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#rick flag x f!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 ♡
387 notes · View notes
foli-vora · 3 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.
130 notes · View notes
Surprise!
Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag
Summary: Rick loves sneaking up and scaring you when you least expect it. But turn about is fair play….
Word Count: 1371
(Fic is 100% inspired by this GIF)
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You loved your boyfriend, but sometimes he could be a real jerk. Lately, Rick had gotten it into his head that his new favorite thing to do was to scare you. Well, more like surprise you. He would wait until you were coming out of the bedroom or walking down the hall, then he would use his Special Force stealth training to sneak up behind you and kiss your cheek, causing you to jump nearly through the ceiling. Or he would get home early from a mission and slide his arms around your waist while you were doing dishes, resulting in more than one broken glass. Or his latest endeavor had been tapping on your car window while you were checking emails on your phone, leading to you glaring back at his delighted face.
But the final straw came when you had arrived home after a really rough day at work. Throwing your keys onto the counter, you start searching through the refrigerator for any leftovers that might have been forgotten. You found an old container of Chinese food that still looked edible, so you grabbed a fork and started walking to the bedroom.
“Welcome home, darlin’.”
You jumped a foot into the air as you lost your grip on the container of food, shrimp and noodles spilling across the floor. You glared at the relaxed, grinning form of your boyfriend splayed out on the couch with a beer in his hand.
“Damn it, Rick! How many times do I have to tell you not to scare me like that! Now what I’m I supposed to eat?”
Rick held up his hands in self-defense. “Hey, I’ve been laying here for the past twenty minutes. It’s not my fault you’re not very observant. Besides, that stuff had been in there for over a week. I did you a favor.”
“You could have at least cleared your throat or given me some sort of sign you were there. We’ve talked about this!”
“I know, but you keep giving me the perfect opportunities. How am I supposed to just pass that up?”
You crossed your arms in annoyance. “Well, how would you like it if I scared you like that?”
He chuckled as he took another sip of his beer. “You could try, but I don’t get scared. Plus, I’ve been trained too well to let you get the drop on me.”
“Well, we’ll just see about that!” Turning around in a huff, you stormed off to the bedroom with Rick’s snickering following you down the hall.
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For the first few days after the challenge had been issued, Rick was extra on edge, coiled like a spring just waiting for you to try something. But you were no idiot. You knew that if you wanted even the slightest chance to scare Rick, you needed to bide your time and wait until it wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. And slowly but surely, Rick began to relax again. He was no longer peeking around corners or entering a room as if scanning for armed gunmen. But it wasn’t until three weeks later that you finally got your perfect opportunity.
Your boss had given everyone an unexpected half-day so the IT Department could install updates on the office computers. This meant that you arrived back at the apartment early, but you didn’t think much of it until you opened the door and heard the shower running. A smile slowly stretched across your lips. Rick was expecting to have the apartment to himself for at least another four hours which meant…..
You heard the shower turn off and you quickly dove behind the couch, phone at the ready. There was no way you were going to miss the opportunity to catch this on film. You listened as the bathroom door opened and Rick’s feet padded down the hallway. Just as it sounded like he was at the edge of the living room, you burst up from your hiding spot and yelled, “Boo!”
It was even better than you had hoped. Rick was wearing nothing but his multicolored towel wrapped loosely around his waist. As you popped up, he jolted wildly, arms flailing and a surprisingly high-pitched scream coming from his lips. “Ahhh!!!...... Fuck!”
At this point, you were bent over, cackling in triumph and joy. You glanced up and were happy to see a small smile on Rick’s face.
“What? You think that was funny? Well, you got me good.”
Tears streaming from your eyes, you managed to choke out, “Oh my god! I’m sending this to everyone! Wait until Harley sees it! She’ll never show you any respect ever again! And DuBois! Has your old military buddy ever heard you screech like that?”
“Don’t. You. Dare.” Rick growled, but you could still see the twinkle in his eyes. He rushed over and tried to grab the phone from your hands, but you dodged, twirling just out of his reach. A wide shit-eating grin spread across your face as you hit the send button and then tossed Rick the phone. “Here you go!”
He stared dumbfounded at your phone now in his hand. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
A small ding could be heard as Rick’s phone alerted him to a new message. Picking it up off the counter where he had left it charging, he glanced at the screen and then rolled his eyes in your direction. Turning it to face you, you could see the video you had just sent him with the bold message “GOT YOU” right above it.
“We both know you were going to try to downplay the fact I actually scared you. Just say you were startled, or your instincts kicked in. So, I wanted to make sure you saw the proof because there’s no denying that! I got the drop on and scared the great Rick Flag!” You smugly crossed your arms over your chest, daring him to refute the evidence.
Rick sighed sadly. “No, you’re right, darlin’. A man’s got to know when he’s been beaten. You scared me.”
You walked over and wrapped your arms around his neck. “That’s right I did. Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”
“No. I understand why it bothers you. I’m sorry, and I’ll stop.”
“Thank you, babe. That’s all that I ask.”
Rick ducked his head so it hovered just a few inches above yours. “You know…. That could have been pretty dangerous. I am a highly trained soldier. If I had my gun on me, I might have seriously hurt you.”
“I thought about that, but I figured the chances of you having your gun just after coming out of the shower were very low. And it’s not like you could really hide it in that towel.” You leaned in closer to kiss him, but something stopped you. Trying to hide your smirk, you said, “Well, maybe I was wrong…. It seems like you’re packing something under there.”
Blushing slightly, Rick murmured, “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” He closed the distance between you as his lips crushed into yours. You ran one hand through the damp hair on the back of his head as the other hand ran along the top of the towel, right where the material met his skin. Just as your hand started to ease it lower, Rick’s work phone began to ring. He sighed annoyedly as he stepped away from you to grab it. Growling at the terrible timing, he answered, “Flag here.”
“Oh. My. God.” You could hear Harley’s voice squeaking through the phone even without it being on speaker. “I can’t believe she did it! She got you so good!.... And speaking of so good, I really like what I’m seeing here, Colonel. How ‘bout you wear just that towel on the next mission?”
Rick glared daggers at you as you shrugged sheepishly. “I might have sent it to a few other people besides just you.”
Hanging up the phone, Rick took a few steps towards you, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Oh, you are so dead.” You squealed as you rushed down the hall towards the bedroom, Rick close on your heels as he slammed the door behind him, his towel dropping to the floor.
219 notes · View notes
bludhavents · 2 years
Text
Stay Decent
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pairing: rick flag x reader
warnings: none.
word count: 1.2k
summary: keeping your relationship hidden from the team can lead to arguments--fun, staged arguments.
"Pardon me," You exclaimed, reaching out to lay a hand on Mrs Abrasio's upper back as you passed her, slyly snaking the other into her purse. In the crowd of rich donors chatting amongst themselves, you managed to snag both her cash and her notepad from her purse in a second without being caught.
"Excuse me," She replied sweetly. "I shouldn't have been standing there, my apologies."
"No worries, ma'am. I really like your dress by the way!" You complimented her with a smile before continuing your walk outside to the van where Rick and the Squad were waiting for you.
Before Task Force X left Belle Reve, Waller decided that the best bet would be to send you in alone, not to draw suspicion. Events like these were dangerous--full of shady, wealthy people who may easily recognize somebody like Harley or Blackguard from previous encounters. You, on the other hand, wore a mask when you committed your crimes before Belle Reve, making you the sole candidate for this mission.
"Y/n, if I don't hear an update in the next three minutes, I'm coming in," Rick's voice cut in over the comms. He was in the front of the van, tightening the black tie around his neck as he prepared to rescue you when there was no reply to his warning. Just as he began opening the door, though, you stepped out with a deep sigh.
"Sorry I couldn't answer. Too crowded in there--someone would've noticed me talking to myself," You said as soon as the door shut and it was just the two of you outside, chatter from within the ballroom muffled now.
"Thank god," He muttered, loosening the tie before removing it completely. "You got what we needed?" The two of you walked back to the van, Rick standing unusually close to you.
"Yes, Colonel." You held out the notebook for him to examine. The cash stuffed in your handbag was yours, he didn't need to know about that. "Christ, this fabric is itchy." Your hands tugged at the fabric of the linen dress, trying to keep it from rubbing against your neck.
Rick looked up from the notebook and surveyed you up and down before shrugging off his suit jacket and tossing it to you.
"Here," He said plainly, turning his back to you so that you could change into it. You caught it and stared at it blankly for a long moment, alternating glances between the back of Rick's head and the jacket.
"That's very sweet, Rick, but I don't think this is going to cover me," You spoke to the back of his head, watching as he turned around to face you. You were holding the jacket up to your neck, showing him that it would barely brush the waist band of your underwear, nonetheless cover your ass.
"Just put it on and get in the front seat, I'll find a blanket or something to put on your legs," He said, pushing himself off of the hood of the van and moving to the opposite side to rummage through the glovebox in search of a way to salvage your decency before another member of the squad decided to take a peek.
You smirked to yourself as you put the coat on and then awkwardly tried to shimmy out of the dress while staying covered. The zipper in the back was tricky, but you managed to get it undone and slipped the dress into a pool at your feet, stepping out of it and leaving it on the ground. No way were you going to touch that fabric again. You followed Rick's orders and went to sit in the passenger's seat of the van where he waited outside the door with a loading tarp in his hands and an embarrassed blush on his cheeks.
"This was all I could find," He muttered, motioning for you to sit down as he tucked the tarp in around you.
"Thank you, Rick," You smiled, patting him on the head playfully. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Harley's voice from the back cabin.
"Are we leavin' or what?" She banged on the divider. "I got plans, bozos!"
"What plans, Quinn? You're in prison," You shouted back, Rick's face still close to yours.
"I'm itchin to get a looksie at what you promised to bring me earlier," She called teasingly, earning you a questionable stare from Rick. Your eyes grew slightly and you let out a nervous chuckle.
"Alright, Quinn, don't get your panties in a twist!" You pounded back on the divider.
"You're the only one who makes me feel that way, dollface!" She snorted. You rolled your eyes and smiled widely, but it went away at the feeling of Rick's hand on your leg.
"You doing something I need to know about?" He asked sternly, but the glint in his eye told you that he already knew about the cash. Of course he did, how could you have assumed any differently?
"Of course not," You fiend innocence. "How could I ever betray my sweet, sweet Colonel Flag?" He watched closely as you moved to place your hands on either side of his face, arms otherwise lost in the fabric of his coat.
"I can't be serious with you," He sighed out, leaning into your touch minutely. You smiled and rubbed a thumb mindlessly over his cheekbone.
"Guess I shouldn't kiss you then, huh? Wouldn't want you to laugh in my face or anything," You said, searching his eyes despite your carefree tone.
"I think it'd be good practice," Rick whispered before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He pulled away after a moment and leaned his forehead against yours, eyes trailing down the skin of your neck and chest.
"Eyes up here, Flag," You teased before grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling him in for another kiss. You broke it this time, pushing him away dramatically. He stumbled back from the van and furrowed his brows at you, concern painting his face. "We gotta get back to Belle Reve, Flag. Unless we want one of them seeing us," You whispered the last part.
"Y/n, are you doing something I should know about or not?" Rick shouted in his Colonel's voice, but the smile you saw on his lips betrayed him. He was putting on a show for the others, making them think that the two of you have been arguing this whole time.
"I said that's none of your business, Flag!" You kissed him one last time, grinning giddily against his lips. "If you want to know so badly then ask Waller, she's had eyes on me like a fucking hawk since I got here!"
"Maybe it's cause you're trouble, idiot!" Rick yelled back at you once he was in his seat.
"I miss regular prison," You said as you bit back a smile, slumping into your seat in case Harley or the others decided to open the view window.
"If you were in regular prison you'd have never met me," Blackguard called from the cabin and slid open the view window to face you with an offended expression. "I thought we were closer than this, Y/l/n."
"We met in high school, Hertz," You reminded him. "Go sit back down and let me yell at the Colonel."
"Roger that," He said as he shut the door.
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violetmuses · 2 years
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Kiss It Better (18+ Minors DNI) || A Rick Flag One Shot 
TITLE: Kiss It Better (18+ Minors DNI) || A Rick Flag One Shot 
FANDOM: “Suicide Squad” Film Universe
CHARACTER: Rick Flag
PAIRING: Rick Flag + Female Reader 
MAIN STORYLINE: After completing the Enchantress mission, Rick returns home and hopes to make up lost time with you. 
Author’s Note: As a warning, this One Shot includes SMUT content. (18+ Minors DNI) Adult themes, strong language, etc.
J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96   @mayhem24-7forever @lilisangel @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @bewitchedignition @maddu-oliveira @reveluving @sugapapichulo @hodgepodge-of-rog
__________
2016
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I’ve been waiting up all night.
Baby, tell me what’s wrong?
Gonna make it right. 
Make it all night long. 
“Kiss It Better” by Rihanna (2016)
“Darlin’?” One Southern accent echoed and keys jingle behind you as footsteps enter the house. Instead of squealing with joy and meeting with Rick for the first time in months, you continued washing dishes, rolling both eyes and not even facing him. 
“Hmm?” You mumbled, looking forward as suds ran along your hands. Only minutes later, you finish washing those dishes, rising that sink once the drain-holder is full. 
“Hey,” His voice rasps from behind you and he whispers by the crook of your neck, ghosting his lips and daring to smile. Even his arms loop around your waist, embracing gently with their hold. 
“What about June?” You clip the brief question and it is long before you shrug out of Rick’s touch. 
“It was fake.” He seems to lie. You know damn-well that he slipped off his wedding ring just days before the mission even started. “Caring about her was genuine, though.” 
“Uh huh.” You fold both arms, giving him one leftward but sided view of the wedding ring that you still wore right now. 
He steps closer, and by some miracle, you somehow allow him to kiss the top of your head. Despite anger, you still know that he returned home in one piece. Alive. 
“Nobody else but you.” His accent deepens, cutting down words and sounding just like his father. C’mere.” 
“What?” You tilt your head, smirking.
Your arms unfold and he earns the chance to hold you close now, ending space between you both. Your forehead bumps against his and he smiles towards underneath the brim of his Task Force X cap. His hazel eyes, while veiled, bore into your soul again. 
“Look.” That quick instruction falls from his lips, but still sounds oddly gentle. He carefully lifts his capable but veined hand, revealing the sight of his gold wedding band. 
In truth, you could have melted right there, feeling deliciously weak because of that damn voice alone. 
“You mine, is that what you’re saying?” You dare to tease back, clearing your throat and licking your lips towards him. 
“Yes, Ma’am.” He affirms that truth with the utmost respect, finally leaning inward to kiss you. 
___________
Both tattoos and scars line his lean but agile frame as he looms over you, trailing kisses all over your nude body. As of now, The bedroom is quite dark, but moonlight casts from the nearest window, shrouding you both in shadows later that evening. 
He plunges into your core, almost whimpering himself once he realizes how warm you feel while clutching around him. Even as the condom protects you both, your warmth feels exhilarating, much-needed, overdue. 
“Fuck.” You barely say. With each passing moment, his thrusts within prove torturous and slow, as if you would never allow him to touch you again after tonight. 
“I love you.” He reaches out and grasps your palm, squeezing your hand and moving even deeper inside of you. “I love you so much.” 
Before you can mention another sane word, his thrusts quicken, almost feeling otherworldly. To make matters he stares down at you with those perfect hazel eyes. 
“I’m close..” You whisper beneath him, moving closer and closer towards the edge. 
“Come on…Please.” He then asks, gently speaking by the shell of your ear once more. 
“Yes.” Your warmth finally spills, coating him without fail before he could even try first. 
“Damn.” His eyes roll back, shutting as his brows furrow in the name of his own ecstasy now. 
You can barely sit up before his lips return to your, quieting any upcoming words. This time, he moans into your mouth, desperate to make you comprehend that unspoken promise. 
“I love you.” Three words reveal themselves once you are finally allowed to speak, free from the clutch of his lips. 
“Tell me again. Please tell me.” He caresses your face. His voice nearly hitches, overwhelmed by forgiveness of a sin that never even happened. He was terrified of losing you and tonight almost felt undeserving until you answered him now. 
“I love you. I love you.” You repeat yourself, trying to cement the gravity of this moment.
“I love you too, Darlin.’” His accent returns and he falls asleep in your arms, still resting inside of you. 
__________
You wake up to kisses in the morning and earn breakfast in bed for the first time in months. Despite considering what happened last night, the gestures seemed surprising to you regardless. 
“What now? Are you just gonna spoil me up until the next deployment?” You sit up against pillows, eyeing Rick as he lays beside you. 
“Been wanting to do that, with or without the deployment.” Rick laughs between words and kisses your cheek. 
“Thank you.” You smirk anyway, 
“You’re welcome.” Rick says, halfway embracing your hip. In turn, you only end up landing on your back and softly hitting the sheets.
“Oh, no. Going for round two, Flag?” You chuckle as his shadow and tattooed armed cage you again, still looming.  
“Only if you want.” He asks for consent of course, kindly smiling down towards your face. 
“Sounds good to me.” You wink. 
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Text
Presumed Dead (Part 1)
Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag, f!reader
Word Count: 6384
TW: Whump, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Torture, Capture/ Held Prisoner, Slight Mind Break, Guns, Internal Bleeding, Suicidal Thoughts, Bodily Changes Due to Starvation/Malnutrition, and I reserve the right to not tag all warnings so you have been warned!
Notes: Thank you to @loverhymeswith and @sociiallydiisoriiented for beta reading. I love you both and appreciate all the love and support! 💕
This is part of @that-sarcastic-writer's writing challenge for the prompt "Characters reunited after character A thought character B died". Congrats on your follower milestone! 🥰 This is a DARK fic with dark themes and images. Please do not read if that makes you uncomfortable. It's dark, but it is also one of my favorite things I have ever written! 💖
Part 1, Part 2 (coming soon), ??? (coming soon)
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Running across the battlefield, Rick passed the motionless bodies of both his men and the enemy as he desperately searched for his lieutenant. The last time he had spotted you, you had been shooting at three knife-wielding attackers when your gun clicked empty. Your eyes had met Rick’s for just a brief second before he was overwhelmed by his own enemies. 
Rick hissed as he applied more pressure to the deep wound on his shoulder that was currently gushing blood through his fingers, but he ignored the pain as he continued his search. He had to find you before you became just another one of the bodies scattered around him.
A noise from his left caught his attention and Rick rushed off towards the sound. It led him to a platform overhanging the cliff. As he approached, he could make out a lone figure fighting off two others, and even before he could make out your face, Rick knew it was you. He would recognize your fighting style anywhere.
He pulled his gun from its holster and was taking aim just as both attackers collapsed to the floor, their blood now dripping from your knife. You let it clatter to the floor as you straightened up, trying to catch your breath. Rick could see some superficial cuts on your neck and face, but nothing looked too serious. He let out a soft sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if he had lost you.
You glanced up, instantly dropping into a fighting stance at the sound of him approaching. But then you relaxed and grinned when you saw it was only him. “As usual, you only show up after I’ve taken care of everyone.”
Rick shook his head and smirked at you. “I knew you could handle yourself, darlin’. You always do.”
“I had an excellent teacher,” you said as your grin softened into something more tender.
He knew that was just empty praise. When the two of you had been introduced three years ago, you were already one of the best soldiers Rick had ever met. It was no wonder he fell in love with you almost instantly. The part that still baffled and amazed Rick was that you loved him in return.
You took a step towards him just as you heard a metallic “click”. Both of your heads snapped towards the noise. There, leaning against the support cables for the platform, a wounded enemy soldier held up a grenade in one hand and the pin in the other. He smiled weakly before his head slumped to the side and the grenade slid to the floor.
Rick screamed out your name, but it was too late. The grenade exploded, the blast destroying the support cables instantly. Your eyes, wide with fear, once again met Rick’s for just a moment as you reached out your hand for his. But then the platform collapsed into the abyss below, and you vanished along with it.
Rick collapsed to his knees, staring blankly at the spot you had been standing mere seconds before, hoping beyond hope you would somehow come climbing back over the edge of the cliff. But you never reemerged. You were gone. And you had taken his heart with you.
Rick groaned as he slowly dragged himself from unconsciousness and attempted to roll over. His head was pounding, and his entire body felt oddly weak and sluggish. He tried to think back to what had happened before this moment and where he was, but all he could remember was his nightmare. After three months, he still hadn’t had a single night’s sleep where he didn’t relive the moment you had plummeted to your death. He should have been faster, he should have saved you.
But since he had let you down in life, he had sworn he wouldn’t do the same in death. For the past three months, he had spent every moment tracking down the men who were responsible for your death. Which was how he had ended up here.
It all came rushing back. He had found a lead on the remaining men he was tracking and when Waller had refused to sanction his investigation, he had gone rogue and broken out Harley and Harkness to help him. But when they had arrived at the supposed location, they had gotten separated. And the next thing Rick knew, he was surrounded by enemy soldiers, and something had slammed into the back of his head. That was the last thing he could remember.
As he forced his eyes open, Rick realized he was in a small jail cell. Groaning once more, he sat up on the small cot he had been lying on and looked around, trying to locate the best means of escaping.
His cell had two doors. One led into the main room with another door, presumably to the outer hallway, and one that led directly into the adjacent cell. That cell was almost three times as large as his and appeared to be empty. Unfortunately, neither door seemed like it would be easy to escape from. Rick cursed softly to himself.
“Welcome back, Colonel. It’s been a while.” Rick froze at the sound of the familiar voice that had just called out to him. But it couldn’t be. You were dead…. Weren’t you?
The voice languidly continued. “Normally you show up every few days, but this time it’s been what? Almost a week? I thought maybe you were gone for good. Wasn’t sure whether to sob or rejoice.”
“Darlin’?” Rick called out hesitantly, his voice catching in his throat as he scanned the outer room and the other cell, trying to locate where your voice was coming from. He had watched you fall a hundred feet – you couldn’t have survived that – yet he’d know your voice anywhere. It sent a spark straight to his heart, restarting it after three long months.
Finally, he noticed a shape huddled in the far corner of the cell next to his. At first, he hadn’t noticed it because the gray blanket wrapped around the form blended in with the cell walls. But then Rick saw it shift slightly, and he realized what he was looking at.
Still unable to believe the miracle before him, he repeated himself, “Darlin’? Hey, it’s me. Rick. How are you here? I saw you fall…. I-I thought I’d lost you.”
“You did lose me. Then I lost me. Now, I don’t really know if there’s anything left for someone to find.”
Rick’s brow furrowed in confusion as he gazed at the back of your head while you continued to stare at the wall beside you, seemingly indifferent to his presence. He moved closer to the bars dividing your two cells. “I-I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Darlin’, would you please just look at me?”
As you let out a long sigh, Rick couldn’t understand why you weren’t reacting to the fact he was here. Sure, you were both still prisoners, but just the fact the two of you had somehow managed to be reunited after your supposed death should be enough to warrant some sort of reaction: happy to see him, mad he had stopped looking for you, sad he had been captured too – something! But instead, you just continued to stare at the wall.
Rick drew himself up to his full height, and in his most authoritative voice, barked, “Lieutenant! You will look at me. Now! That is an order!”
You scoffed. “You know, even like this, you know how to get your way.” And you turned to look at him.
Rick nearly collapsed as he took in the person in front of him. There were cuts and bruises scattered across your face and neck in various stages of healing, and it looked as if your nose had been broken at some point. Your hair was a matted, greasy mess as if it hadn’t been taken care of for weeks, if not longer. Your eyes stared at him with a dull, foggy heaviness to them that made it seem as if you were staring through him, not at him. Your face had grown gaunt and thin, so painfully thin, while your skin looked as if it hadn’t seen the sun since the day you disappeared – but it was you. It was really you.
Breathlessly, Rick whispered, “It’s true….. You’re really here….”
You chuckled, the sound slightly off, almost unhinged. “But you’re not really here. You’re dead. Or I’m dead? I never remember which one. But I guess I can’t be dead if I’m still in this much pain all the time. Unless this is hell? Actually, that would make a lot of sense….”
As you continued to ramble on about the likelihood that this was hell, Rick could only stare at you in horror. “Oh my god… What have they done to you?”
“Torture,” you said matter of factually as if you had just told him the time. “And drugs. Oh, so many drugs. And none of the fun kinds either. No, just the ones that make my insides burn all night or the ones that turn my brain to mush for days or the ones that make me violently sick for hours …… or the ones that make me see you. Those are the worst. Because for just a moment, every damn time, I let myself believe you are real. But you’re never real. This isn’t real.”
“This time I am. I’m here, I swear. And I’m gonna get you out.”
You shrug, completely unphased by his statement. “That’s what you always say. Though it is strange because they didn’t give me any drugs yet today, so I don’t know why I’m seeing you. Maybe I finally snapped for good. Honestly, I’m surprised I lasted this long. What’s it been, two, maybe three weeks?”
Rick’s blood ran cold. “Darlin’….. You’ve been gone for three months.”
He watched a look of panic cross your face as the reality of the situation hit you. “No… No, that’s not possible. I’ve been keeping track.”
As you rose carefully to your feet, the blanket that you had wrapped around yourself fell to the floor. Rick couldn’t contain his gasp of devastation. If he thought you had looked thin before, it was nothing compared to seeing you fully. You were still wearing the same white tank top you had been wearing under your tac gear when you disappeared, but it was now stained a brownish red with dirt and layers of dried blood. Where it had once fit snuggly over your form, it was now loose and baggy. You had a different pair of pants on than before, but even tied tightly at your narrow waist, they threatened to slip past your boney hips that were now protruding sharply from either side of your body. Ever since the day Rick had met you, you had always been toned and fit for combat, your arms firm and muscular. But now, all of that was gone as your skin was stretched tightly over nothing but bone.
But almost more heartbreaking than your transformation were the marks covering your body. Bruises of various ages and colors covered your skin in a rainbow of reds, yellows, purples, and blues. And littered amongst them were a multitude of cuts and slashes, some fresh and still slightly oozing while others had already left nasty scars. As you crossed the cell to your cot, Rick noticed your very pronounced limp, which slowed your progress. When you began to examine the wall beside the bed, he could just barely make out small tally marks carved into the surface. And as you ran your hand over them as you silently counted, he noticed how cracked, chipped, and bloody your fingernails looked. It was instantly and painfully clear how you had made those marks.
As you finished counting, you looked confused, as if the number didn’t seem right. And Rick had to admit, it looked like there was only a fraction of your time recorded there. But then, you pushed the cot aside, exposing another part of the wall. A part that was completely covered by your crude marks.
You stumbled back, your eyes growing wide and frantic at the sight of just how long you had truly been here. But then, that same foggy expression slowly fell across your face once more, and in a soft voice, you said, “Well…. as they say, time flies when you’re having fun. I guess I just forgot. But then again, I forgot a lot of things.” Your eyes flickered to Rick’s. “But never you. I never once forgot you. Though, sometimes I wish I had. Because then it wouldn’t hurt so bad when it turns out you aren’t really here.”
“I’m so sorry, darlin’. I’m so sorry for all of this. But, you don’t have to worry about that this time because I am really here.”
“That’s what they all say. But it is strange they didn’t give me any drugs yet today so I shouldn’t be seeing you. Maybe this is it and I finally snapped for good. Honestly, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” Your face fell. “Did I.... did I already say that? I think I did but I forget. But I forget a lot of things now. Those drugs they keep giving me scrambled me up pretty good. They make me see things that aren’t real. Maybe this was how Harley felt when her guy zapped her. I can’t remember his name, the guy with the green hair and that awful laugh. But I guess it doesn’t really matter. None of it does. At the end of the day, it’s still me…. Or is it? I can’t remember anymore.”
Rick didn’t even realize that tears had started silently rolling down his face until one dripped off onto his arm. You had always been the strongest, most confident, most intelligent person he had ever known. And seeing you like this, so confused, so broken, so unsure of yourself, it was its own form of torture.
You seemed to notice his tears because your lip began to quiver. “Pl-please don’t do that. Don’t show me that. It’s bad enough thinking about what he would think of what I’ve become, how he would look at me. I don’t need my hallucinations actually showing it to me. I know I’m fucked up, in my head, my body. That’s another thing I can never forget. But I don’t need to see what my colonel would really think of me.”
Rick quickly wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m not- This isn’t because of anything you did or how you are. I shoulda been here sooner. I shoulda known you’d survive and I shoulda tracked you down. I’m so sorry.”
“How were you supposed to know? I barely survived as it was and if I had seen you drop, I would have thought the same thing.” You looked down at your hands and Rick could see you were struggling to hold back your own tears. “But Rick…. I miss you so much. Every single fucking moment of every single fucking day. I thought these hallucinations were a blessing at first because I had you with me, but every time you disappear again, it tears me up inside. And all I want to do is to have one kiss, to hold your hand, to run my fingers through your hair, to smell your skin, something. It’s a physical ache at this point that screams out to me each and every time I see you. I need you as much as I need to breathe…. but you’re not really here.”
“I am! I don’t know how else to convince you.” Rick pressed himself against the bars of his cell as tightly as he could as he reached out for you. “Please, just give it one last try. One more chance to prove I’m really here.”
“You’ve said that so many times. You’ve sat in that cell so many times and tried to persuade me. But I can’t let myself fall for it again. Because every time I reach out for you and my hand passes through nothing, I die a little inside. And I’m completely hollow now.” You squeezed your eyes tightly for a moment, but when you opened them again, the pain was gone, and the old blank expression had returned. “Look, can you just go away? I really can’t deal with you today.”
“I can’t go anywhere. I’m locked up too, remember? Because I’m really here.”
“That’s what they all say. But I can’t do this, not today.”
There was something ominous about the way you repeated ‘today’. Slowly, Rick asked, “What’s so special ‘bout today?”
“You know what.” It was little more than a sigh. And when he didn’t respond, you continued. “I told you, I’m hollow, I’m hurt, and I’m tired. I’m so goddamn tired. I’ve been fighting so hard for so long-” you gestured to the marks on the wall “-apparently for longer than I realized. But I’m done. I just want to go to sleep. But I can’t do…. what I need to do... in front of you, even imaginary you. I can’t disappoint you like that. So please, just leave me to finally get my peace.” You closed your eyes again as your right thumb began to rub small circles just below your left wrist, directly across the vein.
Rick’s eyes widened as he realized what you were implying. Looking around frantically in his cell, he noticed a few small rocks in the corner where they had fallen from the wall. Picking one up, he aimed through the bars and hurled it at you. It slammed into your arm, and you snapped your eyes open as you turned to glare at him.
“Ow! What the hell was that for?”
“Have any of your other hallucinations been able to do that? If I’m not really here, then this shouldn’t really hurt.” Rick hurled the second rock at you, which missed slightly and just skimmed across your skin, scraping it just enough to draw a few drops of blood.
You watched, a look of fascination on your face, as the red liquid welled up on your arm. Hesitantly, you wiped away the stain with your fingertips and stared at them for a moment. Then slowly, you turned to face Rick. And in a hushed whisper, you said, “It’s real, which means…. Ri-Rick?”
Rick nodded, a smile of relief spreading across his face. “Yeah. I’m real. I’m really here, darlin’. I promise you that. And I’ve never broken a promise to you, have I?”
Softly, you shook your head. Licking your lips, you took a small step forward. Then another. With one hesitant step at a time, you approached the bars that are separating your cells. You reached out your trembling hand, but when it was a few inches from the bars, you froze. With tears streaming down your face, you whispered, “I can’t. I-I can’t do this again.”
Rick gave you an understanding smile. “It’s okay. You don’t have to. You’re not alone anymore.” And with that, he reached through the bars to close the distance between your hands, and he linked his fingers with yours.
At the instant of contact, you inhaled sharply and your eyes flew to his. With a strangled sob, you threw yourself against the bars, desperately trying to reach as much of him as possible. Rick slid his arms through the bars as much as they would fit and wrapped you in his embrace as you bawled uncontrollably, your shoulders heaving wildly as you trembled in his grasp. He ran his hand over the back of your head as he whispered, “It’s okay, darlin’. It’s okay. I’ve got you now.”
As you continued to break down, he had to look away and clench his teeth to stop his own sobs from bursting from his chest. It was a miracle he was holding you once again. However, as he drew you close to him, he was horrified by how fragile and frail your emaciated body felt in his muscular arms. He was almost afraid that if he squeezed you too tightly, you would simply snap in half.
For what felt like an eternity, Rick held you in his arms. Within minutes, his muscles began screaming out in pain at the unnatural way he was squeezed through the bars, but he ignored it as he let you cling to him. After all you had been through, he could handle a little discomfort if it eased your suffering even the slightest bit.
But finally, you pulled back to look at him and he was able to shift into a more comfortable position. As he stared at you, he asked, “How did you survive? I saw you fall… probably a hundred feet.”
“I don’t know. I just remember seeing the cables snap and then your face and then…. nothing until I woke up here. I was hurt really badly. Broken bones, a collapsed lung, major blood loss. And my knee was completely shattered. But they didn’t care. They did enough to make sure I would survive but everything else…. Things either healed right or they didn’t. It didn’t matter to them. And when I was coherent enough, the questions started. All about ARGUS and Waller and the Task Force. But I didn’t tell them anything…. Or at least I don’t think I did. After a certain point, my memories start getting fuzzy and I can’t….” 
You looked up at him, tears in your eyes once more. “Rick…. I’m not okay. My head’s really messed up. I’m trying so hard right now to stay focused on this conversation, but I’m… drifting. Unless I really, really concentrate, I can’t remember things and I can’t…. I can’t tell what’s real anymore. I’m still not totally convinced you’re not just some new fucked up dream that I think I can touch.”
Rick cupped your face in between his hands, trying to let you feel as much of his skin, his warmth, as possible. He trailed both thumbs gently up and down your cheeks as your eyes flickered closed in the comfort of his touch. “See? I’m here with you. I’m really touching you and you’re really touching me. It’s gonna be okay. When we get outta here, we’ll get you a nice meal, have someone check you out, and they’ll have you back to your old self in no time.”
Your eyes slowly opened once more to bore solemnly into his. “And if- if they can’t?”
Rick leaned his head against yours. “Then I’ll be right there to help you figure things out. Once we’re safe, I’m never lettin’ you outta my arms again. I swear.”
The two of you remained like that for another eternity before Rick finally whispered, “What are we in for when they come back?”
You sighed. “I don’t really know. They don’t even ask me questions anymore. Obviously, they did at first, but now, they just hurt me or inject me with something then throw me back in here. I don’t know why they even bother keeping me alive anymore.”
Both you and Rick exchanged a worried glance as you processed your last statement. But before either one of you could say anything, the main door opened and six men with guns walked in. You clutched Rick’s arm tightly as they started towards your cell door.
There was nothing Rick could do while he was in a separate cell, but he tried to pull you closer to him, his hands tightly coiling in the loose fabric of your clothes.
As one of the men opened your cell and you cowered into Rick, he called out, “Hey! Hey, stop! Take me instead! Leave her alone. She doesn’t know anythin’ anyway. You want me!”
Your eyes darted to his face as you whispered, “Don’t. You don’t know what you’re doing. What they’ll do to you.”
Yes, I do. Rick thought. I can see it in every mark on your skin. But he continued shouting, “Fresh meat, right here. I got all the juiciest secrets you’re just dyin’ to find out.” But the men barely glanced in his direction. Instead, they grabbed you.
“No, no, no! Rick! No!” you frantically clawed at his arms as you tried to maintain your grip on him as they began to drag you away.
“Hey! Get the hell away from her!” Rick barked as he tried to push the men off of you, but one of them slammed the butt of his gun into Rick’s head, dazing him enough that he lost his grasp on you. Instantly, the men yanked you away from the bars and towards the cell door.
Rick felt blood running down the side of his head and everything was slightly hazy, but he managed to raise his head enough to focus on your face, and the soft smile of acceptance you had on it, just before they hauled you from his sight.
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The next few hours were a kind of torture Rick had never experienced before. Even watching you die hadn’t felt like this. At least then, he was sure you were dead. But now? They could be doing anything to you and he had no way of knowing. In fact, there was a strong possibility you were already dead, but Rick refused to let himself consider that option. Not after he found you again. Not after he promised everything was going to be alright.
 Finally, the outer door opened and the men from before returned carrying your limp body between them. He took one look at you before throwing himself against the bars. “You bastards! What did you do to her?”
The men ignored him, but they shifted enough that Rick was able to get a better look at you. But he almost wished he hadn’t. One eye was swollen closed and your bottom lip was split wide open with blood trailing down your chin. There were finger-shaped bruises already starting to form around your throat and Rick could hear you wheezing even from here as you struggled to breathe through your damaged esophagus. Many of your old scars had been reopened, presumably with a blade of some sort, and as the men carried you into your cell, Rick saw the trail of blood you were leaving in your wake.
When they got you inside, they tossed you callously onto the cot. Rick heard you moan weakly in pain, and he shook the bars once more as he snarled, “You sons of bitches! Do you think you’re so tough because you beat up on a defenseless, injured woman? Why don’t you come over here and see what I’ll do to you?”
Six guns were immediately pointed at Rick’s head and chest, but he didn’t back down. One of the men approached the door connecting Rick’s cell to yours and he unlocked it, letting it swing open with a clang. Rick stood in place for a moment, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he took a single step forward, into your cell. Still, nothing happened. The guns were still trailed on him, but none of the men seemed like they were planning on stopping him from leaving his cell. Glancing between the men, he quickly tried to calculate how many of them he could incapacitate or kill before one of them could gun him down. He might not make it out of this alive, but at least he could take a few of the bastards who did this to you with him.
“Rick….” The sound of your hoarse, weakened voice snapped him out of his bloodlust-filled rage. As his eyes darted to you, he saw your good eye cracked open slightly and gazing at him. Slowly, you raised a single finger into the air. It was all you could manage at the moment but he understood. Ignoring all the guns pointed at him, he crossed the jail cell in three long strides and knelt down beside your cot. As he did so, he felt a tiny sting on his neck, but he ignored it as he turned all of his focus onto you.
Rick carefully cupped your face, but it still caused you to release a low moan. Up close, he could see the bruising on your cheekbone, indicating a fracture or even a break. And as he began to take your hand, he noticed all but one finger on the right hand was now missing its fingernail. Glancing at the left, he saw it in a similar state except for your pinkie, or what was left of it, was wrapped in a dirty piece of gauze.
Every muscle in Rick’s body tensed once more and he began to rise to challenge the men for what they had done to you, but you whispered, “No. Stay.”
Ever so slowly, and with much effort, Rick lowered himself back to the floor, the hatred still glowing in his eyes. But he reluctantly turned his focus back to you. The slightest ghost of a smile passed across your lips, and Rick gave your arm a soft squeeze.
After a few minutes of silence, the men slowly backed out of the cell, their guns still trailed on Rick. And then they locked the cell and exited the room. The two of you were finally alone, together in the same place. But at what cost?
Rick gazed down at you tenderly, as he gently stroked the back of your hand. “Darlin’, why did they do this to you? Why now?”
You swallowed painfully before mumbling, “They have you. A colonel. What more do they need with the broken shell of a lieutenant? This was a warning for you to cooperate with them. And they said if I survive this, they’ll just do it again until I don’t.”
“I won’t let them. And you’ve been through worse than this before. You’re gonna pull through.”
“Rick…. I don’t think I am.”
Slowly, your hand reached for the bottom of your shirt. You tried raising it up, but Rick could see you were struggling. So, he gently moved your hand out of the way and lifted the hem of your shirt to reveal your stomach. Massive bruises covered your torso, but one section on your left side was especially brutal. It was a much darker red and purple than the rest and when he gently prodded it, your skin was hot to the touch.
He looked fearfully back up to your face and you weakly nodded. “I think I felt something break or burst. There’s probably internal bleeding. Things are going to get bad. And then, they’re going to get worse. And there’s nothing we can do about that without help.”
“You have to hold on. Okay? The team will have been lookin’ for me and they have to be close by now. You just have to hold on until they get here. Then it’ll all be okay.” He brushed the hair away from your sweaty face. “I’m right here beside you and I’ll do whatever I can to help, but you have to fight. For me. For us. Can you do that for me, darlin’?”
“I’ll try. But I don’t know how much fight I have left.”
Rick leaned over and placed a long kiss on your forehead before muttering, “It’ll be okay. You’re the strongest person I know. And you’re gonna be fine.”
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An hour or so later, you were much worse. Your skin was hot and clammy to the touch, the bruise on your side was growing larger as well as darker, and you were barely able to hold on to consciousness. Rick kept trying to get you to talk in order to keep you awake, but your words soon grew more chaotic and confused than ever before, until Rick couldn’t bear to listen to the insanity spilling from your lips. So instead, he let you drift back into silence.
He remained pressed tightly to you on the small cot, running his hand soothingly over your hair or across your face, softly whispering words of encouragement or hope. However, he wasn’t sure if you were even aware of the fact he was here anymore. Every once in a while, you would mutter something incoherent before going quiet again and Rick would just hold you tighter.
And then the coughing started. Wet, ragged sounds that had your body folding in half and your face contorting in pain. When this would happen, Rick would help ease you into a sitting position and wrap you in a bear hug to try and keep you from shaking too much and causing even more harm to your already severely damaged body. Then, he would lower you back down as you gasped frantically, trying to catch your breath. This cycle repeated in rapidly shortening intervals.
After a particularly bad coughing spell, he watched as a single tear rolled down your cheek and he used his thumb to wipe it away. “Come on, darlin’. You gotta stay with me. I just got you back. I can’t watch you die again.”
For the first time since the fever started, you looked up at him with halfway clear eyes. You struggled to swallow before murmuring, “Rick, I’ve wanted to die for weeks. I was ready to do it myself when you showed up. But now at least, I get to do it in your arms. The last thing I’ll get to feel is them wrapped around me, and the last thing I’ll see is your face, your eyes. And that’s more than I could have ever hoped for. It absolutely terrifies me what they’ll do to you when I’m gone, but selfishly, I’m glad you’re here with me.” You smiled softly up at him before your face contorted once more and your body convulsed as you coughed, and Rick could only stare in horror as blood dotted your lips, and stained your teeth. It was a bad sign in a long list of bad signs.
With a somber sigh, he leaned over and rested his head on yours. “Just hang in there. We’ll figure a way out. I promise.”
“What happened to never breaking a promise to me?” you asked weakly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your blood-speckled lips as your eyes fluttered, struggling to remain open.
“I haven’t yet, have I?” You shook your head, the movement so small that Rick felt it more than saw it. “It’ll be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
Before he could say more, there was a loud commotion on the other side of the door that led out into the hall. Rick eased himself carefully off the cot and hurried over to the bars of the cell just as a blast of gunfire exploded outside. He glanced back at you, but you hadn’t even flinched at the noise, either too accustomed to these kinds of outbursts or too weak to react anymore. Rick wasn’t sure which option was more troubling.
Then, as suddenly as it started, the sounds stopped. Rick shifted his position so he stood between you and the door as he lowered himself into a fighting stance. No one was going to lay another finger on you as long as he still had breath in his lungs.
The door flew open, slamming loudly against the wall, and a familiar figure walked in. Rick straightened up as she said, “There ya are, Colonel. Been lookin’ for ya.”
Rick pressed his face against the bars. “Harley? How did- never mind. You need to get us out of here right now.”
“Us? Ya got a little friend in there with ya?” Harley skipped over towards the cell but came to a sudden halt as she got a look at the person on the cot. “Is that…. I thought she was dead!” But then she gasped as she took in the full extent of your injuries. “Oh, doll…. Look at you. You’ve been stuck in here this whole time?”
“Unfortunately, yes. I thought she died too, but somehow, she survived. However, she won’t last much longer without serious medical attention, so you need to call someone to extract us.” But Harley just kept staring at you in disbelief and shock, the horror of what she was seeing clearly etched on her face. Yet Rick didn’t have time for it. He barked, “Harley! Either call someone or give me the damn phone so I can. Now! That’s an order.”
Reluctantly, she dragged her eyes away from you and gave her commander a two-finger salute. “Whatever ya say, boss.” Then she pulled out a phone and quickly dialed a number.
As she began to talk to someone on the other end of the line, Rick hurried back to your side. “Darlin’, I need you to sit up. Harley’s here and we’re gettin’ you out of here.” He held open his arms to help you.
However, you weakly shook your head as you muttered, “It’s just the drugs. It has to be. Makes you see what you wanna see. But it’s not real. It’s never real. You, Harley, Boomer… you’ve all shown up to save me so many times. But in the end, it’s never real…..” You trailed off as your head lolled to the side. Rick could see you still breathing but it was getting shallower with each inhale.
However, it was going to be alright because Harley was here and help was coming. You had to be wrong because Rick was never given any drugs which meant Harley couldn’t be a hallucination. She was here, just on the other side of the bars calling for help. Harley was her-
Suddenly, Rick remembered the sharp sting to the back of his neck when they returned you to your cell, as if from a bug bite….. or from a needle. Hesitantly, he looked up to stare at Harley who was pacing just a few feet away with the phone still pressed to her ear. Rick’s eyes never left her as he approached the bars. Then, ever so slowly, he reached out his hand to touch her.
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Part 2 and a surprise part coming soon! 🥰
Taglist: @babblydrabbly, @loverhymeswith, @lorecraft, @yespolkadotkitty, @green-socks, @sociiallydiisoriiented, @that-sarcastic-writer, @fairchildflag, @mayhem24-7forever, @skvatnavle, @lacontroller1991, @ed-baldwin, @bewitchedignition, @lovearne, @heart-0n-fire, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @heresathreebee, @clints-lucky-arrow, @foli-vora, @princessxkenobi
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deliciousangelfestival · 10 months
Text
Kill My Ex (?) Chap 1 - dark!Lloyd Hansen
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Character: dark!Lloyd Hansen x Ex-girlfriend , Rick Flag x Fem!Reader (slightly)
Warning: Manipulation, betrayal, delusional character.
Words Count: 1549
Summary: The reader meets a disaster with her fiance, and the team gets into a death trap while on their mission. Her boss told her to get revenge. After finding out who the mastermind turned out to be, her ex-boyfriend, will she kill him or not?
Reblog and feedback are really appreciated. It will make me more motivated and got more people to read the story. Thank you so much 💓 💗 💓 Have a great day and enjoy the story.
Let me know if you want to join the tag list 😊
Chapter 1, Chapter 2,-
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‘Beep, beep.’
That’s the only sound surrounding the patient room. It could be annoying if someone keeps hearing repeatedly, but for you, it's an assurance that your fiance is still breathing. 
You held his hand closer to your face, hoping and praying the patient in a coma would open his eyes.
You wanted to cry your heart out, but your tears already dried. You pray that even though he's in a deep sleep, he’s fighting to wake up.
You should've known the mission was a set-up. While you were with the other team on the other side, the team leader, Colonel Rick Flag, your fiance, got shot through his heart. It's a miracle he still breathing.
You wish this is just an awful nightmare. 
While grieving, you could hear high heels echoing around the hallway and getting closer to the patient room. 
The new guest was staring at the patient. She’s wearing her usual outfit and her pearl necklace. 
“He didn't deserve this."
You lifted your head and turned around. In the shadow, she appears like the angel of death, Amanda Waller. 
But she didn’t come here to see your fiance. She came here for you because she knew the mastermind of this chaos.
Even in this situation, you couldn't read her face. Is she mad because her team died, or is she mad because the mission failed that got her fired?
You put down Rick's hand and approached your boss. You grabbed and clenched Amanda's collar then pushed her to the wall. “You gave the mission. We almost died because of the false information you got.”
Once again, the mission Amanda gave to the team was to clean off the government secret. 
You and Rick's teams were separated when they arrived at the enemy base. Your team lost consciousness because of the hidden bomb, but Rick lost half of the team members. After three days, you woke up and learned from the doctor that Rick got it worse.
They said it’s a small chance if he ever wakes up. 
Amanda looked at you and said, “That’s why I want revenge, just like you. I became a laughing stock." 
You released your hand grip and stepped away from Amanda. “Who are they?”
Amanda fixed her collar. “They are experts at making chaos. Hansen Security.”
"What did you say?" Your body froze when you heard that name again. 
"It was your ex who created this mess." You could feel Amanda's eyes judging her. You couldn’t hide any secret from her. She knew the past you had left behind.
The biggest mistake you have made in life is knowing Lloyd Hansen. 
Amanda, grab your hand and give you a gun. "Get rid of him."
Your hands tremble when the gun touches your hand. You have erased him from your heart and now have to erase him from this world. 
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At an unknown location. 
A man is looking at the big French Window inside an old mansion. He stared at the woman who he’s been waiting for. He doesn’t even mind an explosive sound from the gun surrounding the place. 
“Sir, she’s on the first floor.” One of the mercenaries, who looked like his face had just got beaten up, was breathless from running to tell his boss. 
His boss's face filled with smiles, and he stopped at the mirror to fix his hair and outfit. “Don’t let anyone hurt her.”
“Yes, sir.”
After his subordinate left, he looked at the watch, counting every second because he was getting impatient. 
“Lloyd !!!” A scream came from behind the door, and she opened it by kicking the door. 
He opened his arms and said, “Y/N, I miss you.” 
You clenched your fist and threw an object toward him. He ducked and grabbed the bloody glasses you threw. He was silent for a while. 
That’s what you were looking for, despair. You want to know how it felt like losing a best friend. 
You thought he would get mad, but instead, he was laughing. 
‘What the fuck!’
You pulled out a gun and placed it on Lloyd's forehead. “What did we ever do to you? Tell me!!! 
Lloyd put his hand to your gun; you thought he would shove it away instead; he pressed to his forehead, “Do it, Y/N, kill me. I would rather die than seeing you with someone else.”
You gasped when he said that. What kind of nonsense is he talking about?
Three years ago, when your world was all about him, he didn’t even notice you. But now, after you meet someone else who respects and appreciates you, he won’t let you be happy. 
You clenched your teeth while staring at him with bloody eyes. “Crazy bastard.” 
“But if you killed me…” His one hand held her waist while the other rubbed her stomach. “Who’s going to be your husband and become the father figure of your child?”
Your breath hitched, only stared at Lloyd, thinking he had lost his mind. 
Lloyd giggled for a bit. “Oh honey, you didn’t know? I read the blood test when you were unconscious for three days.” He shook his head. “That was on me. They didn’t tell me you were on the team.” 
You gasped and stepped back from him. No wonder why the doctor told you not to take another dangerous mission and to take care of your body. That means inside you, there’s a child with you and Rick. 
You didn’t notice there was a hidden door behind you. A group of men dragged you to the chair and tied your arm to the armrest. Suddenly you felt a sting on your neck. Someone gave you an injection. 
“Lloyd, what the fuck?!”
He was crossing his arms and tapping his fingers. “Relax, it will help you relax in 10 minutes. While waiting, we will have a conversation.”
Lloyd pulled another chair to sit in front of you. He leaned closer to you and touched your hand. “I will never hurt you and….” His hand gently rubbed your stomach again. Your body trembled because you felt disgusted, but it was nothing compared to what he said next.
“Our child.”
You snapped back at him, “Enough with your jokes Lloyd.” 
He shook his head. “I’m not joking. This child will need a father figure since there’s no chance his father will ever wake up.”
Your lips quiver, and your vision gets blurry because of the tears you have holding back. “What do you want? You have taken everything I had.”
“That’s what I was aiming for.” Lloyd holds your chin. “I want to get rid of everything that is related to you, that loser and start a new beginning with me.”
You felt throbbing veins in your neck, wanting to burst out. “It’s impossible.” 
“I would say the same three years ago, but now it is different. After I woke up from my deathbed, I realized the only thing that matters is you. The image of us and our future kids at our suburban house.”
As he said, if he had said these words three years ago, you would believe it. But now you were hoping this was just a bad nightmare. 
You can’t believe your old self loves this man and would give anything to get his attention. 
When you have started a new chapter, he wanted you back?
You spitted at his feet. “Fuck you Lloyd.”
“No, mama, it's not good to curse our baby.”
You gritted your teeth. “This child is not even yours.”
“Oh I will. Since the real father presumably died without the machine support.”
“What?”
“With just one call I could hold a funeral for your fiance tomorrow.”
“You…”
“Shhh…shhh…” He rested his pointed finger on your lips. “To apologize, I won’t turn off the machine that supports him.”
His offer doesn't make you feel relieved.
“You could walk away from here. But who’s going to pay the bills for Rick, since the President gave a direct order to close the agencies?”
Another reveal from his lips, it turns out Amanda picked the wrong guy.
“If you were looking for someone to blame, blame him. The order was from him to get rid of Waller's team. He hates her because she tried to get him under her feet.”
“Amanda…”
“While you are here, she’s running away.”
That bitch, you thought. Now she's saving herself and leaving you alone. What can you do? You have no backup anymore. And your lunatic ex-boyfriend is holding the life of your fiance. 
You want to scream and kick your feet to free yourself from this nightmare. But you start to get sleepy because the effect of the drug from the injection has worked. Your head is getting heavier and moving left and right. 
Lloyd shushed you again; he knew the drug had taken effect. He released you from the chair and brought you into his arms. He looked at your side face and smiled. "Welcome home Y/N."
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What do you think, guys?? Do you like it? Do you want this made to be a series?
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Taglist:
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drabbles-mc · 8 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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loveshotzz · 11 months
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bouncer!steve x fem!reader Steve’s night
🎵 I finally found someone that can make me laugh, hahaha you so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby. 🎵
summary: you’ve got a crush on the new bouncer at The Foxy Lounge. turns out he’s not very good at his job.
word count: 13.6k
warnings: 18+ 90’s AU// Steve is in his early 30’s, Your date gets drunk and says some night nice things, some mild violence (bar fights), possessive steve, fingering, smut (p in v) cream pie, ass eating (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk.
authors note: part two of Whatta Man (steve’s night) you don’t need to read eddie’s to read this one it’s just a little more fun if you do. i’ve seen other writers repost their work after it’s been flagged so here I am. I worked on this for months. please be kind.
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The perks of moving into the apartment that presides above The Foxy Lounge were vast for a single girl like yourself, but the perks of becoming friends with the bartender that worked there seemed to make them endless. 
Memorized orders and free drinks when he was feeling nice (which he almost always was), he wore the crown of wingman of the century with pride, Eddie always made sure you had a good time. It was days like today that were your favorite though, heading home from a shitty morning shift at work, you weren’t surprised when you tugged on the front door an hour before open and it wasn’t locked. The annoyed look on his face told you he wasn’t either. An irritated groan leaves his chest at the carelessness of the owner and your landlord before popping the caps off two beers with ease. The loud clink of metal to glass echoes in the empty bar, as he flips his bottle opener between his fingers like muscle memory stuffing it in his back pocket.
“He’s gonna get us robbed one day, and I’m just gonna take my favorite bottle for damages and let them have the rest at this point.” His smile shows the lack of truth behind his words when you sit in the stool in front of him.
“Lucky for the both of you, it’s always just me.”  Winking when you take a swig, the bitter liquid and the company eases the bad day out of your bones almost instantly.
The beginnings of a relaxed sigh start to push past your lips when the jarring sound of his rings slapping against the wood of the bar to the tune of a drum roll has you tense right back up. You’re unable to stop the slam of your beer before deadpanning, “you know I hate when you do that-“
“My best buddy Steve starts tomorrow night, I finally got Rick to say yes.” Eddie’s excitement has him vibrating when he cuts you off to tell you the news of the latest Foxy Lounge employee. “You’re gonna have such a crush on him. I’m calling it now.” The smirk on his face and the arch of his brow dare you to challenge him as he leans forward into your space.
Rolling your eyes with a snort, you start picking at the white sticker wrapped around the bottle. 
“As if you know my type, Munson.” You can’t control the twitch of your lips the second the words leave your mouth when you finally dare to meet his amused gaze.
Eddie knew your type better than anyone else. Watching the men and sometimes women you’d bring upstairs weekend after weekend. He had you pegged and the Cheshire smile on his face told you he knew it too.
“I can hear it now.” He changes the pitch of his voice so it sounds like a bad version of yours before he continues with an exaggerated batting of his lashes, “Oh Eddie, Steve is just so dreamy. Do you think he thinks I’m cute? Will you talk to him? Come on Eddie!”
“I do NOT talk like that, asshole!” Launching a handful of bar nuts at him, he raises his hands in mock surrender shaking out the few that got stuck in his hair with a booming laugh.
“I don’t think that's a nice way to treat the guy who not only didn’t kick you out but also gave you a free beer before we opened, sweetheart.” His dimpled grin and perfect smile almost has your stomach in butterflies.
“I basically live here, besides your boss is the one who left the door unlocked. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re upping your security around here,” you tease, gulping down the rest of the beer before sliding the empty bottle over. 
“We’ll see about this Steve guy you won’t shut up about, who knows Eddie, maybe it’s you who’s got a crush.” 
Sweeping up the mess you made behind his bar he smirks before wiggling his brows.
“Everyone’s got a crush on Steve, baby.”
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The pink fluorescent lights of the Foxy Lounge sign that hangs outside your window paints your studio in a blush tinted glow. It bleeds through the sheer floor length curtains, softening its harshness in a way that you liked. The darkness outside always makes it shine brightest around this time, a constant fight with your overhead lamp before bed. Your eyes catch the glaring red numbers on your clear digital clock reading 8:45pm.
Shit. You’re late.
No Doubt’s I’m Just A Girl plays loud enough through your boom box speakers to drown out the murmurs of the bar downstairs that spill through the slight crack in your bedroom window. You finish the last touch ups to the bubble gum colored gloss that coats your lips, smacking them together loudly. You give yourself a sweet smile in the mirror before fluttering your lashes for good measure. The finishing touch.
Finally feeling ready enough to leave, you adjust the black velvet choker around your neck with lavender painted nails. They highlight the lime green tube top that wraps around your chest as you pull at your black maxi skirt that sits above your hips hugging your curves just right.
You give yourself one last once over while you slip on your clunky Steve Madden slides, telling yourself the whole time you didn’t get all done up for the new bouncer. Instead you tell yourself it’s because you want to get lucky with the guy that invited you to get last minute drinks conveniently at the bar you above.
Turning around to give your studio apartment the safety check, you shuffle over your baby blue carpet with loud clacks from your sandals to hurriedly straighten your pink comforter and snuff out your incense. Grabbing your bag, you rush out with a flip of the light switch, only getting two steps away before having to pop back in to grab your keys hanging by the door.
The platforms on your slides are heavy as you make your way down the staircase, the narrow hallway bouncing your steps off the walls despite the cushion of the ugly brown carpet. One hand on the banister and the other dragging along the wall for balance, you pick up your pace barreling towards the door. Pushing it open with more force than normal, you hit something on the other side, hard.
An oof and the sound of plastic skidding across the sidewalk is followed by the crash of a stool that must’ve belonged to whoever was sitting on it. Stepping onto the pavement with a clack from your sandals, you stop in your tracks when you see his broad shoulders first. Bent over, you watch him collect what looks like an orange Tamagotchi, stuffing it quickly in his back pocket before brushing the dust off his dark denim clad thighs. The way he fills his jeans has your mouth dry up and his muscles flex under the black cotton shirt that wraps tight around his torso, the seams barely containing what’s underneath. Turning around he runs a big hand through his honey colored locks that stop just below his ears, pushing the fly aways from his face while the shine of the street lamp highlights his cheekbones and sharp jaw.
God you hated when Eddie was right.
Hazel eyes rake over your form while yours follow the freckles that run along his neck that lead to small moles placed like a cluster of stars along his jaw. His chiseled nose runs down a narrow line with lips tinged pink like his cheeks. The expression on his face going from irritated to flirty in a matter of seconds flat, the whites of his teeth showing when he gives you an easy smile.
“I’m - oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m running late and no one is ever sitting there and I - Are you okay?” Talking a mile a minute, you hate that he has your nerves getting the best of you.  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Raising his hands up to stop you, the press of your thighs is instant when you see the silver band wrapped around the thickness of his middle finger. “No apologies necessary, it was an accident, honey.”
The endearment leaves his mouth while his lips turn his smile crooked, and it makes you dizzy. Bending down to grab the stool off the ground, a matching chain slips out from under his shirt and the glow above gives you a glimpse at the patch of thick chest hair hidden from sight.
“Besides, it’s not the first time a pretty girl has knocked me on my ass.” Folding his arms across his pecs, he leans against the brick of the bar crossing his legs at the ankles. The black boots that cover his feet look big and menacing despite his disposition.
Biting your bottom lip into a smile, you look up at him through shy lashes and you swear you hear him sigh at the sight.
“Well as long as you’re okay-“
“Steve,” he offers his name with a flash of his teeth again, a spark lighting in his eyes when he sees the way you react to it.
“Well you’ll probably see my face around here a lot,” you say, doing your best to ignore the way your cheeks burn.
“I sure hope so.” Pulling a toothpick out of his back pocket, he slides it between his lips. Jaw clenching when he bites down on the wood while his eyes roam your curves again before offering you another grin.
It makes you do one thing a man has never made you genuinely do. You giggle. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you hardly recognize yourself anymore.
“I was gonna say, 'cause I live upstairs.” Your voice is sweet despite the roll of your eyes, his jaw clenches against the wood. He liked that.
He only breaks his stare to follow the path of your finger, his eyes lingering on your open window for a second before bringing all his attention back on you. The tension grows even thicker when he kicks off the wall, realization hitting him. The soles of his boots are loud against the pavement when he closes the distance between you with two long strides. Getting close enough to smell the cinnamon on his breath, and the expensive cologne that lingers on his bronzed skin, you forget all about your date waiting for you inside. 
“Eddie’s told me all about you.” Using the tip of his tongue, he pushes the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, his smirk telling you all you need to know.
“That’s funny, Eddie’s told me about you too,” you lick your lips, tasting the fruit of your gloss as you look up at him from under hooded shimmering lids, “Steve.”
He inches just a little closer to teeter on the edge of what’s appropriate before responding, “Oh yeah? Did you like what you heard baby?”
His smile is as sinful as it is blinding. A darkened gaze locked on yours as he pulls the tooth pick out his mouth letting the sharp end snag his bottom lip before stuffing it in his back pocket again.
The electricity in the air sparks and fizzes, standing close enough to see the freckles that line his nose and the specks of glitter smattered in a similar pattern on your cheeks. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Raising an eyebrow, your response has him sucking his teeth before rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek accepting your answer with a nod of his head.
Pulling out a small red flashlight with a soft click of the button at the end, white light floods the dark. The beam roams over the expanse of your body with a purposeful path before stopping at his outstretched hand.
“I.D.?” Amusement evident in his voice, he wiggles his fingers at you keeping up with his charade. The motion daring to make a mess of your underwear.
You try to cover up your laugh with a fake scoff, making it come out loud enough for him to snort. Your lips twitch as you try to fight the losing battle with the smile threatening to break across your face. 
“What? I need to be careful here sweetheart. It’s my first night, I gotta make sure you’re really who you say you are, and not just some pretty girl trying to flirt her way inside.” He keeps the perfect poker face while he tuts at you to hurry up for the invisible line behind you.
“Would it have worked?” you ask handing him your driver’s license, wincing internally at the picture he is about to see.
Brushing his fingers against yours when he takes it for closer examination, he huffs out a laugh before looking down at you with a smug grin.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He winks like an expert before making a big show of bringing your ID close to his face like it might be a fake.
Tsking to himself as he reads it over, he peeks over at you with a sly smirk. “A whole year older than me. Good for you, I like older women.”
Closing the space that developed when you had to dig in your purse, you snatch the plastic out of his hand, relishing in the way his breath hitches because of it. “I’m shocked you can read Steve, Eddie’s taste can be a bit…shoddy.”
“I think I’m pretty good at it actually, I’m good at reading a lot of things.” Ignoring your jab he’s quick to regain his confidence. “Things like, I don’t know, body language.” The spice of the cinnamon returns when he pulls out his toothpick again. He flashes you his pearly whites when he bites down, keeping his eyes locked on yours, a silent dare to prove him wrong.
Like magnets finding each other, the toes of his boots brush against your sandals. When did he get this close again?
Mariah Carey’s Fantasy cuts off any witty response that sits on the tip of your tongue as the bar door creaks open, rudely snapping you both back to reality. A boy who looks barely above the legal age is the culprit for popping your bubble, stopping dead in his tracks when the flirting bouncer’s attention redirects itself to where it should be. You already miss it.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, punk.” Grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt, he mutters a ‘shit’ under his breath. 
You take a step back, your eyes meeting Eddie's from inside, the commotion catching his and a few other patrons' stares, including your date.
Oh yeah, you had a date.
“I’m gonna need to see some I.D.” Steve’s voice drops deeper after he clears his throat, if his tamagotchi didn’t beep right after, signaling it’s need to be fed it would’ve been more intimidating. Your own digital pet buried at the bottom of your bag probably doing the same, already reborn fresh this morning from forgetting it at home while at work the night before.
“Umm, you see, I left my wallet at home,” the kid starts to stammer, the metal of his braces showing when he gives the bouncer a nervous grin.
Almost forgetting he had an audience, Steve’s eyes meet yours, softening before that million dollar smile takes over his handsome face.
“You’re free to go in. You know where to come when you wanna talk about all those things you liked hearing about me.”
Your stomach flutters despite the roll of your eyes at his words and you're reminded crossing the threshold that you’re here to meet another man, already scolding yourself for not taking Eddie’s warning seriously.
“I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you, Steve?” You linger in the door frame, looking at him from over your shoulder, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.
“You already know the answer to that, gorgeous.” His toothpick switches sides again before finally going back to doing his job, tugging the kid closer.
“I.D. or no entry dick head.”
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Despite there being no line outside, the bar was pretty full. The low buzz of conversation before the drinks really start to hit filling the crowded space. Mariah finishes her last high note when your eyes connect with Eddie’s before meeting Devin’s. He’s dressed like Danny Tanner and it makes you cringe. Pushing up his wire frame glasses, he waves so eagerly the Salmon’s that cover his dress shirt look like they're swimming in the background rapids with the movements of his arm. He’s completely oblivious to Eddie mocking him behind his back, mouthing ‘DORK’ with a shit eating grin before finally attending to the girl with smeared makeup that had been desperately trying to get his attention from the other end of the bar.
You take a deep breath, readjusting the strap of your bag before you push your chin up making your way over. Determined to have a good time, you put on your best face, returning his wave with forced enthusiasm while Steve’s smile etches itself into your memory permanently.
Paula Abdul’s Vibeology starts pumping through the speakers around you, the sticky floor vibrating with the bass under your sandals as you sway your hips to the beat. He stands up when you approach his spot at the bar and you notice his button up is tucked into mustard colored corduroy slacks, and it makes you miss the tight fitting denim of the man outside even more. Shaking your head to try and get rid of all the thoughts swirling in your head about the guy you weren’t on a date with, you desperately try to match Devin’s excited energy when he opens his arms for a hug.
“I was starting to get worried you were standing me up.” He laughs nervously as you tuck yourself into his chest. Your eyes peek over his shoulder meeting Eddie’s again as he slides your favorite drink over (tequila and pineapple), and god you wish you hadn’t.
Wiggling his eyebrows, you flip him the bird behind Devin’s back watching the bartender pretend to catch it and put it in his pocket making your eyes hit the back of your skull.
“No, sorry, I just lost track of the time.” Not a total lie you leave out the fact that you forgot about him completely just a few minutes ago. Pulling away, you avoid his eyes, too scared they’ll give you away.
“All is forgiven, pretty lady.” He bows slightly, and you have to ignore the way Eddie snorts as he walks past with hands full of Miller Lite.
“You’re so sweet,” cringing at how fake your voice comes out but Devin doesn’t seem to notice as you both take your seats, knees barely touching between the space of the stools.
“Thanks for agreeing to drinks tonight, I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Just didn’t know, w-with office etiquette a-and all,” stuttering, his nerves get the best of him. He tries to hide it behind a sip of his beer.
“No, I’m, I’m glad you did,”you lie, your eyes flicking to the door one more time before grabbing your drink. An awkward silence settles between the two of you as you press your lips to the rim to slurp at the top to prevent any spill over.
God, you already want this to be over.
The conversation does get easier after your first drink, the flirting a little less forced as your hand finds its way to squeeze his thigh when you laugh at something he says that’s only half funny. Choking on the foam from his beer from your sudden touch, he wipes his mouth bashful from his outburst. Eddie murmurs a “go easy on him tiger” when he gets you a refill, earning him your bratty tongue. 
“So you transferred here last year from Portland, right Devin? What’s it like over there?” Resting your chin on your knuckles, you look up at him from under your lashes enjoying the way it makes his breath catch.
“It was- It was a lot different from here…”
Finally on your A game, you try not to pay attention when the front door opens behind your date. It’s to no avail when you catch his figure in your peripheral and you can’t fight it anymore. All the progress you’ve made going out the window when Steve makes his first reappearance since your arrival. 
Toothpick replaced with what looked like Big Red chewing gum, his hazel eyes scan the crowd before landing on you. The smirk that you’d been trying to forget tugs at the corners of his lips, and any luck that Devin might have had with you tonight disappears like that.
The bouncer looks pointedly at the man beside you, sizing him up, smile stretching wider when he assesses his threat. Leaning against the wall, he crosses his arms across his chest so the sleeves of his shirt look like they are being pushed to their limits as the muscles in his biceps flex. Hips pushed out in a way that’s daring you to look below his waist, he throws you a wink with a snap of his gum.
“...So yeah, that’s the long and short , it,” Devin finishes with a proud smile and you just nod, not catching a single word he said.
Steve’s stare is relentless, and your body responds to it without you having to even meet his gaze. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, jaw clenching with every hard chew of his gum. Pushing himself off the wall, he starts a slow walk towards you. Big heavy steps bring him closer, every thud of his boots making your thighs clench, as you try desperately to stay concentrated.
Your date’s in the middle of another story that sounds like white noise, your lack of attention making him a babbling mess. He doesn’t notice the way Steve stops next to him first, giving him a once over from up close to make sure he wasn’t missing something from afar before coming up to you with the kind of smile that’s dripping with trouble.
“....So the logistics of it are kinda crazy when you think-“
“Just checking on my pretty new friend over here,” Steve cuts Devin off, not interested in anything but you. His large hand finds the small of your back, his palm almost big enough to cover the exposed skin between your skirt and top. It sends a shiver up your spine that the pad of his thumb soothes when it rubs circles over your sprouting goosebumps. “Having a good night, baby?”
The pet name falls so smoothly off his tongue that it takes Devin a minute to realize that it even left Steve’s mouth, a scowl souring his face when he sees the way your eyes glaze over looking up at the bouncer. 
“Yeah, I’m having a real nice time Steve.” Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, he notices the subtle way you lean into his touch. Your body needy for more.
“You better be.” He winks, letting the blunt ends of his nails scratch along your back before adding salt to Devin’s wound, “And you know where to find me if that changes.” 
There’s a knowing smirk that plays on the edges of his mouth, biting his lip he finally tears his eyes away from you to give a head nod to the date you’d forgotten about for the second time tonight. Steve tosses him a wink too, a gesture that makes Devin’s jaw clench. Steve opens his mouth to say something that was sure to piss him off more, but he’s cut off by the sound of Eddie’s rings slamming hard on the bar behind you. 
“Dude! What the fuck are you doing inside? Do you know how many people have walked in without getting checked? It's PEAK hours!” The bartender's eyes are frantic, fingers running through his curls as he yells at his friend. “Quit flirting and go do your job. Also, is that a fucking kid man?”
Eddie points to the boy that the bouncer stopped earlier who was snooping around abandoned tables in search for leftovers he was definitely not of legal age for, Steve’s cheeks tint the color of your lipgloss when he looks at you with sheepish eyes. The confidence he was dripping with disappears into embarrassment while doing his best to ignore the smug look on your date’s face.
“Calm down man, it was three minutes! I’ll get rid of the fuckin’ kid. Again.” He rubs the back of his neck as he walks away, stalking towards the boy who looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Hey asshole! You must’ve grown eight years in twenty minutes for me to be seeing you here!” 
The boy raises his hands up in surrender slowly backing away, giving Steve an opportunity to turn around to toss you one last smile and wiggle his fingers at Devin before focusing on the high schooler who is already halfway out the door. The kid's walk turns into a run when Steve cracks his knuckles for show, following him out with long strides, disappearing back outside and out of sight.
You’re left with awkward silence between you and your date as Eddie stomps away muttering under his breath. Devin clears his throat, twirling his beer, the glass against the wood making a sound that starts to grate on your nerves. He’s daring you to look at him. The huff he exhales afterwards begs you to look. Your mind races with ideas of how to get out of this and when you dare to finally take a peek, he’s looking forward, emptying the last of his bottle.
“I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette!” You blurt out, grabbing your bag and leaving no time for a response. Your sandals clack as you power walk to the door. To Steve.
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The summer night is sticky on your face when you step out of the bar, the sound of a girl’s sniffled “You’re right Steve” directing your stare to the bouncer you were looking for. Sitting on the very stool you knocked him off of, his big boots sit on the lowest footrest with his knees spread wide. Inviting. His eyes connect with yours, widening a bit when you smirk at him while getting yourself comfortable on the brick wall on the opposite side of the door. Digging your cigarettes out of your purse, you notice the girl next to him has mascara running down her cheeks that she only makes worse when she wipes them with the back of her hand. 
“You know Maryanne, it sounds like this isn’t the first time he’s done this to you. I think it’s time to kick him to the curb. You deserve better.” He speaks to her like they’ve been friends their whole lives and you have no idea how he’s learned so much about her in the few minutes he’s been outside. Crossing his arms as he leans back enough for the legs of the stool to pull up, he catches himself with his shoulders against the wall behind him. 
“He sounds like a chump if you ask me,”you chime in, lighting your cigarette. Steve’s smile shines under the pink luminescent sign above him when he hears your voice. The wooden legs of his stool smacking loud against the cement when he pushes off the wall.
She’s startled by your sudden appearance, not noticing when you came out - too lost in her own world. She gives you a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes before she nods, tugging at her high pony and somehow making it higher. The sequined scrunchy in her hair catches the street light as she tries hyping herself up to return to whoever was making her cry inside.
“He is a chump, but most men are.” She sighs, her shoulders relaxing a little more as she calms down.
“You’ve got this honey, tell him to fuck off and go home with Lisa if that’s what he wants so bad,” Steve champions, patting her on the back, a new layer to Maryanne’s story being revealed. His eyes flick back to you as you take a drag, the mossy green going dark when he watches your cheeks hollow.
“Thanks for listening Steve, I’m gonna go back in now.” She wipes her nose one more time, before giving you a polite head nod.
“Have Eddie make you something sweet, and tell him it’s on me.” The bouncer winks, giving her the boost of confidence she needs before opening the door you just came out of. Monifah’s Touch It adds to the tension between Steve and you when it leaks out of the bar as she disappears inside. The bass thumps against the brick, leaving the song just muffled enough to be background noise when it closes behind her.
The air is heavier, thicker with something you both know is there. Playing hard to get, you don’t meet his gaze, despite feeling it over every curve and dip of your body. Inhaling another hit of nicotine, you lift your head up to exhale the smoke into the dark sky, extending your neck for him to see before you finally give in and chance a glance in his direction.
He looks far too handsome, smiling wide when you meet his eyes, all his perfectly white teeth baring themselves at you in a way that makes your legs shake.
“Missed me already baby?” His feet hit the sidewalk, his man spread somehow bigger this way as he scoots closer to the edge of the stool. 
“You’re not very good at your job, are you?” You grin, successfully dodging the answer he already knows as your head hits the side of the building. Tilting your chin in his direction with your lip tucked between your teeth, you catch his narrowed glare.
“Nice try sweetheart, I used to watch Road House, religiously. I learned from the best. I’m just distracted,” the buttery smoothness of his voice returns, the last of his sentence coming out in a purr.
“Distracted?” You quirk a brow, not giving into him just yet.
“Yes, very much so and I regret to inform you that it’s all your fault too.” He sticks his bottom lip out at you in a pout, earning the giggle he’d been trying to get again since he first heard it, even if it's accompanied by your pretty eyes rolling in the back of your head.
“I’m on a date, Steve.” Even though you know it’s a weak comeback at this point, you still give it and he doesn’t miss a beat.
“Where? I don’t see him.”
Your cheeks heat up at his observation so you take another drag of your half smoked cigarette to try and hide the way he’s affecting you.
“I’m supposed to be quittin’, but you’re makin’ it look too good, pretty girl. Let me have a puff?” His question is an invitation, making the first move to call your bluff, to get you closer.
“Is that why you seem to have a cinnamon addiction?” you tease, not surprised when you kick off the wall accepting it with a smirk and an exaggerated sway of your hips.
He licks his lips while his eyes roam the length of your body unashamed, one large hand raking through his hair when you stop close enough to smell the topic of discussion on his breath. 
“Could be addicted to worse,” he murmurs, not sure where to look having you between his legs like this. 
“It’s a Newport, S‘that okay, Steve?” you ask him from underneath flirting lashes. His breath hitching before a sly smirk spreads across his pink lips.  
“More than okay baby.” He leans closer, fingers wrapping around the plush curve of your hip to anchor you in place.
Tipping up on your toes, your hand comes down on his thigh making the muscle flex against your palm, your touch sending shocks through the rough denim while the other holds the gloss stained end up to his mouth. 
Steve holds your stare when his lips wrap around where yours just were. His nails dig half crescent moons into your exposed skin as his cheeks hollow out. You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, your brows meeting in the middle when he tugs you even closer before tilting his head up. The thick expanse of his neck on full display as he blows out his drag, adam's apple bobbing in the light making the moles dance across his skin. 
“The strawberry really sets it off.” He grins as his hand dares to slide down the top curve of your ass, making it his new home when you make no moves to get away from him.
“Thanks, it’s my favorite gloss.” You shrug, pretending to unphased by his teasing, but the mess in your panties would give you away if he could see.
“Maybe I could get a better taste,” his words are bold, but his free hand is bolder. Soft fingertips play with the top hem of your skirt, daring to dip under the fabric every once and awhile and he swears he hears you whimper.
“You want more?” Your voice comes out small, dripping in honey just for him. You know what he really wants, but he’s not gonna get it yet.
“God, if you’ll let me honey.” There’s a light squeeze on the dough of your ass, and it makes you flutter around nothing.
You lean in slowly, your hand moving further up his thigh watching the way his chest starts to rise and fall from it. Stretching the cotton of his shirt with every breath. The fingers that had been exploring the top of your skirt start a path up to the bottom of your top. A low hum coming from under his breath when the sweetness of your body lotion hits his nose. 
His eyes shut when your faces get close enough that he feels like he can taste the strawberry that he wants so bad. He doesn’t notice when you pull back at the last second to replace your kiss with another puff until your cigarette shoves past his puckered lips. 
When he opens them, he’s met with your giggles, a sound he wants on a loop. He pretends to glare, still taking the hit you were offering him, exhaling it through his nose like an angry bull. He opens his mouth to chastise you but the beeping of his digital pet interrupts his intimidating moment again.
“Gotta get that?” Your lips twitch while you try to contain your laugh, flicking the cigarette onto the street.
“Listen, my best friend got it for me. I thought it was incredibly stupid, and I definitely told her it was too.” The hand on your waist leaves to dig his Tamagotchi out of his front pocket. “But now I’m attached to the little guy.” 
The key chain sized toy lights up in his hand, as he starts to feed it with a press of a button.
“Mine died yesterday,” you admit and the laugh you’d been fighting off echoes loudly when he looks up at you horrified. 
“What? Do you have it with you now?”he questions as the small happy tune plays signaling that his pet is fully satisfied. 
“She’s somewhere in my bag, don’t worry she was reborn this morning,” your words don’t reassure him considering they seem to need food every thirty minutes and you haven’t pulled it out once since he’s met you.
“Sounds like you want her to die again to me.” Steve’s very real concern about your Tamagotchi has you smirking.
“They die so easily, you’re telling me yours hasn’t died?” 
Your jaw drops when he shakes his head ‘no’, a smugness taking over his handsome features.
“Steve, that’s like really hard to do.” You don’t know whether you should be impressed or roast him but when his hand grips at your ass one more time you decide it’s the first.
“Better give her to me for the night baby, I’ll keep her nice and healthy for my favorite girl.” Stuffing his back into his pocket, he holds his palm open for you in a vow to keep your digital pet alive and an excuse to see you later.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you obey his wishes. Digging to the bottom of your bag till you find your purple one. The screen already going off, and the muffled beeping that signaled the need for it to be fed finally becomes loud enough to hear.
“See! I told you. On the cusp of death already.” 
You drop it in his hand, right as an older trucker comes barreling out of the bar reminding you where you’re at and that Devin is still waiting inside. Again.
“Fuck, I should go back in.” You sigh as your fingers play with the seam on the leg of his jeans.
“Go back in and tell that guy to get lost,” the bouncer almost whines, his grip on your hip tightening before he lets you go.
“Steve,” you huff but the smile on your face gives him hope.
“Just saying sweetheart, could be fun.” He shrugs, putting on an air of nonchalance while your Tamagotchi dangles from his thumb.
You both know who you really want to go home with tonight.
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The bubble you and Steve are in pops as soon as you get back inside The sound of the distant cars on the freeway and Steve’s voice is replaced with Return of the Mack and the crowd that was at a simmer when you first got here is now at a full boil. 
You have to get rid of Devin.
He’s right where you left him, hunched over and twirling his beer bottle on top of the bar. You notice the three empty shot glasses before you see Eddie dropping off another one while giving you the kind of eyes that say ‘Come take care of your date’ as he walks away. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards him going over all the ways you can let him down easy while your nerves drown out the little bit of guilt you had for ditching him.
“Heeeey,” your voice is high pitched, awkwardness dripping from its tone when you finally return to your stool next to him.
Crickets.
You freeze - he’s ignoring you. How can you get rid of him if he’s ignoring you? Your eyes shift around the bar nervously, offering an awkward tight lipped smile when anyone meets your stare. You search for Eddie again, hoping to silently ask for help but his back is to you, clearly putting the moves on a girl at the other end.
“Devin.” 
You hope that saying his name will elicit the desired response but that dwindles quickly when he chugs the rest of his beer, continuing his charade and keeping his gaze forward before slamming the empty bottle down.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” he grumbles, irritation laced in every word before he pushes off the stool still not meeting your eyes.
You wait till he’s out of earshot before you let out a groan, your long disappearance clearly pissed him off. Propping yourself up by your elbows on the sticky bar, you close your eyes, rubbing your temples while you try to think of the right way to go about this. Eddie’s knowing chuckle is the last thing you want to hear but that’s just how the night is going now.
“You pretty little scoundrel!” He slaps the spot in front of you forcing your eyes open, his smile only widening when you glare at him.
“He’s so pissed and now thanks to you,” gesturing towards the empty shot glasses Eddie gets rid of with quick hands, you avoid the real reason, “He’s gonna be trashed!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa sweetheart. I’m not the one who can’t keep their hands off Stevie boy. And on a date too? Tsk tsk tsk.” He crosses his arms with a shake of his head, “Now you broke poor Derek’s -“
“Devin.”
“Whatever - fish guy’s heart. Aren’t you in a little predicament hmm?” Eddie hums the last part, but you can see the excited glint in his eyes. He loves watching your escapades.
“Listen,” you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your strawberry lips under his knowing gaze, “When you told me he was hot Eddie, you didn’t tell me he was that hot.”
Smirking, you enjoy watching the way his face contorts knowing that was a damn lie.
“Are you kidding?” He throws his hands in the air, giving you the reaction you were baiting him for, “It was the first thing I told you.”
You laugh loudly at his exasperation with your antics, almost forgetting about Devin entirely for the third time tonight. 
“Have fun figuring out this little love triangle you’ve created, I need to get to the rest of the paying customers so I can get back to that hottie at the end of the bar.” He points to the girl he was talking to earlier who’s sipping a drink she looks surprised to even like.
“I bet you aren’t charging her for anything are you?” You narrow your eyes playfully, cackling when he rolls his waving you off as he walks away.
Sliding off the stool, you tug up your tube top, ready to give it to Devin straight, more than eager to get back outside again. 
“I knew the guys in the office said you were easy, but I didn’t think you’d be spreading your legs for anything that walked on our date.” Devin’s voice comes as a surprise, but the tight grip on your arm pulling you to him is an even bigger one.  
Searing rage fills every part of your body at the fact that he put his hands on you, palms flat on his chest, you use all your strength to shove him away. Shock paints his features, not expecting you to fight back so aggressively. All the drinks he’s had make him stumble back, losing his footing almost falling into the couple next to him.
“Well I’m sure as shit not spreading them for you!” you spit, looking him up and down with disgust before putting a finger in his face, “And your shirt? It’s fucking ugly.”
You give him one last once over before shaking your head and walking away. Heading back towards the entrance, you notice Steve inside again. A hard glare is set on his face, nostrils flaring as he zeros in on Devin behind you who’s still trying to regain his balance. 
God, it’s the hottest he’s looked all night. 
Steve’s hazel eyes meet yours and they instantly soften when you can’t help but smile as he opens the door for you.
“Thanks Stevie,” using Eddie’s nickname, you run your hands across his chest when you walk by, just to add salt to Devin’s wound.
The flush that paints his cheeks tells you how much he likes it.
“When I told you to ditch your date, I didn’t mean to fist fight him, honey,” he teases, following you outside, letting the chipped red door shut behind you and muffling the sounds of the bar again. 
“He got mad about my little disappearance before I could let him down easy.” Turning around, you bite your bottom lip to try to hide your growing smile.
“Poor guy.” Steve grins before taking the two steps to close the gap, to crowd your space. Cinnamon fanning across your face, “Never stood a chance.”
It’s harder for you to breathe when he looks at you like he wants to kiss you, but before you can respond, the door flies open.A drunk Devin stumbling out with a glare breaking you two apart.
“Of course, of FUCKING course. Not even two seconds later? You really are a slut, huh?” Devin seethes, stumbling out onto the sidewalk.
“I’m really going to need you to watch your mouth champ. No need to call girls names. You’re a big boy.” Steve’s tone is condescending as he squares up, making sure you’re behind him.
“You think you’re so fucking cool,” Devin scoffs before hiccuping, “Careful with this one, she’s probably sucked your buddy’s dick inside too.” 
“Yeah, that’s enough, asshole. Go home, before I have to beat some respect into that ugly skull of yours.” Steve cracks his knuckles again, but it doesn’t have the same effect as before, Devin only raising his eyebrows at the bouncer.
“Respect? That’s funny. The whore behind you hasn’t heard of it.”  
Steve loses his cool and like a flash he’s on him. Pulling his fist back Steve moves just a little too slow and Devin clocks him right in the jaw. The sound of bone against bone echoes loudly into the night. Stumbling back, Steve cradles where an ugly bruise will start forming in the morning, rubbing it out. He cracks his neck before barreling towards Devin, taking him down to the ground like a football player.
In a flurry of fists and cuss words, Devin somehow gets Steve pinned. The alcohol and anger flowing through his system turns him into The Hulk. Your screams for them to stop fall on deaf ears while they continue to roll around on the ground. Panic sets in when you realize neither man is going to stop. Doing the only thing you know how to do in these situations, you get Eddie.
Frantic, you open the door, ignoring the fact that  Third Eye Blind is playing at the exact worst time, you scream Eddie’s name loud enough to silence the bar.
“Eddie! It’s bad. Steve needs you!” 
He looks up from a clearly flirtatious conversation with the girl from before, both of their eyes landing on you as you get your friends attention. He grumbles, grabbing her hands saying something to her that makes her nod bashfully before jumping over the bar top. Jogging out the front, he towers easily over the two men, neither one of you bothering to check the red heads I.D. that walks in after you.
“The first fucking night man!” Eddie yells at Steve, grabbing Devin by the back of his shirt pulling him off the bouncer with ease, but not before Steve gets one more cheap shot in.
He wrestles against Eddie’s grip for a second before finally giving up with a hiccup, hocking a loogie in Steve’s direction.
“You done?” The bartender's face is unamused, as he waits for Devin to nod. “I never wanna see you or your shitty ass style at my bar again. Beat it bozo before I give you a matching black eye to go with the one Steve gave you.”
Two against one is too much for Devin to take on, so he raises his hands up in surrender when Eddie lets him go. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he shoots you one last glare before turning on his heel. Flipping everyone off as he starts down the sidewalk. Steve returns the gesture, spitting at his retreating form.
“You good?” Eddie asks, extending his hand for his friend to take.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just hate that guy.” Steve mumbles, looking everywhere but at you while he straightens his shirt and dusts off his jeans with bloody knuckles.
“Your hand dude, I can’t have you bleeding all over people I.D’s. and I know Rick doesn’t have a first aid kit. At least I’ve never seen one.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, stress coming in the form of knitted brows.
“I’ve got one,” you mumble, finally finding your voice and the bartender claps, wiping his hands clean of the situation.
“There, go play nurse with lover boy and get out of my hair tonight. I’m like this close,” he pinches two fingers together to show “to scoring and you both have been fucking it up every chance you can get. I swear to god.” 
Eddie waves you off as he makes his way back in, and you can feel the shift in energy between you and the bouncer you’ve been wanting all night.
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Steve’s quiet the whole walk up the stairs to your apartment, fuming with anger and embarrassment, the confidence from before gone while the bruise on his jaw deepens and he cradles his bleeding knuckles.
“This is me,” you break the silence cringing, your voice amplified in the walls of the narrow hallway while you dig out your key.
“Thanks for this, angel,” his words come out in just above a whisper but at least it’s something.
The endearment has a smile creeping across your face and you finally dare to turn around to get a look at him after you hear the click of your lock. You press your back against your open door, it’s your turn to extend an invitation.
“Anytime Stevie.”
His face softens the minute he lays his eyes on you again, jealous of the way you bite your bottom lip sweetly, he wishes it was him. 
You let Steve into your world one heavy boot at a time, locking the door behind you. Watching the way his dimmed eyes brighten, curiosity winning over any leftover irritation. The ghost of a smirk twitches at the corners of his lips while he walks the small space of your studio taking everything in. The neon sign outside your window is the only light that illuminates it, shadows dancing off trinkets on shelves and pictures on walls, he was getting a glimpse of you. 
He stops in the middle of your room, right at the edge of your bed. The dark denim and leather that cover him are a stark contrast against your baby blue rug, but you think he looks like he belongs here. You watch the way he takes in your hastily made bed, licking his lips when he sees a pair of panties that didn’t quite make it in the laundry basket in the corner. The radio you’d forgotten to turn off plays a commercial, filling the space between you, and you aren’t prepared for when he puts his full attention back on you again after not having it for the past twenty minutes. Your body responds immediately to the playful glint in his eye.
“Cute place, for a cute girl.” He grins, running his good hand through his hair before he walks over to the window to take a look at your view.
“I bet you say that to all of em’,” you tease because it’s easier to do with his back to you. Making your way to the bathroom, nerves burst like butterflies in your stomach.
“You’re the only one baby.” 
His response is quick as he turns around, the flirting you’d grown accustomed to coming back like a raging storm. He watches your hips while you walk the short distance with a heavy stare that covers every part of you. Leaning against the door frame with your curves on full display, something shifts behind his eyes. Flipping the lightswitch, white beams break apart the pink, highlighting even more of you for him to drink in.
“Come on handsome, let’s get you patched up.”
His cheeks flush at the new nickname and it's his turn to bite his lip in a shy smile for you. 
It doesn’t take more than a few steps for his long legs, the wood creaking under his weight. Pressing your back to the frame, he stops in front of you with one foot over the threshold and the other still in your room. He takes up so much space. His biceps flex when he reaches for your hip, tugging you even closer, you can smell the menthol still lingering on his breath. On instinct your palm hits his chest, muscles dancing under heated skin as you tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. Squeezing at your softness before he speaks, he lets his middle finger dip under the top of your skirt.
“I really meant it when I said thank you back there. Just need you to know that.” His finger dares to dip lower, rubbing circles that make your back arch, hips pushing forward on a search for his. The curve of your stomach touches the cool metal of his belt buckle and the heat of his body sets fire between your thighs.
“I know you did,” your voice is sweet for him, the tone you know he likes while your hand moves down the dip between his pecs, “Thank you for sticking up for me.”
You can feel the coarse hair that starts at the top of his belly button where your hand stops, and you swear you feel him twitch in his pants. A second one of his fingers finds its way under your skirt and another subtle tug gets you even closer. So close that all you’d have to do is stand on your tiptoes for your lips to touch. 
“Anything for you, pretty girl,” he breathes, spice and tobacco taking over. His adam’s apple bobs when he catches the way you start staring at his lips, the gloss on your own shimmering in the new light.
“Anything?” Quirking your brow with a smirk, your innuendo makes him moan and his hold on you tighten.
“Absolutely.” Ducking his head lower so his nose brushes against the bridge of yours, he dares you to make the first move.
“In that case…” Pressing your toes down to push yourself up, the playful glint in your eye goes unnoticed by him.
Your lips are a ghost, his top one barely brushing against your bottom, it's enough for him to taste the strawberry he wanted more of outside but not enough to satisfy. His eyes flutter closed waiting to feel their full plushness but your words bring him back to reality.
“Sit on the toilet for me.”
The specks of emerald shine again when his eyes snap open to see you flat on your feet with a grin. Groaning loudly with fake irritation, he lets go of you in exasperated defeat, letting his head fall back and hit the wood of the frame.
“What? We came up here for my first aid kit, didn't we?” You giggle after you say it, you don’t mean it.
“Sure, sure, yeah, yeah.” Nodding, he runs a hand through his hair while he looks around your bathroom. 
It smells like your coconut body wash and it drives him crazy. He takes an unexpected step forward, his hand finding its way back to your hip to push you against the wall. One heavy boot between your wedged sandals, getting just close enough to kiss you. Is he going to?
It's your eyes that flutter closed this time, your fingers wrapping themselves around his belt loops again. He’s tentative with his injured hand when he uses it to cradle your jaw. His palm is soft as it covers half your neck, his thumb pushing up against your chin to tilt your face up to his. He runs the tip of his nose along your cheek and you feel your knees start to get weak, a whimper begging to fall from your parted lips.
“If that’s the only thing we’re here to do then we should get to it then, huh?” 
Just as quick as he invades your space, he leaves it. The porcelain of your toilet seat cover clunks loudly when he drops himself on it. Spread out like on the stool outside, he takes over the room, leaving you to catch your breath with a smug grin.
It’s a staring contest with narrowed eyes after that, but the twitch of your lips tells him you aren’t actually mad. He snorts when you clear your throat to regain your composure, purposely ignoring the obvious when you bend over to open the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the bright red zip up bag. 
“We need to wash your knuckles first, then I’ll put some ointment on them and wrap it up for you. We’ll keep it that way for the night and we can check on it in the morning.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and he catches the slip up instantly.
“Oh? You need to keep me overnight for observations?” 
You bite your lip to try and hide your smile, grabbing a washcloth running it under hot water instead of looking at him. 
“You know what I meant, I’ll come check on it tomorrow when you get to work.” You don’t even believe your lie, and the toothy smile you catch from the corner of your eye tells you he doesn’t either.
“But nurse, I don’t know. I think I should stay, I got hit in the face too. Concussions you know? I really shouldn’t be alone tonight.” He lays it on thick, eating up the way he sees you loving it spreading across your face when you ring out the soapy rag.
You don’t try to hide it when you finally face him, or when you settle between his legs for the second time tonight. The new position has him eye level with your chest, easier access to his lips. You hold your palm out for him, your hand disappearing completely when he drapes his wounded one over it.
“Concussion, huh? Are you feeling light headed Steve?” You play along giving your best impression of a medical professional.
He hisses when you press the damp cloth to his knuckles, sucking in air between his teeth when you start to clean. The soothing circles the pad of your thumb rubs on the side of his hand is almost enough to distract him from it.
“Yeah, but that started before I got hit.” 
You finally dare to meet his gaze, a flattered smile spreading wide across your face that you try to play down with a roll of your eyes.
“Hmmm,” you hum to yourself, deciding not to give in just yet as you switch from the rag to the ointment, getting the bandaging and medical tape out.
“I mean, you’re the professional honey. You tell me.” You feel his good hand tug at the bottom of your skirt while you smear the neosporin on his knuckles with a q-tip, his long fingers flexing at the cooling effect.
“It started before you got hit?” You question with a fake pensive expression, gently taking his palm in your hand to start the wrapping process. 
“Yeah, you see, this girl hit me with a door earlier. Knocked me clean off my stool.” He makes the motion of him falling with a swipe of his hand, “ and I haven’t been the same since if I’m being completely honest.”
It takes everything inside you to not give him the satisfaction of a laugh, the way you met coming back to the forefront of your mind.
“Some would argue putting your stool in front of the door like that is kinda stupid, but that's just my professional opinion.” Your shrug earns a loud laugh from him and you relish in it, promising yourself you’ll get him to do it again.
“All done.” You let go of his hand and he already misses you holding it, but the proud look on your face is a good distraction while you admire your handy work.
He holds it up, and you still can’t get over just how big they are. Curling his fingers in before extending them, he only winces slightly from the pain. The pressure of the bandage already helping. He jumps slightly when the backs of your fingers smooth over the fresh bruise forming on his jaw, the stubble tickling your skin. His eyes watch yours as they rake over the damage, the softness of your touch almost enough to make his eyelids heavy when you stroke the sore spot again.
“What do you think, huh?” His question comes out quiet, the playful edge gone while both his hands find the back of your legs. Rough fingertips run up your calves, catching the bottom of your skirt as they go, “Are you gonna keep me baby?”
A shiver runs up your spine when he hits the back of your thighs and you feel yourself getting pulled closer. He drags his nose up the bare skin of your sternum while his hands grab doughy handfuls just below the curve of your ass. The sound of your moan when his fingers get high enough to just barely graze the soaked material between your weakening legs sends him into overdrive. Growling, he nips at the tops of one of your breasts.
“Come on, tell me, what’s it gonna be?” Despite trying to sound confident, there’s a desperation in the way he asks. He knows you want it but he needs you to say it.
It’s when his fingers slip under the lace trim of your panties that you finally give in with a gentle grab of his chin. His eyes are black when they meet yours, the ends of his nails digging into soft skin. 
“Yeah, I’m gonna keep you.” You give into an urge you’ve had since you laid eyes on him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you spread yourself open for his hands to wander.
He doesn’t hold back anymore and you’re reminded of just how tall he actually is when he stands up. His actions are quick and with purpose, the strength you knew was behind those muscles showing itself when he lifts you onto the edge of the sink with your skirt rucked up to your hips. He man handles you in a way no one ever has and you feel it light a fire in your gut. Impatient for his next move, you grab the collar of his shirt while his hands spread wide over the tops of your thighs, your lips finally getting to do what they’ve wanted all night.
It’s soft at first, both of you moving slow as you figure out what the other likes, careful not to hurt his jaw. One of his hands finds its way back to your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing the length of the bone while his tongue begs you to open up. He traces the top of your lip, shuddering at the taste of the strawberry and it makes him wonder if your skin tastes like the coconut he smells. 
You give him the access he wants, your tongues meeting in the middle, making the fire that had been begging to consume you pour out from your fingertips that bury themselves into the roots at the nape of his neck. You need more. The hard length that has been fighting against the denim of his jeans presses hard into where you want his attention, your legs wrap around him - silently begging him to do it again.
One arm snakes around your lower back, holding you flush against his chest, the grind of his hips giving you the friction that makes you keen. A moan and a breathless “fuck” is what breaks your lips apart when his zipper catches your swollen clit with just the right amount of pressure. He uses his new found freedom to kiss down the length of your jaw, humming against your heated skin when you tilt your head to give him better access to all the sensitive places he can’t wait to discover. He sucks the soft spot behind your ear when you meet the next roll of his hips, your slides falling loudly off your feet to the tile floor.
“Steve,” his name comes out in a high pitch whine when he starts sucking a bruise in a place you know you’ll have to try and cover up for the next few days. He was marking you, and you could care less. You hold him there, encouraging more as his teeth graze your pulse point, a “baby” slipping past his lips when he finally pulls away.
He meets your eyes with flushed cheeks and messy hair and the kind of hunger that makes you melt.
“Let me take you to bed, let me take care of you,” he’s panting, his hold on you tightening so you can feel just how bad he needs this. A smirk spreads across his swollen lips when your hips shift in search for more, giving him the answer he needs along with the nod of your head.
Just as easy as he lifted you on the sink, he carries you to the bed, big hands cradling thick thighs before he lays you on your back. Your giggle fills the space in between heavy pants before TLC’s Creep starts playing over the speakers of the radio. His hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head and you watch an expanse of new freckles and moles get revealed to you. You want to kiss them all. They dot the spots next to the dark hair over his belly button while the thick thatch of chest hair you’d only gotten a glimpse of glistens with beads of sweat in the glow of the Foxy Lounge light. 
His jeans hang low enough for you to get a glimpse of the veins protruding from the V shape that leads to the part of him that’s sure to make you forget your own name. His grin is cocky when he recognizes the expression on your face. Grabbing your ankle, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. The bottom of your foot resting on the soft hair of his chest while long fingers hold you in place. He keeps his eyes trained on yours while he starts to trail wet kisses down the inside of your leg. The stubble covering his jaw scratching along his path in the best way. He stops when he gets to the soft skin of your knee, nipping playfully, he smirks at the squeal it earns him before he drops your leg in favor of curling his fingers under the top of your skirt.
You lift your hips for him without him having to ask, and the flash of his teeth is almost enough to blind you. He’s slick with his movements, taking your panties too. You hear his breath catch in his throat when he sees the effects all his teasing has on you. His fingers grip at your thighs before pulling your sticky skin apart with a lick of his lips.
“Look at you baby, all this for me?” The last part of his question comes out in a groan when he swipes the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves, kicking up in his jeans when your legs shake in response. “So sensitive too. Let me make her feel good, yeah?” 
He swipes his thumb against your clit again making your eyes shut tight and your hips buck.
“I need to hear you say it.” He keeps rubbing circles, applying just enough pressure for you to forget how to speak, “Come on, be a good girl for me.”
His other hand pulls down your tube top, breasts spilling out in the blush light for his eyes to devour. He groans at the sight, his other hand coming up to cup the soft flesh feeling the way your nipples pebble against the warmth of his palm.
“Steeeeve, please.” 
You’re whining for him and it makes his brows pinch together, feeling drunk off you. 
“God angel, you’re fuckin’ beautiful you know that?” He emphasizes his question with his hands, giving your sides a squeeze while his eyes roam every dip and curve of your body. “Turn around for me? I wanna see all of you.”
The look on his face makes you decide that you’ll never deny him anything he asks, giving him a nod, you run your hands up his arms, nails dragging across the light hair before you push yourself up to get on all fours.
You feel completely exposed to him like this, all the secret places of your body on full display. He’s quiet for a minute and it’s almost enough for your nerves to get the best of you until you feel his palm find the apple of your ass. Fingers digging into doughy flesh, a groan loud enough to drown out the music erupts deep from his chest.
“Baby, baby, babyyy,” he emphasizes the last endearment with another handful before pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”
Your hips wiggle at his words, your walls fluttering around nothing while the cool air from the overhead fan hits your heat, sending goosebumps dancing across your supple flesh. A dark chuckle leaves him when he sees how much power his words have over you. His knees hit the side of the mattress, one hand hooking around your hip while the other runs down the dip of your spine giving you a light push when he hits your shoulder blades until you're bent over for him.
“She likes when I talk to her, huh?” his voice is low, mesmerized when you start dripping on the bed for him and he’s barely touched you, “She likes when I call her pretty doesn’t she?”
The moan that leaves your mouth is pathetic and he wishes he could record it. 
“Playing hard to get all night, but look at you.” His good hand comes down hard enough on your ass for the fat to jiggle and you to fist handfuls of your comforter because of it, “Making such a filthy mess and I haven’t even put my mouth on you yet.”
His grip is rough when he tugs your hips, the outline of his dick pressing into you, the denim scratching against your clit in a way that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. 
“Tell me how much you want my mouth baby, tell me how much you want me to make you cum.” He grinds against you again, only this time making sure to apply the kind of pressure that makes your back arch.
“Fuck - Steve, please I want it. I’ve wanted it all night. I’ve wanted it all night,” you're babbling as he circles his hips, fingers kneading your soft skin.
Satisfied with your answer he mumbles a “so good for me” as he pulls away he gives you another light slap to your ass - signaling for you to scoot up, your mattress dipping behind you when he gets on his knees. 
Big hands spread you apart, your forehead hits the comforter when you feel the heat of his breath against your slick folds. Your walls flutter, begging for his attention when his tongue runs a long stripe up your slit. He hums at the taste before he does it again, this time making sure to circle your clit before lapping up everything you were drenching him with like he was thirsty for it. 
“Oh my god,” you huff into your blankets, toes curling when he starts an assault against your bundle of nerves, the pointed tip of his nose pressing deeper into your entrance as he gets lost in the sounds he’s pulling from you.
His fingers stretch across the tiger stripes on your butt cheeks, pulling you even further apart to give him better access. The coil inside you already threatening to snap when he sucks hard on your clit. He lets it go with a loud pop, smirking to himself at the way he has your body shaking from overstimulation already.
“Taste so fuckin’ good. Strawberries, just like your lips.” He groans, inhaling your scent like a man starved, his good hand coming down on your cheek again only this time a little harder pulling out another broken moan from you.
“Can I taste all of you pretty girl?” 
There’s zero hesitation when you say ‘yes’, in fact it’s a little desperate. He could have whatever he wanted from you now. Not even sure what he means, your brain’s too fuzzy with lust to comprehend anything until you feel the tip of his tongue circle a place you’d never let anyone else go before.
“Holy shit - Steve.” The new sensation sends another wave arousal to your dripping core, a needy whine following it when he does it again.
“This okay?” He kisses the curve underneath the apple of your cheek, the softness of his voice comforting you while he checks in.
“God, it’s, it’s -“ He gives you another kitten lick and it makes your eyes roll in the back of your head, “It’s more than okay - Jesus Christ.”
Too lost in the feeling of him testing the tightness of you with his tongue, you aren’t expecting his thick finger to start circling the entrance he’d been neglecting, the one you need him to fill the most. Your silk walls welcome the intrusion with ease, the stretch only stinging a little when he pushes to the last knuckle while his tongue starts getting a little more bold. Your back arches when he groans against you, curling his finger to hit the spot only you’d ever been able to find with ease. He adds a second digit when you start bucking against his face, the new addition almost makes you run away. He tsks at you from buried between your butt cheeks, one large hand locking you in place when he starts feeling you get close.
“Give it to me,” he demands, coming up for air. Fingertips relentless against the spot that has you squelching loudly.
His mouth returns to the sensitive part of you, tongue circling your tightness in a way that has you finally snapping. Your walls constrict, wrapping around his fingers while your vision goes white. Your body freezes, the orgasm overwhelming your muscles with a violent shake, his name falling from your lips like it’s the only word you know. You feel him grin against you, the movements of his fingers only slowing down but never stopping, milking every last drop you give him.
“So good, so pretty when you cum baby,” he mumbles praises, his lips kissing anywhere they can reach while your body comes down from its first high. 
You feel his weight leave the mattress, hear the metal of his belt buckle clinking followed by the low thump of his jeans hitting the floor. You find enough strength to look over your shoulder and it’s enough to make you whimper. Steve’s big. Dark hair at the base, it’s thick and curved, the pretty pink tip leaking just for you. The long vein that runs up the side pulses when he gives it a couple of tugs before his knees hit the mattress again. 
His hands spread over your hips pulling you closer before he starts trailing kisses up your back, the silver of his chain making you shiver as it runs up your spine till his lips stop right at your ear.
“You ready for me?” 
Your eyes meet his and they’re pitch black, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you know yours looks the same when you give him a nod but you know that’s not going to be enough for him.
“Come on, you know what I need,” his tone is mocking as he grabs his cock at the base, swiping his head through your folds, smirking at the way you try to suck him in, your body greedy for him.
“Please, please, please, please.” 
All your self respect goes out the window when he pushes the tip in and you can’t stop repeating yourself. The stretch is already bigger than his two fingers and he wasn’t even half way in yet and for a brief moment you wonder if he’ll even fit. 
“Fuck - baby.”
He moans as he pushes further, sheathing himself half way and he feels the way it makes your legs shake. His hand sneaks around your waist to find your clit, slippery fingers rubbing circles to get you to open up more as he rolls his hips one more time bottoming out. He groans so loud you’re sure anyone who might be smoking outside of the bar can hear him. 
“Holy shiiiit, I’ve never had pussy like this.” He stills, adjusting to how tight you feel, and it’s his turn to babble as you constrict around him making him twitch -  dangerously close to cumming already.
“You feel so good Stevie,” you whine as you push back against him, taking his length even deeper, feeling every curve and ridge of him against your walls.
He pulls out half way before slamming back in and it makes him curse under his breath before he does it again, only harder.
“God, fuck- this is all mine now, yeah?” he mutters, an angry edge to his words when he thinks about Devin getting to do this. 
“Mmhmm,” your answer is automatic, no thoughts behind your eyes while his cock fills you in the way you fantasize about when you touch yourself. 
“That’s right baby, it’s mine. You’re mine.” 
His thrusts get aggressive as he gets closer to his release, your slick making it easy for him to slide almost completely out before pushing back in. The rough hair covering his pelvis rubbing your clit at the same time his tip reaches the same spot his fingers pulled your first orgasm from. 
“Shit, Steve, right there.”  Your jaw goes slack, eyes closing tight when he hits it again, your words spurring him on while he tries to re-grip his hold on your sweat-kissed skin.
“Yeah? you want more?” He makes sure to put all his attention where you want, slowing his hips just enough to hit it even harder. “I’ll give you more.”
Steve tilts his head to the side watching how you wrap around him, and the way he barely has to push back in, your greedy walls doing almost all the work when he finds the perfect pace that has you twisting the sheets.
He huffs out a cocky laugh and it makes you tighten in response, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.”Yeah, I know baby. I know. You gonna cum again for me?”
“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out with a nod but it’s not enough for him, he needs you loud enough for Devin to hear from across town.
The sound of skin slapping against skin drowns out the music, keeping his stamina up despite the twitch of his cock, he bends over, somehow getting deeper, the cool metal of his chain dragging across your back while one hand snakes under your waist. His fingers are unrelenting when they find their way to your puffy clit again, applying just enough pressure to get your legs to shake for him.
“I’m gonna ask again, are you gonna cum for me?” He keeps his voice even, but he knows he’s not gonna last much longer, especially not when your cheek hits the mattress and you meet his eyes looking like that.
“Yeah, god, yeah Steveee! Please, please, please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for but it makes Steve’s resolve break. 
The moan he lets out is loud enough to echo off your wall, warmth flooding your insides as he cums hard enough to collapse against your back. It’s enough to send you over the edge for the second time. Your walls fluttering enough to make his nails dig crescent moons into your hips with a low “fuck” escaping him as you milk him for more with the sweetest chant of his name he’s ever heard.
“That’s it baby.” He coos lips placing sloppy kisses along the your shoulder blades when you collapse against the mattress, your bodies tangled in a way you don’t have the energy to leave quite yet.
The radio cuts out leaving just the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breath, you can faintly hear ‘Pony’ playing from the bar below but the sound of a car driving past quickly snuffs it out. You feel his nose nudge against your ear, a slow lazy smile creeping across your face when his lips brush your temple.
“I don’t think you have a concussion, but you better stay the night just in case.”
His laugh vibrates against your back, a toothy grin pressed to your skin.
“It’s always better to be safe than sorry,” he agrees. The response you somehow managed to conjure up gets lost on your tongue when both your long forgotten Tamagotchi’s go off in his abandoned pants in a matching tune you’d never heard before.
“Our babies need daddy, honey,” he groans, slowly lifting himself up on his elbows.
You roll your eyes with a snort as he trails kisses down your back only wincing slightly when he pulls himself out. Folding your arms under your head, you still can’t bring yourself to move, but the view of him naked and still semi hard while he holds the two digital pets in his hand with a confused expression isn’t one you really can turn away from.
“What?” Your curiosity is piqued when his eyes grow big.
“No fuckin’ way,” he mumbles more to himself than you, “I didn’t even know they could do this.”
“What??” The irritation is clear in your voice, the feeling of being left out turning you into a brat.
“Umm, I think they had babies… yep. Marty definitely got her pregnant.” The smile on his face gives away just how excited he actually is and you hate to admit that it’s contagious.
“Well we’re gonna have to figure out a child support plan I’m afraid. Daisy’s a free woman Steve.” The serious delivery makes him do a double take before he narrows his eyes.
“Child support? No, we're raising these kids together. So I’m gonna need you to care a little bit about keeping her alive. It's not just you here honey.” He tosses you the toy before jumping back on the bed pulling your body into his chest with ease, “I’m afraid you’re never getting rid of me.”
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464 notes · View notes
loverhymeswith · 2 years
Text
Say You Want Me and I'm Yours
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Pairing: Rick Flag x F!Reader
Summary: A prequel to Nothing Will Ever be the Same
Word Count: 3.6K
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, language, p in v sex
A/N: Thank you so much @a-reader-and-a-writer for the prompt, and for beta reading 💖
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Rick follows you into the staff locker room but you pretend not to notice. He’s barely exchanged two words with you since your argument onboard the helo and judging by the steely scowl you just caught a glimpse of in the mirror, that isn’t likely to change anytime soon.
This suits you just fine. You’re too tired and sore to engage with him right now anyway, and besides, you've said all you needed to. The mission was a success; who cares if you went a little off-script to get the result?
Certainly not Amanda Waller. You could practically hear her glee over the comms when Rick had informed her the asset had been retrieved. That was all thanks to you – a fact that Rick had deliberately failed to mention.
While you might consider yourself the hero of the hour, Rick hadn't seen it quite the same way. Stupid and rash, he'd called you. A liability.
None of this is new. In fact, lately most of your missions have ended in a similar fashion: the two of you embroiled in a blazing row while the rest of the squad watches on in bemusement. Rick accuses you of being sloppy and undisciplined; you tell him he's a control freak and too tightly wound, that perhaps he needs to get laid.
The sparse facilities of Belle Reve along with the life-or-death nature of the job leave little room for modesty and you can hear Rick moving behind you – the sound of his tact vest and t-shirt hitting the floor. As tempting as it might be to poke the colonel-shaped bear further now that you find yourselves in the privacy of the locker room, you truly don't have the energy. Instead, you strip out of your own filthy vest and shirt and start to examine the extent of your injuries.
It could have been much worse. There’s a dark bruise forming around your left bicep where Boomer had pulled you out of the way of a grenade, and an array of scratches and scrapes across your forearms and knuckles, but nothing to write home about. The only thing bothering you is your ankle. You suspect you must have landed badly jumping off the roof of the compound, though it's probably just a sprain.
Continuing to ignore Rick’s presence, you sink onto one of the benches and start to unlace your boots, until eventually you sense the weight of his gaze settling between your shoulder blades.
"You should get that checked out."
You twist around and spare him a cursory glance. A rapid assessment reveals no new injuries to his thick, muscular body. All differences aside, you're relieved he seems to be in one piece. Not that you let it show. “So you’re speaking to me again?”
Your words appear to find their mark as usual, the large vein on the side of Rick’s neck bulging as he works his jaw and grunts. "Who says I wasn't speakin' to you?"
You shrug, kicking off your boots and gingerly rolling up your pant leg to assess the damage. Sure enough, the skin around your ankle is swollen and inflamed. Hopefully nothing that aspirin and a few days rest won't fix.
When you don't respond, Rick places himself in front of you.
"What?" You snap at his feet, hoping he isn't planning for round two. A faint headache is beginning to bloom at your temple and you want nothing more than to go home and collapse into bed.
"Why have you always gotta be so goddamn confrontational?" You can hear the exasperation in his voice and when you tilt your head to meet his eye, his lips are turned down into a customary frown.
"Why do you always have to be such a jerk?"
Rick folds his arms across the expanse of his bare chest. A thin sheen of sweat is glistening on his tanned skin. He'll be heading for the showers any moment now. You know his routine like the back of your hand. Straight-laced, predictable Rick Flag.
"That is exactly what I'm talkin' about." He sighs audibly, nostrils flaring. "Straight in there with the childish insults. Why can't we ever talk things out like grown adults?"
"Because you don't listen."
"Like hell I don't." Rick shifts his weight from one foot to the other, drawing his lips into a thin line. It's his default expression; you can't remember the last time you saw him smile. "You're the one never listenin'. You're the one ignorin' orders and tryin' to get yourself killed."
Your rise from the bench, planting yourself squarely before him. A pulse of anger flares through your chest. "Don't act like you give a fuck about me, Flag. All you care about is bossing the squad around. You'd rather fail the mission than let anyone else take the lead."
"You got no idea what you're talkin' about," he growls, hazel eyes flashing with a fury to match your own.
"Don't I?" You take a step closer until you're standing toe to toe. With barely any space between you, Rick’s scar-flecked chest is directly in your line of vision, rising and falling with each heavy breath. You’ve never noticed the latticework of thin silver lines marring his skin before. That one man could walk away from battle so many times is nothing short of a miracle.
But you don't tell him this. Instead, you fold your arms to match his stance and continue. “Why didn't you let me take the credit with Waller today? You know we never would have succeeded if Boomer and I hadn't gone up on that roof."
A muscle in Rick’s jaw ticks. "Is that what you really think? That I give a damn about who gets the credit?"
You shrug half-heartedly. It certainly seems that way lately. Constantly down-playing your achievements and speaking over you in briefings with Waller, it’s like Rick wants you to fail. "Prove me wrong."
"Prove you wrong?" He's barely a hair's breadth away from you now. So close that when he huffs out the last remaining whisper of his anger, his warm breath flutters across your cheek.
"I'm tryin' to protect you," he mutters quietly, as if he's suddenly worried about being overheard. "If Waller learns the truth… if she learns just how fuckin' fearless and capable you are, she'll take you away from me."
"I'm not a possession." You bristle at the implication, fingernails digging painfully into the flesh of your arms so he can’t see just how much his words are affecting you. "You can't keep me all to yourself."
"I don't want to own you," he grumbles, unjustly annoyed that you can't seem to decipher the inner workings of his mind. "I'm tryin' to keep you free from Waller. She'll set you up with your own squad. I won't be -"
"I don't need you around to save me all the time, Flag." You cut him off before he can do further damage to your already precarious relationship. "Didn't I make that clear today?"
"Fuck. Darlin', that's not what I'm tryin' to say."
In Rick's honey-coated southern drawl, the pet name causes you to falter. He's never called you by anything other than your last name before. He seems to notice his mistake too, because he's scrubbing a hand over his jaw, gaze focused anywhere but you.
"Darlin'?" You repeat with the arch of a brow. You'd intended for it to sound condescending, but even you can't deny the surprise in your tone. "That's a new one."
"You just…" Rick stumbles over his words like he’s been knocked off course by an invisible force. "I can't think straight when I'm around you."
If you were on top of your game, you'd have snapped back with a cutting remark, teasing him for showing even a hint of weakness, but something about the sincerity of his words leaves no room for mockery. "What?"
Rick's eyes shutter, dark lashes kissing golden skin, and suddenly you’ve lost all direction too – can barely remember why you were so pissed at him in the first place.
Recovering from some internal conflict, Rick pins you with a heated gaze. "You heard me."
When your back hits metal you realise he's stepped even closer, his large body looming over you as a pair of tattooed arms reach out to keep you caged against the lockers. You read the hunger in his eyes a split second before he leans in.
His lips have barely brushed your own when your hands fly to his glistening chest, pushing against the solid wall of muscle. He staggers back instantly, wide-eyed and panic-stricken, like he can't believe what he's done.
That makes two of you.
"What the hell was that for?" you demand, heartbeat racing furiously while your brain fights to catch up.
"I…I'm…" You can sense him stumbling again, grasping blindly for any kind of excuse he can offer you, anything that might justify trying to kiss you.
Ultimately though, it doesn’t matter; he's too slow to respond. Because in that moment, he's breathtaking. So beautifully flustered and unlike the Rick you thought you knew that you have no choice but to grab his dogtags and drag his mouth back down to meet your own.
Your action awakens something in Rick, or at the very least it chases away his doubts, because he seals his soft pink lips to yours and he's really kissing you now.
It’s angry and it's messy and your teeth clack together as you tug him closer, fingers rising to thread through the lengths of his golden hair. His battle-worn hands have dropped to your waist, burning against your bare skin as he squeezes you tightly, pulling you flush against the hard planes of his body.
If you were still of sound mind it might have occurred to you to question whether this was wise: a colonel and his lieutenant overstepping every boundary in the book. But all sensible thoughts are driven from your head when Rick wedges one of his legs between your own. The insistent pressure of his muscled thigh against your centre forces all the heat in your body to rush south, stirring some long dormant desire you'd thought had been buried by the battlefields and bloodshed.
As your fingernails rake over the sweat-slick skin of his impossibly wide shoulders, Rick grabs your ass and drags you roughly along the length of his thigh. The friction against your core is so delicious that you find yourself whimpering into his mouth.
His tight hold on you falters and he pauses, seemingly startled by the sound.
"What are you waiting for?" you hiss, pulling back to find wariness written in the fine lines of his brow.
What you really mean is don't stop now.
Rick’s eyes have turned almost-black with lust, but there's an edge to his rasping voice that forces you to listen. Even now he commands your begrudging attention. "I don't want you havin' any regrets."
Your fingers head south, tracing the path of silver scars along the ridge of his abdomen, causing him to tense beneath your touch. "No mistakes, no regrets," you murmur, echoing the wisdom he'd shared before your first mission together two years earlier – wisdom that has served you well up to now.
Rick huffs out a laugh, a sound so foreign that it's hard to believe he is the source. "Beautiful sentiment, darlin'." But it seems to satisfy him, because he's closing the distance again, his lips finding your jaw.
Trapped between the press of Rick’s warm body and the cool metal lockers against your spine, your nerves are set alight. All the anger you were carrying around has faded now, giving way to pure, unfiltered desire.
His large hand replaces his thigh, swiftly parting your legs and cupping your covered core. "Been dreamin' about this," he admits roughly, dragging his fingers along your aching centre. "Dreamin' about all the ways I could stop that pretty mind of yours from racin' for a while. All the ways I could make you feel good."
Your head falls back, clanging against the metal, and all sense of reason abandons you. "Make me feel good, Rick."
Your breathless command unleashes him. He has you out of your sports bra and pants in a matter of seconds, that military efficiency apparent even in moments like this. “Should’a known,” he growls, as he palms a large hand over your breast. “Everythin' about you is so fuckin’ perfect.”
As you stand utterly naked before him, Rick's calloused thumb brushes over your peaked nipple, sending another pulse of heat straight between your legs. The white-hot need for him to touch you is almost unbearable, but instinct tells you that he's going to make you wait.
"Even better than I imagined." He continues in earnest, lowering his head and sealing his lips around your delicate pebbled flesh.
You barely recognise the sounds leaving your mouth as he worships your breasts with his wicked tongue; licking and sucking and teeth grazing until you start to come undone. He's expertly breaking you into pieces, leaving behind nothing but a flustered, needy mess.
When he pauses his ministrations to capture you in another claiming kiss, you seize the opportunity to reach for his belt. Your attention is centred on his arousal, which is visibly straining against the rough material of his tact pants. "Take them off,” you whine against his mouth, fingers frantically fumbling at his buckle.
Rick withdraws from your lips and steps back, flashing you an uncharacteristic smirk that has your thighs clenching tightly. "Still as impatient as ever."
Any quick-fire retort you might have planned dies on your lips as he complies with your wishes. His thick, capable fingers swiftly unfasten the silver belt buckle and you're left to stare unashamedly as his pants and boots join your own in a heap on the floor.
You can't believe it's taken so long for you to notice: Rick Flag is a study in perfection. You shouldn't be surprised to find that every part of his body is as long and thick and beautiful as the rest, as if he'd been carved by the gods themselves. You drink in the sight of him like you've been dying of thirst since the day you first met, your mouth watering when you try to imagine how good he'll feel buried inside you.
Because that's where this is going to end. The fuse has been lit and there's no choice now but to let the sparks fly.
Standing on tiptoes, you loop your arms around his neck and pull yourself closer, until you can feel his scorching length pressed against your stomach. He's bigger than you could have possibly imagined.
As his hands rise to cup your jaw, Rick’s dark gaze meets yours and tension crackles in the air. "Kiss me," he rumbles.
For the first time since you met him, your colonel doesn't have to tell you twice. You kiss him deeply and thoroughly, running your nails through the short hair at the back of his neck and revelling in the soft groans you're able to elicit from him. This new side of Rick steals your breath; his harsh lines and stern frown melt away beneath your touch, causing you to question everything you thought you knew.
It should scare you. It should fill you with doubt – how you've already crossed so many lines in such a small amount of time. But your brain has been short-circuited. The only thing you know with any certainty is how good it feels to be right here in the moment, wrapped up in Rick’s all-encompassing embrace.
But if Rick thinks he's solely in control here, he's very much mistaken. Catching his bottom lip between your teeth, you tug playfully. It earns you a deep growl, the sound vibrating through your chest as dampness continues to pool between your thighs.
"Touch me, Rick."
Rick proves himself just as capable of following orders as he is at dishing them out. His hand slides between your two bodies and when he finally reaches your centre, deft fingers glide along your wetness. The intensity of the pleasure catches you by surprise and you cry out desperately, legs buckling as you clutch at his shoulders.
He repeats the action, over and over, gathering up your slick until suddenly he pushes a finger inside you and lets out a string of filthy curses that makes your head spin. "Oh fuck, darlin'. Think this pussy's gonna destroy me."
If he carries on like this, he might just destroy you first.
In true Rick-fashion, he's diligent and methodical in his actions, carefully working you open until you can take two of his fingers, then three. He curls them up inside you, hitting that sweet, sweet spot over and over again, until the sounds of your desperate pants and moans rapidly fill the locker room.
Rick brushes his lips over your jaw. His breath is hot and his words are laced with a molten desire that surely matches your own. "If I knew it was this easy to get you to quit bitchin' at me, I wouldn't have waited so long."
Prickling at such a comment despite your building pleasure, you drop your hand and wrap your fingers around his shaft, squeezing tightly. Rick curses again, and when you run your thumb along his weeping tip he bucks his hips into your hand, shuddering beneath your touch.
"I think I like you better like this too," you smirk against his lips.
Deciding you're ready, that he's prepared you just enough, Rick spins you around roughly, pushing your chest into the lockers. Your nipples pebble against the cool metal and a surprised yelp bursts from your lips.
Rick doesn't seem to notice. He's too busy squeezing your waist with a bruising grip whilst his other hand forces your legs apart. Despite the forceful nature of his actions, he pauses for a moment to press a wet kiss between your shoulder blades. "Say you want me, darlin'," he rasps against your skin. "Say you want me and I'm yours."
Your palms hit the lockers, readying yourself for what's to come. "I want you."
Rick guides his cock between your folds once, twice, three times before he breaches you, filling you with a single stroke. The pressure is almost overwhelming but you take everything he gives you. In that respect, he has you well trained.
"Perfect," he grunts, buried to the hilt inside your pussy. "How could you not be?"
You bite down on your lip as he drags his hips back slowly before slamming into you again. The lockers rattle from the force.
"Don't go easy on me, Flag," you tease breathlessly, feeling your walls flutter around his throbbing length. "I'm a big girl. I can take it."
"I know you can, darlin'. You're gonna take it so fuckin' well."
The hand not gripping your waist traces the curve of your spine, rising higher until his fingers wrap around the delicate column of your throat. He applies just the whisper of pressure as his hips snap into you again, but it's enough to have you crying out for more.
In credit to Rick, he doesn't hold back. As he plunges into you at a relentless pace, you’re reduced to strangled sobs and moans, your fragile relationship with him breaking and reforming with every drag of his cock through your soaked channel.
You're not too far gone to understand that this might simply be an outlet for Rick's anger. A way to disperse whatever fear he felt towards your reckless behaviour on the mission. You are, however, too far gone to worry about that for now. You tuck the thought away, saving it for examination much later, focusing instead on the way he stretches and fills you so exquisitely.
"You're doin' so well, baby." Usually, Rick’s compliments are tinged with condescension, but not today. With each stroke of his cock he offers soothing praise that causes your cunt to convulse around him. "You look so fuckin' good like this."
You've always believed it a weakness to show emotion on the battlefield, but any thoughts about saving face in front of Rick are swiftly dissolved as he chases after your relief and his own. You cry out loudly when he tightens his grip on your throat, his other hand reaching down to strum your clit.
"Need you to come for me now, darlin'. I know you can do it. You're so good. So perfect."
He continues to coax you towards your climax, never faltering with his rhythm or his praise. Just like the countless missions he's led you on over the years, he's singularly focused on the outcome. You should have guessed he would make an attentive lover.
"Never gonna get over how fuckin' amazin' this pussy feels, baby. You've ruined me."
The band inside you suddenly snaps and your hands fly from the locker, fingernails digging into the flesh of his forearms as you ride the wave of your release. "Oh god, Rick."
As his name leaves your lips, his hips stutter violently and you feel him spill inside you, coating your walls with his spend. As he falls forward, his head tips against the curve of your neck and he presses another open-mouthed kiss to your skin.
"Darlin'..."
All at once, it's a promise and a plea. A prayer and a curse. There's so much to unpack in that one little word. But maybe it doesn't matter. At least not right now.
Maybe, like the kerosene and cloth of Harley’s beloved Molotov cocktails, you and Rick were always destined to ignite.
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Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @sociiallydiisoriiented @yespolkadotkitty @weallhaveadestiny @bewitchedignition @lavenderluna10 @lacontroller1991 @ed-baldwin @phoenixhalliwell @immyownlittlebitch @mayhem24-7forever @s-u-t @littlefreakingfangirl @katjnordstrom96 @kirsteng42 @heresathreebee @christinasyellowflowers @xoxabs88xox @fairchildflag
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giowritess · 3 months
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WORKS IN PROGRESS
fortnight
benny miller x f!reader | on-going mini series | fake dating; fluff; smut
weaker
michael corleone x f!reader || smut
FUTURE
will miller x f!reader || smut; reader is the younger sister of will’s best friend; age gap
rick flag x f!reader || smut; sorta enemies to lovers, flag is her superior and reader is a brat
jake ‘hangman’ seresin x f!reader ‘starboy’ || maybe im gonna continue this one im not sure; smut; reader is jake’s former enemy with benefits and they can’t stand each other
bucky barnes x f!reader || smut, requested
i would LOVE to get any requests for any of these characters:
javier pena
will and benny miller
michael corleone
aaron hotchner
rick flag
bucky barnes
andy barber
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reveluving · 1 year
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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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foli-vora · 1 year
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day 7: bath sex - rick flag.
warnings: f!reader. 18+ ONLY. i mean... the obvious - bath sex, unprotected p in v, the way this man physically makes me clench
a/n: 747 words. obviously not day 7 but we're rolling with the punches coz life. haven't written for ricky in a long while so this was nice. enjoy! x
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The floor is probably flooded by now, but you can’t bring yourself to care. How can you? He feels too fucking good, all thick muscle and hot, slick skin sliding against yours with every move of his body.
His broad frame covers you and pushes you back into the side of the tub, each heavy thrust into you causing the remaining warm water to slosh up against the edges and spill out onto the tile floor. God, there's barely any water left—
He shifts your leg, hitches it higher on his hips and thrusts deeper, his cock hitting somewhere so deliciously deep within you it physically tears the breath from your lungs.
You don’t fucking care about the water.
All that matters is the way he fills you, stretches you; the way he feels, muscles rippling under your hands and the way his groans melt into your tongue.
“Yeah, this really isn’t workin', darlin’,” Rick breathes into your mouth, teeth tapping lightly against yours as an indulgent grin spreads across his lips.
It’s not the most comfortable of positions, and he’s damn sure your back will have something to say about the way you’re laying in a few hours. The tub barely fits him, let alone the both of you…
You make a noise of denial, your brows coming together as your nails drag along his shoulders in an effort to bring him closer, swallowing down the pleased groan that falls from his throat.
“It’s—fuck, baby—it’s fine,” you babble, lost in the way his cock rubs against your walls and desperate to keep him right where he is. “This is fine –”
“‘Fine’?” He teases in a low growl, nipping at the tender skin of your throat and pinning you firmer against the ceramic, his hands curling around the icy cool edges in an attempt to find purchase.
He drags his hips against yours with an upward thrust, his pubic bone rubbing along your aching clit and bringing a flood of fire along your nerves.
“Good,” you spit through a moan, the unforgiving pressure against the swollen nerve causing your walls to clench and flutter around him. “So good, so fucking good—”
“Yeah?”
The gruff rumble of the word dissolves against your lips as his mouth captures your own, his tongue sweeping along your lower lip and sliding languidly along yours before something hungrier takes hold.
He consumes you, practically drinks you down like a man starved and the ferocity of it settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach, increasing the already out of control fire raging through your system.
"God I've missed you, missed this—" he groans roughly, breaking away from your mouth to look at the way you writhe and moan with each drive of his hips.
You nod along to his words despite being barely coherent, your fingers grasping at the slick skin of his back as his large, calloused hand splays at the base of your throat. There's power behind his touch as it moves up along your skin, his fingers briefly flexing around the width of it before it meets your jaw.
He smooths a thumb over your mouth, rolling the soft flesh of your lips beneath his touch, almost to commit the plush feel of them to memory.
Lips soon replace the rough pad and you lose yourself to another earth shattering kiss, relishing in the feel of his tongue dragging along yours and how it has your cunt tightening around him as he slams into you.
"M-missed you... gone so long—"
"I know," he soothes into your mouth, his deep tone like molten honey. "You've got me all weekend... will you let me make it up to you, darlin'?"
He's already doing a damn good job of that.
With a mastered precision only your focused Colonel could have, every thrust he focuses on your throbbing clit and hitting that wickedly sweet spot deep within your walls until stars start to frame your vision and the wet sound of flesh meeting flesh starts to bounce off the tile walls.
You're so fucking close and he knows it, his lips turning up against your throat.
"Gon—fu—ck... gonna make you work for it, Flag," you moan brokenly, each and every muscle winding and tightening in anticipation as he drags you further and further towards your blissful end.
His chuckle melts into your ear, "Is that right? Well you know I like a challenge. Come on, baby—show me what I've been missin'."
-
Reminder: taglists will not be used for kinktober. I’m tagging every fic with #foliskink22 if you want to follow along for the ride!
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Up in Smoke (Pure Angst Edition)
Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag
Summary: Rick feels terrible when he has to work late and misses dinner with you, but he is in for a deadly surprise when he gets home.
Word Count: 2318
TW: Angst, Language, Reader death, Smoke Inhalation, Heartbreak
Note: I wrote 2 different versions of this same idea. Both start the same but do take a dramatic shift after a few paragraphs so I would suggest reading both if you are interested.
This current one is extremely angsty with no happy ending.
The other one has angst, but also ends with comfort and fluff and can be found here.
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Rick sighed, glancing at the clock on his dashboard as he waited for the red light to turn green. It was 11:47 pm. Shit. He had promised he would be home early tonight to take you out to dinner. Just add it to the ever growing list of ways he let you down lately. Fuck Waller for forcing him to run drills with the team all night. She must have heard him talking to Economos about his big plans for tonight. That woman was the biggest cock-block he had ever met. First with June, now with you. If she even caught the smallest hint that he had something going on in his personal life, she did everything in her power to derail it. She didn’t even give him the chance to call or text you and let you know he was going to be late. And when he finally was able to check his phone as he was leaving the prison, he had half a dozen missed calls from you. When he tried calling back, your phone had gone straight to voicemail. Fuckin’ Waller!
He finally turned down his street still muttering under his breath, but his anger quickly shifted to confusion and panic as he saw three fire trucks parked outside his apartment. Smoke was still billowing out of the top of the building, but it seemed like the firefighters had managed to get the main blaze under control.
Rick quickly pulled his truck into the first open parking spot he saw and jumped out even before the engine had shuttered to a stop. There was a large crowd of people huddled around the barriers the police had set up and Rick recognized most of them from around the building. Spying Ms. Thompson, the friendly older woman who he sometimes cat sat for, he approached her.
Her worried face softened slightly when she saw him. “Ah, Colonel! I’m so glad to see you! We were all hoping you hadn’t been left up there. But seeing as where the fire started and all, we couldn’t be too sure.”
“No, I’m fine ma’am. I actually just got off of work. Can you tell me what happened?”
Her face dropped even further as a dark shadow passed over it. “Oh… I thought you knew. I’m sorry, Colonel, I am so sorry…but the fire started in your apartment.”
Rick’s face twisted up in confusion. “My apartment? How did that happen?”
She hesitated, placing a hand softly on his arm. “Your young lady stopped by.”
Rick’s blood ran cold. “No… she wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. I told her I would meet her at her place.”
Ms. Thompson saw the panic cross his face and she just shook her head. “I don’t know what happened, Rick. I haven’t seen her but…they just carried out a body a few minutes ago. They brought it over by the ambulances.”
Rick gave a quick nod of thanks then hurried up to the cops guarding the barrier. Pulling out his military id, he flashed it at the men.
“I am Colonel Richard Flag, Special Ops. This is my building, and I was just informed my girlfriend was involved in the fire. I want to see her. Now.” Rick barked the orders gruffly.
The two officers glanced over at each other hesitantly but stepped aside. Rick pushed past them and stormed over to where all the emergency vehicles were parked. But he stumbled to a stop when he saw a gurney with a body on it. The body was mostly covered in a thin white sheet, but the right arm had slipped out from under the covering, exposing it to the world.
Rick fell to his knees as he spied the familiar tattoo just recognizable through the burns on the body’s wrist. He folded over, forehead pressed tightly into the concrete as he released a wail of agony. This wasn’t supposed to happen, not to you. He had done everything he could to keep you away from the dangers in his life, yet you still had been taken from him.
A concerned looking cop approached Rick slowly. Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, he asked, “Hey, are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”
Rick sat up slowly, tears still streaming down his face. He managed to ask in a gravely, hoarse grunt, “What the hell happened?”
“Um, do you mean with the building?”
“No…her.” He jerked his head in the direction of your body but was unable to look at it again.
The cop understood immediately. He tightened his grip on Rick’s shoulder, giving it a rueful squeeze. “Ah, I’m sorry, son. We’re still trying to figure out what happened but the best we can figure, it seems she had some candles lit in the apartment and one of them must have fallen over. The fire spread quickly, and we don’t know how much time she had before…” He stopped and sighed. “Are you sure you want the details?”
Rick nodded stiffly so the cop continued. “I’m not supposed to be telling you this, but I heard you say you were special ops and all… We found her curled up by the front door of the apartment. She had burns on her arms and legs, but they weren’t too serious. It appears she…died… from smoke inhalation. There was a heavy chest of things next to her that we think she must have tried to go back for. But it’s all just speculation.”
“She wasn’t even supposed to be here….I was supposed to meet her for dinner tonight, but I got stuck at work.” Rick muttered robotically.
“One of your neighbors talked to her this afternoon when she arrived.” The cop shifted uncomfortably, but Rick once again nodded for him to continue. “Apparently, she said she was planning on cooking dinner for her boyfriend to surprise him when he got home from work. I’m assuming that's you.”
Rick squeezed his eyes closed tightly. He thought back to the conversation he had with you last night just before you headed home… your last conversation.
“Rick, we don’t have to go out tomorrow. We can just stay in and I’ll cook.”
“No, darlin’. I haven’t taken you out in weeks. You deserve to be shown a good time.”
“You show me the best time when we’re right here. Plus, you’re always exhausted when you get home from work. You don’t have to drag yourself out to some restaurant just because you think that’s what I want.”
“I’ll be fine. And we’re going to do things right. We’ll get dressed up all nice, you can wear that red dress I love so much, and then when we get back, I can take it off you. How’s that sound?”
“A little like overkill. I can just wear the dress over here and then you can still take it off.”
“Can you please just humor me for once? I get off at 5 so I can pick you up around 7. Is that okay?”
“It’s perfect, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow at 7. I love you.”
I love you. Those had been the last words you had said to him. He could tell you still weren’t happy with the situation as you left so it really didn’t surprise him that you would have snuck over to surprise him. You would have wanted to prove to him how wrong he was thinking they needed to go out to have a good time. This was all his fault….
“I need to see her.”
The cop sighed. “Son, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you think. I. Need. To. See. Her. Now.” Rick practically threw the words at the other man. The cop hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
As they approached your body, the cop motioned for the other men to leave the area. Rick deserved some privacy for what came next. Rick slowly trudged toward the gurney, each step making his feet feel heavier and heavier. And then, he was at your side.
At first, Rick didn’t have the strength to look at your face. His gaze got as high as your neck before he had to stop. The sheet that had been draped over you was pulled back and was folded at your collar bone, covering everything below that point. But Rick could see just the smallest bit of red sparkling from under the cloth and his heart seized. You were wearing the dress he had asked you to. The red one that always took his breath away.
He couldn’t put it off any longer. Rick followed the beautiful curve of your throat until his eyes settled on your face. Half of him was disappointed your eyes were closed as he was desperate to see them one more time. But the other half thanked God that they were. He didn’t think he could bear to see the blank, glazed look he knew would be staring back at him. Your face was slightly red, assumedly from the heat of the fire, and soot coated your skin, but besides that, you could just be sleeping. It was the same sight that had greeted him on countless mornings as he got up for work. But this time, you wouldn’t be rolling over, begging him to come back to bed for just a few more minutes. This time, you wouldn’t be sneaking up behind him to trail kisses down his bare back as he brushed his teeth. This time….you wouldn’t be waking up.
He could just imagine what had happened in the apartment. You crawling across the floor, desperate for air. Scratching frantically at the door when you finally managed to reach it, only to discover the doorknob was too scalding hot to turn. He knew you, and he knew that even up to your last moment, part of you would have believed that he would arrive in time to save you. That the man who swore to never let anything happen to you, who would always protect you, would swoop in and carry you to safety. And it was crazy he knew, but he could almost see his name imprinted on your lips, left when you whispered it with your last breath.
He lightly cupped your cheek, tilting your head down slightly. Then he leaned over and placed a last, long, lingering kiss to your forehead. You tasted of smoke and sweat but Rick didn’t care. He put everything he felt for you into this kiss. His love, his devotion, his sorrow, his regret, his guilt. He hoped that wherever you were now, you could feel all of it.
Finally, he had no choice but to pull away. Brushing his hand across your cheek one last time as he tried to memorize every pore on your face, Rick whispered, “Goodbye, darlin’.” And he turned his back on you.
The cop from before slowly approached Rick, a large chest in his arms. “We found this on the floor next to her. We think she was trying to carry it out and that is why she didn’t get out in time. We didn’t open it, so I have no idea what is inside. But it was in your apartment, so I see no reason you shouldn’t be able to take it now.”
Rick nodded and took it from the man. He had instantly recognized it as the one he kept stored in his closet. It was normally empty so he had no idea why you would have been trying to carry it with you. But it didn’t matter. If it was important enough for you to die over, Rick wasn’t going to leave it behind.
He walked back to his truck, ignoring the words of sympathy and condolences from his neighbors as he passed. He climbed into his driver’s seat and slammed the door shut, tossing the chest on the seat next to him. He sat there in silence for a moment before his dam burst. He slammed his fists repeatedly into his steering wheel as an animalistic howl of grief tore from his lips. It wasn’t fair! You hadn’t done anything wrong! All you were trying to do was do something nice for him. If he had just called, or demanded Waller let him leave like he had considered, you would still be here. If everything had gone according to plan, by this time tonight, the two of you should have been curled around each other after a night of passion.
Instead, he was sitting here alone with just this stupid chest. What could have possibly been so important for you to not flee the apartment immediately? What in his apartment was worth your life? He pulled the chest into his lap and opened the lid. What he saw inside took his breath away.
It was everything he would have wanted to save from his place. His military medals, the flag he had been given when his father was killed in action, the photo album that contained the only picture he had of his grandparents. It was all there, perfectly protected within the sturdy case. You had known exactly which irreplaceable items he would have mourned the loss of the most. Though nothing compared to the loss of you.
The last thing he pulled out, smushed at the bottom of the box, was the stuffed monkey he won for you on your first date. The one you snuggled with every night when you stayed over. The one that still smelled like you.
Rick curled himself around the ratty toy, smashing it so deeply into his chest it felt like part of him. And sitting there in his truck in the parking lot of his apartment building, the smell of smoke and ash still filling the air, he allowed himself to fall apart.
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rhettabbotts · 1 year
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Congrats on the followers!!!!! Very excited and happy for you!!!! You deserve each of those followers and more!!!
Here’s some thots with Rick Flag (yum)
Things started of as 23 (“this is a one time thing”) with Rick Flag and reader but then after a mission where Waller sent reader in with Dubois to play a married couple… Flag got all mad when Dubois and reader had to kiss that he then pulls reader into his office to “talk” and it turns into 36 (“you’re mine”) & 53 (“you’re more than just a one night stand”)
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TYSM MY LOVE AND OBSESSED W THIS OMFG
pairing: rick flag x subordinate!reader
w/c: 1.0k
warnings: 18+ only! mentions of oral sex (f receiving)
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you didn’t plan to sleep with rick, you knew it was practically forbidden. he was your superior for crying out loud. but, after a much needed night out with the team, you both had too many shots of tequila and you ended up dragging rick back to your apartment. it was all a blur of hands roaming over your body and your panties being ripped off at the seams. all tongue and teeth and strong arms wrapping around you.
much to your surprise, rick had a filthy mouth. the things he was grunting in your ear would’ve been more than enough to push you over the edge. as he fucked into you roughly, you couldn’t help but think how you wanted to do this every day for the rest of your life. and that thought terrified you.
“rick…” you tried getting his attention but his name came out like a moan.
“yeah, sweetheart. who’s making you feel this good?”
“rick… we- this- this is a one time thing. we can’t- can’t do this again,” you finally got out.
“you’re right,” he muttered, driving his hips into you that much harder. after you both reached that peak, he held you close to him that night. gone by the next morning, not without making you a pot of coffee first. he knew how much you liked his coffee. you went in to work and acted like nothing happened, and went on about your lives, until the next mission.
you swore waller did it on purpose. when she was debriefing everyone on the task at hand, she had a smirk on her face when she said you and dubois were to be married, schmooze the target and get the information you needed. it was ridiculous, there was really no reason for you to act as a married couple but knowing waller, she was going to get enjoyment out of making everyone uncomfortable.
you liked dubois, it was nothing against him. but waller made her instructions clear that all pda was on the table, since the target loved married couples. rick was silent the entire night, only speaking to bark out orders as to what needed to happen. you and dubois would meet the target, get what you needed, and get out. you could tell something was wrong though, rick would barely look at you. you knew you shouldn’t have slept with him, knew it would make things tense between you two. all rick said before you got out of the van was “be safe.”
turns out, dubois knew exactly what to do. holding your hand and kissing your neck, something you were not used to at all. dubois’s deep voice telling you to relax and at least look like you were having a good time made you giggle slightly and loosen up just a little more. that was until you heard rick’s gruff voice over the comms.
“we actually have work to do. get the drive and get out,” he demanded. his tone making you tense. the mission went over well, you got the information with no trouble or fighting, which was a surprise. as you made it back to base, rick told you he wanted to see you in his office. dubois gave you a pat on the shoulder and a quick “good luck” before heading out. rick was pacing his office floor when you walked in, his hair sticking everywhere like he had been tugging on it.
“colonel flag… is everything alright? did i do something wrong?” your voice sounded shaky, afraid of letting him down. he stopped his pacing and looked up at you, eyes wild. you had no time to think in the three steps it took for him to get to you. your brain short circuiting the second his large hands framed your face and his lips crashed onto yours.
“do you know how hard it was for me to see dubois with his hands all over you tonight? touching you and kissing you like you were his?” he said as he walked you back towards his desk, pushing off papers and files, not caring about he mess he’d have afterwards. your legs found purchase around his waist, pulling him close to you as you leaned on your elbows on the oak furniture. his eyes devoured your frame, one hand rubbing the thigh that peeked out of the slit in your dress.
“flag,” you started to say before he shook his head.
“call me rick, please.”
“rick… you know, you’re more than just a one night stand. you’re so much more than that.” you spoke softly, sitting up so you could rub your hands down his chest. he kissed you slowly this time, cradling the back of your head before he made his way down your neck. he kneeled in front of you, rubbing your calf muscle and looking up from underneath his lashes.
“can i get my mouth on you, darlin’? will you let me treat you right?” he asked, leaving an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your knee. you couldn’t get any words out, choking out a small “please” before he pushed your dress up and pulled your lacy underwear to the side, moving your legs to rest on his broad shoulders. his mouth was sin. he knew just how to make you clench and squirm and moan and whine out his name. you could feel him smirk against you, could feel him tracing your clit with his tongue, could feel him spell out his name. you were seeing stars behind your eyelids, rick’s mouth taking you higher than you’ve ever felt before. your hands found purchase in his hair, tugging and pulling him where you needed him. you felt like you were on a different plane, almost missing the way he muttered “you’re mine” against your wet cunt.
as you lay there breathless, chest heaving and your hands still glued to rick’s hair, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. rick slid your legs off his shoulders, kissing along the inside of your thighs before doing so. you felt so giddy, light as a feather.
“what are you grinning about?” rick asked, a smile spreading on his wet mouth to match yours.
“we definitely cannot be just a one time thing.” you said, voice still a little shaky but you couldn’t stop smiling up at him.
“i don’t think i could give you up, sweetheart.” rick whispered before placing a small kiss to your lips, smirking when you deepened it. no, you thought to yourself, definitely couldn’t give him up now.
join my celly!!
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violetmuses · 1 year
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Best Of All - Rick Flag
TITLE: “Best Of All” || Rick Flag 
FANDOM: “Suicide Squad” Film Universe
CHARACTER: Colonel Richard “Rick” Flag 
PAIRING: Rick Flag + Female Reader 
MAIN STORYLINE: No matter what, Rick will always love you. 
Author’s Note: Hey, ya’ll! I’m back for now and this short drabble is dedicated to @lacontroller1991. Happy Birthday, Sweetheart! We love you so much. Stay safe and have fun. - V. 💜
Main Masterlist 💜
J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96  @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @bewitchedignition @maddu-oliveira @reveluving @pirategamora @hodgepodge-of-rog @ijustthinkrickflagisprettyneat @11thstreetvigilante
__________
2021
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It’s nearly freezing outside one morning. You struggle to warm up underneath the covers. You don’t want to wake up Rick, who usually sleeps beside you every time. 
And yet, you feel around the bed and find yourself alone, puzzled because Rick never leaves this place without telling you first. 
Not long after you sit up against the pillows, sizzling reaches your eardrums. 
Breakfast. Your heart settles down because he’s only cooking breakfast. There’s no need to panic. 
You carefully move from these covers and pad your feet to leave this bedroom, hiding past one slight corner to see him in the kitchen. 
He’s shirtless. Both tattoo ink and faded harsh scars run up or down his muscular arms.
 You subconsciously bite your lip, watching his back slightly flex. Rick Flag always concentrates while cooking, rivaling an attention span on the battlefield. 
He’s finally able to turn down the stovetop and glance over one shoulder. The view of him takes your breath away. 
That blondish hair almost covers his forehead and he smiles towards you, showing off these pretty hazel eyes. It’s so unfair to you. 
“Good morning. Happy birthday, Darlin.’” Rick says, winking towards you before plating the meal twice and pouring coffee for himself. 
“Thank you, Handsome.” You kiss his lips right before sitting down at the kitchen table, forever grateful to still have him around. 
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