only one to put down a finger. Now he and Adrian have one finger up, and you still have your two. They’re on the same level, something they both have to be painfully aware of as you eye them up like you’ll catch and cook them. 
“Never have I ever gone to prom,” Rick offers quickly, shutting up any giggle that might be on your lips as you put a finger down, now tied with the men. 
“You poor things,” you muse, but Rick can tell you don’t mean it. There’s sarcasm on your tone that makes him think maybe the movie Carrie wasn’t too far off. 
“Never have I ever been an only child,” Adrian says, quickly, like hes trying to throw the whole game away. There’s something about how he shifts in his seat that looks like he’s starting to get antsy of it. 
Only you put your finger down. You’re out first, a fact that surprises you as much as it probably surprises the others as well.
“Shit,” you swear under your breath, and take a quick swig of your drink. 
“What do you want me to do?” you ask, refusing to look at either of them, your scowl settling into your features. Right, the loser has to do something for the winners.
Your file comes to mind for Rick, and your reactions to the failed mayoral race. 
Adrian wordlessly pulls you onto his lap, and your smile returns, if only briefly. 
“Dunno about Rick, but I want you right here,” Adrian tells you, resting his head on your shoulder. 
“Well, we can keep playing if you want,” Rick offers, “Y’know, we can all lose… learn a little bit more about each other.”
Anything so he doesn’t have to see that pout again. 
Fuck, Waller’s gonna skin him. 
You shrug, and he figures thats all he’s gonna get. 
“Never have I ever had a secret identity,” Rick offers, and Adrian happily puts his finger down. He’s out too. 
“Never have I ever,” you glance between the two men, and for the first time you look like you didn’t have one loaded in the barrel, “Had… a threesome.”
Rick’s eyebrows shoot up as he too puts a finger down, finally out as well. 
“No way, who?” Adrian asks, and this is maybe the first time Adrian has addressed him personally. 
“A good man doesn’t kiss and tell,” Rick replies.
“Boring,” Adrian says. 
And then he pulls a card, as if the air in the room had not just crackled with tension. 
Queen.
“So its questions?” Rick asks, hoping the rules haven’t changed again.
“Do you finally get it?” you reply, jumping right back into the game. 
“Why did it take you so long?” asks Adrian. 
“How was I supposed to know?”
“Aren’t you military trained?”
“Didn’t you say you knew we were crazy like an hour ago?”
“Hasn’t… ugh… shit,” Rick runs out of steam the questions firing too quickly. 
“Take your shirt off,” you don’t miss a beat, shrugging, “because you lost.”
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If you had thought earlier that tonight would have gone as well this, you would have really thought you lost your mind. Adrian twitches, thrusting a little harder into you, an attempt at a poker face forced onto his face. Rick’s eyes trained on you, maybe the same way he trains his eye on a target. 
Rick leans back in his chair, in only his boxers, sweat coating his chest as he does nothing to hide the fact that he’s hard watching this display. 
Adrian lazily rolls his hips into you, your jacket partially obscuring what’s happening, but you know Rick isn’t stupid. He knows Adrian is fucking you, knows your skirt is pushed up in just the right way and your underwear pushed to the side. 
Adrian was barely subtle when he did it, rearranging you on his lap after the latest round of mini games had him losing his own gear and pants. You'd managed to be winning, your jacket and your skirt still on, your boots and vest tossed somewhere behind the chairs. He got handsy, big and warm and calloused against your skin. They traveled under your jacket, down your body, down your skirt. He hitched up. his knee, pushing you further back onto his lap, using his adjusting as an excuse to maneuver himself out of his boxers and under your skirt. You know you faltered, eyes fluttering as his length pushed against you, a shuddering gasp as you felt his hand pull your underwear to the side. 
Adrian, however, acted nonchalant. He joked and took swigs of his drink and talked with you and Rick as if he wasn't playing you like a fiddle, as if he was not positioning you to sit pretty on his cock. 
This is actually only the second time you’ve fucked Adrian. You don’t count hand stuff between the bars or weird touching in the mess hall when you have time out of your cell. You know his cock, but you’re still surprised at how amazing it feels when he fills you, sat on his lap and filled to the brim with him, the only movement his little thrusts pushing even deeper than you thought possible. 
Rick watches like a hawk, and you wink at him as he pulls another card. 
“Eight,” He reveals.
“Pick a date,” You explain.
He points at you, and you lean over to grab your drink. The change in angle makes you moan, and you do so shamelessly. 
“Ade, want me to grab one for you while I’m down here?” you ask, knowing another moan will escape you when you lean back again. 
“Fuckin… Yeah,” Adrian gasps. He’s so cute. 
You grab a card and pull yourself back up, attempting to bite back this moan. You fail as you lock eyes with Rick, something animalistic in his gaze. You shiver. Fuck. You want him too. You tear your eyes away from him to look at the playing card. 
“Ten,” you tell him. 
“Truth or dare! Alright!” Adrian is enthusiastic. 
“Okay, babe, truth or dare?” He asks you. 
“Truth,” you respond, deciding to play it safe at first. 
“Boring!” he exclaims, “ But, are you loving this right now?”
You nod, laughing as you lean into him. Again, Rick is a voyeur. 
“Rick,” you address him, still in Adrian world, still curled into him.
“Yeah?”
“You jealous?” You ask.
He’s silent for a moment, long enough for you to turn and look at him again, this time with hunger in your eyes. 
“Yeah, kinda.”
You laugh, a little too dark to be a giggle, a little too light to have malicious intent. 
“Truth or dare, Adrian?” Rick asks, which surprises you. 
“Truth,” he declares, and punctuates it by rolling his hips up into you again, dragging himself against you, and you bite your lip. A show. 
“Do you consider me a challenge?” he asks. Oh, it’s a dick measuring contest, you realize. 
He contemplates it, and then moves his hand to your face, his thumb on your lip. You open your mouth, taking the digit between your lips, sucking. 
“I don’t know how I could even think of you as a challenge. I mean…” He trails off, his index finger tapping your cheek. 
“Fair enough,” Rick concedes. 
“Truth or dare?” Adrian responds, to Rick, which surprises you. You look between the two men, stilling any motion, like the freeze frame before a fight. 
“Dare,” Rick all but snarls, clearly calling Adrian’s challenge. It's interesting, being fought over like this. People have fought over your resources, your power, your alliance, but never yourself. It's a bit of an ego trip, one that strokes you better than any cock could.
“I dare you to try and show her a better time than I could,” Adrian says, and then looks to you. 
His hips still as his eyes meet yours, a silent as if this is okay? You want this? And maybe, will you still pick me after all of this? His eyes are bright behind his glasses, not shying away from the fact that he’s watching you, his thumb still between your kiss swollen lips. You lead the charge, you let Adrian follow. Strangely loyal, awfully endearing. How is it that you spent your entire life in the Pacific Northwest without passing him earlier? 
You nod, giving him the okay, and take his hand into yours, pulling his thumb from your lips. You swivel your hips, quietly moaning as you resettle yourself in his lap, and let him press a possessive kiss on your neck.
“You sure?” you whisper to him, and he shrugs nonchalantly. Adrian doesn't really seem like the kind of guy that would be okay with this, but if he says so, you cannot deny it. 
Wordlessly, you motion for Rick to approach, and he crosses the room slowly. He gives you a show, his underwear leaving little to the imagination, the light layer of sweat making his muscles shine in the light. Rick smirks at you, easygoing despite how you can see his hand twitching. Is he sure he’s had a threesome before?
You lick your lips as he stops in front of you, and Adrian grabs for your jacket. You stare up at Rick expectantly as Adrian pulls the leather down your arms, baring your chest to the Colonel. His eyes travel down your body shamelessly, committing your body to memory, painting your portrait in his mind.
“So how should we…?” he trails off, not sure how to proceed. Adrian makes a decision for him, though, and puts his hands firmly on your hips. You’re not going anywhere, especially as he fucks up into you, the chair below him creaking. He snaps his hips to claim his place and also yours. You’re not going to fucking move. You gasp, hand reaching back to steady yourself against his firm chest, fingers flexing against his muscles. This doesn't deter Rick, however, who takes another step towards you, stopping just in front of your knees.
“Well?” you ask, expectantly, and his smirk turns into a smile as he huffs out a small laugh. Rick unceremoniously yanks down his boxers, already leaving little to the imagination but still you cannot hide the shock in your eyes when you finally see his cock. 
Rick’s cock is long, handsome as he is, and a delicious shade of pink. You reach out, fingers curling around the base of his cock as you smile up at him. If Rick didn't know better, he’d think you were an angel. Good thing he knows better.
You pump his cock at the same rythm Adrian fucks you, his thrusts and your fist moving in tandem. You’re mesmerized by the way Rick’s brows scrunch up, as if you've unlocked his kryptonite, attention being the thing to break through his attempted cool exterior. Its beautiful. He’s beautiful.
You laugh, lips breaking into a smile, and you bend forward, Adrians grip on your hips changing his angle inside you shifting. He groans behind you appreciatively, and one of his hands gives your ass a slap. Rick flexes, and rolls his shoulders back.
“Do you like that?” you ask him, your voice a seductive whisper. You don't slow your rhythm, you don't look away; Adrian doesnt slow his rhythm, Rick doesnt look away.
“I like you,” Rick responds, just as flirty. You laugh, breathy and light, never breaking eye contact with your commanding officer. You roll your hips, feeling Adrian’s hands tightening on you. 
“Of course you do,” you say with a roll of your eyes, finally breaking the contact. Your hand moves slowly, concentrating on running your thumb up and down the vein on the underside of his cock.
“Want some more?” he asks, stepping between yours and Adrian’s legs, his hand coming up to cup your jaw. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you hear from behind you, Adrian cursing as his hands loosen their grip on your hips. 
You sigh, you should have known this would happen. Adrian doesnt seem like the sharing type, even if Rick is. You release your grip on Rick’s cock, leaning away until you back touches Adrian’s chest. You look up at him, and he doesn't look at you. 
“Adrian?” you coo, voice venomously sweet. 
He grunts.
“Adrian?” you call to him again, voice like a song as you reach up and run a finger along his jawline. 
“What?” he practically spits the word.
“Honey, where is your cock right now?” you ask him gently as if you don’t both know, continuing to run your finger along his jawline, a comforting gesture. 
Finally, Adrian leans into your touch, and his arms wrap around your waist. One hand dips down, and he teases your clit. You gasp, moan turning into a giggle. 
“In this sweet pussy,” he answers. 
“Uh huh, so let Rick play a little. His presence here is an unethical power imbalance and I think he knows that. He’s gonna play nice with me,” you tell him, scrunching your nose at him cutely. You turn your attention back to Rick, raising an eyebrow to silently ask him if he agrees. He smiles slowly, and you reach out for him again.
Rick guides your hand back to his cock, letting you grasp him once more. 
Your teamwork resumes: Adrian You Rick, Adrian You Rick. Adrian setting the speed, the pace, leaning back in the chair for leverage to fuck up into you. Grunt, moan, gasp. Groan, gasp, moan. For the first time since the game started, you can actually hear the music floating through the air from the little radio. Some crooner sets the background for this devil’s threesome unfolding. 
You speed up your movements, breaking the rhythm, and Rick inhales sharply between his teeth, a loud and discordant noise that seems to break the spell. Adrian’s hands seize your hips roughly again, seeking to possess you. 
Fuck.
“Listen, Man,” Rick addresses Adrian awkwardly, his jaw twitching as you speed up your movements even more, your wrist working him over. 
“What, man?” Adrian asks, petulant and sarcastic. You didn't know he knew how to do that. He’s full of surprises, you think. 
“Don't you think I know what's happening here?”
Okay, that makes you pause. Maybe Rick is more perceptive than you originally thought. 
“Your girl here is trying to honey pot me,” he explains, his hand reaching down to adjust your grasp on him, tighter, “Am I right?”
You nod up at him, nervous for once. 
“She figures if she shows me a good time I’ll pull some strings to give you time enough off your sentences so you can be released together,” he explains, and Adrian’s grip on you softens, only to have his rough hand run up and down your side. 
“Are you gonna?” Adrian asks, his desire to be out with you overtaking his desire to comment on an unethical exchange of sexual favors. 
Rick only shrugs.
“Why not?”
That seems to be the only answer both men need, and you breathe a sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding. 
Adrian’s hand dips forward again to find your clit, and your next breath is a shuddering gasp. 
“You wanna be a honey pot?” he asks you, his pressure on your clit increasing, almost painfully. You nod, a needy whine escaping your lips. 
“Then show Colonel Flag how sweet you are,” he commands you, his lips now against the shell of your ear. He speeds up his fingers, panting into your ear as he shallowly thrusts into you, your bodies flush. You feel helpless, a moaning mess losing yourself to your own pleasure, almost embarrassingly so. Your head rolls back onto Adrian’s shoulder, and your over kissed lips part into a dazed smile. You meet Rick’s eyes as Adrian’s movements start to make your body jolt and shake. Your orgasm, rapidly approaching, evident to everyone. 
“C’mon baby,” Adrian encourages you, his fingers digging into your thigh, holding you open as he continues his onslaught, pleasure and pain now one in the same, white heat beginning to seep into the corners of your vision.
Until the dam breaks. Adrian holds you in place, only slowing down to give you slight mercy. Rick watches intensely, his eyes never leaving your face, even as your eyes roll back and your mouth opens in a silent scream, your body wracked with tremors as your orgasm hits you like a flooding storm. Adrian holds you tightly through it all, bringing you back to earth slowly. Your chest heaves, and your eyes meet Rick’s again. 
Sweet enough? You silently ask him, and he smiles, understanding fully. Adrian seems to understand too, as he pulls you up off his lap, hissing at the air hitting his cock, cold compared to the heat of your cunt.
You stand unsteadily, almost dizzy as you use your legs for the first time in over an hour. Rick reaches out for you, pulling you into his arms as you steady yourself, his warmth radiating over you.
“Wanna lay down?” he asks, as if he already knows what you want. Yes, yes of course you do, you nod your head and he leads you over to the little table, pushing all of the discarded deck onto the floor as he gently lays you down. Adrian gets up and joins Rick, standing on the opposite end of the table. You lay back, face to face with Adrian as your spine flattens out against the formica. He smiles at you sweetly, and you return it, before he winks. As if you read his mind, you open your mouth for him, and he leans down and spits between your lips. You smile up at him, eyes full of nothing but adoration. 
“You want my mouth?” you ask him, and he shakes his head no. Rick the voyeur switches places with him, rounding the table until he’s standing next to your head. 
“Stay still,” Rick warns you, his hands gently tilting your head back to lean off the edge of the table. 
“Yes, Daddy,” you obey.
“Don’t,” Rick pauses, grimaces, blushes red as a tomato, “Don’t say that.”
You immediately tilt your head back up, looking for Adrian with wild amusement painted on your features. 
“Did you hear that?” you giggle, snapping your fingers at Adrian from his spot between your legs. He laughs along with you, pointing at Rick, who rolls his eyes. 
“Colonel’s got a Daddy kink!” you laugh, only stopped when Rick pulls your back down, bringing your attention back on him to shut you up.
“You want a taste?” he asks, grasping his cock by the base, and stepping closer to your bruised lips.
You nod, eagerly. The tip of his cock touches your lips, and you gladly part them to let Rick push his cock between them. You push your tongue out to taste him, salty and hot against you, your tongue massaging him as you take him fully into your mouth. Fuck, he feels good in your mouth, just as good as you thought he would. He pushes slowly, whether hes testing the waters or afraid to hurt you, you arent sure. But you want more, no, need it even. He takes a few more shallow thrusts, slow and even and safe.
We can’t have that, now can we?
You grab his hips, thumbs dipping right against his v-line as you pull him closer to you, taking him as deep as you can. Rick gasps, then groans in surprise, his voice strained as he gets used to the sensation of his cock down your throat. 
Adrian, not one to be outdone, only watches the show for a moment before focusing his attention back to your cunt. Which, in his opinion, is only too clothed. 
Adrian pushes your skirt up around your waist, bunching the fabric up ungracefully. His fingers rake down the front of your underwear, wet and twisted and useless now that Adrian had already made a previous mess of them. Impatient to a fault, repositioning you to pull them off smoothly would take too long. 
Your focus is pulled from the heat of Rick’s cock by cool steel against your hip, and without pulling yourself off of Rick you hum, trying to get attention as you ask what the fuck is going on. Rick reaches down to rub his thumb along your chin in comfort.
“Adrian’s got a knife,” Rick explains, and as you feel the elastic of your underwear break, you relax once more. You had told Adrian one night in your cell that you wanted him to do that to you once he got his knives back. He’s a good listener.
 You swivel your tongue along Rick’s cock, the hot velvet soft skin and salty sweat. You hollow out your cheeks, pride blooming in your chest as the commanding officer groans like a much more desperate man.
Adrian’s cock once again presses against your entrance, a key into a lock, and he sinks into you slowly, a loud and blissful moan spilling from his lips. You can only imagine the smile on his face. The same smooth drag, the fullness of him returns to you, and you moan around Rick’s shaft. You feel the shiver up his spine from here. He likes that, you notice, and file it away in your mind to use against him. 
Adrian is not slow and gentle for long, though, quickly picking up speed now that he has the freedom to have you spead out below him like this. 
His hips slamming into you shakes the table, rocking your mouth farther onto Rick’s cock. You gag, sharply inhaling through your nose to try to keep control. You reach out to him, your fingers wrapping around his forearms to stabalize you, so that maybe next time Adrian decides to be rough it wont end with Rick bruising your vocal cords. Rick moves his hands, gripping the edge of the table to keep you in place. Adrian hammers into you, fucking you onto Rick, once again a tandem rhythm between the three of you.
“Jesus, Colonel, is that your dick?” you hear Adrian ask as he presses your thighs farther apart.
“Yep,” You hear Rick confirm, his hand coming off the edge of table to brush his fingertips across your neck, “Pretty little throat your girl’s got.”
“Don’t I know it?” Adrian asks, and that effectively ends their conversation again. You’re glad 
theyre starting to get along. You feel Adrian’s hands running up and down your thighs, massaging his thumbs into the muscles, but you can only be so pliant beneath him when tension builds and pools in your stomach, threatening to bring you over the edge again. 
You try to focus on one or the other. Try to focus on keeping your cheeks hollow and your tongue moving for Rick. Try to focus on not coming again on Adrian’s cock while he teases and manipulates your body. You feel like you're failing though, and falling all the same, your muscles feel weak against both of them, hard and strong, your body filled with white-hot heat like molten lava.
Adrian breaks your thoughts by yanking both of your legs together, your knees knocking together roughly. Heat turning supernova, you moan loud around Rick’s cock, and he himself moans in response. 
“That gonna get you to come for me again?” Adrian asks, laughter in his voice as he places both of your ankles on one shoulder, hugging your legs to his chest. The angle is… divine. Your eyes screw shut tightly, stars bursting behind your eyelids. He’s such a little shit.
You hum affirmatively again around Rick’s cock, and his hips stutter against your face, knocking into your chin.
“Fuck, Doll, you gotta stop doing that,” he sighs, but you can barely hear him. No, you’re focusing to holding onto your sanity. Everything feels so so so much, everything is Adrian and Rick, Adrian and Rick, and you melting between them. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. 
A strangled cry fights its way from your mouth, and a cord snaps within you. You shudder, and Adrian leans down to pin you down even further, slowing down this time to give you a little mercy. He is sweet. He works you through your orgasm slowly, gently pulling it from you, gently letting you back down to earth, gently letting the pleasure crash over you in waves. He thrusts slowly, dragging himself from you before every slow thrust in, taking you apart and putting you back together. You float back down into yourself slowly, held by both of them. Adrian pressed against you and Rick now running his fingers through your hair. 
Rick pulls out slowly, his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, and finally you can swallow properly, your sore jaw slack and tired. Adrian presses a kiss to the back of your knee, pulling out as well. You groan at the loss of him, at the heat leaving your body. Then again, at the feeling of goosebumps covering your skin. He lets your legs down gently, your heels coming to rest on the edge of the table as he holds you lazily. 
Rick leans down, eyes dark and lustful, handsome and fully focused on you. He is dangerous. 
“Can I have that honey pot, gorgeous?” Rick asks you, face close enough to kiss. You lean up, craning your neck to do just that. He tastes like rum and vanilla, sickeningly sweet. Your hand reaches up to pull him even closer, your nails raking through his soft hair. Rick’s hand quickly finds your chest, his thumb brushing over your nipple. What a tease, you think. 
He parts his lips from you slowly, eyes staying closed as if savoring the moment to commit to memory. 
“You can have whatever you want,” you whisper, and Rick seems to preen at that. He stands tall again and moves to take Adrian’s place. Adrian doesn't budge though. 
“You gonna…?” Rick trails off, holding out his hand to gesture Adrian to the side. Adrian still doesn't budge, his feet planted to the floor. You roll your eyes, bored of the competition. Men. 
“I think I’m good here,” Adrian shrugs, his fingers idly running up and down the side of your leg.
“Don’t act like she’s not the one that holds your leash, Vig,” Rick shoots back, pointing out a truth, “Everyone sees how you protect her. She's a big girl.”
Adrian visibly deflates, his shoulders drooping. If you didn’t know better, you would think Rick’s gaze is softening in guilt. But you do know better. 
“Don’t worry, babe, you’re the only one that gets to come inside,” you stage whisper to him, looking at Rick the whole time. He gets it and nods instantly in reassurance.
“Better be,” Adrian pouts, “And maybe he should only get you from behind.”
It’s a little petty on Adrian’s part, but you have a bond. The Colonel is an interloper at the end of the night, and Adrian’s comfort is important. 
“I can work with that,” Rick pipes up, slapping a reassuring hand on the younger man’s shoulder, which surprisingly is not shrugged off. Adrian even looks a little surprised at the turn of events, as if he’s used to others making him put up more of a fight to get what he wants.
You turn yourself over, ignoring the ache in your core, dropping onto your feet off the edge of the table to bend over. The cool air hits you, and finally you realize just how wet you are. Fuck. 
Adrian is reluctant as he moves in front of you, but he seems thankful of the shitty table, and the ability to kiss you before he grabs your head to lower it on his shaft. He kisses you softly, holding both sides of your face in his big hands. You press your lips to his eagerly, a salve to whatever hurt his ego feels in this whole situation. You know you’ll hear an earful when you go to sleep next to him later, but you don’t mind. Not when he looks like that.
You’re broken from your thoughts by the feeling of another pair of rough hands; this time finding purchase on your hips. Adrian breaks the kiss somewhat reluctantly, licking the seam of your lips before he pulls away. 
You smile up at him again, and he grabs his shaft, pumping from the base to the tip twice. Like a fucking pornstar. 
“Open up?” he asks, and you oblige, dramatically parting your lips and sticking your tongue out for show. His nose scrunches, his glasses fogging slightly as he laughs through his nose, and he inches closer to you, teasing you with the tip just out of reach. You pout, and then smile as he gives in, resting the fat head of his cock against your tongue.
Rick’s cock brushes against your entrance, only for a moment, and then he pushes his entire length into you with one thrust, filling you entirely. 
You moan, loud and wanton, pushed further onto Adrian’s shaft as well. Both of them fill you, completely.
Rick lingers, savoring the feeling of being fully inside you, holding your hips and your bodies flush together. He pulls himself out again slowly, almost completely, dragging against you, friction that makes you whine, open mouthed and loud around Adrian’s shaft, and his grip on your head only becomes tighter. Rick takes the opportunity to land a hard smack against your ass, hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to make his mark on you the way that Adrian has, hard enough to lay claim to you.
He then begins thrusting in earnest; long, savoring strokes you're sure he will remember later, fucking his fist in the shower. 
The edge of the table digs into the flesh of your thighs, you can imagine the indents they'll leave, a sweet reminder as you're sure it'll be sore to walk tomorrow. He presses into you deep, each thrust harder than the last, each thrust earning him a moan.
You push back against him, arching your back into each of his movements. Adrian moves differently, barely thrusting his hips, small movements while he keeps himself deep in your mouth, his tip kissing the back of your throat with every little push of his hips. 
The room fills with moans, all three of you together harmoniously, hitting your stride. 
“Fucking amazing,” Rick sighs, beginning to speed up his thrusts, his hip bones bumping against your ass.
“Right?” Adrian agrees, his thumb swiping against your cheek. Wet, like the rest of you.
“You’re a lucky man, Vigilante.”
And without warning Rick changes his angle, hips now connecting with the bottom of your ass, and you nearly scream. This new angle… this is… excruciating pleasure. 
He reaches a part of you that your hadn't already known, the tip of his cock brushing against a spot that makes your vision blur. He hits it over and over, your eyes rolling back into your head as your orgasm rushes almost embarrassingly.
You feel yourself tightening around him, feel all of your muscles seizing. You try as hard as you can to keep your jaw where it is for Adrian despite the fact that Rick has the rest of your body curling in on itself.
He speeds up, continuing to hit that spot, hit that place in you. Your toes curl, and you lose your composure quickly, now moaning every time he fills you to the hilt. 
You moan on Adrian’s cock, your throat vibrating around his cock, and at some point he just stops thrusting, enjoying the feeling of you on him in your current state too much.
Rick keeps thrusting, your back arching to the point where your body almost comes off the table, your hips rising almost uncomfortably to meet the angle he has set to make you come beneath him, and expertly so. You're barrelling towards that high, bracing yourself to let yourself go, to go limp around Rick Flag, to show him…
“Fuck,” Rick curses, pulling out harshly. He taps the tip of his cock against your ass a few times, and then sighs deeply.
“You are something else,” he laughs, his free hand running down your hip. Adrian takes this as his cue, and pulls himself out of your mouth too. Unlike with Rick, you whine at the loss of Adrian. You look up at him through your lashes, his smile cocky and excited. 
“You wanna finish the job?” you ask your protector, and he nods eagerly, the smile never slipping.
You turn your attention back to the older man. 
“It’s okay, Colonel,” you coo, your voice once again sweet with that venom, taunting, “You can have my mouth again.”
Rick isn’t going to think twice about it, and he switches places with Adrian to stand in front of you again, gathering your hair in his fist. You lock eyes with him as your tongue darts out of your mouth, a gentle lick to the head of his cock. He shudders, clearly ready. Well, you’re not one to waste time. You pull him in closer by the hips, taking his length back into your mouth. 
He groans appreciatively when the back of your throat meets the tip of his cock again, kissing it. Quick, shallow thrusts this time, less about exploring you and more about an eagerness to meet his end, and to watch you meet your end once again. He holds your head still, fucking your mouth, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have cards to deal as well. 
You swivel your tongue along the vein on the underside of his shaft, mapping it like hills and valleys. 
He’s quick, head thrown back in pleasure and chest heaving. Adrian is not one to be outdone though, and enters you equally as quickly, no show or frills or gentleness this time. He enters you as a means to an end as well.
Both men thrust into you hungrily, chasing a high only given by you. Adrian reaches down, bending his body over you until his fingers reach your clit again, moving with a pace and desperation to make you scream around Rick’s cock. His arm will probably be as bruised as your thighs will be tomorrow morning, but it’s clear he doesn’t care, hammering into you again. 
The tension you felt under Rick comes back almost immediately, your body tensing and curling for Adrian now as he puts himself deep inside you. Rick has to almost work against Adrian, his own thrusts having to fit in the waves and crashes of Adrian’s hips.
Adrian works you over, your body constricting and tensing under Adrian’s generous moans, watches you as you start to lose it.
“That's it babe, show the Colonel how good you are,” Adrian encourages, the pressure of his finger on your clit now almost violent, knowing how ready you are.
“Let go,” Adrian urges, his voice so low and wanting. Instead of you, its Rick that lets go, filling your throat with his release, salty and hot, but easy to swallow. He tastes good, not too much not too little. You swallow him down eagerly, making eye contact the entire time, and you're almost sure he sheds a tear. 
It's seconds later that Adrian makes you come again. 
You shudder, hard and unsexy under him, and entire loss of control, but you hide none of it from Rick. He knows you, or at least he should. Adrian comes shortly after, his release with a groan, and the two of you sink to the floor as a unit, connected, held together. Adrian keeps you close.
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Your head shoots up from Rick’s shoulder as if you’ve been burned, your eyes wide as you turn your face towards the pile of his clothes. The Colonel unravels himself from you and the Vigilante, a pile of limbs doused in sweat and spit and salt. His phone vibrates; the case clattering against his belt buckle, the screen a bright intrusion to the dim lights, reflecting off of the rum bottles like christmas lights. Rick stumbles towards it, pulled by duty. Adrian pulls at you by the handful, fully enveloping you in his embrace. One so new and yet already so comforting. You picked right when you set your sights on him. 
Rick bends down to pick up his phone, showing you a great view of that ass of his. You rake your fingernails over Adrian’s bicep, tracing the scar tissue lines across soft freckled skin while you watch what the other man does. 
Rick’s screen illuminates a grimace on his face. Your brows furrow in confusion, and then realization.
“Waller?” you ask, voice partially muffled by how Adrian has himself wrapped around you.
“Yup,” Rick confirms, knowing he’s probably a dead man. 
You and Adrian burst into laughter.
He’s so fucking dead. 
Rick slips on his underwear and leaves the room to take the call. 
272 notes · View notes
lacontroller1991 · 1 year
Text
Bull Ride (Rick Flag x F!Reader)
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Main Master List || DC Master List
Warnings: SMUT 18+, language, dirty talk, sexual suggestions, drinking, innuendos, girl on top, unestablished relationship, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), creampie, uncovered feelings, tipsy sex with consent
Inspired by a conversation with @a-reader-and-a-writer a long time ago.
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Rick looks over his shoulder for the ninth time in a row, his hands gripping his mug a little tighter each time as he watches you laugh in amusement, a smile never leaving your face as you watch man after man get tossed from the mechanical bull. Rick grumbles at the sight, swirling his beer around before downing it and making his way over to the crowd.
Tapping on the announcer's shoulder, Rick asks to be next as he catches your eyes from the arena, a perfect brow raised in question.
"Alright folks, our next contestant is Rick!" The crowd cheers around him but his ears tune out all the others, only focusing on the way you cheer his name. The man places a worn cowboy hat on Rick's parted hair before giving him a slap on the back. "Good luck." Rick nods as he hops over the barricade and straddles the mechanical bull. Gripping onto the handle with one hand, Rick holds onto the hat as the bull slowly begins to move. After picking up pace, Rick's body flows with each rough thrust of the bull. People around him cheering and screaming in support as Rick manages to stay on the bull longer than most of the previous riders.
You, on the other hand, can't help the way the blush slowly blooms under your skin as your eyes fixate on his posture and how it moves in tandem. And his hips. His damn hips. "Hot damn." A girl next to you mutters as she twirls a finger in her hair, her heated gaze watching Rick's body. You roll your eyes in annoyance as jealousy creeps in. It's not like he's yours. He's merely a friend, a coworker, but damn you wish he was yours. You take another sip of the drink in your hand as the bull starts to slow down.
"Alright, easy there cowboy. Don't wanna show up everybody now," the announcer jokes as the bull comes to a complete stop, allowing Rick to slip off with grace and make his way over to you, a shit eating grin on his face, but before he can make a comment, the girl from earlier steps in.
"Howdy cowboy. Wanna take me for a ride?" You have to resist the urge to kick her ass into the floor as Rick lightly places his hands on her arms and pushes her to the side, unveiling you.
"Enjoy the show?"
"Oh for sure. You were definitely entertaining," you comment, plucking the hat off his head and placing it on yours, a sudden surge of confidence flowing through you. "Though I'd like to see what else those hips could do, Colonel."
Rick chuckles, taking the drink out of your hand, the adrenaline from the ride and alcohol coursing through his veins and giving him the courage to flirt back. "Well darlin', that's if you can handle the ride."
"What makes you think I can't, Colonel?" Rick blushes as your manicured hand traces down his covered abdomen. "I don't think you could handle the rider."
Rick takes a step closer, walking into your touch and you can't deny the pure energy that flows between the contact. "Why don't we get outta here and find out?" Your previously hooded eyes shoot wide open as you take in the meaning of his words and for a second you can see the regret in Rick's eyes at the bold suggestion. "I mean, we don't actually have to. I was just flirtin'. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He mentally beats himself up as his eyes roam the room, finding interest in a random hole on the wall. He knows he shouldn't have said anything. He knows he should've stuck to just keeping things professional but a hand on his forearm stirs him from his thoughts as he looks down at you, sporting a soft smile.
"No, no." You're quick to reassure him. "I could go for a ride."
You and Rick kiss each other with a blind passion, teeth clanging against each other as he backs you and him through the door to his apartment. Falling onto the couch, Rick's hands fall to your hips and drag you on top, your legs straddling either side of his legs as his hands roam around your body.
Breaking away, the two of you pant as you hastily get undressed, dying to have full skin on skin contact. Slipping off his lap, you shove your pants and underwear off before yanking your shirt off, sitting naked on his couch as he shoves his pants down enough for his cock to spring out and slap against his stomach, precum leaking out of the tip. He immediately grabs his member and gives himself a couple of pumps as you reposition yourself over his lap.
"Are you sure about this, we can stop." You shake your head, pushing his hand away and grabbing his member, running the tip over your wet folds.
"1000%. You have no clue how many times I've thought of this." Rick smirks at your comment, his hands falling to your hips.
"Is that so? You think about this? About us?" You nod, jolting forward slightly when his tips nudges your clit. "How often?"
You don't know if now is the time to be admitting your feelings for the colonel, but judging by the way he's looking at you with hope in his lustful eyes. Might as well. "Every night."
Rick resists the urge to break out in a big grin and hop from his chair in excitement at your proclamation of attraction, after all, it means that he has a 99.9% chance that you would say yes to a date if he would ask and he likes those odds. Instead, he hangs his head and smiles softly, a perfect ash blond lock falling to his forehead and you immediately push it back, causing him to look up at you from his position. "How about we take this to the bed?"
"I think I'd like that." Rick nods his head before standing up and carrying you to his bedroom as your hands mess with his short cropped hair. It doesn't take long before he is laying you out on the bed and slotting himself between your legs, his large frame covering yours.
"Are you absolutely sure?" His normal hazel eyes now seem a dark brown in the dark of the night as he stares down at you, looking for any sign of hesitation.
Smirking, you wrap your legs around his waist and flip him over to where you situate yourself on top, breasts heaving with each breath causing Rick to drool. He always knew you like to be in charge, in fact it sometimes causes arguments between the two of you, but now? Rick doesn't think he minds you in control. "I did say I was gonna ride you, didn't I?"
Taking control of the situation, you grab ahold of his member before lining him up with your sex and slip him in as the both of you groan at the sensation. You had always fantasized about how Rick would feel buried in you, fantasized about how big he is, but in comparison to the real thing, your fantasies severely underestimated how it would actually feel. "Fuck darlin'. You're so tight."
Blush blooms underneath your cheeks as you hesitantly roll your hips, watching his face and gauging for a reaction. Much like on the field and in the office, Rick shows little to no expression at the movement of your hips. Normally you would pass off his stoic behavior as just him keeping to himself, but you really don't think now is the time for him to be silent. Stilling yourself, you place your hands on his chest, being very careful to avoid the angry scar down his left pec. "Y'know Rick, my job would be easier if you gave me some sort of clue as to how you feel."
Rick honestly didn't realize his stoic behavior. If he's being honest with himself, he's just trying to keep his cool and to not cum in you. If he did, he doesn't think he would be able to forgive himself for embarrassing him in front of you, especially during sex. Instead, Rick's large hands place themselves on your hips as he guides you along his member, sitting up and sliding deeper into you, the tip of his member hitting your cervix, causing you to gasp while Rick smirks. "Trust me darlin', I feel amazing." He captures your lips against his, your hips moving in tandem with each other as he slides in and out of you with ease. "Don't think I'll be able to last much longer with the way you rock those hips."
If you thought he already had a southern accent, the alcohol and the lust make it ten fold and if you didn't know who you were with, you would probably assume that you weren't with Rick. Still, his accent, his scent, the way he feels in you, the heat of his skin, and the way he holds you in his grasp has your orgasm approaching. Knotting your hands in his hair, you let mindless fingers pull at soft tufts as your pants get louder, spurring the colonel on. "That's it, darlin'. Use my cock to make you cum."
One more thrust is all you need before you're letting out broken moan into the night as your orgasm crashes over you, waves of pleasure radiating down from your head to your toes as Rick continues to thrust up into you with the sole intent of bringing his orgasm. Noticing how his hips start to falter, you grab his chin and turn it towards you, a different kind of ferocity in your eyes. "I want you to cum. I want you to cum in me, Rick. Make me yours."
"Fuck." Rick's eyes roll back in his head as he spurts his hot cum in you while you rock your hips against his to coax him through his orgasm. After a minute of collective breathing, he gently picks you off his lap and sets you down beside him on his bed as his hand finds yours. "I want to do that again."
"Right now?" You question with a giggle as he brings your had up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles that sends butterflies to your stomach.
"Well, I'll need a couple of minutes before round two, but I'm talking about permanently. Would you like to go on a date with me?"
Smiling, you roll onto your stomach and rest your chin on his chest. "I think I'd love to. But now," you drag a finger down his chest, twirling a strand of his happy trail between your fingers, sporting a grin that has Rick's cock twitching, "I wanna do that again."
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Author's Note: So this is the first full length Rick fic I've posted in a while but I hope you guys enjoy!!!!!!
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fantasylandloser · 4 months
Text
Orders
Paring: Rick Flag x Reader
Warnings: mention of imprisoned reader/ angry Rick/ injury to reader/ mentions of death/ lmk if you see anything else
Disclaimer: what is editing? what is a coherent plot? what is writing?
enjoy :)
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You weren’t known to disobey orders. Originally you had been trying to get as much time off your sentence as possible and did your best on missions, so that they would continuously use you. Without meaning to you became an invaluable asset to Waller, so much so that she granted you your freedom or at least her version of it. 
She demanded that you go on multiple missions with task force X. Waller also paraded your ‘redemption’ in front of any committee or anyone who had money or power she could use by her side. She made you wear a bracelet that dampened your powers, originally it had been a heavy piece of metal that hung around your neck like a collar before she switched to something more bearable. She also placed you under the eye of Rick Flag. Every mission he was on, you were there as well. His orders led you on and off the field. 
And usually, you followed them. It was easier that way. Usually. 
“You do not disobey a direct order!” Your face was heated from being publicly reprimanded, and the anger you were beginning to feel. You say nothing and avoid his heated gaze not wanting to lose control while your powers were still free. 
“You do not have the privilege of ignoring orders!” He reminded you, angrily. At his words, and the reminder that you were not truly free, you vaguely felt your control on your emotions slip but you continued to stand at attention.
“That’s cold.” Deadshot mutters to Harley, who he’d barely seen since their first mission together. 
“As ice.” Harley agreed. 
They are both surprised by the events of the mission. You’re usually the goody two shoes of the group. In another life you definitely would have been a soldier from the start, but tonight Flag was in danger and you risked the mission and your life to save him. Flag was furious and deadshot had a feeling it was less about the mission and more about you. 
“You listen to me! That’s your only job. That’s all you have to do! What you did tonight was idiotic!” You’re usually more stoic around the group, a measure you’ve taken to protect yourself but the more Rick lays into you the more visibly upset you become. 
It was no secret that you were one of if not the most powerful on the team. So when your eyes start to glow and then your hands, and second later you’re engulfed in the light your power causes, looking like you were about to explode, Deadshot thought it was time to intervene. 
“Your ass would be dead if she hadn’t disobeyed your orders, Flag. And the mission is complete, that's what matters right?” But Rick didn’t care, he couldn’t see past his own rage on what could have happened. 
Rick approaches you, bracelet in hand, the one that he’s the only one authorized to put on and take off. “We’ll talk about the consequences later.” You wordlessly offer him your wrist, that you only now realize is glowing, you focus just enough to get it to go away from that area so it doesn’t hurt him, even though he deserves it. 
'Am I dismissed?’ Is all you say once he’s done, obviously detaching yourself from him. He only nods which is good enough for you.
****
Most people would be happy to go home after a hard day at work and their boss being on their ass, but you lived with your boss. Something else you could thank Waller for.
The ride home was tense, where the two of you would usually debrief. And the house seemed to be even more silent. 
Rick found himself calming down but you were livid. Not that it truly mattered. You were basically just his prisoner, not his friend like you allowed yourself to believe. 
You carried your anger towards him for days. Unwilling to speak and trying to be as far as you were allowed to be away from him. Which was hard considering that the two of you did damn near everything together. 
“Are you really still mad?” Rick huffs, finally having enough when you sparred with someone else, leaving him with a new recruit. 
“No sir.” You say, which only infuriated Rick more. He’d never seen someone detach themself so politely. He really had no clue how you were ever a criminal. 
“Cut the bullshit.” He sighs, running a hand down his face.  “You’re my friend, talk to me.”
“Wrong. I’m your prisoner.” You correct. “Your employee, your slave, those are actually true.”
Rick's face turns dark. “You are not my slave.” 
“I’m not your friend either.” You retort. 
“We were friends a week ago.”
“Then you reminded me of my place. Thank you for that.” You’re sure that no amount of petty will hide how hurt you are. It still wouldn’t hurt to try.
“You disobeyed an order!” Came his booming voice, which you’re sure they heard outside his office. 
“To save your life. Don’t worry I won’t do it again. I learned my lesson.” Rick can’t help but sigh knowing that's not how he wanted the conversation to go.
*******
You did not learn your lesson. Rick stared at you intensely from his spot on the helicopter. Surprisingly he hadn’t said a word yet but you knew it was coming. It had barely been a week since you told him you wouldn’t do it again. During said week you have barely spoken to him, which led him to be nicer than usual because he wanted your friendship back. You were sure that was gone. 
When you and the rest of the squad lands, instead of talking to everyone like he usually does he calls your name gruffly. “My office. Now.” You can’t help the irritation and the slight pinch of dread you feel. Last week the consequences he’d given you were brutal workouts that left you sore for days. You still felt the effects of them and you weren’t in the mood for more.
Once the door was closed behind you, Flag slumped in his chair. He looked genuinely exhausted and you imagine he must be. You wait for him to speak, not wanting to escalate the situation further. 
“Sit down. I know you’re tired.” It’s a trap. You do so hesitantly. 
Rick can’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. He can’t help the fact that he’s exasperated and he doesn’t truly know why. Any leader would be happy to know that the soldiers that stood behind him were willing to die to protect him. And maybe once he could remember feeling that way, but he could also remember being more proud to get them home safely .
 Rick stares at you for a good two minutes without breaking eye contact, before glancing at the clock on the wall. “Do you have something you want to say?” He asks you. Definitely a trap. 
“It’s my job to protect you, sir.”The formality you tack on at the end let’s Rick know how you’re going to try to play this conversation. 
“It is your job to listen to me.” He corrects, which you have to refrain from rolling your eyes at. 
“It’s your job to try to get everyone home in one piece. Including yourself. Also, asshole if you die where the fuck do I go?” You ask, frustratedly scoffing at the look of realization on his face. “When you get over your death wish then I’ll start to listen to you again.”
Rick falls silent again as he thinks over your words. “Am I dismissed?” You ask, the tone of your voice conveying your anger. But you also urgently needed to get away from him. 
“No.” He answers, ignoring your huff of frustration. “Do you have anything else you want to say to me?” 
“You wouldn’t want to hear anything I have to say to you.” Your disregard for respect is noted, but at the moment it’s not what he’s concerned about. 
“You’re hurt.” He says finally, watching as shame creeps up on your face. “What reason do you have for not reporting your injuries?” He asked blankly, his southern drawl making him sound less upset than he was, but you knew better. 
Rick watched surprise take over your face at the fact that he knew. “It’s not that bad.” You tell him. That was a lie though, and the only reason you hadn’t said anything is because you didn’t want to give him anymore reason to be mad over you ignoring his orders. Also you would be pissed to hear I told you so. 
Rick sighs, he‘s exhausted, angry, worried and frustrated and the last thing he feels like dealing with is you lying to his face.
Without another word, he stands from his seat. He’s not in the mood to argue, especially when you’re clearly wrong. When he kneels in front of you, you blanch a little  unsure of what he’s doing when he takes out his pocket knife. 
He makes quick work of cutting your suit to see the affected area. You start to protest but it dies on your lips when he glares at you, leaving you unaware of the pout that settles there instead. You wince once you see the bruised area that leaves your skin discolored. It looks worse than you thought it would. 
“That’s definitely broken.” He states. He presses softly against the bruise, eliciting a hiss from you. You hear him mutter under his breath ‘not that bad’ mockingly. 
Even though you know you shouldn’t say anything and you’re not in the position too you can’t help yourself. “You know a little gratitude wouldn’t hurt.” And because you’re a pain in the ass you add, “Even if I’m just your prisoner.” 
The look he flashes you is bordering deadly. “You want me to thank you for the stupid shit you keep pulling in the field.” You squint at him defiantly, adrenaline still crashing through your veins from the events because you shouldn’t even have the energy to argue with him, but you do. 
“The stupid shit that saved your life? Yeah.” Rick is astonished by your insubordination, it’s new and most likely a product of you being frustrated by your circumstances. He laughs a little, obviously pissed.
You’re surprised when he grips your jaw in one hand and pulls your face closer to him. “I’m only gonna say this once, and you’re gonna listen since you’re so convinced that I own you. “ He speaks slowly. “There are a thousand men just like me. They were trained the same, they think the same, they live the same life as me. There is only one you.” Rick takes in the way your eyes are almost bambi like and basically a window into your naivety trying to avert your gaze. He knows you hate to hear it. You hate being told how special you are, you don’t believe it. 
“Look at me.” You do.He's still holding your jaw, but his grip is softer now and you could pull away, but you don’t.
“Nobody out there is like you. Nobody. And you could really change the world when you get out of this mess, for good. Stop trying to save me all the time. I can take care of myself.” You purse your lips knowing that if it came down to it again you would do the same. He knows that.
“Sir, yes sir.” You say jokingly, your smile wobbly and your eyes wet. “Your best pep talk yet.” You inform him. 
He grins at you exasperated, but willing to let it go. 
“Let’s go to the med bay, before you pass out.” 
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blackbat05 · 11 months
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Thief
Rick Flag x Reader
Plot: The weather hasn’t done any favors, leaving you out of clothes. Thankfully, you know where you could grab some in case of an emergency.
Genre: PG-13 (Shared clothes trope)
A/N: I’m sorry if this was so brief and not as well written🥲 I realized I haven’t wrote Rick in a while and it proves because this was sitting in my draft for a good 3 weeks? Final semester so many things were going on. Still hope you enjoy it!
Yes, the yellow shirt makes an appearance😩
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Sweating buckets, you stumbled into the shared apartment. Making a beeline for the fridge, you grab a bottle of water, gulping down the liquid like it’s your lifeline.
Curse the fickle minded weather. You swore the weather forecast saying something about breezy winds. It didn’t say anything about a blistering hot morning.
You immediately made your way to the showers once you were sure you could properly stand and not collapse midway.
Shortly after, you stepped out of the shower, satisfied with the cooling sensation lingering on your skin. Opening your closet to retrieve fresh clothes, you realize one problem…
You were out of tops.
Of course. With the unpredictable weather, you finally managed to get your clothes out to dry without having to worry about the torrential rain. Your friends around you convinced you to just get a dryer or head to the laundromat but you were dead set on not having to spend more money than you already were. So natural drying it was.
You racked your head for a solution. Sure, you would have been contended lounging around naked but the windows were too close to the building opposite your apartment and you had intention of jeopardizing you modesty with creeps these days.
An idea lights in your head. Of course! Why didn’t you think of that. You opened Rick’s part of the cabinet, pulling out a yellow shirt. Slipping it through your head, you were glad for the new soap powder you had bought just last week for the smell had mixed nicely with Rick’s scent. As his shirt had covered you nicely, you decided to opt for no shorts enjoying the cool air on your legs.
It felt as if like he was hugging you from behind while you went around your daily tasks. Heat long forgotten, you started to hum your favorite tunes, time ticking away.
The door rattles slightly before revealing Rick with a couple of brown bags in each hand. You don’t seem to notice him as you focused on making breakfast for the two of you.
His eyes can’t help but to roam your figure, specifically what you were wearing. Rick recognized that blindingly bright yellow shirt from anywhere. Honestly, it only reminded him of unsavory memories but when you wore it, the distaste for it somehow disappeared.
“Hey baby.” Rick gently calls out so as to not alarm you. You turn around, spatula in one hand and an infectious smile on your face. Now that you were facing him, Rick feels a flutter in his chest seeing how effortlessly elegant you looked despite the casual home wear.
“You’re back!” You made sure the stove was switched off before making a beeline to the counter where Rick was sitting. “Did you get everything on the list?”
Rick nods proudly. “And I figured you could do with some ice cream especially after that run.”
His brain momentarily short circuits as you give a bone crushing hug, feeling your skin exposed by the lack of shorts press against his own.
“You’re the best! What would I do without you.” An arm around Rick’s neck, you rummage the shopping bags with your free hand only to be stopped abruptly by him. You give him a puzzled look. Rick takes a few steady breaths.
“Is that my shirt you’re wearing?”
You glanced down, holding the piece of fabric between your two fingers. “Oh… this?” You carefully scanned his unreadable expression.
“Yeah, I didn’t have any fresh clothes so I kinda grabbed one from you… if you don’t like it I can change! I’m sure one of mine would have dried in this heat by now.”
Before you could ramble any further, Rick nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “Don’t, I love it.”
He wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him. “In fact, take this shirt. I want to see you wear it more often.”
Rick’s sudden straightforwardness leaves you blushing. Despite how long you had been together, Rick always made you feel like you were the prettiest woman in the world.
You gently pry yourself away from him, looking at his gaze that was dripping with honey. “Alright then,” you decided to feel a little cheeky today, “I’ll keep it! Don’t say that I’m a thief or something!”
He laughs. “Darlin? That’s exactly what you are. A thief to my clothes and my heart.”
Rick turns away from you, preparing to help you with breakfast. He can’t help but to grin, knowing very well that you were left agape at his smooth delivery.
You barely managed to pull yourself together, mumbling how you were going to fold the clean laundry since he was at the stove. As you leave the kitchen, Rick can’t help but to stare at your thin underwear that was covered by his large shirt.
Yeah, he’ll get more of those darned shirts if he had to.
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kinokomoonshine · 5 days
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ME HAVING A TYPE??? PTF- No...
Also me (pt.2):
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playbucky · 2 months
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Squad Death.
You used to be part of the Suicide Squad, running it alongside Rick Flag but now you’ve joined the 141.  Characters – Reader, Ghost, Soap, Rick, Harley, Deadshot, mentions of Waller and Laswell.  Word Count – 2.4k 
‘For this job you’ll be meeting another team on the ground, sixteen hundred at the local pub.’ Laswell said. ‘They got names?’ Price asked, Laswell nodded and pulled the folder out, her blue eyes flirted to you. ‘Admiral Rick Flag, Harley Quinn and Dead Shot or better known as -,’ Laswell listed them off, you blinked away. ‘The Suicide Squad.’ You finished for her, they turned and looked at you. ‘You know them?’ Price asked, you hummed. ‘Worked with them for just under five years before I joined you.’ You informed him. ‘Why Suicide Squad?’ Soap asked, you leaned back in your seat as their files were set on the table. ‘You don’t get hired onto that team and make it out alive.’ You said, arms crossed in front of you. ‘You did.’ Soap commented but noticed the way your eyes glossed over as you clenched you jaw and nodded. ‘Yeah, I made it out.’ You replied, Ghost watched as you lifted your head and you scoffed. ‘Looks like you're meeting my old team fellas.’ You commented, a small wrinkle between Price’s eyebrows appeared at the cold tone of your voice, you pushed out your seat and walked away.
‘Y/N!’ Harley practically screamed, she wrapped her arms around your neck, legs over your hips.  You caught her, hand on her thigh as she gave you an exaggerated kiss before she jumped off you.  ‘Harley.’ You greeted her, happy to see her after five years. ‘Who’s the hotshots with you?’ She quizzed and looked over your shoulder.  ‘My team.’ You told her, her eyes widened and took a step back from you. ‘Your team, you replaced us.’ She sounded offended but you rolled your eyes. ‘Harley, Deadshot, Colonel, I would like you to meet Ghost, Soap and Price.’ You introduced your teams, knowing that it was going to be an interesting couple of days. ‘Soap, why you called Soap?’ Harley asked, Soap glanced to you as you arched an eyebrow. ‘Good at cleaning up.’ He said, Harley’s face dropped and everyone fell silent. ‘Oh! I get it!’ She almost screamed, you took a step away before she smiled widely and laughed, almost manically. ‘Admiral Rick Flag.’ Rick introduced himself to Ghost, you could see them sizing one and another up. ‘Lieutenant Riley.’ Ghost responded, his voice deeper than normal. ‘Are you done measuring your dicks?’ You appeared beside them, Rick’s head snapped to you. ‘Just trying to -,’ He started, you tilted your head.
‘Be a pain in the ass?’ You asked rhetorically, ‘You both are, don’t need to test it. We’re waiting for you for the rundown.’ You told the pair before you turned and walked away, Harley joined your side as Deadshot and Soap were talking to each other, quickly talking like old teammates. ‘What’s Waller looking into this case for?’ You asked, Rick turned and looked at you. ‘Why’s the British looking into it?’ Rick asked, you furrowed your brows. ‘Rick.’ You hissed. ‘Meant to be an ex-colleague of Wallers.’ He said, you briefly closed your eyes. ‘Colleague or employee?’ You quizzed. ‘Employee.’ He said, you scoffed and shook your head, you had a gut feeling. ‘Do they know?’ Rick asked, you rubbed your lips together and shook your head. ‘No.’ ‘You haven’t told them?’ He quizzed, you shook your head before you made eye contact with him. ‘No, how do you bring it up in a conversation?’ ‘What about the injuries, scars and the amount of times you’ve escaped death?’ ‘Funny enough I don’t parade around in my underwear when in the huts or even in the field.’ You told him. ‘Y/N.’ Rick said, you shook your head as you scoffed at yourself. ‘I know okay, trust me I know but I can’t tell them.’ You told him. ‘What’s with the mask?’ Rick asked, the subject had been changed now but your shoulders still dropped. ‘Rick.’ You hissed. ‘What, you’re telling me he doesn’t take it off?’ He asked, you narrowed your eyes at him. ‘We’ve worked with all creatures and you’re picky about a mask?’ You hissed, he shrugged his shoulders.
‘I’m not picky about the mask, I just want to know if you’re being treated well.’ He said, you clenched your jaw as you looked at your old partner.
‘Rick, go be with Harley and others.’ You told him, his eyes widened as he looked at you.
‘What did I do?’ He asked, you arched your eyebrow before you shook your head. ‘You’re getting in my last nerve,’ you told him, ‘so please before I show the team my true potential. Leave.’ You nearly snarled at him, his mouth dropped open. ‘Y/N-,’ ‘Go away Rick.’ You said.
‘The parcel is on the plane.’ Harley said, everyone looked defeated, Ghost looked around. ‘Where’s Y/N?’ Ghost questioned, Harley raised her shoulders in a shrug. ‘Don’t know she went radio silent.’ Deadshot told them, Ghost and Rick looked at each other before they turned back to  ‘She went radio silent?’ Ghost and Rick repeated, both their brows dropped. ‘Guys.’ Harley said, the group looked at her before they followed her pointed arm. ‘Please don’t -,” ‘Thought you guys knew how to get it?’ Your strained voice came through the comms as you sprinted across the grass covered mound.  ‘What are you doing?’  Soap quizzed, they watched as you ran across the grass, your muscles screamed out at you. ‘Trying to get the parcel that you all lost.’ You commented, your breath staggered. ‘You’re insane.’ Soap and Bloodshot replied, you gave out a strangled chuckle. ‘Known that for a while.’ They watched as you leapt onto the wing of the plane.  ‘Y/N?’ ‘Kinda busy Harley.’ You grunted out, you pulled yourself as upright as you could with the increasing wind. ‘Oh, I know but how you gonna get in?’ She asked, you dropped your head as the wind picked up before you grunted. ‘I’m hoping spending majority of my life on these things has let me learn something.’ You told her, your brows furrowed as you climbed along the wing, the wind attacked you. With a deep breath you slid down and landed on the small ledge next to the door, you ran your hand over the smooth surface before the small hatch popped open. Silently you cheered and slid in the opening and closed the door behind you. Cautiously you walked over to the crates that were secured with thick straps.  ‘Can you see them?’ Harley asked, you ignored her as booted footsteps sounded to your right. Quickly you hid behind a crate, the writing informed you that it was the one you were looking for, you pressed yourself close to it as you carefully removed the straps, the footsteps walked away before you stretched to the side and pulled the lever, the large door opened. Air rapidly filled the area and the men turned to you, their eyes wide. ‘Sorry fellas.’ You commented and pulled the parachute cord before they could fire. Your entire body was yanked backwards, your head connected with the missiles, and you grunted. The cold air wrapped around you as you dropped through the air before the parachute opened and you slowed down.
‘So, this is the famous Y/N, the one that managed to leave the suicide squad without being in a body bag.’ Andrew said, you arched an eyebrow, ‘Waller always talked about you as if you created the world.’ He said, his arm appeared from his back, the silver device held securely. ‘That’s me.’ You announced. ‘How’d you get out?’ You asked him, he tilted his head to the side as he looked at the others that lingered at the door. ‘You haven’t, you still have the implant?’ You corrected yourself, the corner of his lips jumped before he glanced to the group that stood behind you, some faces familiar to him. ‘Still got it but stopped it from sending a signal.’ He stated proudly, your brows furrowed as you looked at him, your focus was pulled to the burn marks either side of his head, just at his temples. ‘You electrocuted yourself?’ You asked, shocked that he had managed to survive the current it took to stop the transmission. ‘Only way that bitch would leave me alone.’ Andrew hissed out, you were still focused on the red blistered area. ‘It won’t stop her for long.’ You said, he nodded. ‘Oh I know, but it will delay her long enough.’ ‘For what?’ You quizzed, his lips pulled up into a lopsided smile.  ‘I needed to find away to get rid of Waller’s prize project.’ He reached into his pocket, you tensed before he pulled out a small device. The button on the top flashed red, he kept his finger hoovering over it, your stomach dropped, your eyes snapped around in before you noticed the wires that ran along the walls. ‘Shit.’ You cursed, Andrew looked pleased that you had spotted them. ‘The buildings going to collapse, get out.’ You whipped around to the team, Ghost and Soap’s head snapped around to you. ‘Y/N?’ Simon said, you ignored him and looked at Deadshot and Rick, Deadshot started to move instantly. ‘Rick get them out now.’ You said, you directed your attention to Rick and Harley, who looked conflicted but nodded. ‘Y/N?’ ‘Just go, I'll be behind you.’ You lied, Rick didn’t give him a chance to say anything before he started backing him up, herding him out the door.
‘Y/N.’ Simon and Soap called out, the cloud of dust had subsided enough now that they could see the rubble. There were mangled body parts that were far too damaged to be identified, the boys started to go towards the building in hopes that they could get you before a bit of rubble moved. They froze and watched as the rubble moved to the side, you stood up and wobbled, dirt and blood covered you along with new bruises. You looked around the area, taking in everyone before you shakily stepped forward. ‘How the fuck did you survive that?’ Soap asked, you looked at him blankly and blinked a few times. ‘I have powers.’ You breathed out, you lifted an arm and they all took in the very obvious bone that was protruding through the skin. ‘Shit, Y/N, you need to get that seen to.’ Soap stepped forward but you took a step back and turned to Harley. ‘Do me a favour?’ You asked her, she grimaced but nodded. She wrapped a hand around your wrist and took a step back, to steady herself. You looked at her and she nodded before she lifted a leg up and rested it against your hip, both of you pulled away from each other and it popped. Harley quickly dropped it and gagged at the sound as you exhaled, the pain was quick to subside before you twisted your arm to look at the closing wound. ‘I’m all good.’ You said, the pain had disappeared now, ‘We need to get going.’ You said, you bent down and pulled out your second weapon from your ankle holster, you checked it. ‘No.’ Ghost said, you turned and looked at him. ‘What the fuck have I just seen?’ He asked angrily, he stepped closer in an attempt to intimidate him but it didn’t work. ‘You want to know?’. You questioned, you stepped closer as you held eye contact with him. ‘Yeah.’ ‘I have powers, just like…’ you trailed off, none of the squad just now had any, ‘I don’t think I can be killed, at least not situations like these.’ You gestured to the crumbled building, that no one should’ve survived. ‘The suicide squad are a team, a task force but a lot of them have unique powers like mine.’ You continued, Soap and Ghost lifted their heads to looked at Harley, Rick and Deadshot. ‘Not us.’ The three of them said together. ‘They are all extremely talented but they don’t have powers, well we’re not too sure about Harley but you get it.’ ‘No, no we don’t get it.’ Ghost snarled, he grabbed your good wrist, ‘you kept this from us.’ ‘You didn’t ask about it.’ You retorted just as harshly, he stopped and glared at you, ‘I also haven’t hid it from you either.’ You yanked your hand from his grip. ‘What?’ ‘I can bench press more than Price almost more than you,’ you gestured to him, ‘the scars that decorate my body quite literally from head to toe, where’d you think I got them?’ You quizzed, they fell silent. ‘I understand that you are angry at me. We need to keep moving, they will be back and when they don’t find anybody it’ll be a hunt.’ You said, you twisted on your heel before you marched away, not waiting for anyone to join you.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Ghost asked, he broke the silence that had been going between the two of you for the last four hours, you turned and looked at him. ‘Because I know how the majority of people react.’ You said before you looked away.‘You know I’m not like them.’ He said, you shrugged and kept your attention on the chair across from you. ‘Yeah, I also know you don’t like liars.’ You reminded him. ‘Y/N.’ He breathed out, you quickly looked at him before you focused back on the chair. ‘Can you lift more than me?’ He quizzed, his elbows rested on his knees, he was far enough forward to see the corner of your lips quirk up. ‘If I wanted to.’ You told him as you turned. ‘Can you tell me how you got the powers?’ ‘Long story short?’ You asked, he nodded, ‘I was sold when I was seven, for a whopping total of a thousand pounds before I was shoved in a cage for the next three years.’ You explained, your fingers gripped at the side of your trousers. ‘Soap you can come in.’ You announced, Ghost turned to the door as it was pushed open to reveal his guilty face. ‘You’re not very sneaky.’ ‘Sorry.’ He said, he dipped low. ‘Don’t apologise, it should be me that does that.’ You shook your head at him. ‘How ‘bout everything is forgiven and we’re even?’ Soap suggested, you raised an eyebrow before the pair of you looked to Ghost who nodded, you exhaled as relief washed over you. ‘So, what else can you do?’ Soap questioned. ‘Soap?’ Ghost warned him. ‘Right, shutting up.’
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Tags (everyone commented on previous post) - @ellie-shimmer @australias-soles @ritzynixi @hoe4munson @callmeluno @pansa-1-san @karmasawitch @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @totallynot-mac @tequila-coffee-things
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mordredisacoolname · 1 month
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HEADCANONS: SU!SIDE SQUARE/BIRDS OF PREY CHARACTERS
Are they top or bottom/sub or dom
MALE READER
CHARACTERS: HARLEY QUINN, DEADSHOT (FLOYD LAWTON), RICK FLAG, CAPTAIN BOOMERANG (GEORGE "DIGGER" HARKNESS), EL DIABLO (CHATO SANTANA), POLKA DOT MAN (ABNER KRILL), THE HUNTRESS (HELENA BERTINELLI), BLACK CANARY (DINAH LANCE), VICTOR ZSASZ
Warnings: N/SFW, amab reader implied, ADULT CONTENT READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harley Quinn
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-I can see her being both a dom and a sub
-really depends on her mood at that moment
-she can be all submissive and a pillow princess one moment, and the next thing you know she's on top of you pinning your hands down
Deadshot/floyd Lawton
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-he's a top one hundred percent
-I like to think he tried bottoming for a man one time (whether it was you or not) and didn't like it
-now for the other question, is he a dom or a sub?
-he can be both, but either way he'll be in charge
-you're on top of him controlling the pace? Nah ah, he's secretly the one in charge
-you don't know how it's possible but it's all going according to what he wants
Rick flag
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-I see him being a switch
-depend on his mood
-when he's angry he wants to fuck you to defuse the tantion, but when he's in a good mood he likes getting fucked by you
-but he's totally a sub
-he likes letting go of control and trusting his partner to do what's right
Captain boomerang/George "digger" harkness
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-he'll never admit this to anyone besides you but he really likes being fucked
-he's a sub, no questions
-at the beginning he only tops, too embarrassed to ask you to top
-however when you do, his world flips upside down
-he won't admit he likes it right away, saying it was "ok", but he just keeps thinking about it and eventually submits to his desires
-oh how he loves being so roughed up he cant feel his legs for the next two days
El Diablo/chato Santana
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-he's definitely a sub top
-he likes when you ride him
-gripping his shoulders and setting the pace however you like
-he also really enjoys being teased and tied up
Polka dot man/Abner krill
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-I feel like he enjoys fucking someone rather than being fucked, even tho he doesn't really mind either way
-he's very shy at the beginning, so you think he's a sub
-and even tho he really likes being told what to do, he also enjoys being in charge very much
-but when he doms he's a soft dom, doesn't like hurting you
The huntress/Helena bertinelli
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-I see her as a switch
-enjoys both subbing and domming, but prefers subbing
-likes letting go of control and just feeling good without doing much
Black Canary/Dinah Lance
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-oh she's definitely a Dom
-will literally destroy you
-she has so much energy, when you have sex get ready for at least two rounds
-she's also a teaser, likes seeing you desperate and begging for her
Victor zsasz
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-he likes displaying himself as a big tough guy, how dare you suggest him being on the bottom
-but he is
-he can be a sub and a dom just fuck him hard
-will literally let you do anything to him, scratch him, choke him, slap him, he's all yours
-but if you say something about it to others you better run
-also he's totally a brat
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loverhymeswith · 8 months
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'Cause I'd Rather Feel Pain Than Nothing at All
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Pairing: Rick Flag x GN!Reader
Summary: Inspired by the Three Days Grace song of the same name, this is an angsty little drabble that has been sitting in my drafts for a few months.
Word Count: 829
Warnings: Description of injury, angst
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“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Despite your clenched jaw, the lie slips out easily. Still, you avoid eye contact with Rick as he examines your bruised and swollen hand; his uncanny ability to read your emotions won’t serve you well right now. If he thinks for one minute that you’re badly injured, you’ll wind up on desk duty faster than you can say Bloodsport. That is, if either of you make it out of here alive.
“Really?” The word stretches out into the darkness, filling what little space there is between you. “Because it looks pretty damn bad to me.”
With so much cynicism lacing the colonel’s tone, your eyes involuntarily flicker upwards, landing on his familiar worry-worn face, illuminated as it is by the weak orange glow of your twin torches. Shadows dance across his battle-scarred features, eerily emphasising all his sharp curves and edges – a Picasso painting brought to life, albeit temporarily.
Thanks to the explosion rocking the building only minutes earlier, the two of you are trapped in what had once been the ground-floor comms-room, a mountain of rubble outside the door now separating you - somewhat ironically - from your squad of deadly prisoners. Those prisoners are undoubtedly enjoying their fleeting moment of freedom at your expense. If this situation doesn’t kill you, Amanda Waller surely will.
“Really. It’s probably just a sprain.” You tap the cracked GPS device somehow still strapped to your injured wrist and send out a silent prayer that Harley and the others will try to find you. And soon. Much like your ongoing attempt to convince Rick that you’re ok, the signal -- and your hope -- is weak.
The second lie draws Rick’s attention away from your hand, his hazel eyes finding you effortlessly even in the darkness. You quickly subvert your own gaze from the sweat beading across his filthy brow. It’s unfair that in such rotten conditions he still manages to look handsome.
“Let’s leave the diagnosis to the doctors, huh?” Calloused fingers brush across your knuckles. While it’s the ghost of a touch, you still find yourself gritting your teeth against the pain. Something is almost certainly fractured, but your hand is far from the only part of you that is wounded in Rick’s presence.
“If you say so.”
Spite tempts you to point out that hospitals and doctors seem like a distant fantasy when the pair of you might be lost down here forever. After all, any potential rescue attempt rides solely on Harley’s twisted moral compass. Between the two of you, have you shown her enough kindness? Perhaps she’ll leave you here to rot – and who could blame her?
But Rick is an optimist; he sees the good in people while you only see all the ways they can let you down. The colonel is no exception.
Careful not to jostle your hurting wrist, you snatch up one of the torches and aim the beam towards the door. The force of the fallen debris from the floors above has warped the metal in such a fashion that nothing short of another explosion is likely to free it from the frame. And you’re fresh out of nitro.
“Where was your head at?” Rick’s deep voice shatters the cloying silence descending over the room.
“Huh?” For the briefest of moments, you’d forgotten he was here. No easy feat considering his proximity, propped up beside you against the wall.
“Exactly. You’re somewhere else today. Distracted.”
He could be referring to any number of events: how you almost missed wheels-up because you couldn’t drag yourself out of bed; how you forget to check-out Harley’s weapons cache, leading to a meltdown of epic proportions from the princess of crime; how easily the guards got the drop on you.
Rick presses on. “You can talk to me, you know. If something is bothering you-”
 “I’m fine.” You cut him off decidedly, your tone leaving no room for argument.
Fine…
Has anyone ever said that four letter word and truly meant it?
From the flash of his eyes, it’s clear Rick doesn’t believe you.
You want to tell him the truth. You want to tell him that yes, your hand might be bad, but you’ve experienced far worse. That the pain you carry around with you every day has dulled your other senses, so much so that a knife to the gut would probably hurt less. But you don’t. Instead, ignoring the familiar and constant hurt throbbing deep in the cavern of your chest, you subtly shuffle away from him.
All things considered, the pain of your injury is a welcome relief, allowing you to focus on something other than the truth.
Because Rick Flag broke your heart without even knowing it. And now you’re stuck here beside him, waiting for almost inevitable death together in this dank, dark room.
Perhaps this was how it was always meant to be.
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Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @babblydrabbly @heresathreebee @phoenixhalliwell @weallhaveadestiny @lavenderluna10 @immyownlittlebitch @katjnordstrom96 @kirsteng42 @littlefreakingfangirl @s-u-t @xoxabs88xox @lacontroller1991 @mayhem24-7forever
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foli-vora · 2 months
Note
Congratulations on your follower milestone! That is amazing! 💖
May I please request a Rick Flag fic with “The first time you smiled it felt like the universe aligned.” and I would love for you to rip my heart out (since that is an option 😊)
Thanks and I am so excited to read all of these upcoming fics!
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My sweet angel, thank you for your never ending support and love, and thank you for the request! I'm sorry for the major delay getting this done, but I hope you enjoy me ripping your heart out and squishing it under my slipper 💖
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hear me
rick flag x suicidesquadf!reader
word count: 1k warnings: ANGST SUPREME. sad ending. swearing, blood, bullet wounds, death, sad sad sad. rick is cheesy & sad. SAD. ANGST. genuinely teared up writing this bye.
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They lied. Everyone who had toed that line between life and death, they fucking lied. There was no bittersweet flash of memories before your eyes. You didn’t have a lot, but shit—there’s gotta be something worth showing you, worth reliving, before you close your eyes forever.
The minutes pass, you feel the growing chill along your limbs from the steady flow of blood from the various bullet holes in your torso, and still—nothing. Not a goddamn thing. 
Just Rick.
Rick bolting across the sand with your name falling from his lips. You can’t hear it, there’s a distinct shrill ringing in your ears that seems to be drowning out the chaos around you, but you see the movement of his mouth, the strain of his throat as he yells.
He comes to land on his knees next to you, a shower of cool sandy grains flicking up and dusting your black tac shirt. It glistens under the light of explosions and gunfire, and you briefly wonder in morbid curiosity how much of your blood stains the beach beneath you.
“Jesus. Oh, oh darlin’—”
You hear him then, his broken and strained mutter cutting through the surrounding ambush.
“Hey Colonel,” you rasp with a barely there smile, a sticky hot trail of liquid leaking from the edge of your lips, “how’s it lookin’?”
Those pretty doe eyes dart over the destruction of your body, his hands ghosting over your wounds in what feels like hesitation, anxiety. Which ones can be smothered with a cheap and easy dressing? What one needs the most pressure applied?
Going by the rate your body seems to be numbing, cooling in the breezy night air, they’re all pretty shit. At least there's no pain. Shock, adrenaline - whatever the fuck it is, you're thankful for it.
“Fine,” he mutters, rough gloved hands instead coming to rest on your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the coarse sand and half dried blood splatters covering your skin, “you’re gonna be just fine.”
“Damn,” you breathe heavily, brows briefly coming together, “I never thought I’d hear you lie to me. None of that shit. No, no.... you gotta make it something good, Colonel.”
Confusion pinches his pretty face through the pain, and you give another strained smile.
“The last words I’ll ever hear—make ‘em… they gotta be good.”
“Don’t talk like that, you hear me? You’ll be fine. Backup’s comin’. They’re comin’, and we’ll get you patched up, and you’ll be right to back to bein’ a pain in my ass, okay?”
Oh, sweet soldier.
No.
It doesn't work like that.
They don’t send help for people like you. Suicide Squad, remember? It’s in the name. You knew what you were signing up for. He knew what you were signing up for. This is it. You’re just another classified file thrown through the shredder at the end of the day.
You blink tiredly up at him, “No one’s coming, Flag.”
He shakes his head in firm denial, strong jaw rolling in an effort to remain cool and collected.
“No, they... they have to.” 
“Somethin’ good, Flag,” you remind him quietly, a heaviness now seemingly coming to rest along your limbs.
Is this it? Can’t you just have one more minute? One more minute of him crowding your vision? You don’t need a last minute life montage, not when he’s here, not when he’s carefully dragging you further into his warm embrace.
Please, just a little longer in his arms.
“Okay… okay. The—the first time you smiled, it felt like the universe aligned.”
“Oh, fuck me,” you splutter with a sudden roll of remaining energy, chest heaving and lungs screaming as you choke on a weak chuckle, “that’s a… a new low, even for… f’your s-soft self.”
“Thought you’d like that,” he drawls quietly with a grin.
It’s brief, tainted with agony stricken tears, and falls from his face the second it stretches his lips. No, sweet soldier. Smile. It’s okay.
Maybe… maybe this is why your life isn’t flashing before your eyes. It’s because it’s here—he’s here. You didn’t really have anything before this, before the Squad, before Rick. You were merely a shell of a person in your cell, angry with the unfair world and the hand you’d been dealt from childhood, but when he came along?
He gave you a chance, saw something in you no one had before. He provided you with the Squad, with friends. He got you out of your cell and into the fresh air with a new outlook. He trained you, laughed with you, ate with you in the crappy mess hall despite the frowns from his co-workers.
He saw you.
He saw you for everything you were, not for what people thought you to be.
“Think you’re the… the closest thing I’ve e-ever felt to love, Colonel. Thank you.”
It’s a decent goodbye, you decide with the final beat of your heart, slackening in relief and embracing the call of the abyss with a leftover curl still tugging at your lips. Better than you’d been led to believe you deserved, better than what Waller threatened you with.
You got a good ending.
He feels the weight of you in his arms, sees how unnaturally still your chest has fallen and how your eyes seem to stare just past his shoulder. It shakes him to the core. His heart beats at the base of his throat and he can’t help but call out to you one more time, despite knowing you’d never answer.
“Darlin’?”
You can’t be gone—not yet.
You can’t be gone, because you didn’t get to hear him say it back. He needs to say it, he needs you to hear it. He murmurs those three little words over and over, breathing them into your skin wherever he can reach, willing you to stay just long enough to hear them, long enough to know you were loved.
You need to know you’re loved.
Bile builds in his throat at the thought, but he has to leave you behind; alone, broken and bled out on the sandy beach for a sweep team to deal with later. He wonders as he runs through the dense jungle, but he’ll never know if you did manage to hear his broken, tear filled I love you’s.
He hopes with everything in him that you did.
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reveluving · 1 year
Text
drown in your body ; rick flag x reader (ft benny miller)
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summary: Benny knows he can only appreciate you from afar for so long, and despite his biggest threats, specifically, your husband and Benny’s own questionable morals, he can’t help but take a quick peek.
warnings: smut (minors DNI!), possessive af!Rick vs pervy af!Benny (whew)
a/n: everyone say tq to drown by Baekhyun because I was able to conclude the year by choosing violence and write this piece about Rick blowing your back, from the pov our fav menace <3 don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ
» j.k. m.list (series under 'rick flag vs the triple frontier boys'), or check out my full m.list!
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» smut includes; unprotected & kinda rough sex, spanking, voyeurism, dirty talking, possessive & kinky Rick vs pervy & kinky Benny 🧎🏻‍♀️, kinda dark but not really?? they just really kinky fr fr
'Then again, what's the harm in just a quick peek and run, right?' ;
Benny knew he had reached a different kind of low just by doing this.
He didn't mean to, at first.
All he tried to do was pass you the mail that had been mistakenly sent to their house. The package looked pretty important, judging by the sheer size of it, so he thought to give it to you directly rather than leaving it on your porch.
He knocked, and knocked, and knocked, but no one answered. Not you, not Rick, not even the cat that loves to visit your house every other day. He had no reason to try and turn the doorknob, but he definitely wasn't expecting it to be unlocked. Whether his reason for trespassing had anything to do with stubbornness or worry, the latter because he feared something had happened to you, was uncertain, but the package in his hands was no longer his priority at the moment.
No, it was the distant moan coming from upstairs.
It should've been his cue to scram, to pray that you or Rick had forgotten about whether or not one of you brought the mail in, to control his sick curiousity and avoid getting killed.
Literally.
But, oh, those noises were so tempting, so melodious, so needy. He only realized his feet were moving on their own when he reached the bottom of the stairs. He didn't move for a hot minute, mentally arguing with his inner demons for being so depraved for you the way he is. Or maybe, it was the fact that he could hear Rick's grunts in between your yelps.
Will would have his head for this.
But, who's to say Santi and Frankie wouldn't do the same either?
Then again, what's the harm in just a quick peek and run, right?
Well, everything. He could be dead on the spot.
He's seen the displays of affection you two have for each other, Rick doing so to spite the group as well but as much as Benny hated to admit it, he could see the true love both of you shared. He was grateful you found happiness just as he was disheartened that that happiness wasn't him.
But, as long as your husband was treating you well, then why should he complain? And judging by the sounds you're making upstairs, he definitely was.
He sighed, knowing he was a lost cause when he slowly ascended the stairs, testing any parts of the thread that could give him away with unnecessary creaks. He even held onto the handrails like a lifeline, but
The sight in the hallway brought him to a halt— eyeing the dress that lay on the floor slowly filled him with anticipation. Rick's suit jacket was barely hanging on the console table but what caught his eyes was the flimsy material peeking out of the pocket.
Your lacey panties.
Oh, Benny knew he was done for.
He quickly tried to navigate the room before he could even think about the idea of snatching for future use, his only guide was the noises coming from the bedroom, which was at the other end of the floor. Benny had no one to blame but himself, giving in to his curiousity and investigating like an airheaded character in a horror movie.
The closer he got to the door, the smaller his steps became, fearing that one bold movie would give his position away and have his funeral right then and there. And yet, his possible fate didn't steer him from his goal, his cock growing harder since his less-than-welcomed arrival.
And lo and behold, he reached the jackpot. His heart was racing faster than he thought was healthy, but just as he was thinking with his dick, he peeked. Despite the pep talks he gave himself, he could've given himself away when he nearly choked at the sight he was blessed with.
With your face nuzzling the blankets and ass up, Rick relentlessly thrust his hips into yours. He threw his head back, sliding his hand up and down the perfect curve of your spine before smacking your pretty ass. Hard. Each spank he presented drew little yelps out of you, the man above towering over you chuckling darkly every time you did.
Oh, what he wouldn't do to have you underneath him.
The dazed look on your face as you bite into the sheets was hypnotizing. Those sweet red lips that he wants to both kiss and see wrapped around his cock. Just as Benny began palming his cock over his sweatpants, he then noticed your bounded hands, the silky royal blue material was likely Rick's tie. He patted himself on the back, his speculation of you and Rick celebrating what was likely your anniversary was brief when his attention reverted back to your fists, flexing helplessly as Rick picked up the pace.
And to think he once found you intimidating. But just like the first time he met you all those years ago, he still found you very, very hot.
"Rick..!" His name and whatever incoherent nonsense you were trying to tell him were all you could say, as if your brain had into mush, which, frankly, it had. He cooed almost condescendingly dipping his head next to yours. Though his wet hair gave Benny little to know information about what he was whispering about but judging by your little whimpers, it was probably just as obscene as the sounds of his hips slamming against yours.
"Fuck," He growled, snapping his hips when you bucked yours, "You know exactly what you're doing to me, clenching on my cock like that. Dirty girl, aren't ya?"
"I-I am!" You whined, releasing the sheets out of your lips with the lewdest expression Benny's ever seen, "Y-Your dirty girl!"
Fuck.
To have you react in such a way, to be the one to pull himself back just enough to surprise you when he trusts back into you, feeling those tight walls flex around him.
That wet pussy of yours was practically calling him in like a siren.
He could imagine how soaked you were. He’d go as far as licking the sheets if he had to. All for just a taste. Fucker probably gets to taste you every day, Benny thought with great displeasure, and who was he kidding, he probably did.
Benny bit down on the collar of his shirt at the same time your pitch grew higher. He wanted to scream—he couldn’t groan in your ears the way he wanted to, he couldn’t cum all over your beautiful body the way he needed, and he most certainly couldn’t have you the way he yearned for. He couldn’t get too lost in the moment and yet, he was glued to the spot. You were close, and so was Benny, and he knew he couldn’t stay for long. No, it was too risky to stay till the very end.
Just as he questioned his chances yet again, something, or rather, someone threw all of his thoughts out of the window.
“Ain’t she a sight for sore eyes?”
Benny stilled, the heartbeat in his ears was suddenly the loudest it's ever been. He should’ve just run, but being the typical stubborn man he was, he slowly looked back, seeing not just Rick, but you look up at the half-opened door. Through your tears of pleasure, you stared back at the man with wide eyes, but your husband, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to commit a murder, like a bull seeing red and wanted nothing more than to hunt the poor fuckers down. You gasped, teeth grazing the sensitive part of your shoulder before angling his thrusts, effortlessly hitting your sweet spot.
"Better close the door on your way out, kid."
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics ♡
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drabbles-mc · 8 months
Text
A Bet's A Bet
Rick Flag x F!Reader
For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo Square: lost a bet
Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, pining
Word Count: 3.6k
A/N: I love him, what else can I say? 😂 I love to see a gruff, grumpy man squirm a little bit lmao.
Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge @beardburnsupersoldiers @words-and-seeds @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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“This is ridiculous,” Rick muttered as he picked the shot glass up from the surface of the bar.
You laughed as you watched him drink it, his head tilted back for a moment. He hardly even cringed. “I mean, you sort of set yourself up for it.” The offended look on his face was impossible to miss and it only made you laugh harder. “What? He’s literally so good at shooting people that they let him back out of prison to do it. Did you really think that you were going to beat him?”
“You don’t think I could?”
You shook your head before taking a sip of your beer. “I think that remains to be seen.” You flagged down the bartender and asked them to bring Rick another shot. You saw the look he gave you and laughed. “What? The bet was two shots and one—”
“I know, I know,” he grumbled, begrudgingly downing the second shot before looking back over at you again, “Just didn’t think that you would sell me out like that.”
You hummed in amusement even though you knew that he most likely couldn’t hear you over the noise of the bar. “I’m here to keep you honest, Flag.”
The shot glass made a loud clattering sound as he practically tossed it back onto the bar. “I think I might be the only honest one here.” He heard the dramatic gasp you let out at his statement and he laughed before looking over at you. “Yea. Including you.”
Your offended façade only lasted a moment longer before you started laughing again. “Fuck off. If you didn’t want me here, I wouldn’t be.”
“You know I don’t pick—”
“You don’t get to pick anyone from the roster in Belle Reve,” you pointed at him with the beer bottle in your hand, “but you do get to pick who’s gonna be on your team if they’re not behind bars.” His silence spoke volumes and you laughed in triumph. “And here I am yet again!”
“Shut up and drink your beer,” he said, shaking his head like you couldn’t spot the way the ends of his mouth were beginning to curl into a smile.
“Alright,” you took another swig, “but when I’m done, you gotta—”
“I know what I gotta,” he cut you off as he leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the edge of the bar.
“You make it sound so unbearable.” You couldn’t help but to laugh at his dramatics.
He turned around so that he was facing the dance floor. Leaning, he rested back against the bar. He spoke to you even though his eyes were scanning the rest of the bar and the dancefloor to keep an eye on the rest of your team.
“How long you known me?” he asked, still not looking at you.
You laughed as you maneuvered to copy his position. “Too fuckin’ long at this point, I think,” you joked.
“Right,” he agreed with a nod before finally looking over at you. “And in all that time, when the hell have you ever seen me dance?”
You opened your mouth to argue with him, but then you snapped it shut again when you realized that you really hadn’t ever seen it. Not even way back when you were all deployed together and had downtime to fuck around between ops. Things got crazy when the whole squad had too much time on their hands, but no matter the volume of the music or the number of drinks that were passed around, Rick never danced. He got up to plenty of other ridiculous and irresponsible things, but not that.
“Holy shit,” you finally said with a laugh.
His lips flattened into a thin line and he have a single nod. “Yea.”
“Wait a second,” you shut your eyes tight for one moment as your brain started putting all of the puzzle pieces together, creating more of the insane picture that was Colonel Rick Flag, “you’re telling me that we’ve been out here, doing all of this insane shit, and you’ve never—”
“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.
“Because I can’t believe it.” You shook your head. “Out here ready to be murdered by an alien or something when you’ve never even danced.”
“Tell me how those two things are related?”
“Alright,” you said as you shook your head. Bringing your beer bottle to your lips, you downed the rest of it in one go before setting it back on the bar and looking over at Rick. “Let’s go. Come on.”
You started to walk away from the bar and towards the dancefloor. You only got a step and a half away before you noticed that Rick wasn’t following you. You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. Turning back around, you reached and grabbed onto his hand.
“Let’s go!” you said with a laugh.
Rick huffed, but he let you pull him along. If he really wanted nothing to do with it, he would’ve just planted his feet and been done with it. He dragged his feet a little bit but he still went. You felt it the moment it went from you just grabbing onto his hand to pull him along to him grasping your hand back. His fingers hooked around yours, the callouses of his palm rough but still warm against yours. You were glad that your back was mostly to him and that he couldn’t see the stupid little grin on your face over it.
“This is so fuckin’ stupid,” he muttered when the two of you got to the middle of the dancefloor.
You laughed, knowing that it was loud enough that no one else probably heard him, but you certainly did. “And yet,” you stepped in so you were pressed close to him, “you’re still out here.”
He scoffed. “A bet’s a bet.”
You were giddy. “Very honorable of you, Colonel.” There were a few beats where neither of you said anything, neither of you moved, and you couldn’t help but to laugh. Resting your hands flat against his chest, you leaned in so that he’d hear you without having to yell. “I think the bet was more than just you getting out here, Flag.”
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m aware.”
“It’s not that bad. Promise.”
He looked at everyone around the two of you. It was like no one even noticed that he was there, which he would be eternally grateful for after he survived this. He scanned the place, and realized that the only person watching him besides you, was DuBois, the person who had sent him out onto the dancefloor in the first place. Before he watched long enough to see the rest of the team crumble into fits of laughter at his expense, his eyes were back on you. You seemed as unfazed about this as you were about everything else.
“I don’t think you were part of the bet, by the way,” he mentioned as you danced.
You laughed. “Yea, ‘cause you were gonna come out here alone. Sure.” You could see the way he was shaking his head and even though you couldn’t hear him with all the noise in the bar, you were sure that he was mumbling and cursing under his breath. Bringing your hands from his chest to his sides, you forced him to start swaying, trying not to laugh at the confused and disgruntled look on his face. “God you are the stiffest man alive.”
He tried to relax, but now he felt even more on-edge than before. Something about the warmth of your palms soaking through his shirt, noticeable even with how heavy the air already was with the bodies packed onto the dancefloor.
“Liked it better when I was getting shot at,” he finally said.
You laughed, shaking your head before stepping in close enough for your forehead to drop against him, resting just below his shoulder for a moment as you laughed. Peeling yourself away, you left your hands on his sides as you said, “Maybe we should’ve gotten you a third shot.”
“You’re enjoyin’ this way too much.”
“Watching you squirm?” you asked. When he nodded, you could only nod right back. “Just a little, yea.”
It took longer than it should’ve for him to ease into it. And even when he did, he was still awkward, still stiff. Which really as about what you’d expected. You couldn’t deny that it was funny watching Rick Flag trying to force himself to loosen up and have a good time. It’d apparently been too long since he’d really tried to do anything of the sort.
You kept yourself pinned close to him. You knew that he wouldn’t on his own, so you took the initiative and placed his hands on your waist, letting yours come to rest on his shoulders in return. It was amusing to you to see how hesitant he was about it. The same man who had dragged you when you were bloodied and beaten, the same man who you had to cram into the world’s smallest, most uncomfortable spaces with to keep yourselves alive, was suddenly skittish when your closeness had background music to go with it.
Rick was only on the hook for one dance. That was the bet. Mostly because no one thought that he would actually get out there and follow through on it. You couldn’t say that you blamed them, but Rick had never been the kind to back down from a challenge or an order. Or a bet, apparently.
When the song changed, one flowing easily into the next, you thought that he was immediately going to turn tail and run. You’d understand it—you could still feel the slightly anxious and awkward energy coming off of him. Something completely foreign given the source, the same person who didn’t flinch running into a firefight beside you. But despite the small, lingering traces of discomfort, he stayed. Because even though his muscles were still a bit tense, even though he still hadn’t quite figured out what he was like to have a sense of rhythm, he liked the way it felt to have his hands on the small of your back. He liked the way the tips of your fingers reached just past where the collar of his t-shirt stopped.
He hadn’t even felt those thoughts creeping up on him until it was too late. It felt like one second he was looking around to make sure the two of you hadn’t lost anyone, and the next second he was looking back to you and the wind got sucked clean out of his lungs. And you were so unbothered, so unaware. He hoped that it would stay that way.
Not that you’d been very far away from him to begin with, but suddenly you felt so much closer. He could feel the press of your entire body against his, the way that your legs somehow ended up slotted together. His hips were pinned to yours, his arms wrapped tight enough around you so that he was almost completely on-beat with you. At that point, though, he didn’t even care about the rest of it. The racing thoughts in his head were outrun only by the rapid beat of his heart. For the first time all night there was only one thing pulling his focus, and it was you as you stared back at him. You looked just about ready to completely melt into him and his entire mind blanked out one that thought entered his head.
You saw the shift in his eyes, but it was a look that you weren’t familiar with, one that you couldn’t place. Your hand that had been resting in the space where his neck met his shoulder slid up, palm on the side of his throat, fingertips grazing along his jaw. You tilted your head slightly, eyebrows raising to ask the question that you didn’t want to yell loudly in the midst of the club. His response was an equally wordless smile and small nod. You felt your breath get caught in your throat as you looked at him. It was impossible not to feel the way that the two of you were each leaning in closer to the other.
If it hadn’t been so loud on the dancefloor, you were sure that Rick would’ve been able to hear the pounding of your heart inside your chest. In all of the years that the two of you had known each other, all the late nights, long talks, and close quarters, this was the first time that you felt like things were about to cross a line into territory that you wouldn’t be able to backpedal from. You were shocked at how much you didn’t mind the thought of it.
He was close enough to you that you could feel his breath against your skin. Your heart was about to burst clean out of your chest and your lips were just about to touch his. You almost couldn’t believe that it was about to happen.
And then, before it could, you heard the tell-tale sounds of a fight breaking out on the other side of the bar. You didn’t even have to turn around and look to know that it was your team. Some of the most lethal metahumans in the world finally got to have a night out and they just couldn’t fucking handle it.
Rick’s attention snapped over to the noise immediately, the dazed look on his face was quickly replaced with annoyance. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he practically groaned. His arms dropped back to his sides, hands leaving he small of your back leaving an emptiness that neither of you liked or wanted to think too deeply on.
You turned and followed his stride, both of you weaving through the tightly paced groups of people the best that you could. You had no idea what someone said to Peacemaker to get him to swing, but you really didn’t care at that point either. It was bad enough when one team member went rogue, it was worse when it turned into one of the few moments that everyone decided to be on the same side about something and everyone else got involved. You expected this kind of stuff from Peacemaker, but seeing Harley about to smash a beer bottle over someone’s head definitely made you a little extra concerned.
“Alright! Alright!” Rick wasn’t even attempting to hide his annoyance as he started pulling people apart. “Overstayin’ our welcome. Let’s get outta here.”
You caught out of the corner of your eye that DuBois was about to grab his gun and you quickly put your hand on his arm to stop him. He looked at you, peeved at the entire thing. You shook your head. “Not in here.”
He shook his head but he still followed your lead. He wasn’t that dedicated to picking a fight. Once you had him agreeing with you, it became much easier to round everyone up and get them out of the bar. Rick was practically dragging people by their collars but it worked nonetheless. You all had about seven hours before you would get in the chopper and brought back home. With the way things had unfolded so far, some of you might at least be able to use a couple of those to sleep.
Everyone’s rooms were all grouped together. It was a crappy little motel off the beaten path, but it was better than nothing. You were surprised that Waller got you all set up with anything at all, honestly. You’d take what you could get. You and Rick opted to share a room, the foot separating your two queen beds seemed odd now in a way that it never would have before.
“Everyone all locked up in their rooms?” you asked, half-joking, half-serious when Rick came into your room.
He chuckled, nodding. “Yea. All of ‘em are in time-out till we get back to Belle Reve.”
“Yea,” you rolled your eyes as you plopped down and sat on the edge of your bed, “because it’s not like prison is a time-out for them or anything.” You paused, watching as Rick flopped onto the bed that you weren’t sitting on, dragging his hands down his face. “They tell you what happened?”
“No,” he mumbled through his fingers, “but I didn’t fuckin’ ask, either.”
You laughed. “Didn’t wanna know the drama?”
His reply came with no hesitation. “Nope.”
You were shaking your head, helpless to do anything besides stare over at him. You waited, wondering if he was going to say anything about what had happened at the bar with the two of you. With the chaos dealt with and everyone safely stowed away in their rooms, you figured that this was going to be the closest thing that the two of you got to privacy for a while.
There must’ve been a graceful way to bring it up, a way that wouldn’t be awkward or jarring. You just didn’t know what it was. You kept your mouth shut, twisting your fingers into the blanket that rested on top of your bed.
Rick’s eyes were still closed, he was still laying on his bed with his legs dangling off the very end of it because he hadn’t scooted up enough before collapsing onto it. Even with all of that, he still felt you staring at him.
“What?” he asked, not turning to look at you as he did.
You shook his head like he could see you, because it felt like he could. Clearing your throat, you forced out, “Nothing.”
The end of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “Liar.”
It eased some of the tension you were feeling, the laughter that came out of you making you feel a little better about it all. “Shut up.”
Opening his eyes, he turned and looked over at you. “What is it?”
You shook your head. “Nothing, really. Just,” you sighed, “wild night.”
“I mean,” he chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows, “thinkin’ about everything else we’ve been through? Really not…you know…”
You let out a soft laugh, one that was quieter than you wanted it to be. “That’s true.”
“Look—”
“About the bar—”
You both started talking at the same time, both of you stopping when you heard the other. There were a few seconds of awkward silence before you both started laughing. You nodded for him to continue, beating him to the punch.
“Look,” he started again with a laugh, “I was just gonna say…” he trailed off, “I don’t really know what I was gonna fuckin’ say,” he admitted with a laugh.
“I think,” you said, a joking lilt already in your tone, “that considering you’ve never attempted to have any rhythm in your life, you really didn’t do that bad.”
He laughed, shaking his head at you. “Shut up.”
“I mean there’s room for improvement, for sure,” you nettled him just to get another laugh out of him, “but I thought it was going to go much worse.”
“Wow,” he sat up the rest of the way, hands braced on the edge of the bed so he was nearly mirroring the position that you were in, “thanks for the endorsement.”
“It’s an honest one, at least.”
He shook his head but he was still smiling. “Always is with you.”
You figured while you were in the vein of being honest, you might as well go for broke. “I also thought you were gonna kiss me,” the words tumbled out, rushed but clear enough. You chuckled nervously. “You know, before Peacemaker banged some guy’s face off the table.”
Rick’s eyes were still widened from the first part of your statement. He knew that it was his turn to say something, but he couldn’t find the right words. “I thought I was too.”
Warmth spread across your chest at his words, a smile instantly breaking out across your face. Your nerves didn’t dissipate completely, but there was a sense of security in it all that you hadn’t felt before. He could see it, too, the way that your body eased. He was up on his feet again before he could think to stop himself. It only took a couple strides for him to wind up next to you, the mattress sinking slightly beneath his weight as he sat down. He was close enough for the outside of your thigh to be pressed up against his.
“Rick—”
You didn’t get the rest of your sentence out as he leaned in and brought his lips to yours. Nothing you could’ve said would have had any shot in hell at being better than the feeling of him kissing you. You could still taste the faintest hint of liquor off of him from the bar, could feel his stubble beneath the pads of your fingers as they pressed against his jaw. He grabbed onto your waist, his grip firm, like he was determined not to let you or this moment slip away from him a second time.
When the two of you finally came back up for air, you didn’t pull away very far. His forehead was still pressed against yours, chests flush as he continued to hold onto your hip. You smiled, thumb grazing over his cheek as you tried to soak in the moment for all that it was worth.
“You’re better at kissing than you are at dancing, you know,” you finally said, whispering without quite meaning to, like what the two of you were sharing was a secret just for the both of you to know about.
He laughed quietly. “Thank god for that, huh?”
You smiled wider, shaking your head before pulling his lips back to yours. “C’mere.”
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your-averagewriter · 9 months
Text
"I thought they killed you."
Summary: (y/n) is isolated after the disaster on the beach but luckily she's found just in time but just the right people. (Rick Flag x reader)
Word count: 1.0K
Warnings: Blood, injury, violence, weapons, swearing, (usual Suicide Squad things)
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-
I stumble through the forest patting the fire out on my arm, the burnt cloth scratching against my wounds. The mission wasn’t meant to go like this - I can’t believe Blackguard sold us out. Actually I can believe it because I don’t know him, barely any of us know each other which is one of our problems, you can’t just trust strangers on a suicide mission.
So far, I imagine most of the squad is dead and those that aren’t are isolated waiting to be picked off by the soldiers hunting us through the forest.
But I keep going in the hopes that someone is alive or finding anyone at this rate would be good, friend or enemy.
Holding onto the branch above I steady myself as I try to make my way down a hill but I trip falling. I can feel my stomach reeling and despite my head feeling heavier than ever I pull myself up off the ground and continue, desperately, not knowing what’s ahead. It would be nice if next time (if there is a next time) Waller would come up with a plan B or an evacuation tactic but she doesn’t care about what happens to us so I doubt she will.
Soon after I realize that I’m bleeding from my arm, a cut, not deep but not shallow either so I rip off some cloth from my dirtied trousers and tie it around the wound, making sure there’s adequate pressure. At this rate I could bleed out from my wounds before I even get anywhere.
I hear footsteps and voices, although my head is pounding so badly that I can’t hear properly and can’t bring myself to care. Maybe if it’s some soldiers they can finish me off.
Turning the corner I can barely hold myself up but I see a familiar face I certainly didn’t expect to see.
“DuBois?” I question quietly, wondering whether I’ve lost enough blood to start hallucinating. But before I can even take another step I feel my body go limp and I collapse on myself, falling to the ground. All I hear is DuBois saying my name, worriedly before I feel my consciousness leave me.
I feel my eyelids flutter open as I’m met with a pale canopy roof. My head is killing me and my mind is fogged over with confusion and questions. I look down at my body and see all my wounds have been properly dressed and some stitched up. My skin is still dirty along with my clothes but all traces of my blood have been removed. I question why I’m here but that’s when I remember what happened before I must have passed out.
“DuBois?” I say again, quietly as I sit up. I instantly regret it as all the blood rushes to my head and I feel myself becoming faint again but it passes after a few moments.
Looking around the room, there are a couple of wooden chairs and the floor is planked - I can see through the slither of the entrance to the canopy that we’re still in a forest.
Suddenly I hear footsteps from outside the canopy and I instantly reach for my weapons but they’ve been removed so I look for the closest, best option which ends up being a syringe - it hasn’t got any liquid in it but any object in my hand becomes a weapon. I realize my shoes have been removed as I place my bare feet onto the planks, it takes me a second to stand up but after, I manage to limp quietly to the entrance.
My back is pressed up against the fabric of the canopy as I await the impending footsteps, ready with the syringe in hand.
Someone pushes the fabric aside and walks in but as soon as they do I throw my arm around their neck, effectively choking them and placing the needle so it presses against the skin of their neck, not quite piercing it but could easily be if needed.
They don’t struggle and I notice by their uniform that they’re not a civilian but whether they’re friend or foe remains unknown.
Another figure walks in behind the uniformed stranger.
Rick Flag.
My face is a painting of confusion as I look at him and then to the stranger. He walks slowly towards me.
“(y/n).” He says gently. “Put the needle down.” He says again in a soft tone as he walks towards me, hands reaching for mine. “You’re okay.”
“Rick?” I question, not entirely sure he’s there or why. “What are you-What are you doing here? I thought you…” Tears start to brim my eyes as I look at him. “I thought they killed you.” I say, my voice wavering, unable to stop the trembling.
“Put the needle down.” He’commands’ but it’s still gentle. I lower the needle slowly and release the person from my grip. Dropping the needle to the ground, Rick immediately wraps me in his arms.
“You’re okay, you’re safe here.” He reassures me, his hand stroking the back of my head as I bury my face in his chest.
“I don’t understand, I saw them, they had you!” I say. “I saw it with my own eyes!” I exclaim, tears flowing from my eyes now. “I tried to help you but they- they.”
“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter now. I escaped, you escaped. That’s all that matters.”
“And DuBois? I saw him! I swear.” 
“He brought you back here, he said you fainted just after he saw you. You were hurt pretty badly.”
“Why is DuBois here?” I ask and all the confusion is only making my head hurt more.
“Waller went behind our backs and set up a second team. We were a distraction.”
“A distraction? Fucking brilliant.” I mumble, shocked but not surprised at Waller’s actions. “We were sent to die?” He sighs but nods.
“I’m just glad you’re alive.”
“Waller can’t get rid of me that easily.” I say with a small smirk and I can tell that he’s glad I’ve kept my humour throughout this shit show.
-
AN: First piece of writing I've done in a while!
I've been doing exams and working so I haven't posted much but I've finished my exams now so you can expect me to post more (hopefully more Suicide Squad content because I LOVE the movies).
Hope you enjoyed reading and requests are open!
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lacontroller1991 · 6 months
Text
Branded (Rick Flag x GN!Reader)
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Main Master List || DC Master List
Requested by @witchygagirl - If you're still doing them can I request
You have a tattoo where your soulmate first touches you for Rick Flag
from this prompt list
Warnings: Heavy gun usage, gun fire, battle, blood, language, battle wounds
===========
The gunfire rings out around you as sand flies everywhere. If it wasn’t for the light of the continuous gunfire, you definitely wouldn’t be able to see. You shouldn’t even be here. You should be back in Spain, sipping on your sangria on the beach with men waiting for your beck and call. Instead, you’re in the middle of a gunfight on a random ass beach in South America, all because you killed a few people. Ok. Maybe a lot of people. Thus began your time in Belle Reve. 
When Waller had initially come to you with the proposition, you had shunned her away, openly mocking her for ever assuming that you would join her little Task Force. With the more days that passed and the more people you saw leaving, you soon changed your mind, leading you to now. Hands wrapped tightly around your gun as you hide behind a rock, trying to cancel out the screams of your comrades. 
Now you know why it’s called the Suicide Squad.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Your commander yells at you, crashing beside you and catching his breath. “We need your help out there!” 
You look over to him, eyes wide in panic as your lips slightly tremble. “I can’t. My power can’t activate under stress.” 
“You’ve got to be fucking me.” Rick groans from beside you, reloading his gun as he shakes his head in disbelief. When he looks back at you, terrified, he realizes that you’re not joking. “Look at me. Look at me!” He grabs your face with his dirty hands and turns you to him. “This is life and death. Either you fight or you die and I don’t intend on letting any more of my people die. Understand?” You nod your head as he nods his head. “Ok good, on my mark, we’re going to make a run for some better cover. Ready?” He asks, getting into a crouching position as you follow suit, gripping onto your gun like your life depends on it. “Go!” You and him run through the gunfire, firing your own weapons back as you watch men fall to the ground. You feel a rush of pride but it’s short lived when you feel a searing hot pain rip through your leg, causing you to fall to the ground. You try to stand up, but fall short, your leg burning in pain causing you to let out a sharp cry of pain as you look down, the sand underneath your leg getting darker and darker. Just like your vision.
Hearing your cry of pain, Rick’s head whips back until he spots you lying on the sand, clutching your leg. He’s already clear of the gunfire and he could proceed with his mission, but there’s something about you that is preventing him from going forward. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself before fixing his gun and running back into the line of fire, making quick work to grab your ankle and drag you towards the bushes. “I hope I’m right about this.”
—-------
You wake up to birds chirping at people talking though you don’t know where you are. You remember being shot, and then dragged through the woods by Rick, but besides that, you have no clue what’s going on. Moving to sit up, a warm hand places itself on your shoulder, not letting your rise any higher than that. “Woah there, just relax, you’re safe.” You turn your head to the voice and see your commander sitting there with a soft smile on his face.
“Colonel Flag? What’s going on? Where are we?” He removes his hand from your shoulder and places it in his lap, but something is off about it. Did he always have that tattoo on his hand?
“We’re safe, that’s all that matters. We’re waiting for an evac off this hell hole,” he murmurs, looking around the makeshift tent as you nod, turning to look into the mirror on the desk across from you, confusion all over your face. 
“What the hell is on my face?” You try to inspect it a little closer, but again, Rick’s hand pushes you back down, a blush on his face. 
“Well, uh, you know how some people get tattoos where their soulmate touches them for the first time,” he comments as you nod your head. Of course you do. Everyone in the world knows that. And only some are lucky enough to have that. “I think we’re soulmates.” 
“I must have a concussion because this can’t be real,” you comment, but he shakes his head, grabbing the mirror and holding up to your face, placing his hand next to the mirror. In the mirror you can see the exact same symbol on your face that’s on his hand. 
“Concussion or not, it’s real.” He comments as the sound of a helicopter echoes in the distance, causing his head to look outside. “That sounds like our ride. We’ll discuss this later, ok?” You nod your head in confirmation as he gives you an awkward pat on the back, not really sure where to go, but at least you guys will have each other.
===========
General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @fairchildflag @a-reader-and-a-writer
Joel Related Tag List: @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachelh1992 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @knivesareout @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @katjnordstrom96 @tavners @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @madkovacs @wxr-zxne @wtfobiwan @alieninoklahoma @violetmuses @neon-supernova
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maarriiii · 1 year
Text
Breathless | Rick Flag
A/N: In my world, Rick Flag is still alive and well.
Summary: An unexpected visit from the one and only, Colonel Rick Flag, let to a revelation
Pairing(s): Rick Flag x female!reader
Warning(s): None.
my masterlist :))
~~
"Flag?" Rick Flag looked up from his boots and was met with the sight of a confused y/n l/n, standing in front of her apartment door. For a few seconds, the former colonel had to do a double take with how casual her appearance was. y/n was clad in a worn out T-shirt with some sort of stain on her chest and a pair of denim jeans. Her hair was tied up with strands of hair framing her face. If Rick didn't recognize her from the times that they've worked together, then he would've thought that she was just a normal civilian living her life. But, y/n was anything but. A trained assassin wanted by every agencies possible for countless of political assassination domestically and internationally.
"Hello, um," Rick shook his head and cleared his throat. "Hey."
"Hi. What are you doing here?"
"I was just in town and thought I'd give you a visit."
y/n squint, watching his movement. "I never told you where I live in Gotham."
Rick gulped underneath her gaze and stuffed his hands inside his jacket pocket. Rick wasn't a man that's easily intimidated. He had fought many atrocious people during his time in the army and worked with the worst of the worst almost on a daily basis. He needed to grow a thicker skin because of it and he did. But, as y/n watched him intently, trying to decipher the meaning behind his sudden arrival, he couldn't help but remember how deadly this woman in front of him. How she could kill him with a single touch, hide his body and returned to whatever she was doing without anyone noticing.
"Rick." y/n snapped him out of his thoughts. "How did you know where I live?"
"Alright, I might've asked a couple of people to track you down. And I might've asked Dubois too. Since, you know, you both worked together before," he explained, feeling ashamed for some reason.
"Wow, Rick, all that effort just to find me? I'm honored." She smiled.
"Well, you're a hard woman to find. Can't blame me to ask for favors."
Rick heard her genuinely laugh for the first time and he couldn't resist the smile that slipped his lips. She was always so guarded during missions, a few quips here and there about him, Waller or the utter ridiculousness of whatever teammates she was assigned with. Even when Harley let out the most ridiculous things out of her mouth, y/n was always tight lipped. He was lucky if he saw a smirk from her. Rick won't admit it out loud, but he was liking this side of her.
He was immediately engulfed with a delicious smell that almost made his stomach growl when he entered her apartment. It was a small apartment and from where he stood, Rick could see the kitchen with an array of ingredients on the counter and pans on the stovetop. The living room was to his right where the local news was playing on the tv and books were scattered on the coffee table. On his left was a hallway with three doors leading to what he assumed to be bedrooms.
"Bathroom is the second door on the left." y/n looked at him over her shoulder. "You want anything to drink? I have beers, soda, water."
"Beer would be fine. You got people comin' over? That's a lot of food." Rick nodded to the ingredients scattered on the counter.
"Harley's gonna come over soon and she likes to eat a lot." She shrugged, sipping her tea. "You hungry? I think I made enough for three people. Harley's gonna have to share though."
"No, no, you don't have to. I'm fine. Thanks."
"Suits you then. But, for your information, I've been told I'm a phenomenal cook." She winked at him. "So, to what do I owe you the pleasure, Colonel Flag?"
To say y/n was surprised when Flag showed up at her door was an understatement. After the mission in Corto Maltese—and blackmailing Waller—she never thought she'd see the rest of her remaining Task Force X teammates again, let alone her former Colonel. She did keep tabs on all of them, even Nanaue for some odd reason unknown to her, but that was it. The last she heard from the man in front of her was that he quit the task force and moved to D.C. That was five months ago.
Rick was silent for a moment before he spoke. "Just a casual visit to a friend. You know, just making sure you're not getting into troubles."
"Hm. And do you do this house calls to everyone?" y/n questioned, a playful glint on her eyes.
"You just so happened to be my first visit."
y/n rolled her eyes. "If you wanted to see me, Flag, you know you could just say so. There's no need to make up a reason. I won't judge."
"What makes you think that, l/n?" A smirk slipped his lips.
"Oh, please, I was always your favorite on the squad. You always make the effort to personally escort me from my cell—and don't even deny it cause I overheard the guards once. You put an overwhelming amount of trust in me to watch your six and save your ass. And lastly, you stare too much."
"Well, you were—you were the most competent and less likely to kill me if I turn my back on you. What do you mean I stare too much?" Rick frowned.
y/n leaned her elbow on the counter, her head tilted on her hand and a mischievous smile on her lips. She was dangerously close to his face even with the island counters separating the two of them. Rick could smell the spices she used on her and it overwhelmed his senses in the best possible way. The only time they were this close was on a mission where both of them were covered in mud and blood. He had to admit he did sometimes stare at her during mission. y/n would be checking her gear, incapacitating an enemy, or just talking to Harley and he would avert his eyes to her. Harley caught him doing it one time and he had to act like he didn't know what the hell she was talking about. So much for subtlety.
"I mean, sometimes I could feel your eyes on me and when I turned around, you're already looking away," y/n whispered slowly.
"I was just checking to make sure you're not planning something that could endanger the mission."
"At first, I thought the same thing. I thought you were just doing your job. But, then it lingered just a few seconds too long and in places where you shouldn't be staring."
"I, uh, I didn't mean to make you comfortable or anything like that."
y/n smiled at his reaction and inched closer to his face that she could feel his breath on her face. "Don't worry, soldier. I'm just glad the feelings mutual. I haven't exactly been innocent on the staring too."
She trailed feather light touches on his neck with both of her hands and she could feel him tense underneath her touch. She brushed his surprising soft lips with her own and was satisfied when Rick closed her eyes. He leaned his forehead on her and gripped his beer with a little too much force as if he was holding himself back. y/n could just end their waiting and kissed him hard like she always wanted to ever since she saw him shirtless in that hut in Corto Maltese. But, she thought it was fun to torture him like that.
"You're gonna kiss me or just leave a man hangin' like this?" He breathed out, eyes still closed.
"I like seeing you like this. I don't think many people could say they made Colonel Rick Flag so breathless."
"You're killin' me here, sweetheart."
y/n shivered at the nickname. "Wouldn't this be a good way to die."
Without any warning, Rick pressed his lips against hers and cupped her jaw. His calloused thumbs gently brushed the apple of her cheeks and y/n couldn't resist the urge to melt at the gesture. For years, all she ever focused on was vengeance to the people that stole her life and weaponized her. She didn't imagine she would surrendered so easily to the foreign feelings, to Rick Flag of all people. But, as their lips molded like two pieces of a puzzle, all she could focus on was him. y/n held both of his hands and squeezed, a silent sign that she trust him. The man she used to despised with all her being. Her colleague, friend, and something more if the universe deemed her to be a good enough person despite her bloody past.
A small whimper escaped her lips when Rick pulled away, but they were still close enough to feel each other pants. y/n didn't open her eyes, still too caught up in the euphoria that was his lips. Her mind was screaming at her for being so vulnerable and unguarded, but she couldn't care less. All she wanted was him.
"Looks like I'm the one makin' you breathless this time, y/n."
"Seems so." She smiled. "I gotta say, Flag, you're one helluva kisser."
Rick chuckled. "I try not to disappoint."
"Any more secret talent I need to know about?"
"I think I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Though, I'd rather take you out to dinner first."
y/n finally opened her eyes and gazed at him. "I like the sound of that."
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