#rick flag x you

[reveluving]

the bump in the night ; rick flag x reader

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 🕷️'!

'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. 

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. 

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 . · ˚

» a/n: ahh hubby rick <3 ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

#reve's quirky reverie 🕷 #— reve's reverie 🌹 #rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag x female reader #rick flag x f!reader #rick flag x you #rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #colonel flag #colonel rick flag #colonel rick flag x reader #tss 2021 #tss #joel kinnaman #husband rick #hubby rick

[drabbles-mc]

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!)

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.”

#suicide squad #the suicide squad #rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #x reader #x reader fic #suicide squad fanfic #the suicide squad fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #drabblesmc #navy and roo's sleepover #navy and roos sleepover #slumber party #slumber party bingo #rick flag fanfiction

[samantha-rae-velcher]

Master List Pt. 2

YouTubers

Swaggersouls

Streamers Dream - smut

Markiplier

Games of the many - smut

Joysticks and pushing buttons - smut

Sticks and stones - smut

That one look - smut

The punishment unforgotten - Violence/smut

A need for it and her - smut

The stress is real - fluff

"Im sorry, honey" - fluff

Roomies or More? (Egos) - smut

Yancy NSFW alphabet - smut

Love mistaken for hate (Wilford Warfstache) - fluff

Don't fear the reaper (Darkiplier) - smut

Dark lust (Darkiplier) - smut

Static (Darkiplier) - smut

Warp core breech Pt.1 (ISWM) - fluff

Warp core breech Pt.2 (ISWM) - fluff

Seeing Stars (ISWM) - fluff

Jacksepticeye

Blue tint and cold tiles - smut

Marvel

Me and the Devil walking side by side (Daredevil) - fluff

Sorcerer Supreme (Doctor Strange) - smut

More like Einstein (Tony Stark) - smut

Two tons of iron (Tony Stark) - smut

Green-ish (Bruce Banner) - smut

Tender Touch (Scott Lang) - smut

The speed of light (Pietro Maximoff) - fluff

Courts of Green Pt.1 (Bucky Barnes) - fluff

Courts of Green Pt.2 (Bucky Barnes) - fluff

Courts of Green Pt.3 (Bucky Barnes) - Violence/ fluff

Feathers and Swords (Clint Barton) - smut

Hawks gold (Clint Barton) - fluff

As beautiful as an angel (Yondu Udonta) - fluff

Fear makes love (Ronan the accuser) - smut

Sharp as steel (Wolverine) - smut

Blades that steel the heart (Wolverine) - fluff

Obviously not that obvious (Drax the Destroyer) - smut

DC

Tattoo Buddies (Chato Santana) - fluff

Soldier Boy (Rick Flag) - smut

Slice and dice (Captain boomerang) - smut

Scars and stripes (BOP Victor Zsasz) - smut

TWD

Guns of blazing love (Aaron) - smut

Maybe evil Maybe not But just about (Shane) - smut

Barbed Wire Pt.1 (Negan) - smut

Barbed Wire Pt.2 (Negan) - Smut

Barbed Wire Pt.3 (Negan) - Violence/fluff

Barbed Wire Pt.4 (Negan) - Violence/fluff

Barbed Wire Pt.5 (Negan) - smut

Barbed Wire Pt.6 (Negan) - Violence/fluff

Barbed Wire Pt.7 (Negan) - Violence/fluff

Barbed Wire Pt.8 (Negan) - fluff

Star Wars

The light within (Qui Gon Jinn) - fluff

The force of two (Qui Gon Jinn) - fluff

The force binds all (Obi Wan Kenobi) - smut

The intimidating side of things (Boba Fett) - smut

Orders (Poe Dameron) - angst/ fluff

Black ink (Darth Maul) - smut

The Witcher

How The Witcher men react when you cry - fluff

Bard and Bells (Jaskier) - fluff

Gotham

Gotham Villains teaching s/o to shoot a gun

Gotham Villains when s/o doesn't answer the phone

How Gotham Villains react to their s/o getting shot

Sexting with Oswald Cobblepot - smut

Gotham's King and Queen (Oswald Cobblepot) - angst

I will kill you (Oswald Cobblepot) - fluff

Emperor Penguin (Oswald Cobblepot) - smut

Smoking Roses Pt.1 (Victor Zsasz) - smut

Smoking Roses Pt.2 (Victor Zsasz)- smut

Tainted Riddle (Ed Nygma) - fluff

What am I? (Ed Nygma) - fluff/Violence

Five-O (Jim Gordon) - smut

Stalked (Jeremiah Valeska) - Violence/fluff

Fantastic Beasts

Blue fire and silver smoke (Gellert Grindelwald) - fluff

Heaven without fear (Credence Barebone) - smut

Boardwalk Empire

Gentleman with a dark side (Arnold Rothstein) - smut

#gellert grindelwald x fem reader #crimes of grindelwald #credence barebone x reader #jeremiah valeska x reader #ed nygma x fem reader #oswald cobblepot x reader #jaskier x fem!reader #geralt of rivia x reader #qui gon jinn x reader #obi wan x fem reader #poe dameron x fem reader #darth maul x fem reader #negan the walking dead #twd aaron x reader #rick flag x you #captain boomerang x reader #victor zsasz x you #markiplier x reader #bucky barns x reader #clint barton x fem reader #yondu udonta x fem reader #matt murdock x y/n #tony stark x reader smut #fyp #fanfic #foryou #foryoupage #x reader #bruce banner x you #doctor strange x reader

[lacontroller1991]

Bull Ride (Rick Flag x F!Reader)

Main Master List || DC Master List

Warnings: SMUT 18+, language, dirty talk, sexual suggestions, drinking, innuendos, girl on top, unestablished relationship, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), creampie, uncovered feelings, tipsy sex with consent

Inspired by a conversation with @a-reader-and-a-writer a long time ago.

-----------

Rick looks over his shoulder for the ninth time in a row, his hands gripping his mug a little tighter each time as he watches you laugh in amusement, a smile never leaving your face as you watch man after man get tossed from the mechanical bull. Rick grumbles at the sight, swirling his beer around before downing it and making his way over to the crowd.

Tapping on the announcer's shoulder, Rick asks to be next as he catches your eyes from the arena, a perfect brow raised in question.

"Alright folks, our next contestant is Rick!" The crowd cheers around him but his ears tune out all the others, only focusing on the way you cheer his name. The man places a worn cowboy hat on Rick's parted hair before giving him a slap on the back. "Good luck." Rick nods as he hops over the barricade and straddles the mechanical bull. Gripping onto the handle with one hand, Rick holds onto the hat as the bull slowly begins to move. After picking up pace, Rick's body flows with each rough thrust of the bull. People around him cheering and screaming in support as Rick manages to stay on the bull longer than most of the previous riders.

You, on the other hand, can't help the way the blush slowly blooms under your skin as your eyes fixate on his posture and how it moves in tandem. And his hips. His damn hips. "Hot damn." A girl next to you mutters as she twirls a finger in her hair, her heated gaze watching Rick's body. You roll your eyes in annoyance as jealousy creeps in. It's not like he's yours. He's merely a friend, a coworker, but damn you wish he was yours. You take another sip of the drink in your hand as the bull starts to slow down.

"Alright, easy there cowboy. Don't wanna show up everybody now," the announcer jokes as the bull comes to a complete stop, allowing Rick to slip off with grace and make his way over to you, a shit eating grin on his face, but before he can make a comment, the girl from earlier steps in.

"Howdy cowboy. Wanna take me for a ride?" You have to resist the urge to kick her ass into the floor as Rick lightly places his hands on her arms and pushes her to the side, unveiling you.

"Enjoy the show?"

"Oh for sure. You were definitely entertaining," you comment, plucking the hat off his head and placing it on yours, a sudden surge of confidence flowing through you. "Though I'd like to see what else those hips could do, Colonel."

Rick chuckles, taking the drink out of your hand, the adrenaline from the ride and alcohol coursing through his veins and giving him the courage to flirt back. "Well darlin', that's if you can handle the ride."

"What makes you think I can't, Colonel?" Rick blushes as your manicured hand traces down his covered abdomen. "I don't think you could handle the rider."

Rick takes a step closer, walking into your touch and you can't deny the pure energy that flows between the contact. "Why don't we get outta here and find out?" Your previously hooded eyes shoot wide open as you take in the meaning of his words and for a second you can see the regret in Rick's eyes at the bold suggestion. "I mean, we don't actually have to. I was just flirtin'. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He mentally beats himself up as his eyes roam the room, finding interest in a random hole on the wall. He knows he shouldn't have said anything. He knows he should've stuck to just keeping things professional but a hand on his forearm stirs him from his thoughts as he looks down at you, sporting a soft smile.

"No, no." You're quick to reassure him. "I could go for a ride."

You and Rick kiss each other with a blind passion, teeth clanging against each other as he backs you and him through the door to his apartment. Falling onto the couch, Rick's hands fall to your hips and drag you on top, your legs straddling either side of his legs as his hands roam around your body.

Breaking away, the two of you pant as you hastily get undressed, dying to have full skin on skin contact. Slipping off his lap, you shove your pants and underwear off before yanking your shirt off, sitting naked on his couch as he shoves his pants down enough for his cock to spring out and slap against his stomach, precum leaking out of the tip. He immediately grabs his member and gives himself a couple of pumps as you reposition yourself over his lap.

"Are you sure about this, we can stop." You shake your head, pushing his hand away and grabbing his member, running the tip over your wet folds.

"1000%. You have no clue how many times I've thought of this." Rick smirks at your comment, his hands falling to your hips.

"Is that so? You think about this? About us?" You nod, jolting forward slightly when his tips nudges your clit. "How often?"

You don't know if now is the time to be admitting your feelings for the colonel, but judging by the way he's looking at you with hope in his lustful eyes. Might as well. "Every night."

Rick resists the urge to break out in a big grin and hop from his chair in excitement at your proclamation of attraction, after all, it means that he has a 99.9% chance that you would say yes to a date if he would ask and he likes those odds. Instead, he hangs his head and smiles softly, a perfect ash blond lock falling to his forehead and you immediately push it back, causing him to look up at you from his position. "How about we take this to the bed?"

"I think I'd like that." Rick nods his head before standing up and carrying you to his bedroom as your hands mess with his short cropped hair. It doesn't take long before he is laying you out on the bed and slotting himself between your legs, his large frame covering yours.

"Are you absolutely sure?" His normal hazel eyes now seem a dark brown in the dark of the night as he stares down at you, looking for any sign of hesitation.

Smirking, you wrap your legs around his waist and flip him over to where you situate yourself on top, breasts heaving with each breath causing Rick to drool. He always knew you like to be in charge, in fact it sometimes causes arguments between the two of you, but now? Rick doesn't think he minds you in control. "I did say I was gonna ride you, didn't I?"

Taking control of the situation, you grab ahold of his member before lining him up with your sex and slip him in as the both of you groan at the sensation. You had always fantasized about how Rick would feel buried in you, fantasized about how big he is, but in comparison to the real thing, your fantasies severely underestimated how it would actually feel. "Fuck darlin'. You're so tight."

Blush blooms underneath your cheeks as you hesitantly roll your hips, watching his face and gauging for a reaction. Much like on the field and in the office, Rick shows little to no expression at the movement of your hips. Normally you would pass off his stoic behavior as just him keeping to himself, but you really don't think now is the time for him to be silent. Stilling yourself, you place your hands on his chest, being very careful to avoid the angry scar down his left pec. "Y'know Rick, my job would be easier if you gave me some sort of clue as to how you feel."

Rick honestly didn't realize his stoic behavior. If he's being honest with himself, he's just trying to keep his cool and to not cum in you. If he did, he doesn't think he would be able to forgive himself for embarrassing him in front of you, especially during sex. Instead, Rick's large hands place themselves on your hips as he guides you along his member, sitting up and sliding deeper into you, the tip of his member hitting your cervix, causing you to gasp while Rick smirks. "Trust me darlin', I feel amazing." He captures your lips against his, your hips moving in tandem with each other as he slides in and out of you with ease. "Don't think I'll be able to last much longer with the way you rock those hips."

If you thought he already had a southern accent, the alcohol and the lust make it ten fold and if you didn't know who you were with, you would probably assume that you weren't with Rick. Still, his accent, his scent, the way he feels in you, the heat of his skin, and the way he holds you in his grasp has your orgasm approaching. Knotting your hands in his hair, you let mindless fingers pull at soft tufts as your pants get louder, spurring the colonel on. "That's it, darlin'. Use my cock to make you cum."

One more thrust is all you need before you're letting out broken moan into the night as your orgasm crashes over you, waves of pleasure radiating down from your head to your toes as Rick continues to thrust up into you with the sole intent of bringing his orgasm. Noticing how his hips start to falter, you grab his chin and turn it towards you, a different kind of ferocity in your eyes. "I want you to cum. I want you to cum in me, Rick. Make me yours."

"Fuck." Rick's eyes roll back in his head as he spurts his hot cum in you while you rock your hips against his to coax him through his orgasm. After a minute of collective breathing, he gently picks you off his lap and sets you down beside him on his bed as his hand finds yours. "I want to do that again."

"Right now?" You question with a giggle as he brings your had up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles that sends butterflies to your stomach.

"Well, I'll need a couple of minutes before round two, but I'm talking about permanently. Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Smiling, you roll onto your stomach and rest your chin on his chest. "I think I'd love to. But now," you drag a finger down his chest, twirling a strand of his happy trail between your fingers, sporting a grin that has Rick's cock twitching, "I wanna do that again."

==========

Author's Note: So this is the first full length Rick fic I've posted in a while but I hope you guys enjoy!!!!!!

General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @a-reader-and-a-writer @fairchildflag @infatuatedjanes

Joel Related Tag List: @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @witchygagirl @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachelh1992 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @knivesareout @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @katjnordstrom96 @bb-skyrunner @11thstreetvigilante @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @madkovacs @wxr-zxne @wtfobiwan @alieninoklahoma @sociiallydiisoriiented @violetmuses @neon-supernova

#rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #joel kinnaman #rick flag #colonel rick flag x reader #colonel rick flag x you #colonel rick flag #colonel flag x reader #colonel flag x you #colonel flag #the suicide squad #dceu tss #tss #suicide squad #releasetheayercut #rick flag smut #reader insert #female reader #lacontroller1991

[foli-vora]

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!

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 💖

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.

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.

#foli's 3k #rick flag x reader #rick flag x f!reader #rick flag x you #rick flag imagine #suicide squad fic #dc fanfic

[your-averagewriter]

"I thought they killed you."

Summary: (y/n) is isolated after the disaster on the beach but luckily she's found just in time but just the right people. (Rick Flag x reader)

Word count: 1.0K

Warnings: Blood, injury, violence, weapons, swearing, (usual Suicide Squad things)

-

-

I stumble through the forest patting the fire out on my arm, the burnt cloth scratching against my wounds. The mission wasn’t meant to go like this - I can’t believe Blackguard sold us out. Actually I can believe it because I don’t know him, barely any of us know each other which is one of our problems, you can’t just trust strangers on a suicide mission.

So far, I imagine most of the squad is dead and those that aren’t are isolated waiting to be picked off by the soldiers hunting us through the forest.

But I keep going in the hopes that someone is alive or finding anyone at this rate would be good, friend or enemy.

Holding onto the branch above I steady myself as I try to make my way down a hill but I trip falling. I can feel my stomach reeling and despite my head feeling heavier than ever I pull myself up off the ground and continue, desperately, not knowing what’s ahead. It would be nice if next time (if there is a next time) Waller would come up with a plan B or an evacuation tactic but she doesn’t care about what happens to us so I doubt she will.

Soon after I realize that I’m bleeding from my arm, a cut, not deep but not shallow either so I rip off some cloth from my dirtied trousers and tie it around the wound, making sure there’s adequate pressure. At this rate I could bleed out from my wounds before I even get anywhere.

I hear footsteps and voices, although my head is pounding so badly that I can’t hear properly and can’t bring myself to care. Maybe if it’s some soldiers they can finish me off.

Turning the corner I can barely hold myself up but I see a familiar face I certainly didn’t expect to see.

“DuBois?” I question quietly, wondering whether I’ve lost enough blood to start hallucinating. But before I can even take another step I feel my body go limp and I collapse on myself, falling to the ground. All I hear is DuBois saying my name, worriedly before I feel my consciousness leave me.

I feel my eyelids flutter open as I’m met with a pale canopy roof. My head is killing me and my mind is fogged over with confusion and questions. I look down at my body and see all my wounds have been properly dressed and some stitched up. My skin is still dirty along with my clothes but all traces of my blood have been removed. I question why I’m here but that’s when I remember what happened before I must have passed out.

“DuBois?” I say again, quietly as I sit up. I instantly regret it as all the blood rushes to my head and I feel myself becoming faint again but it passes after a few moments.

Looking around the room, there are a couple of wooden chairs and the floor is planked - I can see through the slither of the entrance to the canopy that we’re still in a forest.

Suddenly I hear footsteps from outside the canopy and I instantly reach for my weapons but they’ve been removed so I look for the closest, best option which ends up being a syringe - it hasn’t got any liquid in it but any object in my hand becomes a weapon. I realize my shoes have been removed as I place my bare feet onto the planks, it takes me a second to stand up but after, I manage to limp quietly to the entrance.

My back is pressed up against the fabric of the canopy as I await the impending footsteps, ready with the syringe in hand.

Someone pushes the fabric aside and walks in but as soon as they do I throw my arm around their neck, effectively choking them and placing the needle so it presses against the skin of their neck, not quite piercing it but could easily be if needed.

They don’t struggle and I notice by their uniform that they’re not a civilian but whether they’re friend or foe remains unknown.

Another figure walks in behind the uniformed stranger.

Rick Flag.

My face is a painting of confusion as I look at him and then to the stranger. He walks slowly towards me.

“(y/n).” He says gently. “Put the needle down.” He says again in a soft tone as he walks towards me, hands reaching for mine. “You’re okay.”

“Rick?” I question, not entirely sure he’s there or why. “What are you-What are you doing here? I thought you…” Tears start to brim my eyes as I look at him. “I thought they killed you.” I say, my voice wavering, unable to stop the trembling.

“Put the needle down.” He’commands’ but it’s still gentle. I lower the needle slowly and release the person from my grip. Dropping the needle to the ground, Rick immediately wraps me in his arms.

“You’re okay, you’re safe here.” He reassures me, his hand stroking the back of my head as I bury my face in his chest.

“I don’t understand, I saw them, they had you!” I say. “I saw it with my own eyes!” I exclaim, tears flowing from my eyes now. “I tried to help you but they- they.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter now. I escaped, you escaped. That’s all that matters.”

“And DuBois? I saw him! I swear.” 

“He brought you back here, he said you fainted just after he saw you. You were hurt pretty badly.”

“Why is DuBois here?” I ask and all the confusion is only making my head hurt more.

“Waller went behind our backs and set up a second team. We were a distraction.”

“A distraction? Fucking brilliant.” I mumble, shocked but not surprised at Waller’s actions. “We were sent to die?” He sighs but nods.

“I’m just glad you’re alive.”

“Waller can’t get rid of me that easily.” I say with a small smirk and I can tell that he’s glad I’ve kept my humour throughout this shit show.

-

AN: First piece of writing I've done in a while!

I've been doing exams and working so I haven't posted much but I've finished my exams now so you can expect me to post more (hopefully more Suicide Squad content because I LOVE the movies).

Hope you enjoyed reading and requests are open!

#the suicide squad #rick flag x reader #fanfiction #the suicide squad x reader #x yn #x y/n #suicide squad #rick flag x y/n #rick flag x you #rick flag x yn #suicide squad x reader #rick flag #fanfic #dc x reader #suicide squad x you #x you #x reader #suicide squad x y/n #suicide squad x yn #the suicide squad x you #the suicide squad x yn #the suicide squad x y/n #the suicide squad fanfiction #the suicide squad fanfic #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #dc x you #robert dubois #bloodsport #dc fanfiction

[loverhymeswith]

Say You Want Me and I'm Yours

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 💖

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.

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

#rick flag #joel kinnaman #rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #the suicide squad #colonel rick flag #rick flag smut #dceu fanfic

[magicalqueennightmare]

The Soldier and His Witch

Just Us

Safe Enough

I Lied

Come Home

Come Home Part 2

#rick flag x you #rick flag x y/n #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag x reader #rick flag imagine #rick flag x female reader #rick flag x metahuman reader

[deliciousangelfestival]

Kill My Ex (?) Chap 1 - dark!Lloyd Hansen

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,-

‘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. 

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."

What do you think, guys?? Do you like it? Do you want this made to be a series?

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Taglist:

@magnificentsaladllama

@sabrinaselina55

@patzammit

#lloyd hansen x fic #dark!lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen x reader #chris evans characters #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x reader #soft!dark lloyd hansen x y/n #soft!dark lloyd hansen imagine #soft!dark lloyd hansen x reader #rick flag x you #rick flag x y/n #rick flag x reader #the grey man #lloyd hansen imagine #lloyd hansen x y/n #soft!dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen x f!reader #series

[giowritess]

thinkin about rick flag.

people!! there’s this (+18) rick flag fic that i recently started working on. it’s gonna be finished maybe by mid-next week, and i was thinking about it…

it might turn out longer than i expected but with different scenes, so i was wondering what you prefer:

lemme know your thoughts ❤️‍🔥

our favorite cowboy just for clarification purposes

#giowritess #writing #gio talks #fanfiction #rick flag #rick flag smut #colonel rick flag x you #rick flag x you #rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfic #suicide squad #suicide squad fanfiction

[reveluving]

I have another ideaaaa 👀 I imagine Santi and Benny being very flamboyant when it comes to showing their admiration for someone. Imagine Rick bringing lunch to reader’s unexpectedly just to see Santi bringing her flowers and Benny giving her the heart eyes. My poor flag baby might have a stroke just from the scene in front of hiiimmm!!

a/n: Aria, baby. it’s been a long ass time ✋🏼😔 BUT THE FIXATION IS BACK (kinda. largely because I’ve been reading fics after fics of Oscar & Pedro chars. RAAAAAH). so we’re here baby, after 1 ½? 2 years later???? ENJOY

warnings: humour & fluff; poor Rick just wants to love you in peace.

j.k. m.list (series under 'rick flag vs the triple frontier boys'), or check out my full m.list!

Oh, you know Rick’s eyes are TWITCHING. The paper bag in his hand, packed with lunch from your favourite stop, crumpling in his grasp, almost tearing at the top. Not the food though, he’s not trying to ruin his wife’s favourite. 

But he’s chill. Absolutely chill. He swears. 

Benny and Santi just had to stop by the same time he came home from work, both leaning against the white porch railing while you sat prettily on the bench. 

Benny was expressive in whatever he was talking about, likely his last boxing match from the way he was holding the air in a headlock before the three of you shared a laugh. As much of a troublemaker they were, they were your friends, after all. He’d chase them off his property or warn them with a glare any day if it meant cutting off any form of ‘allegiances’ with that horrible past, both yours and his.

Just when you were about to reply to God knows what they asked, you noticed Rick lingering by the mailbox. Your eyes lit up, and it didn’t take the duo any other hints to know that he was home.

“Rick!” You enthusiastically waved at your husband, beckoning him to sit on the bench next to you. Rick couldn’t help but smile back at you, walking over and ignoring the two until he reached the top step of the stairs.

“Boys.” He greeted them, going over to shake Santiago’s hand before Benny’s, flexing his hands as they shook to see if the other would break. None did, as usual, pulling away and somewhat putting the tension on hold in favour of you. Rick took a seat next to you, passing you the bag of food and a soft ‘there y’go, baby’ (but not really, he made sure the two would hear it). 

It took a few seconds, making sure he greeted you with a kiss before stretching his arm to lay on the backrest behind you.

“So, what’s the occasion?”

“The boys just came over to say hi. Gave me these flowers from the flower shop nearby,” You raised the calla lilies that were resting on your lap. Now, Rick was no flower specialist, but he has been to the shop countless times to buy you your own fix. 

And if he remembered correctly, they generally represented beauty.

Well played.

“And Santi was just telling me about this new Cuban restaurant just outside the neighbourhood.” You continued, turning to Santiago with an encouraging smile so he could tell Rick about it.

“Cuban restaurant, huh?” 

Santiago curtly nodded to his curiosity. 

“The best. Might even be your new favourite once you both try it.” He explained, only to glance at the paper bag Rick was holding—a look that was almost… Judgemental? Critical? All of the above? All Rick knew that the man before him was silently scoffing at his choice. 

And, well, Santi wouldn’t exactly deny that claim, either. 

Rick didn’t hide the scoff, only to pair it with a faux smile so you could take it as nothing more than a harmless banter, “Gotta be real good then. ‘Cause this here,” He cocked his head in the paper bag’s direction, “Is my wife’s favourite place. Our favourite place.”

Rick not only had to watch out for the bold claim Santi was making, but he also had to bear in mind the sight of Benny openly looking at you like a lovestruck puppy. The promising boxer didn’t even care about the passive-aggressive argument going on around him. He was just appreciating the beaut in front of him.

(Man’s just doesn’t give a shit atm).

“Hey, I’m not here to burst your bubble,” Santi huffed in amusement, raising his hands in a defensive way, “But I’m not trying to give the pretty girl any mediocre recommendations either. C’mon Flag, you, of all people, should know that we want the best for her.”

“Aw, Santi, you’re too kind.” You were touched and it showed, and Rick couldn’t argue with the statement. Without a doubt, he wants what was best for you, be it food, comfortable clothes, gourmet treats for the fucking neighbourhood cat you adore—anything. 

In the midst of their silent argument, you reached for Rick’s hand, holding his larger ones in between yours, “I’m sure Rick and I will enjoy it,” He mirrored the warm smile as you stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, only to break when you addressed the two, “And if it’s as good as you said it is, we might as well have a get together.”

Oh. 

You were growing concerned of the two’s silence, eyes darting back and forth and almost—almost asking what was wrong until Benny, as if snapped out of his trance, finally, spoke up. 

“Absolutely.” Benny raised his hand in a manner that a believer would in church. 

Abso-fucking-lutely.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics ♡

#— reve's reverie 🌹 #— reve's asks 🌹 #rick flag x reader #rick flag x f!reader #rick flag x female reader #rick flag x reader fluff #rick flag x you #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman x reader #tss 2021 #benny miller x reader #benny miller x f!reader #benny miller x female reader #benny miller x you #benny miller #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x f!reader #santiago garcia x female reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago pope garcia #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier x you #rick flag vs the triple frontier boys

[drabbles-mc]

A Bet's A Bet

Rick Flag x F!Reader

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo Square: lost a bet

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, pining

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I love him, what else can I say? 😂 I love to see a gruff, grumpy man squirm a little bit lmao.

Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge @beardburnsupersoldiers @words-and-seeds @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“This is ridiculous,” Rick muttered as he picked the shot glass up from the surface of the bar.

You laughed as you watched him drink it, his head tilted back for a moment. He hardly even cringed. “I mean, you sort of set yourself up for it.” The offended look on his face was impossible to miss and it only made you laugh harder. “What? He’s literally so good at shooting people that they let him back out of prison to do it. Did you really think that you were going to beat him?”

“You don’t think I could?”

You shook your head before taking a sip of your beer. “I think that remains to be seen.” You flagged down the bartender and asked them to bring Rick another shot. You saw the look he gave you and laughed. “What? The bet was two shots and one—”

“I know, I know,” he grumbled, begrudgingly downing the second shot before looking back over at you again, “Just didn’t think that you would sell me out like that.”

You hummed in amusement even though you knew that he most likely couldn’t hear you over the noise of the bar. “I’m here to keep you honest, Flag.”

The shot glass made a loud clattering sound as he practically tossed it back onto the bar. “I think I might be the only honest one here.” He heard the dramatic gasp you let out at his statement and he laughed before looking over at you. “Yea. Including you.”

Your offended façade only lasted a moment longer before you started laughing again. “Fuck off. If you didn’t want me here, I wouldn’t be.”

“You know I don’t pick—”

“You don’t get to pick anyone from the roster in Belle Reve,” you pointed at him with the beer bottle in your hand, “but you do get to pick who’s gonna be on your team if they’re not behind bars.” His silence spoke volumes and you laughed in triumph. “And here I am yet again!”

“Shut up and drink your beer,” he said, shaking his head like you couldn’t spot the way the ends of his mouth were beginning to curl into a smile.

“Alright,” you took another swig, “but when I’m done, you gotta—”

“I know what I gotta,” he cut you off as he leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the edge of the bar.

“You make it sound so unbearable.” You couldn’t help but to laugh at his dramatics.

He turned around so that he was facing the dance floor. Leaning, he rested back against the bar. He spoke to you even though his eyes were scanning the rest of the bar and the dancefloor to keep an eye on the rest of your team.

“How long you known me?” he asked, still not looking at you.

You laughed as you maneuvered to copy his position. “Too fuckin’ long at this point, I think,” you joked.

“Right,” he agreed with a nod before finally looking over at you. “And in all that time, when the hell have you ever seen me dance?”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but then you snapped it shut again when you realized that you really hadn’t ever seen it. Not even way back when you were all deployed together and had downtime to fuck around between ops. Things got crazy when the whole squad had too much time on their hands, but no matter the volume of the music or the number of drinks that were passed around, Rick never danced. He got up to plenty of other ridiculous and irresponsible things, but not that.

“Holy shit,” you finally said with a laugh.

His lips flattened into a thin line and he have a single nod. “Yea.”

“Wait a second,” you shut your eyes tight for one moment as your brain started putting all of the puzzle pieces together, creating more of the insane picture that was Colonel Rick Flag, “you’re telling me that we’ve been out here, doing all of this insane shit, and you’ve never—”

“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.

“Because I can’t believe it.” You shook your head. “Out here ready to be murdered by an alien or something when you’ve never even danced.”

“Tell me how those two things are related?”

“Alright,” you said as you shook your head. Bringing your beer bottle to your lips, you downed the rest of it in one go before setting it back on the bar and looking over at Rick. “Let’s go. Come on.”

You started to walk away from the bar and towards the dancefloor. You only got a step and a half away before you noticed that Rick wasn’t following you. You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. Turning back around, you reached and grabbed onto his hand.

“Let’s go!” you said with a laugh.

Rick huffed, but he let you pull him along. If he really wanted nothing to do with it, he would’ve just planted his feet and been done with it. He dragged his feet a little bit but he still went. You felt it the moment it went from you just grabbing onto his hand to pull him along to him grasping your hand back. His fingers hooked around yours, the callouses of his palm rough but still warm against yours. You were glad that your back was mostly to him and that he couldn’t see the stupid little grin on your face over it.

“This is so fuckin’ stupid,” he muttered when the two of you got to the middle of the dancefloor.

You laughed, knowing that it was loud enough that no one else probably heard him, but you certainly did. “And yet,” you stepped in so you were pressed close to him, “you’re still out here.”

He scoffed. “A bet’s a bet.”

You were giddy. “Very honorable of you, Colonel.” There were a few beats where neither of you said anything, neither of you moved, and you couldn’t help but to laugh. Resting your hands flat against his chest, you leaned in so that he’d hear you without having to yell. “I think the bet was more than just you getting out here, Flag.”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m aware.”

“It’s not that bad. Promise.”

He looked at everyone around the two of you. It was like no one even noticed that he was there, which he would be eternally grateful for after he survived this. He scanned the place, and realized that the only person watching him besides you, was DuBois, the person who had sent him out onto the dancefloor in the first place. Before he watched long enough to see the rest of the team crumble into fits of laughter at his expense, his eyes were back on you. You seemed as unfazed about this as you were about everything else.

“I don’t think you were part of the bet, by the way,” he mentioned as you danced.

You laughed. “Yea, ‘cause you were gonna come out here alone. Sure.” You could see the way he was shaking his head and even though you couldn’t hear him with all the noise in the bar, you were sure that he was mumbling and cursing under his breath. Bringing your hands from his chest to his sides, you forced him to start swaying, trying not to laugh at the confused and disgruntled look on his face. “God you are the stiffest man alive.”

He tried to relax, but now he felt even more on-edge than before. Something about the warmth of your palms soaking through his shirt, noticeable even with how heavy the air already was with the bodies packed onto the dancefloor.

“Liked it better when I was getting shot at,” he finally said.

You laughed, shaking your head before stepping in close enough for your forehead to drop against him, resting just below his shoulder for a moment as you laughed. Peeling yourself away, you left your hands on his sides as you said, “Maybe we should’ve gotten you a third shot.”

“You’re enjoyin’ this way too much.”

“Watching you squirm?” you asked. When he nodded, you could only nod right back. “Just a little, yea.”

It took longer than it should’ve for him to ease into it. And even when he did, he was still awkward, still stiff. Which really as about what you’d expected. You couldn’t deny that it was funny watching Rick Flag trying to force himself to loosen up and have a good time. It’d apparently been too long since he’d really tried to do anything of the sort.

You kept yourself pinned close to him. You knew that he wouldn’t on his own, so you took the initiative and placed his hands on your waist, letting yours come to rest on his shoulders in return. It was amusing to you to see how hesitant he was about it. The same man who had dragged you when you were bloodied and beaten, the same man who you had to cram into the world’s smallest, most uncomfortable spaces with to keep yourselves alive, was suddenly skittish when your closeness had background music to go with it.

Rick was only on the hook for one dance. That was the bet. Mostly because no one thought that he would actually get out there and follow through on it. You couldn’t say that you blamed them, but Rick had never been the kind to back down from a challenge or an order. Or a bet, apparently.

When the song changed, one flowing easily into the next, you thought that he was immediately going to turn tail and run. You’d understand it—you could still feel the slightly anxious and awkward energy coming off of him. Something completely foreign given the source, the same person who didn’t flinch running into a firefight beside you. But despite the small, lingering traces of discomfort, he stayed. Because even though his muscles were still a bit tense, even though he still hadn’t quite figured out what he was like to have a sense of rhythm, he liked the way it felt to have his hands on the small of your back. He liked the way the tips of your fingers reached just past where the collar of his t-shirt stopped.

He hadn’t even felt those thoughts creeping up on him until it was too late. It felt like one second he was looking around to make sure the two of you hadn’t lost anyone, and the next second he was looking back to you and the wind got sucked clean out of his lungs. And you were so unbothered, so unaware. He hoped that it would stay that way.

Not that you’d been very far away from him to begin with, but suddenly you felt so much closer. He could feel the press of your entire body against his, the way that your legs somehow ended up slotted together. His hips were pinned to yours, his arms wrapped tight enough around you so that he was almost completely on-beat with you. At that point, though, he didn’t even care about the rest of it. The racing thoughts in his head were outrun only by the rapid beat of his heart. For the first time all night there was only one thing pulling his focus, and it was you as you stared back at him. You looked just about ready to completely melt into him and his entire mind blanked out one that thought entered his head.

You saw the shift in his eyes, but it was a look that you weren’t familiar with, one that you couldn’t place. Your hand that had been resting in the space where his neck met his shoulder slid up, palm on the side of his throat, fingertips grazing along his jaw. You tilted your head slightly, eyebrows raising to ask the question that you didn’t want to yell loudly in the midst of the club. His response was an equally wordless smile and small nod. You felt your breath get caught in your throat as you looked at him. It was impossible not to feel the way that the two of you were each leaning in closer to the other.

If it hadn’t been so loud on the dancefloor, you were sure that Rick would’ve been able to hear the pounding of your heart inside your chest. In all of the years that the two of you had known each other, all the late nights, long talks, and close quarters, this was the first time that you felt like things were about to cross a line into territory that you wouldn’t be able to backpedal from. You were shocked at how much you didn’t mind the thought of it.

He was close enough to you that you could feel his breath against your skin. Your heart was about to burst clean out of your chest and your lips were just about to touch his. You almost couldn’t believe that it was about to happen.

And then, before it could, you heard the tell-tale sounds of a fight breaking out on the other side of the bar. You didn’t even have to turn around and look to know that it was your team. Some of the most lethal metahumans in the world finally got to have a night out and they just couldn’t fucking handle it.

Rick’s attention snapped over to the noise immediately, the dazed look on his face was quickly replaced with annoyance. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he practically groaned. His arms dropped back to his sides, hands leaving he small of your back leaving an emptiness that neither of you liked or wanted to think too deeply on.

You turned and followed his stride, both of you weaving through the tightly paced groups of people the best that you could. You had no idea what someone said to Peacemaker to get him to swing, but you really didn’t care at that point either. It was bad enough when one team member went rogue, it was worse when it turned into one of the few moments that everyone decided to be on the same side about something and everyone else got involved. You expected this kind of stuff from Peacemaker, but seeing Harley about to smash a beer bottle over someone’s head definitely made you a little extra concerned.

“Alright! Alright!” Rick wasn’t even attempting to hide his annoyance as he started pulling people apart. “Overstayin’ our welcome. Let’s get outta here.”

You caught out of the corner of your eye that DuBois was about to grab his gun and you quickly put your hand on his arm to stop him. He looked at you, peeved at the entire thing. You shook your head. “Not in here.”

He shook his head but he still followed your lead. He wasn’t that dedicated to picking a fight. Once you had him agreeing with you, it became much easier to round everyone up and get them out of the bar. Rick was practically dragging people by their collars but it worked nonetheless. You all had about seven hours before you would get in the chopper and brought back home. With the way things had unfolded so far, some of you might at least be able to use a couple of those to sleep.

Everyone’s rooms were all grouped together. It was a crappy little motel off the beaten path, but it was better than nothing. You were surprised that Waller got you all set up with anything at all, honestly. You’d take what you could get. You and Rick opted to share a room, the foot separating your two queen beds seemed odd now in a way that it never would have before.

“Everyone all locked up in their rooms?” you asked, half-joking, half-serious when Rick came into your room.

He chuckled, nodding. “Yea. All of ‘em are in time-out till we get back to Belle Reve.”

“Yea,” you rolled your eyes as you plopped down and sat on the edge of your bed, “because it’s not like prison is a time-out for them or anything.” You paused, watching as Rick flopped onto the bed that you weren’t sitting on, dragging his hands down his face. “They tell you what happened?”

“No,” he mumbled through his fingers, “but I didn’t fuckin’ ask, either.”

You laughed. “Didn’t wanna know the drama?”

His reply came with no hesitation. “Nope.”

You were shaking your head, helpless to do anything besides stare over at him. You waited, wondering if he was going to say anything about what had happened at the bar with the two of you. With the chaos dealt with and everyone safely stowed away in their rooms, you figured that this was going to be the closest thing that the two of you got to privacy for a while.

There must’ve been a graceful way to bring it up, a way that wouldn’t be awkward or jarring. You just didn’t know what it was. You kept your mouth shut, twisting your fingers into the blanket that rested on top of your bed.

Rick’s eyes were still closed, he was still laying on his bed with his legs dangling off the very end of it because he hadn’t scooted up enough before collapsing onto it. Even with all of that, he still felt you staring at him.

“What?” he asked, not turning to look at you as he did.

You shook his head like he could see you, because it felt like he could. Clearing your throat, you forced out, “Nothing.”

The end of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “Liar.”

It eased some of the tension you were feeling, the laughter that came out of you making you feel a little better about it all. “Shut up.”

Opening his eyes, he turned and looked over at you. “What is it?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, really. Just,” you sighed, “wild night.”

“I mean,” he chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows, “thinkin’ about everything else we’ve been through? Really not…you know…”

You let out a soft laugh, one that was quieter than you wanted it to be. “That’s true.”

“Look—”

“About the bar—”

You both started talking at the same time, both of you stopping when you heard the other. There were a few seconds of awkward silence before you both started laughing. You nodded for him to continue, beating him to the punch.

“Look,” he started again with a laugh, “I was just gonna say…” he trailed off, “I don’t really know what I was gonna fuckin’ say,” he admitted with a laugh.

“I think,” you said, a joking lilt already in your tone, “that considering you’ve never attempted to have any rhythm in your life, you really didn’t do that bad.”

He laughed, shaking his head at you. “Shut up.”

“I mean there’s room for improvement, for sure,” you nettled him just to get another laugh out of him, “but I thought it was going to go much worse.”

“Wow,” he sat up the rest of the way, hands braced on the edge of the bed so he was nearly mirroring the position that you were in, “thanks for the endorsement.”

“It’s an honest one, at least.”

He shook his head but he was still smiling. “Always is with you.”

You figured while you were in the vein of being honest, you might as well go for broke. “I also thought you were gonna kiss me,” the words tumbled out, rushed but clear enough. You chuckled nervously. “You know, before Peacemaker banged some guy’s face off the table.”

Rick’s eyes were still widened from the first part of your statement. He knew that it was his turn to say something, but he couldn’t find the right words. “I thought I was too.”

Warmth spread across your chest at his words, a smile instantly breaking out across your face. Your nerves didn’t dissipate completely, but there was a sense of security in it all that you hadn’t felt before. He could see it, too, the way that your body eased. He was up on his feet again before he could think to stop himself. It only took a couple strides for him to wind up next to you, the mattress sinking slightly beneath his weight as he sat down. He was close enough for the outside of your thigh to be pressed up against his.

“Rick—”

You didn’t get the rest of your sentence out as he leaned in and brought his lips to yours. Nothing you could’ve said would have had any shot in hell at being better than the feeling of him kissing you. You could still taste the faintest hint of liquor off of him from the bar, could feel his stubble beneath the pads of your fingers as they pressed against his jaw. He grabbed onto your waist, his grip firm, like he was determined not to let you or this moment slip away from him a second time.

When the two of you finally came back up for air, you didn’t pull away very far. His forehead was still pressed against yours, chests flush as he continued to hold onto your hip. You smiled, thumb grazing over his cheek as you tried to soak in the moment for all that it was worth.

“You’re better at kissing than you are at dancing, you know,” you finally said, whispering without quite meaning to, like what the two of you were sharing was a secret just for the both of you to know about.

He laughed quietly. “Thank god for that, huh?”

You smiled wider, shaking your head before pulling his lips back to yours. “C’mere.”

#the suicide squad #suicide squad #suicide squad fanfic #the suicide squad fanfic #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #x reader #x reader fic #navy and roos sleepover #navy and roo's sleepover #slumber party bingo #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[babblydrabbly]

Flufftober Day 31 | Rick Flag x Reader

a/n - "And with that the 2022 season comes to an end" ♡

Alright kiddos, I gave @flufftober a shot! This one will be my last fic this year. Have my favorite fluffy trope: idiots in love.

prompt - a sweet treat

fluff - 1000 words - warnings: argus!agent reader. gn!reader. mutual pining. food mention. pre-the suicide squad 2021. admittedly the author's size kink might be showing in this one a little bit what who said that

It’s been an entire season of missed chances, and Rick Flag is officially sick of it. 

Between his time away on missions and your time away from base, it’s as if the universe is trying to keep him away but not this time.

When he hears word that you’re coming in today, he doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t want to risk a prison-wide lockdown or an emergency leave getting in the way. 

Today’s the last week of the year— the last week you bake anything for the office— and Rick will be damned if you close up shop before he gets the chance to try something, anything you’ve made for all those morons who don’t even like you as much as he does.

He’s sick of hearing Harcourt and Economos' damn bragging.

Your cookies, your cupcakes, your oh-so-amazing fruit tarts with, quote: “The sweetest berries we’ve ever tried”. 

Harcourt. Rick impatiently hits the open button to the elevator several times before it even stops. Harcourt doesn’t even like sweets. Somewhere in his gut Rick knows she’s just doing it to irk him. Knows that you’re his favorite comms operative and more.

The doors open with a soft chime as Rick steps out into the hallway. 

He pauses before knocking. The smell of cinnamon and other spices he can’t name waft through the door of your small, Belle Reve issued living quarters— and suddenly Rick fucking Flag is nervous.

Did he really just leave Harcourt mid-sentence and march all the way across the facility to come see you? 

Rick swallows thickly and blinks like he’s just realized where he is.

Quickly running his fingers through his sandy hair, Rick clears his throat and knocks before he steps away from the door. 

You ask your unexpected guest to wait a minute before yanking it open. Rick’s eyes widen as much as yours do.

“Oh! Colonel,” You greet with just about as much confusion.

He’s seen you in plenty of different gear, but never an apron and a pair of mittens. You step aside and let Rick into your small space— Nothing much more than a kitchen and a double bed just beyond that. 

He opens his mouth to speak when that smell of something absolutely divine hits him even harder than before. 

“Something wrong, Flag?”

“No, I—” The colonel takes a large step inside and pauses. You’ve never seen the grown man look so sheepish. “I heard you were bringing something in today and I… well, it’s forward. But I figured, I always miss out. Thought I’d catch you before Waller drags me away.”

The tension in Rick’s shoulders eases as your face lights up. You offer him a small laugh before turning to open the oven. 

“Well, you’re just in time.” You say. Rick watches you take a large tray of something out and follows you over to the counter where a towel is waiting. 

You set the tray down atop it and Rick gets a good look at some of the biggest cinnamon rolls he’s ever seen.

“You made all that ‘n this little kitchen?” 

You shrug shyly. That small smile plays on your lips— the one Rick can't help but stare at. “Had to go into town for some things, but yeah.” 

Rick lets you guide his large frame over to the stool which serves as the only sitting place in the entire room. He looks a little funny there— about three times too big for such a small seat. His knee even bends with how long his legs easily reach the ground. 

You make quick work of scooping one of the center rolls onto a plate, but it’s the next part that has Rick locked on you with wide hazel eyes again. 

Dolloping a large spoonful of cream cheese frosting on top of the roll with precision, you smooth it out with the back until it looks like something out of a cookbook. And then you do it— You swipe a lick of the spoon, just a bit. Your pink tongue darts over your bottom lip to catch a bit of frosting and Rick Flag’s pulse skyrockets like it hasn’t in a long damn time. 

You startle when Rick says your name a little too loud. 

“Sorry,” He shifts in his seat. Trying again in a calmer tone, he searches for the words carefully. “I might’ve also come up here to, uh, ask you something, now that I think about it.”

You arch a brow. 

An unfamiliar wave of hesitation washes over the man. Busying himself with the plate in front of him, he cuts off a piece of the roll with his fork and shoves it into his mouth.

“I was hopin’— Well, I was wonderin’— Christ, this is good.” He chokes out gruffly behind his fist.

Quietly, you place the spoon in your hand into the sink and take your time as Rick chews. When he’s finally through his first bite, you place your elbows on the counter and lean in so close Rick has to inch back. It’s a funny image. Like a fawn spooking a big bear.

“Richard, I’ve made something every week for the past three months in the hopes that at least my baking would catch your attention. And every week, something gets in the way. So I really, really hope your question is ‘Will you go out to dinner with me,’ or else I may just have to tie you up and make dinner for you right here instead.”

He blinks at you wordlessly several times. An eon seems to pass as your little bit of bravado fades. Did you really just hit on your superior? On Colonel Flag? You really just went and did it now, didn't you?

You shrink when he finally leans in to meet you, but where you expect more of that stunned look, you find a spark of heat instead.

“Alright...How about I do you one better and make something for you, huh? How about tonight?” 

You arch a brow at him, shocked. “You cook?”

“I grill.” He clarifies with a lopsided smile. “Don’t tell no one, but some of the other boys keep one over by the hangar. For when we get sick’a the mess hall food.”

With that hint of sugar and spice still on his tongue and the look in your eyes as he stands back up to his full height, Rick lets the doubt from earlier roll off him. 

‘I’ve made something every week for the past three months…’ For him. 

Rick reaches up to grasp your chin between his calloused fingers gently.

“Let me do all the cookin’ for you this time, darling,” A smirk forms when he notices the flush creep up your face. “And if you feel like it, y'can still tie me up after if you want to.”

#flufftober #day 31 #rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #suicide squad #dceu #mywords*

[lacontroller1991]

Branded (Rick Flag x GN!Reader)

Main Master List || DC Master List

Requested by @witchygagirl - If you're still doing them can I request

You have a tattoo where your soulmate first touches you for Rick Flag

from this prompt list

Warnings: Heavy gun usage, gun fire, battle, blood, language, battle wounds

===========

The gunfire rings out around you as sand flies everywhere. If it wasn’t for the light of the continuous gunfire, you definitely wouldn’t be able to see. You shouldn’t even be here. You should be back in Spain, sipping on your sangria on the beach with men waiting for your beck and call. Instead, you’re in the middle of a gunfight on a random ass beach in South America, all because you killed a few people. Ok. Maybe a lot of people. Thus began your time in Belle Reve. 

When Waller had initially come to you with the proposition, you had shunned her away, openly mocking her for ever assuming that you would join her little Task Force. With the more days that passed and the more people you saw leaving, you soon changed your mind, leading you to now. Hands wrapped tightly around your gun as you hide behind a rock, trying to cancel out the screams of your comrades. 

Now you know why it’s called the Suicide Squad.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Your commander yells at you, crashing beside you and catching his breath. “We need your help out there!” 

You look over to him, eyes wide in panic as your lips slightly tremble. “I can’t. My power can’t activate under stress.” 

“You’ve got to be fucking me.” Rick groans from beside you, reloading his gun as he shakes his head in disbelief. When he looks back at you, terrified, he realizes that you’re not joking. “Look at me. Look at me!” He grabs your face with his dirty hands and turns you to him. “This is life and death. Either you fight or you die and I don’t intend on letting any more of my people die. Understand?” You nod your head as he nods his head. “Ok good, on my mark, we’re going to make a run for some better cover. Ready?” He asks, getting into a crouching position as you follow suit, gripping onto your gun like your life depends on it. “Go!” You and him run through the gunfire, firing your own weapons back as you watch men fall to the ground. You feel a rush of pride but it’s short lived when you feel a searing hot pain rip through your leg, causing you to fall to the ground. You try to stand up, but fall short, your leg burning in pain causing you to let out a sharp cry of pain as you look down, the sand underneath your leg getting darker and darker. Just like your vision.

Hearing your cry of pain, Rick’s head whips back until he spots you lying on the sand, clutching your leg. He’s already clear of the gunfire and he could proceed with his mission, but there’s something about you that is preventing him from going forward. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself before fixing his gun and running back into the line of fire, making quick work to grab your ankle and drag you towards the bushes. “I hope I’m right about this.”

—-------

You wake up to birds chirping at people talking though you don’t know where you are. You remember being shot, and then dragged through the woods by Rick, but besides that, you have no clue what’s going on. Moving to sit up, a warm hand places itself on your shoulder, not letting your rise any higher than that. “Woah there, just relax, you’re safe.” You turn your head to the voice and see your commander sitting there with a soft smile on his face.

“Colonel Flag? What’s going on? Where are we?” He removes his hand from your shoulder and places it in his lap, but something is off about it. Did he always have that tattoo on his hand?

“We’re safe, that’s all that matters. We’re waiting for an evac off this hell hole,” he murmurs, looking around the makeshift tent as you nod, turning to look into the mirror on the desk across from you, confusion all over your face. 

“What the hell is on my face?” You try to inspect it a little closer, but again, Rick’s hand pushes you back down, a blush on his face. 

“Well, uh, you know how some people get tattoos where their soulmate touches them for the first time,” he comments as you nod your head. Of course you do. Everyone in the world knows that. And only some are lucky enough to have that. “I think we’re soulmates.” 

“I must have a concussion because this can’t be real,” you comment, but he shakes his head, grabbing the mirror and holding up to your face, placing his hand next to the mirror. In the mirror you can see the exact same symbol on your face that’s on his hand. 

“Concussion or not, it’s real.” He comments as the sound of a helicopter echoes in the distance, causing his head to look outside. “That sounds like our ride. We’ll discuss this later, ok?” You nod your head in confirmation as he gives you an awkward pat on the back, not really sure where to go, but at least you guys will have each other.

===========

General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @fairchildflag @a-reader-and-a-writer

Joel Related Tag List: @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachelh1992 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @knivesareout @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @katjnordstrom96 @tavners @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @madkovacs @wxr-zxne @wtfobiwan @alieninoklahoma @violetmuses @neon-supernova

#rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #Joel kinnaman #rick flag #colonel rick flag x reader #colonel rick flag x you #colonel rick flag #colonel flag x reader #colonel flag x you #colonel flag #the suicide squad #tss #dceu tss #reader insert

[foli-vora]

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

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!

#foliskink22 #rick flag x reader #rick flag x f!reader #rick flag x you #rick flag imagine #rick flag #dc fanfic

[your-averagewriter]

“Fuck off America’s sweetheart.”

Summary: After trekking through the rainforest the Suicide Squad stumble upon a camp and after a brief massacre they discover Rick Flag, uninjured and not captured.

Word count: 1.0K

Warnings: Violence, swearing, blood, gore, Suicide Squad violence and warnings

-

-

After a day of walking through a rainforest, moisture attaching itself to my skin I try to shrug off the feeling of dirtiness. We reach a makeshift camp and are instantly told to execute anyone and everyone within.

A brutal but sadly common order in the Suicide Squad. DuBois and Peacemaker have an obvious rivalry not leaving many to the rest of us but I’m not complaining. I’ve never been someone to enjoy killing, only when ordered to or when it’s necessary, that’s not to say I’m bad at it, don’t misunderstand.

I approach the camp, following behind the two in competition, not something I wanna get involved with. Slowly, I pull out a few bullets from my bag, toss one in the air, catch it then throw it, propelling it straight into a man’s head. Sunlight shines through from the other side, illuminating the cascading blood from the wound. I repeat the process with a second bullet, lodging it in someone’s skull before moving on through the camp.

Watching the two ‘vigilantes’ act like children is entertaining for a few minutes but gets old quickly as they fight over the last victim. Quickly, I pull out two bullets from my bag and propel them at the same time towards the last man standing. Falling over, you can see the two holes the bullets paved through his eyes, perfect shot, I think allowing a small smile at the precision and accuracy.

Both of them turn to me, glaring ever so slightly annoyed that I took away their tie breaker but we have a mission to do and competition with each other will only get each other killed.

“Damn it.” I hear both of them say, frustrated, watching as the man falls, flat on the ground, the remains of his eyes splattered nearby.

Staying silent, I follow closely behind the leader and another who has also deemed himself a leader (Peacemaker). His ego seems to have no bounds, from his pretentious name to stupid hat.

Heading towards a tent, DuBois pulls open the entrance to reveal a short woman in some sort of uniform and a patched up Rick Flag. They turn to us in confusion which is mimicked by our faces.

“(y/n)?” He asks and I furrow my brows looking at him, sitting laughing in a tent whilst we were out fighting and trying to protect the island.

I step back, out of the tent slowly as too many emotions flood my system making me not be able to think straight. I just need to get out of here.

I don’t walk far and I don’t know what to do so I walk through the camp following the trails of my murders tracing my bullets. They’re not really that special but I don’t know what to do right now.

Feeling a tear carve a path down my face, my hand flies up immediately to swipe it away and I refuse to cry or to let anyone see me cry. I grab at the bullets, forcing my fingernails into my palms almost drawing blood but the pain stops the tears from falling. Reversed logic but when did emotions ever make sense. Stuffing the bullets back into my bag I walk over to a fallen tree where I perch my head in my hands, not crying, not angry, just overwhelmed. Although, an overwhelmed assassin can be a dangerous thing.

This whole experience only lasts seconds in reality but it feels like it’s going on forever.

Waller convinced me to go on this mission stating that Rick had been captured, that he was being used by the enemy, she didn’t outright say he was being tortured but it was heavily implied.But here he is laughing in a tent with some random people, certainly not looking captured.

I know it’s not his fault that he's unharmed, not captured by the enemy, I’m not mad at him, it’s Waller as usual - manipulating me using my emotions and using the one person I care about to force me on this mission.

Rick emerges from the tent a few moments afterwards, likely done with a short debrief for DuBois and the others. He scans the forest, tracing the treeline, looking for me and eventually he clocks me sitting on the tree.

“(y/n)-” I interrupt.

“Why are you here? I don’t understand.” I say, my hands threaded in my hair.

“Trust me, I’m about to ask you the same thing.”

“Waller called me in, she told me you had been captured and were probably being tortured. That’s why I’m here. Why aren’t you being tortured?” He chuckles quietly. “I know that sounds weird.” I say, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Waller lied to you.” I sigh. What I thought has now been confirmed.

“I can’t believe she would do that… Well, I can.” I frown.

“I’m so sorry.” He says, wrapping his arm around my waist, resting his head on top of mine. “I don’t want you to be here because of me.”

“It’s not your fault. We’ve just gotta make sure we both get out of it now so we can deal with Waller later on.”

“Yeah. Then you can show Waller what you’re made of.” 

“She won’t know what hit her.” I manage a small smile. There’s a comfortable silence that falls over us before I stand up holding onto his hand, cherishing the warmth he provides me with. “We should get back to the others…” I say.

He agrees quietly, following after me. We walk back over to the tent where the others are standing and talking with the people in uniform.

“DuBois?” I say and he turns around upon hearing his name. “Did you know?” I ask.

“Know what?”

“That Flag wasn’t captured, wasn’t tortured.”

“I didn’t know Flag was here.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Peacemaker asks. “Why is he so important?”

“Fuck off America’s sweetheart.” I say, the anger of Waller lying being emphasised by Peacemaker’s idiocy. I feel Rick squeeze my hand, an attempt to calm me. I don’t have anger issues but there are some specific things that rile me up.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Robert stands in the middle of us putting his hands up, preventing escalation. “He’s just a dick.” DuBois says quietly.

“Hey, I can hear you!” Peacemaker shouts.

“Fuck off!” I yell back.

-

AN: I hope you enjoyed reading!

I'm so boring with my title recently, I've just been putting quotes from the fics, I'm sorry haha.

I thought you'd want to be tagged @mandy-eminem-moxley77 (I have a much better Rick Flag fic that I'm gonna post tomorrow or the day after that's 'spicy' so...)

#the suicide squad #rick flag #suicide squad #dc #the suicide squad x reader #the suicide squad x you #the suicide squad x y/n #the suicide squad x yn #rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #rick flag x y/n #rick flag x yn #x you #x y/n #x yn #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #the suicide squad fanfiction #the suicide squad fanfic #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #dc x reader #dc x you #dc x y/n #dc x yn #dc fanfiction #dc fanfic #robert dubois #peacemaker