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reveluving · 2 years

Text

lovememore ; rick flag x reader

summary: The thought of living a life outside Belle Reve seems so far but that’s alright. Rick already feels at home when you’re around.

warnings: fluff (good ol' mutual pining), mentions of violence & near-death experience

a/n: one of my earliest Rick fic ideas! will there be a sequel? whooo knows (spoiler: y'all know damn well I'll make one) aaand don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» j.k m.list , or check out my full m.list!

Sticky, humid and deafening — those were the words one could describe the club, but a welcoming turn of events for a change. Even if the Thinker could be coming in anytime soon, there shouldn’t be any harm in enjoying the moment, right? Pretend there wasn’t a bomb in their heads, for once. Seems like everyone had the same idea, with Cleo and Abner having fun on the dance floor. Chris, too, and his questionable moves.

But you never left his sight, silently appreciating the short slip dress and leather jacket that adorned your figure. Kudos to whoever previously owned the clothes, only for the style to be perfectly adorned by you. The colours matched your personality too.

Soft pink for your sweetness and black for your dark side but overall, it’s just sexy.

"What's it gonna take for you to grow a pair and tell her?" His daydreaming was put to a halt at the sound of DuBois' chuckle.

“What’s there to tell her?” He quirked his eyebrow, sipping from the amber bottle to act nonchalant — as if he wasn’t gawking at you a while ago. He knew he wasn’t subtle with his feelings but at the very least, he hoped none of the members would call him out, not especially Dubois and worst of all, in front of you.

Almost.

“Play dumb all you want, Flag,” DuBois tsked, “But stall any longer and regret is all you’re gonna get,”

Rick bit his tongue — defending himself would mean an instant win for DuBois but so does keeping quiet.

“There no reason for me to stall when I don’t have anythin’ to say in the first place,” Stubborn as ever, he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting defeat. No matter how many things he wished he could tell you, considering the ride-or-die situation they were in, he held himself down. One could call it an ego, but others would argue it as his way of keeping you safe.

At least, that’s what he thought.

“Really?” DuBois huffed in amusement, pointing in your direction with the bottle in hand, “So, you don’t mind if that gentleman over there makes his move on her?”

Rick’s head whipped around faster than he cared to admit but chose to ignore the snort next to him. He didn’t bother telling DuBois to shut it when his eyes were too busy burning a hole in the back of the newcomer’s skull — buzzed and unkempt, but it was his audacity that made Rick fume. How dare he invaded your personal space; was the schmuck not getting the idea that you’re not interested?

You were having fun with Cleo minutes ago. No doubt you were dealing with the current situation just fine but Rick has been around you long enough to notice your fake laugh and the ‘I really wish I weren’t here right now’ look. In the moron’s defence, you hid your facial expressions pretty well. Though, you were probably seconds away from breaking your bottle to be used as a weapon.

“Clock’s ticking,” DuBois reminded him like an entity watching, or laughing at him, but be that as it may, the gunner had true intentions. Rick was one of, if not the only staff in the facility that treated him like a human being, and of course, the only friend before everything went down. You, on the other hand, were one of the inmates he truly could get along with, partially because of your charisma but also your level-headedness. He didn’t have anything against the rest of the squad but you kept the group grounded.

Sane, for a lack of a better word, especially during Rick’s absence.

So Rick took his advice and grew a pair before making his way to you.

Whether or not he realized he puffed up his chest and hardened his face was uncertain but that didn’t matter. What did matter, however, was the colours drained from the poor lad’s face, prompting to you turn around and break out into a dazzling smile. A genuine one, he proudly noted.

“Rick!”

“Darlin’,“ That name alone sent shivers down your spine. That had to be the alcohol talking, right?

Wait, was he wrapping his arms around you?

“Was lookin’ everywhere for you,” He dropped the nice-guy act when he ‘only noticed’ the man before him, “You pickin’ on my girl?”

My girl…

You don’t even know how your knees haven’t buckled yet.

Funny — the guy, you didn’t bother remembering his name, was all bark just seconds ago. Now, he had his tail in between his legs. Understandable, Rick’s a tall man after all, and that’s the best part.

“N-no, of course not! I was just...” Whatever he mumbled after was totally incomprehensible.

“You were just?” Rick’s impatient glare sent him running elsewhere, becoming the laughing stock of the night by those who couldn’t help but eavesdrop earlier. You weren’t his first victim, after all. Once out of sight, Rick moved his hands away from you, much to yours and his disappointment, “He didn't touch you, did he?"

How could you not melt at that?

"Believe me, if he did, I would've caused a scene a long time ago," You shuddered at the thought, "Though, hearing him talk on and on about how he is in bed was probably just as bad. How'd you know I was in a dire situation?"

“No offence but you're shit at hiding your expressions," There was his mistake.

"You... were watching me?"

Whoops.

Well, no shit. When your jacket's half-worn like that, why wouldn't his gaze linger on your skin? Respectfully, of course.

Whatever that means.

"Keen eye," His nonchalant answer did nothing to ease your mind, "No one else here's wearin’ a nightdress to the party so consider yourself lucky,"

Oh, believe me, I am.

You didn't expect his eyes to snap back at you — how in the world could you have blurted that out? Or were you hoping to do that?

“Really?” There was no way you could take it back now.

“Really.” You repeated, tilting your head cutely, “Why wouldn’t I feel honoured of you saving the day, colonel?”

Had your liquid courage been stronger, you would've openly stared at his well-defined muscles. Thankfully, you were able to control yourself.

Barely.

That shirt of his was fighting for its dear life, truly.

“Or is it ‘sheriff’ tonight?” You pursed your lips, “Buuut to be honest, that title doesn’t suit you — that shirt right there is a crime to begin with,”

“I could say the same for you, lil’ lady,” His arm flexed when he placed a hand on the bar counter behind you, “That dress of yours could get you in a whole lotta trouble,”

“Oh? Says who?” His face hovered over yours, the spark in between was so powerful, none of you noticed DuBois silently threatening the Thinker across the room.

“Sheriff, remember?”, He tipped his hat, “Whatever I say goes,”

Ooh, and you were tempted to push his buttons even further — to know what sort of ‘trouble’ he was referring to.

But the highlight of your day had to end somewhere, starting with a scream followed by the local armed forces cocking their guns.

You didn’t mean to stand nearer to Rick, and he didn’t mean to keep you close by your shoulder, but none of you said a word about it — it wasn’t the right time either.

Bigger fish to fry, sadly.

The suspense only grew when the forces demanded everyone for their identification cards. You caught a glimpse of Chris, standing at Rick’s other side, taking out his pocket knife. His action forced you to tip-toe over his shoulder in order to verbally stop him.

“Chris!” The two of you had a staredown, with you winning the silent argument when Rick joined in. Out of habit, your eyes darted to Abner’s and Cleo’s, who watched you and the rest worriedly. You cocked your head to the back door, the stiffness of your movement and the stern ‘get out of here’ look were enough to get them on their feet, taking the Thinker with them.

“Calm down!” DuBois guffawed in a feigned drunkenly state, “There’s no need to disturb everyone’s night. I’m right here, I’m the one you’re looking for!” Bless that man’s soul.

“You ready?” You shivered at Rick’s voice. Who knew it could get even deeper?

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Your shoulders sagged — just when you thought you had a chance. Sighing in exasperation, you raised your hands the same time Rick did, where he announced that the three of you were also the Americans they were looking for, much to Chris’ dismay.

“What?” He hissed, earning himself scolding stares from both of you yet again.

“Play along,” You gritted through your teeth, just seconds before being cuffed and forced onto your knees.

Rick could’ve made his move without the interruptions of the local military but hey, a job’s a job.

It’s no secret that Rick’s a stubborn man and he’s well aware of it. That’s why he was confidently recruited as a leader — he knows what he wants and would do whatever’s necessary. It didn’t matter if it was Waller’s orders or his own judgement. But, again, a stubborn man. Sometimes, he won’t act on it, not until the last minute.

But, if there’s ever a time where he’ll admit his faults, especially when one’s pointed it out before, it’s now — beaten, bruised and profusely bleeding, though, he didn’t miss the way Chris’ eyes flashed a different kind of emotion — guilt.

He didn’t want to do this, he had to, and while Rick had every right to antagonize him to the max, betraying not only him but also the entire team who gave him the benefit of the doubt, he didn’t. Instead, he accepted the predicament he was in, the glass shard penetrated into his skin and likely an artery or two, he rolled onto his back, Chris’ silhouette looming over him.

But, in came his saviour.

You.

Barging in and all hell broke loose.

The way you ran up to Chris, wielding a chainsaw that he was sure wasn't yours, dishevelled and downright furious when you noticed the glass pierced into Rick's chest. That was a sight to behold, to him, at least.

To Chris, it probably seemed like a horror movie — like when the antagonist of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre caught sight of their target.

You managed to damage Chris a couple of times but most importantly, you successfully scared him off, no longer caring about the drive he’s now possessed. You threw the weapon elsewhere and kneeled right next to Rick, unbothered by the rubble that dug into your knees.

"Hey, hey," You took hold of his hand, hoping you weren't too late, "Rick, I'm here," He coughed.

"You c-came," His lips quirked, clutching onto your soft hand in his.

"Of course I did," You answered incredulously — did he think otherwise? You didn't want to know, "Something felt off, I-I had to look for you but then I couldn't find you and I just-"

"H-hey..." He croaked, stopping you from your rambling.

"H-hm?" You blinked away the tears that clouded your vision. His grip tightened, not enough to hurt you but you figured he was telling you to come closer. Thus, you leaned in closer, your side profile hovering over his face. You wanted to ask him again when he strained himself to sit up. Your panicked state didn’t last long, however, when his chapped lips brushed your cheek. You froze up, uncertain if this was a mind game until he pulled your hand again, forcing you to look at him.

His eyes are so beautiful. He’s so beautiful.

What better way to close the gap between the two of you than with a kiss?

The intimacy only bloomed when your fingers intertwined with his, your other hand cradled his face. He’d do anything to wipe away your tears, not because it’s getting in the way, but because he didn’t like to see you this distressed; especially when it’s because of him. There were so many things to address, questions to be answered and things to change, for the better, of course.

But your hopes for a better future went down the drain when his hold began to loosen up. His weakened state forced you to pull away,

“Rick?” No response, just his breathing — too slow to your liking, though, to the point that all you could do is scream out the first two names that came to your mind.

DuBois & Cleo.

Who knew they'd barge in moments after, saving not only Rick but you in the nick of time. Though DuBois wanted to beat Chris to a pulp, he couldn't ignore the way you screamed bloody murder. Truly, a sound that would've haunted him for days if he didn't act fast.

They didn't even question you on the hand-holding — like them, you've been through hell and back, and Rick was at the brink of dying.

Something they were all too familiar with. They’ve had enough 'excitement' for one day. Or weeks. Hell, make it months.

All DuBois could do was carry his friend while Cleo placed one of your arms around her shoulders for support. You weren't injured, not badly, at least, but she could tell how mentally drained you were. She and DuBois may not have the same type of relationship with Rick as you do, but knowing you cared for him was enough for them to know.

The events that went down soon after moving in a blur as if your body was moving on autopilot.

DuBois had placed Rick down somewhere, against a building wall before turning you with an unreadable expression, at first. Then, you looked into his eyes, like, really looked into it and understood.

Take care of him.

So, that's what you did, but not without a mild argument in between.

"NO!" DuBois shot his hand out, the others already chasing after the colossal being, "You stay right here, and that's that!"

You would've yelled back out of spite but he was right. You weren't losing Rick — you couldn't. Someone has to watch over him while they deal with the chaos.

So, you zipped your lips and gave a tense nod.

Then, came the moment of truth.

Waller's god-awful screaming, the dramatic showdown and soon, Starro's fall.

Oh, and rats. Loads of them.

You didn’t think twice about wrapping your arms around Rick's near-lifeless figure when thousands, if not, millions of rodents appeared out of nowhere. You weren't sure if you did so to protect him or comfort yourself through all this, but you could've sworn you felt his fingers lightly digging into your sides.

All he could register in his mind was you. Understandable, considering the temperature difference from the uncontrollable blood loss he's experiencing.

There was no certainty about his well-being after this. It's not his ideal way to go, obviously — where was the homey atmosphere you've told him about?

Well, maybe it didn't matter anymore. If this was the only way he could savour what could possibly be his final moment, at long last, with you, in his embrace, so be it.

Your voice soothed him like no other, tuning out the catastrophe that was happening just a short distance away.

You weren't aware of the time that passed until you felt a tap on your shoulder, only to find Harley before you. They were a little worse for wear but you're just thankful to see them alive.

"Harley..." You choked out and accepted her bear hug as soon as she kneeled right in front of you. Seeing Rick unresponsive was one thing but watching you so grief-stricken was a little too much. Harley ruffled your hair, unfazed by the tears that dripped down to her shoulder.

"There, there, everything'll be alright," She shushed you ever-so-softly. She couldn't lose him too, hell, she'd probably go on a rampage if she lost both of you. Not when you've found the true meaning of happiness — a future that involves each other. She pulled you off and held you by the shoulders, "We're off the hook, y’know? We're free!"

"W-we are?" Free — such a foreign term, even if you were the one who brought it up not too long ago.

"Mhm! Looky there," She pointed to DuBois' direction, talking on the earpiece, "Milton blackmailed the shit outta that mean lady! Now we’re free as birds!"

You ignored her mistake of calling him 'Milton' in favour of the newfound information. The revelation should've been easy to comprehend, it's what you wanted, wasn't it? Still, Harley noticed the way you turned your head back to check on Rick.

"Helps on the way," She rubbed your back, "He'll be a-okay,"

You didn’t even give a damn about how pathetic you probably seemed when she sounded so sure of Rick's well-being. But as a professional, you held onto that trust. The rest came into view minutes after, with DuBois carrying Rick yet again to the airlift. Like Cleo moments ago, Harley's arm remained around your wobbly figure.

It took you seconds to realize that Abner was nowhere to be found, only to spot Cleo holding a torn piece of his suit that again, dampened your mood. You loved that man like a brother you’ve never had — sharing each other’s hate for the Calendar Man and now, he’s gone.

You’ll make sure to mourn for him as soon as you’re sensible enough to do so, plus the ones who died back on the island.

Milton, too, because that’s probably what Abner would’ve wanted.

"Sad?" Nanaue questioned you when he and Cleo matched your sluggish pace.

"Yeah, a little" You smiled sadly, "I'll be okay though. Don't worry, Nanaue,"

He responded with a tilt of his head before pointing at a dead body, asking if it was 'nom nom'. Even through the banter between DuBois, Nanaue and Cleo, you could only focus on the man being carried, heaving as he tried to breathe. In the airlift, Harley wordlessly insisted you sit next to him, laying soundly as a medic did the necessary.

The others, minus you, DuBois and Nanaue, went out like a light. The only thing that comforted you at that very moment was Rick's thumb, slowly yet surely stroking the back of your hand.

Was he reassuring you, or himself?

Probably a little bit of both.

He even heard you smile when DuBois apprehensively petted Sebastian.

Either he was beginning to see the light of heaven or hell, or, dare he say, a beacon of hope.

» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics

#— reve's reverie 🌹#rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #rick flag x f!reader #rick flag #rick flag fic #joel kinnaman x reader #joel kinnaman #fluff #the suicide squad 2021 #the suicide squad

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