#Robert Dubois | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

your-averagewriter · 10 months

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"It’s the only goddamn hat you’re gonna get.”

Summary: At the bar, everyone's drunk and dancing but DuBois finally decides to do something about Rick's hands around her waist (Robert DuBois x fem!reader).

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, drinking, kissing, making out

We enter the bar and immediately we’re met with bright lights and strippers, sounds like a good time is what I think. The music isn’t too loud so we can actually hear each other. I’m reminded as we sit down that we’re not here for fun, we’re here for the Thinker. Of course, the first time I’ve been to a bar in months is for a mission and not fun.

I’m cheered up though when Peacemaker beacons over a waiter and orders a round of drinks.

“Hey, piss maker, you’re on a mission.” I chuckle at the nickname.

“Easy, Inspector Gadget.” He moves mockingly. “A little drink never hurt nobody.”

“Except for the 1000s of people killed in drunk driving accidents every year.” Polka-Dot man pipes up, depressingly.

“C’mon Robert, I hate to agree with this guy.” I say, indicating to Peacemaker. “But you should let loose a little. Who knows, this could be our last drink?” I say as the waitress brings the drinks over.

“Fine, one drink.” DuBois gives in.

“You’re gonna be that guy?” Peacemaker mocks.

“Yeah, I’m gonna be that guy.”

“Hey, it’s progress.” I say with a smile, throwing my arm around Robert before downing my drink.

After that one round comes another then another and suddenly we’re all on the dance floor. I’m dancing with Cleo, Peacemaker’s dancing too. Although I’m trying to stay clear of him, Rick and Robert are hanging by the side of the dance floor, laughing, looking very tipsy.

I giggle, the alcohol feels great in my system after a while of not being able to drink and dancing with Cleo is the most fun I’ve had in a while. Not that either of us are particularly good dancers but we might not even be alive tomorrow so who cares what we look like.

After a while I head back over to Rick and Robert in the corner as I grasp onto a new glass from the waitress.

“Hey guys.” I say to the two of them, giggling as I go. “Do you guys wanna dance?” I say with a massive smile on my face.

They look at each other then Rick turns back to me with a smile, a silly cowboy hat on.

“I’m down.” He says, leaving his glass on the side after he swallowed the rest of it. “DuBois?” He asks.

“I’m gonna hang back at the bar.”

“Suit yourself.” I say, dragging Rick by the hand onto the dance floor. “C’mon cowboy.” I say with a smirk.

We dance under the bright lights, the colours illuminating our bodies as we dance with each other, Rick’s hands on my hips. I tip Rick’s hat with a smile.

“I’ve always loved your Southern accent, the hat with it is just too much for me to handle.” I giggle as I drunkenly flirt with him. This happens everytime we’re drunk together, the flirting commences but we both know that it means nothing. There’s always a bar trip on the Suicide Squad missions that almost makes up for the traumatic experiences, well not quite but it’s fun.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for cowboys.” He says.

“Neither did I.” I chuckle before resting my head on his chest as a slower song starts playing - nothing too romantic but a bit more slow tempo.

After a while, Robert walks over to us and I pull myself off Rick ready to welcome him to the dance floor.

“Robert, you finally dancing?” I ask as I continue to move to the beat of the music.

“Thought it was about time.” He says with a small smirk, placing his hands on my hips like Rick did although it didn’t feel like this with Rick. And I certainly didn’t miss the dirty look from him to Rick. “So you and Flag, huh?” He asks over the music and I start laughing again. “What? What’s so funny?” He questions, confused.

“We’re not together.”

“It certainly sounded like it.” He sighs.

“Well, it isn’t. You jealous? Do you not like Rick?”

“No and it’s complicated.”

“Why? Rick’s great.” I say with a beaming smile - I’ve always loved my friends and kept them very close to my heart and I still do despite these conditions.

“He was dancing with you and touching you.”

“Okay?” I say, confused on what the problem is. “I asked you to dance with me and you didn’t want to.” I say with a frown.

“Oh, trust me I did. There are very few things I would’ve wanted more.”

“Why didn’t you do anything?”

“I’m trying to now.”

“Then do something.” I say and he grabs my hand, I follow him to the toilets. Once inside he locks the door and presses me against it.

His lips are on mine in a second and quickly I wrap my arms around his neck pulling him closer. I can feel the wood of the door rubbing against my back but all I care about are his lips, how they so fervently move against mine like a starved man.

After a few moments he pulls away from me and I chase his lips only to be met with a chuckle.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks.

“Yes. Are you?” I say, quickly.

“Fuck yeah. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

He taps my leg then his waist signalling for me to wrap my legs around him. I yelp, surprised when he hoists me up and moves to sit me on top of the sinks. He laughs against my lips at my reaction.

“You said you weren’t jealous of Rick.” I smirk.

“I lied. I was jealous because every man in the room was looking at you, watching your body as you danced to the music with Cleo then when you danced with Rick. I had to watch as his hands rested on your hips where mine should’ve been. I watched him flirt with you like I wanted to.”

“You should’ve got a cowboy hat then.” I say, chuckling as I watch Robert’s reaction, his eyebrows creasing. “I’m just joking.” I say and his lips seem to melt against mine as his tongue licks across my bottom lip requesting entry which I grant willingly.

I release one of my arms from around his neck and reach to his head where a navy beret lies undisturbed. Gripping onto it, I hoist from his head and dangle it in front of his face before dropping it gently on my head.

I giggle as I turn to see my reflection in the mirror. It looks a little silly and it’s too big for me but I can’t complain.

“Get back here.” Robert beacons as I turn back away from the mirror to reunite with his lips.

“Don’t worry, I like your hat plenty.” I say, unable to stop giggling against his lips.

“Good because it’s the only goddamn hat you’re gonna get.” He says, his voice rough.

AN: Hope you enjoyed reading!

Also I might write another Rick Flag fic using the speech from this fic so keep an eye out.

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marveldc-imagines-hub · 2 years

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Imagine Trying to Cheer Nanaue up With a Makeover:

A/N: I love Nanaue/King Shark from The Suicide Squad very much and I haven’t written an imagine in forever, so here’s a silly thing I came up with at like 2am a couple of nights ago. Also Reader is a part of the Suicide Squad in this so... yeah. Also, this was beta read but it was beta read at 5am so... yeah, lol.

“Do you think he ever gets bored of like… just wearing jeans?”

Cleo stopped staring out of the bus’s window to glance down at you slumped against her shoulder, then to where Nanaue was sitting across the aisle pouting. She looked back at you and after a moment gave a low-energy shrug. “I don’t know, I don’t think he seems to mind. He’s probably more upset about the fake moustache.”

Poor Nanaue, not being allowed to join the rest of Task Force X-slash-the Suicide Squad in the gentlemen’s club to find the Thinker. Your skills on the team included using technology to make realistic illusions that would have dealt with the “King Shark doesn’t have a feasible disguise” problem that DuBois and Rick were using to keep Nanaue out of the public eye but when you offered up the suggestion, you were shut down by the secondary issue of the demigod seeing every living creature as food. So there you were, feeling bad that Nanaue couldn’t join the fun as the bus slowly pulled up to the club.

“Well, guess it’s time,” Cleo commented at you. She lightly shrugged and you moved off of her so she could place Sebastian on her shoulder instead. Then she stood up and adjusted the dress she was wearing as her own disguise.

Sebastian gave you a cheerful wave and squeak as he passed and you smiled and gave him a quick head pat in return. You however made no other move to prepare to leave the bus, which had Cleo quirking an eyebrow at you and shooing you to move so she could get past.

“I don’t think I’m going to go,” you said as you pulled your legs up onto the chair and wriggled your way across the seat to give her room to get out.

“Why not? It might be fun.” Despite her very casual attempt to convince you, your rat-controlling friend shuffled past you into the aisle.

“Might be,” you admitted, “but it’s not fair that all of us aren’t able to go. Besides, I don’t drink and clubs aren’t really my scene.”

Cleo snorted and offered you a smirk. “And you think it’s mine? Or his?”

She pointed and you looked over at Abner, the Polka Dot Man, who was trying to decide whether or not he should tuck in his shirt while Dabois and Rick tried to brief the team in the aisle next to him, with very little success.

You smirked back. “To be fair, you look very pretty. Like my grandma. In her coffin.”

The comment earned you a flick to the forehead, which made you snicker. Then Cleo shoved her hand into your face as she flipped you off but she had a goodnatured smile on her face all the while. “Fuck you.”

“Hey,” Rick suddenly hollered in your direction, and the two of you jolted to look over; he was coming your way. He stopped in front of you and Cleo, grabbing the back of the seat in front of you as he threw an expectant look your way. “What are you doing? Get up, we’re about to go.”

You frowned and looked over at Nanaue again, who had now moved to grumble in the back of the bus. His back was facing the rest of the team in pouting defiance.

“[Y/N],” Rick scolded, “no.”

You turned back to the man with a puppy dog-eyed pout. Outside of Harley Quinn, you were the longest reoccurring member of the Suicide Squad–killing, robbing, and being good at your job had a habit of doing that to people under Amanda Wallace’s thumb–so you and Rick knew each other well. Well, not well; you barely knew each other really, but you had a love-hate relationship that you enjoyed. That is, you loved to give him shit and he was forced to admit that you were a pretty good asset and thus had to endure you.

“Ricky,” you whined, flinging yourself over his arms, “he looks so sad, though.”

Rick sighed but made no move to remove you. He knew that if he actually tried to wrangle you, you would do the exact opposite of what he ordered you to do, so he tried half-hearted reasoning. “We are this close of being done here, [Y/N], and this whole thing would be a lot easier if you could just… illusion us in and out of there.”

You gasped, eyes growing starry as you stared up at him. The expression changed from lovestruck to morbidly amused in a flash as you smirked, “Aw, Richard, are you saying you need me?”

“I’m saying it would be easier–”

“Say please~”

“No.”

“Please~?”

Rick looked like he wanted to bash his head into the nearest wall. The thought made you giggle. After a few moments of what you assumed was silently begging whatever higher powers existed to give him patience, the soldier’s eyes rolled back to glare at you. “Please, would you just–”

“What’s going on?” DuBois yelled from the front of the bus. You peeked over Rick’s shoulder and saw his older war buddy glaring. The man, first name being Robert and alias being Bloodsport but you liked DuBois better, was messing with his mundane clothes like everyone else with. You supposed that being imprisoned for a while with only orange jumpsuits to wear would make any other clothing feel a little odd.

You answered before Rick could with an aggressive wave in DuBois’s direction, just to make sure he knew who was talking. “I’m not going!”

DuBois’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “You’re not going? Why?”

“They are,” Rick tried to intervene, “Just give us a minute–”

“We don’t have a minute!”

“We also don’t need a minute!” you chimed in. You sat high up on your knees on the bus seat and tapped Rick’s nose with a finger. “I’m not going. The idea of needle-head man freaks me out and it’s probably smarter to leave Nanaue versus a very nom-nom-looking human bus driver, yeah?”

You heard shuffling from behind you followed by a questioning sound from the shark-man in question. “Nom-nom?”

“No,” Rick, DuBois, and Cleo sounded at once, then Rick gave you a glare.

The kindly stating that you weren’t going didn’t seem to work but pointing out that you were more qualified to keep Nanaue from eating people than Milton was definitely a swaying argument. Just for added effect, you clasped your hands together and gave Rick your best puppy eyes and smile once more, although it once again cracked and turned into an expression that was a little more unsettling when you pleaded, “I’ll be good, I promise! C’mon, Dick Flag!”

“Heh, dick-flag,” Cleo snorted next to you.

Rick frowned but you could tell his resolve was cracking. “You’re not much better than the bus driver. Probably worse. You killed 500 people in two days because you said they all looked like your ex.”

Your eye twitched. “They did! At the time. And if he hadn’t cheated on me and stolen my money, it would have never been a problem.”

DuBois broke first. “Flag, we don’t have time. We’ll figure out something else, let’s just get the hell out of here.”

For a moment, Rick looked like he was preparing to argue further but he quickly decided it wasn’t worth it. He pointed a warning finger at you before turning and walking to the front of the bus, then out of it. One by one, the other squad members followed, until Cleo and Sebastian came up the rear and the two waved at you before departing.

“And then there was three,” you chirped to no one at all, although you were still in the presence of the pouting Nanaue and Milton the bus driver. You sat and waited until your teammates disappeared into the club, then twisted in your seat to face your sharky companion. “Hey, Nanaue!”

Nanaue only grunted in response. After being disappointed twice now, he wasn’t willing to take the bait for a possible third.

You had no intentions of disappointing him, though. You hopped over the back of the bus seat, then the next two, until you were sitting in the same row as him with only an aisle separating you. You waited there for a moment to see if you would earn anymore acknowledgement and when you didn’t, you slid over to sit directly next to him.

The so-called King Shark’s small, dark eyes watched you but when you got closer, he harrumphed and turned as far away from you as he could without literally leaving the bus through one of the windows. You gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder but his only response was to cross his arms and growl over his shoulder at you, “Go away.”

“But Nanaue, how will we go explore the town without each other?” you asked. In the meantime, you pulled up the sleeve of your disguise’s puffy blouse and fiddled with the dials on an augmented arm brace that you wore underneath. Once you were satisfied, you pressed a button on the brace an a small puff of pink smog was released from a grate on the device’s wrists. For anyone else, the puff was simply a small billow of colored air that smelled a bit sweet, but you knew that there was an army of microscopic nanobots following your orders. As the smoke dispersed, you pulled down your sleeve again and wafted a breeze in Nanaue’s direction.

“No exploring,” Nanaue pouted, “No disguise. No fake moustache.” Then he caught a whiff of your brace’s work and shifted to catch you still waving air at him. “Ew. What is that?”

“Well,” you started, then paused as you took a glance at the bus window to confirm your nanobots were working. The reflection in the glass showed you sitting next to a random, albeit large, human man instead of a sharky hybrid and you grinned. With a point at the window to draw Nanaue’s attention there, you continued, “It’s not a fake moustache but it’s one heck of a disguise.”

Nanaue looked at the window, then grunted in confusion at it. You drew his attention to the reflection itself and then he growled at the reflection that didn’t seem to look like it belonged to him, only for him to be surprised that that the human reflection moved with him. You watched with an amused little smirk as he executed some tests; he raised a webbed hand and the human reflection followed, he tilted his head and the reflection did the same. It took him a little while to get to the most obvious conclusion–that the human reflection following his movements was in fact his own–but then he looked at you as he raised both hands to his face, patting lightly. He groaned confusedly with a twinge of sadness, “Human?”

“Oh, gosh, no,” you said as you quickly shook your head. You placed your hands over the shark-man’s own and squeezed, giving his face a squish. “You’d be much less fun that way, promise. I just gave you a little disguise of your own so you wouldn’t feel left out on the party! You’re still all sharky-like, I just changed what everyone else sees.”

“Party?” Nanaue echoed as he dropped his hands. His head lurched to look towards the club where the rest of the team had gone.

“I mean we could go in the stuffy boring bar,” you admitted with a tilt of your head and a bored sigh for effect, “or we could take a walk on the town. Check out the stores, try some of the local cuisines, have a nom-nom chaser or two…”

Nanaue’s eyes shined like little black pearls; he didn’t get some of the words you were saying, like cuisine, but he certainly understood nom-noms. He got to his feet, jostling you and the entire bus in the process, and pushed into the center aisle. In the process, one soft, silvery hand engulfed your own human-toned one and Nanaue dragged you after him. “Friend and Nanaue get nom-noms!”

You would have clapped if you had both hands free but you simply grinned and followed Nanaue off the bus, much to bus driver Milton’s dismay.

~~~~~

“Nanaue~” you sang from your perch on a chaise-style lounge chair in a random clothing boutique. The rest of your sentence faded off a bit as your eyes caught a particularly interesting tidbit in the magazine that you were perusing and you casually kicked your feet as you looked the text over. Towards the end of the reading, you remembered that you had been saying something and shook your head to refocus. “Nanaue, how’s it going in there?”

Some grumbles sounded and the curtain that separated from you from the dressing room that your companion was in shivered. From the gap between the floor and the curtain’s end, you could see Nanaue’s feet turning, and a bulge appeared caused by his dorsal fin appeared briefly in the fabric as his back faced the exit. Eventually, he got twisted around enough in the tiny space to be able to grab the curtain, but rather than pulling it open properly, he yanked it off it’s rail completely and tossed it to the side.

You tossed your magazine to the side and clapped as he wriggled himself free from the dressing room and stepped out into the viewing area. “Look at you! What an outfit for a man! So much better than some of the stuff that everyone else was wearing, like that god-awful yellow shirt that Rick had on. Didn’t fit him too bad, though.”

Not too long into your and Nanaue’s tour, you managed to find a store that sold clothes for larger men. With some minor editing–like tearing a hole in shirts for a fin and hemming some pant legs–you were able to come up with enough outfits for Nanaue to give you a little fashion show and the demigod, high on exploration and human flesh, was in a good enough mood to give you what you wanted. Instead of his usual and only pair of ratty shorts, Nanaue now wore a pair of what looked like jeans but were made with a stretchier fabric along with a tank top and a brightly patterned button-up polo shirt.

“And I thought the jean jacket was the best one.” You chirped as you hopped to your feet. You tried to circle him and assess the outfit from all angles but to no avail because Nanaue started turning with you. You checked out the outfit in the three old mirrors that faced the viewing area from different angles instead and noticed the collar of the overshirt twisted oddly–probably because it wasn’t really a shirt meant for people with fins on their backs–so you stepped up to Nanaue and fixed it for him. Then you stepped back and placed your hands on your hips with an approving nod. “This one’s definitely the best. What do you think?”

Nanaue shrugged but then appeared to notice one of the mirrors for the first time. He eyed himself a bit and flapped his arms, then shrugged again. “Okay.”

“That’s all?”

“Mhm. Hungry.”

You sighed but you couldn’t really blame him. He was quite big, after all.

“Well, let’s head out then. Sorry for the lack of cash, Ms. Shopowner, Ma’am! You’ll just have to put it on our tab.” You waved over to the counter, where the bloody remains of an arm sat on the glass, then headed toward the shattered front window of the boutique with Nanaue in tow. “Wait, do clothing stores even have tabs? Hm.”

Nanaue shrugged yet again and grabbed the leftover arm as he ambled after you.

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