#the suicide squad x reader

[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)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another figure walks in behind the uniformed stranger.

Rick Flag.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And DuBois? I saw him! I swear.” 

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

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

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

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

“I’m just glad you’re alive.”

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

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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

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

Imagine Trying to Cheer Nanaue up With a Makeover:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“[Y/N],” Rick scolded, “no.”

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

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

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

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

“I’m saying it would be easier–”

“Say please~”

“No.”

“Please~?”

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

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

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

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

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

“We don’t have a minute!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s all?”

“Mhm. Hungry.”

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

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

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

#marveldc-imagines-hub #imagines-hub #this ended up longer than it was supposed to but what's new #the suicide squad #dc #dceu #nanaue #the suicide squad x reader #the suicide squad imagines #the suicide squad headcanons #rick flag #robert dubois #cleo cazo #abner krill #nanaue x reader #nanaue imagines #nanaue headcanons #headcanon #imagine #fanfiction #king shark #king shark x reader #king shark imagines #king shark headcanons #ratcatcher 2 #ratcatcher #polka dot man #the polka dot man

[himbovillain-anon]

hope you enjoy!!! @ayamethewitch

Peacemaker w/ an adorably nice s/o

You and Christopher has always been an odd combination

After all, some would say that you’re the sweetest thing to come out of this cruel world, and he was…well, him

Safe to say that you got a few raised eyebrows whenever you show him off to his friends, is this some sort of half-assed attempt to flex on them?

He wasn’t gonna lie, he did feel kind insecure about all the slander he received by his teammates, but somehow, some fucking way, you managed to cheer him up every time he was down

Be it with small handmade gifts, words of affirmation, or even just a small walk in the park, there wasn’t a single moment where he was down around you 

Always trying to keep up with you in terms of kindness, he doesn’t see it as a competition, if it were you’d win by a landslide, but he wants to treat you with the same love you’ve always managed to treat him

Some of his friends were saying that you were helping him become a better person, that you were a good influence on him, even though it was never your intention, you only really wanted to give him as much of your heart as you could

And even then, they were right, even if he hated everyone on his team, he still developed that habit of being a little bit nicer to everyone because of you

Extremely protective over you, even if you could hold your own, he was not going to let anyone, and I mean anyone, even consider the idea of hurting you

#the suicide squad #the suicide squad x reader #peacemaker x reader #peacemaker #christopher smith #my writing #gender neutral reader #ayamethewitch

[cosplayproblemsposts]

If these walls could talk

@shhajsnsnsbs

this is a request from the person I tagged

Robert and you go way back right before his arrest and project starfish, you were once good friends but you abide by the law and prosper within the law. You have never seen much of him after he took up the villain's life, Robert always kept an eye on you before his arrest and prison time and you kept an eye on his daughter.

Male character x male reader

There you stood in Gotham city with an umbrella and the faint sound of city life, you have never felt so frustrated with yourself before until now "She can't be serious" Amanda waller at it again. Tyla Dubois and daughter of Robert Dubois: notifications kept appearing on your phone "What has she done now?".

"Tyla, you can't trust her...She" Tyla groans ever so loudly as you sat across from her. "Miss waller says she can help me THEN she CAN and WILL help me" you pinch the bridge of your nose "Tyla, she only wants to get into your father's head". No one said teenagers were easy but man they are mean and judgy for no goddamn reason "Tyla please listen to me".

Tyla rolls her eyes and you felt hopeless "Tyla your father has been chosen for a reason that is classified but I need you to know I can help you". Tyla slouches back into her chair "It's not my fault you have feelings for my father" snarky teenagers are one thing but displaying disrespect to someone who cares for you is a totally different thing.

"TYLA!" you have never shouted or yelled at her before for she always listens even when you lecture her. Her face and eyes show it all "I..." you groan and stood "I'll talk to you later okay kiddo" whilst leaving you never make eye contact with her or even look at her.

Rising your voice was the last thing you need "Hey, he is ready to see you now" you smoothen out your tie "Okay, I'll be right there in a second". A window and a wired phone that's all you two had "Hey, dingus hows prison" Robert crest his eyebrows. Robert shook his head "Never thought I'll see you of all people" you grinned. "What never thought you'll see my handsome face" Robert chuckles "Whatever you say" Robert a friend, a pal, and...a stupid crush.

"So tell me about this task force" Robert eyes you before saying anything "Waller wanted me to join but I refused the first time around until she dragged my daughter". You make a face "Yeah I'm aware, Tyla believes Waller can help her and I know she can but..." your eyes wander to the door leading back out to the hallway you once stood in.

"But?" Robert brings him back "But Waller wants to get to you and she doesn't know that" He hums and leans forward. "I also can help her just so I can-" you were cut off before you could even finish your sentence "I've already made up my mind". "What?" Robert pulls his seat even further just so he could lean closer.

"I agreed Y/N" you went from lazily leaning back to full-out standing "WHAT!" guards stare at you. "Y/N, sit down!" you eyed him but you listened non the less "I knew you'll show up and I know you'll do everything in your power to help me".

"You have always been there whenever the law caught up with me but once I was entitled guilty I knew you've been one of the few people who cared about me" you huffed. Roberts groans "I missed you Y/N but no matter what I coming home" you quirk an eyebrow at him. "Your daughter hates you mate so...I don't really think she'll want a father-daughter thingy" Robert grins a little.

One thing about Robert is his rude and closed off but once you showed up he became comfortable?. Welp comfortable would have to work, you didn't judge him and you were always smiling and willing to help others. He doesn't know why but he opened up to you. The one thing, he liked the most about you was the fact you didn't see a broken man instead you saw a man you needed a friend or even more.

"I know...Y/N don't do anything stupid" you huff and rolled your eyes "Of course, I won't clicky". Robert smiles at you "I'm serious Tyla needs you more than ever" you nod "Okay I get it, over and out Rob". Robert gives you a wink right before he leaves.

Robert is a pure man of skill and sheer talent but not even the sheer will of the law can hold him back. "Tyla where are you pick up the phone" you pace back and forth in your living room "I swear if something happened to you I'll-" knocking interrupted "What? I'll be right there".

You didn't even bother checking the peephole "Tyla I swear to go-" no it wasn't her but him. "Robert?" there he stood in the hallway of your apartment complex "I...What?" your eyes wouldn't lie to you, would they?. "How? and-and Huh" you must look stupid.

Robert chuckles "Aren't gonna invite me in?" you smack yourself silly at this point "Oh, of course, come in". Robert stood staring at the displayed photos of you and Tyla "I have missed a lot" you made your way over to him.

"You have and Tyla lives with me if you were wondering" Robert eyes the offered cup of coffee "Oh, don't worry I haven't poisoned it". "I have to say she's smart but very judgy" you took a seat on the couch "I guess you must have rubbed off on her" you snap your head at him "Hey!".

You crinkle your nose "She's her own person" Robert hums "Is being your person include you trying to find her" you huff and coz the mug in hand "Is it hard to see I worry about her". Robert sits beside you "I'm happy she had you looking out for her" Tyla never came as a rebellious girl to you...no you'd be lying she is INDEED rebellious.

"I care about her safety and her well-being...now I get what my grandparent was talking about" Robert laughs "No one said parenting is easy" you nod. "You're an example," you say which makes him eye you from the corner of his eye "See she's just like you" Robert would have been angry if anyone else said that to his face but when it comes to you it's the opposite.

Robert enjoys the domestic moment with you "She'll call you, I know it" Robert leans back into the couch. "Whatever you say Rob" he sets down his mug "I'm serious she'll notify you" you nod "Yeah I know". Robert isn't such a touchy guy and you know it but he cuddled up to you non the less "Rob what are you doing?" Robert sighs. You smelt like home and security "Nothing" you groan and sat your mug down "Okay, come here".

Tyla came walking in and she was worried to see the living room lights still on and to see another jacket beside hers and yours which made her even more worried. Tyla couldn't believe it, there you lay asleep with her father laid on top of you like some kid who wants cuddles. Yep, this is a conversation for another day, Tyla makes her way to her room oddly happy.

#robert dubois #male x male reader #fanfic #male reader #male character #bloodsport #the suicide squad #suicide squad #the suicide squad x male reader #the suicide squad x reader #suicide squad fanfic #dcmultiverse

[creepling]

⋆.˚☀︎٠ ࣪⭑ A KNOCK AWAY

synopsis: returning packages and a broken washing machine lead you to spend the night with your hot neighbour, digger harkness.

tags: smut - minors dni. fem!reader. age difference (early 20s x late 30s). domestic elements. reader described as "shy" but not really. sexual tension. alcohol use. drinking games. awkward moments. oral (f receiving). couch sex. big dick (it's canon it's out of my control!!!). p in v. creampie. 4.4k words.

Your neighbour had a habit of ordering ludicrous amounts of packages but is never at home to collect them. It was almost every day they arrived and piled at your front door. The last few days you’ve knocked on his door to give them, but met by silence. Your small apartment is running out of room if any more decide to show up. You had been going in the afternoons once you came off work, but he either didn’t answer or wasn’t in. This time, on Saturday morning, you decided to knock on his door. Who cares if it’s the weekend, or it’s too early, you were determined to get those packages out of your house.

You knock gently at first and wait for a minute. No answer. A week. A whole week of this bullshit. Impatience clouds your sympathy, and you knock on the door harder. You hear a thud, a clank of glass, and a curse on the other side of the door. You knock again, calling up a groan of annoyance and an “I’m coming!”

The door opens, and you’re greeted by your neighbour for the first time since you moved here. He is shirtless, showing off a collection of tattoos. His mop of hair hadn’t met a comb yet; still scuffled by sleep. You could tell he was older, and you were taken aback by how attractive he was. Given in a rugged way. You half-expected a balding divorcee with a beer belly.

“You’re George, right? I live next door,” You introduce.

Eyes squint and bloodshot, he looks you up and down before nodding. “You know what time it is, sunshine? Too bloody early to be knocking on people’s doors.” He said, fighting through a hangover to communicate. The twang of an Aussie accent was the second thing to surprise you. Even with the twang of annoyance in his tone, you bite your cheek to fight off a flattered smile.

Your bashfulness forces you to ditch the defiant speech you prepared. “I’m aware of that- but I’ve tried to get a hold of you all week, but you seem to not be in during the afternoon.” You shuffle to your open door, grab one of the packages and gesture it to George, “There’s a ton of packages here for you.”

George’s annoyed face began to soften, and he let out an idle chuckle. “Shiiiiit, I forgot about those!”

He opened his door wider and began collecting the parcels from you. You got a peek inside his apartment. Your suspicions of his home were accurate, resembling what all men living alone succumb themself to; their own squaller.

“Thanks for holding onto them for me. And sorry for being cranky, hangovers, y’know?” George said, his tone now different, one more pleasant. You smile, feeling pleased that you have the chance to converse with a neighbour and know who lives next door.

“Hope you had a good night so it’s worth it,” you chuckle, taking a stack of the packages and shuffling to his door. George takes them from your hands swiftly. This left you standing by his door, looking around the living room, stumped on the small talk. You were never really good at this.

“I mean- it was alright. They just hit you more when you get older,” he dropped the remaining boxes by his door, rubbing his temples as he stretched. His abdomen extended, shifting the waistband of his pants, making you look away and stand in silence. George scratches the back of his neck as he looks at you, feeling the interaction fade to a farewell.

“I better get going, you’ve got a lot to unbox,” you say, slowly backing away.

George gets to the door, nodding and shooting you a smile. “Thanks again for keeping them safe.” You could have sworn he looked you up and down, in a different way this time. Sizing you up, for other means. Maybe it was your imagination.

You meekly wave before retreating to your apartment. With the packages gone, your eyes adjust to the clear space, and the lingering images of your neighbour hot in your thoughts.

The washing machine was stuck again, and no matter how hard you hit it, it was still broken. Today is not going well, and you were on the edge, especially since the only other machine in the block has an ‘out of order’ sign on it. You rub your hands along your face, the skin already flushed from anger. A shuffle of footsteps approaches the entrance, and you reveal yourself to see who is witnessing your self-pity.

“Useless fucking thing, ain’t it?” It was George, the first time you’ve seen him in clothes that weren’t pyjama pants with socks and slides. He looks like he’s back from work, or the gym, it is hard to tell. You did wonder what he did for a living.

“I’m lucky it broke before I put my laundry in,” You look at the bright side with heavy eyes and a half-assed smile.

“Well, I don’t wanna brag, but I do have a machine. Wouldn’t mind ya using it until they fix it,” George shrugs with a ‘no big deal’ attitude. Suddenly your neighbour was a beacon of hope, and the stress left you with a sigh of relief.

“That would be really helpful, thanks,” you pick up your laundry basket, following up the stairs. He hunched the duffle bags over his shoulder. Reaching the top of the stairs, he unlocks his front door and lets you in first, taking a look at his living room and huffing. “Sorry about the mess.”

Beer bottles and cans littering the coffee table, clothes on the floor or hanging from the couch and chairs. You take one breath and smell the stale air, keeping a straight face. “It’s okay,” You smile through it, not wanting to place judgment. Maybe he’s just a busy guy.

George quickly shows you the settings on the machine (which he wasn’t so sure about) before excusing himself to the shower. Before you could ask questions, he was dashing to the bathroom, leaving you to your own devices. You load the machine, press the button and hope for the best.

Alone in his apartment was daunting and you begin to explore. Mostly focused on the messiness, the environment nagging at your senses. Clean space, clean mind, as they say. You pick up the trash and throw it out, starting with the beer cans. Luckily you didn’t find anything too disgusting, with the odd dirty plate you could place in the sink. You open the curtains, coughing from the dust and open the window to release the smell of stale pizza and beer. Your mind is clearer, you go to wash your hands until you spot George standing by the entrance of the living room in awe. He is still in his towel, his right hand clenching the side to keep it in place, his hair wet and slicked back. You turn away immediately, looking anywhere but him, a kick of adrenaline overtaking your insides.

“Wasn’t aware I ordered room service,” he joked, amused by your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry- I should have just left and come back later for the laundry. But- I don’t know- your place looked like it needed a tidy-up. I can’t help myself, it’s a habit. God- I’m so stupid-”

“Don’t get your undies in a twist, it’s fine. I appreciate it,” George reassures, rubbing the back of his neck, “As you can see, I don’t get many visitors.”

When he closes the bedroom door to change, it’s safe for you to look again. That feeling in your stomach didn’t go away, it still brewed in the pit and crawled its way up your core. It makes you think about him again, like those sleepless nights after your first encounter, and your cheeks grow hot. Maybe this is a good time to slip out and avoid him like the plague. But what else would you be doing? Watching TV? Playing video games? All alone in your apartment, like you always are. That’s how your life has been, work, home, bed; absent of social life, of anything remotely adventurous. You keep your feet firmly on the ground, chewing your lip in thought. There was a time when you lived life on the edge, out every weekend, hooked up with people. Letting your old self come out to play wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

“Where do you keep your cleaning supplies? I could do the rest for you if you want,” you call, inching towards the bedroom door so he can hear you. He opens the door quickly, startling you, wearing casual grey sweatpants and a white tee.

“Are you like a freelance maid or something? This how you get clients?” He leaned an arm on the door frame, looking down at you. He becomes the only thing in eyesight and you freeze, giving a shy smile.

“No, I just like cleaning, that's all. You seem like you need it, being a busy guy and all.” You study his eyes, wondering if he sees right through you.

George slowly nods, then snaps his fingers, heading towards the front door and sliding his shoes on. “Tell you what, love. I have to run a few errands, while I’m out I’ll leave you to it.”

You frown, crossing your arms. “You’re just gonna leave me, your neighbour you’ve met like once, in your house alone? You trust me like that?”

He shrugs, taking one of the duffle bags full of… something. “I’ve got many weapons I can pull on you if you try anything. Plus, you’re young and don’t look that strong, so I think I can take you on.” You weren’t sure if he was joking, but there was a cheeky look in his eye that allowed you to chuckle.

“That would do it. You can trust me.”

George gives a little salute, exiting the door. “Stuff’s under the kitchen sink. Good luck!”

You look at his limited supply, an empty bottle of bleach and a mysterious liquid in a spray bottle. You decide to use your supplies, grab them from your apartment, and come back to start the work.

You collapse on the couch gasping for air. People underestimate how much energy it takes to clean, especially when cleaning George’s house. Within an hour you cleaned the living room and kitchen and hung up your laundry to dry in your apartment. The worst part was the vacuuming, as like not owning cleaning supplies, he also didn’t have a vacuum. Go figure.

George eventually returned, greeted by your efforts and your limp body sprawled on his couch. You quickly got up, hoping he didn’t mind. Heck, this guy doesn’t have a vacuum, he can’t be the judge. “So, what do you think?” You anticipate.

“You did a bloody good job, I’ll tell ya that,” a smile on his face, making you smile too. “And since ya the best neighbour on this side of Metropolis, I got ya a lil payment to say thanks.”

George pulls out a crate of beers and takeaway pizza, presenting them to you. Your eyebrows knit in confusion, but you smile at the thought. “Thanks, George.”

“Please, call me Digger, everyone calls me that,” he said, “Thought we could have a couple of beers and I’d feed ya, but I’m no chef, hence the pizza.”

“So, Digger… is this you inviting me over for dinner?” You ask, pursing your lips. He thought about it and then nodded his head. “I guess I am,” he smirks.

Pizza crusts and beer cans decorate the coffee table, the television musing low music. You laugh at a joke Digger told you, hiding your mouth to not spit all over the place. He sits low on the couch, his hands resting between his legs with a beer. With your legs close to your chest, you take a sip of beer when a silence falls between you.

“Thanks for having me, I’m having a lovely time.” You confess, a little tipsy. You get shy admitting that, focusing on the music, unaware of Digger’s eyes not leaving your sight.

“I didn’t have a college kid cleaning my house on my bingo card,” he muses teasingly, smirking at your bashful smile.

“I am not a college kid! I graduated ages ago.”

“And by ages ago you mean in the last five years?”

He chuckles at your look of defeat. “Says the guy who’s five years off getting a pension,” you tease in defence.

“I’m not that old!” He defended back, “Nowhere near it!”

“Well, you’re at least old enough to clean your own house and have a vacuum.”

“You got me there…” he says into his beer.

The silence fell between you once again, but surprisingly it was not awkward. The air was thick, and not with stale air like before. You convince yourself it’s one-sided, keeping yourself together. You had an idea, but it was juvenile. When he doesn't say anything to keep the conversation going, you go on and suggest it.

“How about we play truth or drink?”

“How old are you? Five?” He scoffs.

“We already established my age, remember? C’mon, it’ll be a good icebreaker. Don’t you wanna get to know your friendly neighbour?” You nudge his arm playfully, realising you’ve been going that a lot since you had a drink. Mostly when he told a joke. You try not to cringe, realising your inferiority. He probably thinks you’re immature, and you suddenly see yourself as a fool. But when he turns his body towards you, giving you his full attention while cracking open another beer, you feel a little better about yourself.

“Who’s asking first?” He asks.

You volunteered since you suggested playing. You turn towards him, fighting through a fit of giggles, liking the way his eyes smile at you. He has nice eyes, light in colour, a mix of blue and grey with crow's feet winging the sides.

“Okay, let’s start easy. How long have you lived on the block?” You ask.

“‘Bout five months, I’d say,” he says.

“Do you move around a lot?”

“Oi, thought you ask one question at a time?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just curious,” you dart your eyes to his smirking lips before looking away.

“To answer your other question, I do move around a bit. It’s a job thing.”

You look back at him, catching his stare, the one that never seems to fade from you. You like the way he stares at you, so attentive like he refuses to have you out of his sight. It’s the type of stare that makes someone feel special.

“My turn,” he chirps, “are you always this shy around people?”

“What? I’m not shy,” you scoff.

“Really? You’re not shy?”

“What happened to starting easy?”

“No, you said that. I didn’t. I never start easy,” he says haughtily.

You roll your eyes, taking the beer can to your lips and taking a sip. Digger scoffs in shock, “No way are you drinking to that.”

“It’s a ridiculous question, plus I technically did answer the question. I’m not shy.”

Digger shakes his head in disappointment, breaking eye contact to chuckle into his hand. You narrow your eyes, readying the next question.

“Do you have a wife and kids?” You ask.

Digger didn’t act like you struck a nerve, but he wasn’t laughing anymore. He shook his head, and you take that as an answer, not wanting to press further. Yet, he begins to speak, in a tone softer than the one you’ve been getting used to;

“I know at my age I probably should, but it’s never worked out, y’know? The whole love thing I’ve never gotten the hang of.”

You resonate with him, meekly returning a smile. “Me either.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Digger said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re good-looking. Woulda bet somebody snagged ya by now.”

You can’t help but chuckle, hearing how wrong his words are. “I guess I’ve gotten close before, but it was never meant to be.”

Digger nods in agreement like he is in the same boat. You had a strong urge to move closer to him, but resort to fidgeting with a thread on the coach. “Who’s turn is it?”

“Mine,” Digger returns his gaze to you. It was more intense, and you feel him all over you. As you grow the courage to meet his eyes, you see them trailing from your lips to meet you, his icy eyes darkening and lips parting as he readies his words.

“How would you feel about kissing me?”

Your stillness speaks volumes to him, and from the look of shock in your eyes, Digger’s smile fades and turns sour. He hides his face in his hands, cursing under his breath.

“Fuck- Just drink to that, it was bloody stupid,” his self-depreciation eats at you and you try and find the words to explain yourself. He was right, you were shy, and it got in the way of your feelings. So much for being the big flirt like you planned.

“No, it’s fine, honestly-”

He cuts you off, “I just thought- why else would wanna hang out with an old fuck like me? Keep my packages, clean my house,” he groans out a sigh, “and the way you look at me, fuck, it’s been driving me insane all day.”

“Digger-” you catch his attention, softening your face, and placing your beer on the coffee table. You shift your body closer to his, your movement swift but gentle. “I’d like it if you kissed me.”

He blinks, adjusting his eyes to the proximity, noticing the small details of your features, the softness of your lips. He swallows back his nerves, “Nah- you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

There is only one way to prove him wrong, and you did it by making the first move. You press your lips against him, and you're struck with his immediate touch as he engulfs you in his arms. Your hands snake up his chest to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss as he beckons you to press your body against him with his firm hold. He grins into the kiss at the sound of your whimpers, holding the small of your waist and guiding you to his lap. You go with the motion, swinging your leg around and straddling him, enamoured by the hold he has on you. The makeout was sloppy, tipsy on beer and getting more drunk on each other’s lips. Digger’s kisses were firm and deep, his chapped lips coated in your sweet spot as he glided his tongue along yours. His hands lay haven on your asses, rubbing his callous palm around the fabric of your pants, enchanting your hips to move ever so slightly.

“Ain’t so shy now, are ya?” He grunts into your ear, migrating his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling on your faint skin. You see stars, closing your eyes in bliss, your fingers tugging at his shirt and fighting off the urge to rip it off. He takes the time to remove his t-shirt with your eager assistance, latching onto you once you discard it.

“Please, I need you,” you plead. You gaze down at him, your stare both close and far. His bucking hips invite your crotch to feel his length, the tip of his bulge grinding against your thigh.

He whispers to you, “Tell me what you want.”

 “Use me, I know you want to,” you taunt, enjoying the light that ignites in his eyes, his grip tighter on your skin.

“You’ll regret saying that, but I bet you can handle it,” he jesters, pulling your hair to expose your neck, his lips latching back onto your sweet skin. His other hand pushes your top over your breasts, exposing your hardening nipples. Licking towards your nipples, sucking on them gently and cupping your tits in his hands, grazing his teeth when you grind down on his erection.

Digger, hungry for more of you, lays you down on the couch. His eyes demand your attention, taking time to pull down your pants and underwear, drenched in your arousal. He lowers his head to your cunt, prying your legs open as you try to hide how wet you were.

“Don’t hide from me, love, show me how pretty you are,” he muses, admiring your glistening walls, lapping them tenderly with the tip of his fingers. Relishing in your squirms, he gazes at you under his lashes. “Fuck, you’re drenched.”

Your hands grip his hair when his tongue makes contact with your sensitive walls, his prominent nose snug on your clit as he eats you out. His movements are deep and steady, keeping himself in place between your quivering thighs, refusing to come up for breath as a rising feeling of release fills your insides. Shifting his tongue from your walls to your clit, his nose taking place not to neglect your pleasure, his eyes checking your reactions as his pride swelled from your raptured state. He takes a breath to tease you in between, his hoarse voice wavering against your heat, “Look at you, getting so worked up for me.”

“’m so close,” that was music to Digger’s ears, egging him on to keep up the pace.

Your whimpers rise into moans, and your thighs shiver under his grip and come undone. Digger doesn’t stop, pressing a firm hand on your stomach, keeping you in place so he rides out your high. You’re flushed in humility, but fuck it feels amazing. You break a sweat, shivering at the cooling of your hot skin, sighing in relief when Digger finally relaxes his hold on you. His face meets yours, your arousal coating the stubble on his chin and spreading to his chops. He is ferocious and light-headed – as if drunk on the taste of you.

“Hope you’ve still got some spunk in ya,” he pants, “I’m as stiff as a board here.”

Digger invites your hand to feel his erection. You didn’t think he could be harder than he was before, but he comes full of surprises. He slings the waistband of his trousers down and his cock springs free, twitching at the touch of your flinching fingers.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” Blessed by the man himself, his size was insane. You straighten in intimidation.

“I’ll go slow, okay? Just- fuck- I’m bursting at the seams here,” he begs, cupping your cheek with a reassuring hand.

You nod with a morbid curiosity, unable to deny the instinct to have him inside you, to feel every inch of him. Digger litters you in kisses, sloppy and idle as he dampens your cheeks and lips. Opening your legs wide, sucking in a breath, you watch as he lines his cock to your entrance. There was no fuss in sliding inside you, your dripping cunt lubing his tip and coating his shaft, the feeling of him inside you more filling than painful. It sets a spark in your mind, your eyes distant, the twitch of his cock against your walls melting your senses.

An unexpected moan escapes Digger’s lips, but he is attentive enough to coo for your attention, holding your face and bringing you back to earth.

“You still with me, hun?” He chuckles at your dazed look, trying to keep himself together as you tighten around him. You blink back to reality and wrap your legs around him, mewling at the slow thrusts coming into you. You eventually nod a reply, straining your neck to witness his cock buried inside you to train your hole for his massive size. He takes advantage of your position, locking a hand behind your head and picking up the pace. He is smitten by your squeaks. His rough hand clenches your hip, setting out to fuck you good. As you will soon learn, Digger has a habit of getting carried away. You learn a lot of dirty things about him that both shock you and fill you with sweetly sick lust.

Digger has you bent over the arm of the couch, his cock pummelling in and out of your abused cunt, muffling your feral moans with a hand clasped over your mouth. He arches your back and presses his lips against your ear, reminding you that he can see right through you.

“Is this what you wanted? To fuck you; get you drunk on my fat dick. Bet you didn’t think I had it in me.”

“You’re so good, so ‘fucking good,” you moan, your eyes glued to him with lust, a sly smile across your face. Digger sticks two fingers into your mouth, teasing your tongue to swirl around them, smirking at your eagerness.

“Shit, that’s enough to make me finish,” he says in a low voice, “And you wouldn’t want me cumming inside you, would ya?”

The way you clench around his dick and the sidious look in the dim light suggest the opposite. “No, come inside me,” you seal the deal.

“You’re so bloody dirty.” Digger’s eyes turn dark, his hand wrapping around your neck, rutting into you faster and harder than before. You see stars, giving into the numbing pleasure you succumb to. A dumbfound smile stretches across your lips once you feel the warmth of Digger’s seed filling your cunt, hitting against your womb. His weight falls on you momentarily, leaving kisses along your back while his energy is slowly sucked out of him. His cock slips out and before his heavy eyes close over, he gazes at the cum dripping from your slit, groping your ass for a better view.

Digger gathers his senses, only noticing you struggling to get up from your stiff knees. He brings you onto his lap, soothing your legs and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Well, that was something…” He chuckles, “Ya think we got a little carried away?”

“I think I’ll never be able to walk again,” you joke, yet anticipated the next few days entailing leg pain.

He felt guilty, knowing to make up for it he would need more than pizza and beer. He continues to sooth your legs, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“How’s about I run you a bath?” He suggests.

There he is again, that beacon of hope. He is going to find it hard to get rid of you now. “That’d be amazing.”

#digger harkness x reader #captain boomerang x reader #the suicide squad #kill the justice league #ssktjl #smut #dc fanfic #ehhh might be a lil ooc it's my first time writing him sorryyy

[rodolfoparras]

Content tags: 18+, top male reader , dom male reader, friends to lovers, digger is a yapper basically

It’s no secret that Digger has a mouth on him, and you’d been acquainted with that very same mouth ever since you joined the squad, with Digger throwing flirty remarks your way or making comments that made you straight up laugh, even sometimes getting a bit loose lipped after a couple of shots, and dancing his way into your heart.

So it came as no surprise when you found out he was just as vocal in bed, matter of fact you found out about it before you even got to doing anything, with his chapped lips pressed against yours, tasting liquor on his tongue as he confessed how he couldn’t believe this was happening, asking you if you’re sure you want to do this, swiftly followed up with a “never mind please don’t regret this”

It’s with your head between his thighs that you find out just how vocal he can be, endless praises and nonsensical words rolling off of his tongue despite only having kissed his thighs and when you finally put your mouth on him he’s drooling all over the sheets accent getting thicker and words becoming more incomprehensible as he tells you how good he feels but it doesn’t take much before his praises turn into pleas and he’s begging for you to “please please fuck me”

And who are you to deny his wish? little whines and whimpers slip past his lips as your cockhead pushes past his puckered rim, with him making an off hand comment about the sting that comes with the stretch even though he’d been the one in a hurry to prep himself.

He only mellows down when you bottom out, shaky breaths escaping his lips as he gets used to the feeling of practically being skewed onto your dick

However it doesn’t take much before he’s wiggling under your grip, telling you to move move move please and when you finally do so he doesn't waste a second to let you know how good he feels, telling you to go harder, faster- to give him more please! getting so loud you’ll have to put a hand over his mouth to quiet him down or shove fingers down his throat to muffle the sounds but even that isn’t enough to silence him.

And after going for multiple rounds, you’ll hear his voice, low and hoarse muttering the words “come on, one more time”

#captain boomerang #captain boomerang x reader #captain boomerang x male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #male reader #x male reader #digger harkness #digger harkness x reader #digger harkness x male reader #suicide squad game

[fandomnerd9602]

Y/N walks in to find Harley hanging upside down…

Y/N: do I wanna know why?

Harley: I couldn’t find anymore mistletoe.

Y/N: why don’t you come down and I’ll kiss you anyway

Harley swings down and lands in Y/N’s arms and giggles…

Harley: tempting…I placed all the mistletoe over our bed (winks)

Y/N: you’ve been naughty

Harley: only for you

#dceu #dc comics incorrect quotes #dc comics fluff #dc comics #harley quinn #margot robbie #christmas romance #christmas fic #Christmas #harley quinn x reader #harley quinzel #suicide squad

[gothamitelove]

Hey. Could I request a “dating joker would include…”? (Jared Leto’s joker)

thanks!!

hell yeah!! first im gonna send you over to this post if you haven't already seen it, but here are some other hcs i have for him:

dating leto!joker headcanons:

this man is VERY touchy. he likes knowing you're nearby, and even more so than that, likes knowing you're his

will absolutely use that to scare away anybody he thinks is making eyes at you

also very fond of giving you stuff. part of it is a possessive thing (a lot of things are, with him), knowing that you're wearing things he gave you, but he also likes giving you things he knows you'll like so you wear that pretty smile for him

he does love it when you smile. he thinks your laugh is the most beautiful sound in the world

when he's asleep, he looks... peaceful, actually. the most peaceful you've ever seen him.

he kind of attaches to you like a koala when you're in the same bed at night. you could be on opposite sides of the bed to start out with but you WILL wake up with him all over you

a HUGE fan of the holding your face in his hands thing

not above sitting in your lap! this is the joker we're talking about, he is nothing if not flexible (in a couple different ways, my friend)

#asks #joker #suicide squad #dcu #x reader #gender neutral reader #dc x reader #rogues gallery #headcanons #dceu #joker x reader #suicide squad joker #the joker #leto joker x reader #leto joker #jared leto joker

[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

[member-or-green]

https://amanda-528.mjcyd.asia/z/BJIVEMi

#dickinson #suicide squad #minka kelly #candidbooty #skz x reader #all might #jonerys #frances bean cobain #designer #massage #killugon

[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

[acapelladitty]

Captain Boomerang/Female Reader - Punished

Summary - Captain Boomerang is subjected to a little punishment for being unable to keep his hands to himself.

A03 link for all my fics 📝

Kneeling atop his raggedy bed on all fours, Digger's fingers were so tightly wound within the thin sheets that you were surprised he hadn't torn through them yet. His back, sweat-slicked and arching with every gentle move of your fingers, felt very tense beneath your free hand as you pressed down on the lower end of his spine.

"Stop moving." You growl, pulling your gloved fingers free of his fluttering hole long enough to smack his ass roughly. "Be good or I'll move on to your back or thighs next."

The skin of his ass was already reddened and sensitive, thick welts having raised the skin where his own boomerang had been used to punish him for touching himself without permission. A pain slut, he had taken every blow until his ass looked almost ready to bleed and his sleazy face was twisted with lust and unshed tears.

At the fresh smack, a pitiful groan escapes him and his head tilts back at you. "I'm wound up tighter than a nuns cunt here," Digger pants out and you watch as a droplet of sweat rolls down his crooked nose, "so give me a break, sweetheart. Eh?" His accented words are deep, roughened by his arousal and you admire his mild restraint in not dropping from his kneeling position.

"No excuses, baby." You chide, returning the tips of your pointer finger and middle finger to his ass. "You're the one who begged me for this. Begged! Like a pathetic little bitch asking for a treat."

Teasing his hole as you push the tips of your fingers in enough to begin stretching him out once more, your free hand snakes around to his cock - brushing along the very tight cockring which sits along the base to keep him hard and compliant.

"Then again," pressing against the cockring as you wrap your fingers around his twitching length, "I don't think anyone could describe you as little."

And it was true, Digger - for whatever reason - possessed a cock that had genuinely shocked you upon first viewing. Easily two inches larger than any you had seen before, outside of online porn, it was paired with a delicious girth that made your thighs tremble with a discomforting ecstacy when he finally managed to fit it all inside.

God may not have loved him, but goddamn did he give him that at least.

Said cock was painfully hard within your grip, the cockring making it almost impossible for him to come despite all your meddling, and you rubbed your thumb along his throbbing head with a wicked smile. At the extra stimulation, Digger gasps and his hips move of their own accord - bucking down into your cruel hand as he also inadvertently fucks himself harder on your fingers with every thrust.

"Do you want to come, baby?"

"Please." He groans out, his face burying itself in the sheets as he wipes off the sweat. Your fingers move up to tease along the thin smattering of almost reddish hair which decorates his chest and you pull at the strands playfully, enjoying the way it makes his breath hitch as he continues. "C'mon, darling, I've been so good that I'd kill ya for a gobby."

"I'm not putting my mouth anywhere near you." Chuckling, you curl your fingers around inside his ass until you feel the slightly hardened skin of his prostate and you instantly begin to massage it with a teasing friction. "You get my fingers and that's it."

Any smart comeback killed in the crib by the pressure of your fingers on his most cruelly sensitive nerves, he can only whine into the sheets as his knees spread further against the bed. Taking pity, your free fingers fumble messily with the cockring as they snap it free and immediately grip around his length - his breathing stuttering as he realises that he's finally allowed to come.

Hands moving in tandem, in takes less than thirty seconds before Digger is spewing obscenities into the air which are broken by lewd moans as his orgasm hits, hard. His release, hips rutting away into your fist like an animal, arcs far into the air as it covers the sheets beneath him, with a few errand droplets splattering against his neck as he raises his ass high.

"Good boy." You purr, refusing to let up on your ministrations against both his cock and prostate until his legs begin to shake from the overstimulation and his words become little more than pathetic whines as he thrusts in place. "Now, let's wait a minute and we'll see if you can manage another one."

Despite its previous torments, his cock twitches in your hand as the prospect and his unspoken eagerness earns him another throaty giggle as you consider having him eat you out in the meantime.

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang x reader #digger harkness x reader #suicide squad #suicide squad kill the justice league #ssktjl

[ornii]

|| My Kind of Crazy ||

Harley Quinn X Male Reader

So after Binge Watching Barbie, rewatching Suicide Squad, Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn), don’t forget that part, and The Suicide Squad, my appreciation For Morgot Robbie has increased more than it already has. Adore her. So, here’s part one of ?

(Any Tags I forgot please let me know.)

The Stench of rotting carpet, old wood and the tinge of blood was in the air. But this was all a part of the plan. Inside that old decrepit apartment you had your pistol Aimed at a man standing before you, Batman. Yes, The, Batman. A series of choices lead to this moment, but it wasn’t always like this. You were his Robin, his Boy wonder. Now you’re the shadow hiding within Gotham. Your foot was placed on the chest of another man, who’s cold and chilling laugher echoes though the room, Joker. It was on this same day, that you were Abducted; tortured, and subsequently Killed by the Very man. A Trip in the Lazuras pit changed you for the worst. But to your surprise after your revival, Joker was still alive, and Batman hadn’t sunk revenge for your murder, and all you could ask was…

“Why?” You as under your Helmet.. “Why him?” You said, Batman was stoic, silent.

“Who are you..?” He grumbles, his voice modulated to avoid detection, “You don’t know? I’m hurt.” You say with much sarcasm, you grip your helmet and tear it off, showing your face to Batman, even with the small J scar under your eye, it’s obvious who you were. Out of all the people he thought, he never expected his old Sidekick..

To be under the Red Hood.

Jokers eyes lock with the scar and he laughs much harder.

“Wow, now THAT, is funny!” He has his grilled toothy grin, and you placed your foot higher right on his throat. The wheezing laughter continues slowly.

“You don’t get to talk.” You growl at him, and then turnt your attention back to Batman.

“You know, I forgive you for not saving me, you can’t save everyone. But why, why is HE still alive?!” You scream, the rage and trauma building up in you finally. “After everything he’s done, he’s crippled, broken, murdered people! Why, why is he still here?!”

“You don’t understand… you never understood.” He said to you, and you scoff.

“What? That you can’t do it? That you don’t have the spine to! It’s too hard isn’t it?” You ask, Bruce shakes his head.

“No, I know it’s easy, he deserves to die a thousand times over, but if I killed him, i wouldn’t stop myself… I’d justify it, then I’d justify killing someone else, and it’ll keep going.. and I’ll sink further, and further into the dark.” Bruce said, you shook your head.

“You can’t control yourself… I’m not talking about Dent, or Penguin, Even Harley!” You toss the gun, Bruce instinctively catches it but, obviously isn’t capable of holding a gun.

“Do it, shoot him. Kill one, and save millions of lives… you’re the Batman right! You save people, don’t you? So save them! And kill him!” You demand, Bruce stares at you, both of you unwavering in your convictions. But he simply dropped the gun.

“No… I’m sorry, (Y/n).” He said in a solemn whisper.

“Fine!” You yell, revealing one last trick up your sleeve. an explosive set in the entire apartment block, revealing the dead man’s switch in your other hand. Joker laughs as he looks around it all beeping. He turns to Batman, and just smiles

“You, you found a way to win! But to lose everything! AHAHAHAHAHA—“ he laughs, reveling in the chaos as you let go of the switch, Batman made a choice, and now all three of you had to live with it, and in a flash, an explosion, it all faded to black for you.

You’ve been playing that in your mind for the past year you’ve been in Belle Reeve. Sitting in your orange room, captive. The 4x4 room kept you isolated, only for a bang at the door.

“Inmate. You’ve got a visitor! Stand up, face the wall.” He yells, you weren’t keen to listen to others. You stood up, facing the door, cracking your neck.

“Any of your men step in, I’m sending ten of them to the ICU.” You said, very calmly, the door opens and they rush in, training with the Batman made fighting multiple enemies a breeze, punches, kicks and knees flew all though the room as you delivered counters, combos and ruthless tactics. But all fun even came at an end as you were apprehended and locked into a chair. Struggling like a dog you strained to get out, you were wheels around Belle Reeve as you see eleven stretchers head to your cell.

“Told you..” you mutter, struggling in the binds. Being wheeled into an interrogation room, you kept your lips purse until you saw your visitor, she wore a women’s suit and skirt, her eyes deep brown like mud drowning you in muck. Amanda Waller. You looked around and saw that the room was being monitored by a single camera. She gave one officer the nod and he presses a button, the red light on the camera fades off.

“You’re not as scary as I expected.” She said, holding a file she sat down across from you. You knew about Waller, working with the Batman gave you some intel on contacts. And she was the nastiest one of all.

“Waller?” You ask.

“In the flesh.” She responded and opened your file, reading it off.

“(Y/n) Todd, Father was a factory worker, died due to Gang related activity. Mother was an addict, died years ago, leaving you alone, but you see.. that’s where it ends, as if you faded off the planet of the earth. Until you resurface a year later.” She said, all of that was true.

“What’s your point?” You ask. And she reads off another page.

“Peak Physical fitness, durability, speed, Agility, Strenght. Master Of Arms and a Genius level intellect… you are a dangerous and powerful individual, so I’m offering you a chance to cut your sentence down..” she offers

“You’re bluffing..” you struggle in the binds more, but Waller keeps her dead stare.

“Do I look like I’m bluffing?” She said, you stop and she looks you in the eye. “you complete your task, you get years off your sentence, you fail.. you die. Fairly simple.” She said, a million thoughts raced though your mind, but one did.

“Get out, Find Joker.. Kill, Joker.”

“…Im in.” You said, Waller takes her file and closes it. “Good, get his bomb in and relay with the others.” She says, your attitude shifts pretty quickly, “bomb?” You ask, “What do you mean bomb?!” You yell, but nobody said anything, being wheeled away you were held down by officers and a needle injected right into the base of your skull. Granted it wasn’t the worse thing that’s been done to you, still hurt. Finally reaching the breaking point you were wheeled outside, the sun finally hitting your skin and you found yourself surrounded by soldiers, many wounded, others preparing for what seems to be a war.

You turn your head left to spot someone you know too well, Deadshot. Seems he was also canned to Belle Reeve, and to your left was a woman you knew too well, Harley Quinn, also a prisoner. Your blood began to boil even more than before and you were ready to throttle her, but with all these soldiers here, you doubt you’d be able to do it without getting filled with lead. So you bid your time as any Hunter would. A Soldier approached them, and looked them up and down.

“Unlock 'em.” He orders, the soldiers obliged and your restraints are removed, you sit up from yoyr bindings and look further down your line. You even spot Killer Croc, in all his, Lizardy goodness. Harley Stretches and keeps her off putting smile. Closest to Harley was a man adorned with Tattoos, ElDiablo was his name, you heard a few reports about him from Batman.

“Mmm! Hi, boys! Harley Quinn. How do you do?” She said, obviously no one said anything. It was dead silence until she looks around. “Huh? What was that? I should kill everyone and escape? Sorry. It's the voices…” she said, but laughs, “I'm kidding! Jeez!…That's not what they really said.”

The soldiers aren’t done assembling their Squad, more soldiers drag over a sack that’s fighting pretty furiously.

“What do we got here? Twelve pounds of shit in a 10-pound sack. Welcome to the party, Captain Boomerang.” He watches them cut it open, Captain immediately swings on the first person he sees. The Soldiers pin him to a wall.

“Hey, what's going on, man? Hey, one minute I'm playing Mahjong with me nanna, then this red streak hits me outta nowhere.” Boomerang pleads.

“Shut up! You were caught robbing a diamond exchange.”

“I was not!”

He Totally Was.

There was one last member, Slipknot, the man who could climb anything, which was an odd ability set, it nonetheless he was here. The man before them all was Colonel Rick Flag.

“Listen up! In your necks, injection you got, it's a nanite explosive. It's the size of a rice grain, but it's powerful as a hand grenade. You disobey me, you die. You try to escape, you die. You otherwise irritate or vex me, and guess what? You die.” He says, which throws a wrench in your plans to escape, Harley obnoxiously puts her hand up.

“I'm known to be quite vexing. I'm just forewarning you.”

“Lady, shut up!” Flag yells, and then composed himself, “This is the deal. You're going somewhere very bad, to do something that'll get you killed. But until that happens, - you're my problem.” He explains, Deadshot looks him up and down.

“Mmm. So was that like a, uh, pep talk?” He asks.

“Yeah. That was a pep talk. There's your shit. Grab what you need for a fight. We're wheels up in 10.” He said, crates of gear was brought in for you and your “Teammates.”

“You might wanna work on your team motivation thing. You heard of Phil Jackson? He's like the gold standard, okay? Triangle, bitch. Study.” Deadshot, with those very inspiring words to flag suits up with everyone. You open your crate to see the old gear you had, still in damn good condition, and you suit up, Your body armor and jacket lined with shuriken, explosives and throwing knives, a combat knife strapped to your leg. Twin M1911 Dual Handguns, mint condition. And your helmet, still holding one scar on it, you take the helmet out of its case and stare at it. Your eyes waver for a moment to your other teammates, everyone seems to have some dumb gimmick, but your eyes dressed down Harley, not by your choice of course, you’ve been cramped in a hole for nearly a year, and the first woman you see was stripping down in front of you. An urge came over you and you knew exactly what it was, she finally gets her shirt on and sees almost every guy staring.

“What?” She said, they all quickly go back to doing what they were supposed to do, you as well, pushing those feelings down. You keep looking at your mask, Deadshot does the same thing with his.

“What? Won't fit anymore? Too much junk in the trunk?” Harley said to him.

“Nah. Every time I put this on, somebody dies.” He tried to shake it off, but couldn’t that.. this wouldn’t be a normal contracts

“And?” Harley said.

“I like putting it on.” He admits, she smirks and grabs her mallet, “Goody. Somethin' tells me a whole lotta people are about to die!” She sounds so giddy.

“Yeah. It's us. We're being led to our deaths.” Diablo said.

“I don’t plan on it.” You said, looking down the barrels of one of your 1911’s.

“You know something we don’t Mate?” Boomerang asks, “No.” You reply. “I just don’t plan on dying again.” You mutter.

“What you a zombie or something?” Deadshot looks unimpressed. “Something like that… point is; Been dead, done that… I plan on getting out of here..” you say, and turn to Harley.

“I’ve got business to take care of.” You made your claim pretty obvious but it didn’t matter to you, escape is the only plan, and getting this explosive disabled. “You don’t seem to giddy like these guys..” you ask El Diablo, “I’m not here to hurt anyone man.” He said. Deadshot was the first to let them all know.

“Y'all might wanna leave old boy alone. He could torch this whole joint. Ain't that right, ese?” He looks at Diablo, who calmly shows his hands, flames emitting from them, but low ones:

“Ain't got nothing to worry about from me. I'm cool, homie.” He says, Flag returns to them, holding a tablet with Amanda on screen.

“Behold the voice of God.” He said, and she gives them the rundown. “For those of you who don't know me officially, my name is Amanda Waller. There's an active terrorist event in Midway City. I want you to enter the city, rescue HVT-1, and get them to safety.” She orders.

“I'm sorry. Uh... For those of us who don't speak good guy, what is HVT-1?” Deadshot asks.

“HVT.. High Value Target.” You say, “It’s like a bounty, Basically a rescue mission.” You explain, Deadshot nods, admitting you made it sound much less cool. “The only person that matters in the city, the one person you can't kill. Complete the mission, you get time off your prison sentence. Fail the mission, you die. Anything happens to Colonel Flag, I'll kill every single one of you. Remember, I'm watching. I see everything.” Waller ends the communication and Flag turns to Deadshot

There's your pep talk.”

“Compared to your shit, she killed it. So that's it? What, we some kind of Suicide Squad?” He asks, Flag ignores his question and leaves.

“I'll notify your next of kin. Alpha, Bravo team. Mount up!” He orders, you look around to the team you’ll be forced to work with. All of them, criminals in their own right, but for now they’re the thing between success, or all of you dying painful deaths. You put on your helmet and the detective mode still works, turning it off. You load your guns and walk to the helicopter.

Task Force X, has been activated.

#male reader #harley quinn #harley quinzel #harley x reader #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn x male reader #suicide squad #dc #dc comics #Ornii #angst #we simp

[thequeenofuselessinformation]

Need I say more

#welcome to the shitshow #suicide squad kill the justice league #suicide squad #dc #dc comics #dcu #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #deadshot #floyd lawton #amanda waller #captain boomerang #george harkness #digger harkness #george digger harkness #suicide squad imagine #dc imagine #dc x reader #suicide squad kill the justice league game #dc meme #suicide squad meme #evil superman

[playbucky]

Squad Death.

You used to be part of the Suicide Squad, running it alongside Rick Flag but now you’ve joined the 141.  Characters – Reader, Ghost, Soap, Rick, Harley, Deadshot, mentions of Waller and Laswell.  Word Count – 2.4k 

‘For this job you’ll be meeting another team on the ground, sixteen hundred at the local pub.’ Laswell said. ‘They got names?’ Price asked, Laswell nodded and pulled the folder out, her blue eyes flirted to you. ‘Admiral Rick Flag, Harley Quinn and Dead Shot or better known as -,’ Laswell listed them off, you blinked away. ‘The Suicide Squad.’ You finished for her, they turned and looked at you. ‘You know them?’ Price asked, you hummed. ‘Worked with them for just under five years before I joined you.’ You informed him. ‘Why Suicide Squad?’ Soap asked, you leaned back in your seat as their files were set on the table. ‘You don’t get hired onto that team and make it out alive.’ You said, arms crossed in front of you. ‘You did.’ Soap commented but noticed the way your eyes glossed over as you clenched you jaw and nodded. ‘Yeah, I made it out.’ You replied, Ghost watched as you lifted your head and you scoffed. ‘Looks like you're meeting my old team fellas.’ You commented, a small wrinkle between Price’s eyebrows appeared at the cold tone of your voice, you pushed out your seat and walked away.

‘Y/N!’ Harley practically screamed, she wrapped her arms around your neck, legs over your hips.  You caught her, hand on her thigh as she gave you an exaggerated kiss before she jumped off you.  ‘Harley.’ You greeted her, happy to see her after five years. ‘Who’s the hotshots with you?’ She quizzed and looked over your shoulder.  ‘My team.’ You told her, her eyes widened and took a step back from you. ‘Your team, you replaced us.’ She sounded offended but you rolled your eyes. ‘Harley, Deadshot, Colonel, I would like you to meet Ghost, Soap and Price.’ You introduced your teams, knowing that it was going to be an interesting couple of days. ‘Soap, why you called Soap?’ Harley asked, Soap glanced to you as you arched an eyebrow. ‘Good at cleaning up.’ He said, Harley’s face dropped and everyone fell silent. ‘Oh! I get it!’ She almost screamed, you took a step away before she smiled widely and laughed, almost manically. ‘Admiral Rick Flag.’ Rick introduced himself to Ghost, you could see them sizing one and another up. ‘Lieutenant Riley.’ Ghost responded, his voice deeper than normal. ‘Are you done measuring your dicks?’ You appeared beside them, Rick’s head snapped to you. ‘Just trying to -,’ He started, you tilted your head.

‘Be a pain in the ass?’ You asked rhetorically, ‘You both are, don’t need to test it. We’re waiting for you for the rundown.’ You told the pair before you turned and walked away, Harley joined your side as Deadshot and Soap were talking to each other, quickly talking like old teammates. ‘What’s Waller looking into this case for?’ You asked, Rick turned and looked at you. ‘Why’s the British looking into it?’ Rick asked, you furrowed your brows. ‘Rick.’ You hissed. ‘Meant to be an ex-colleague of Wallers.’ He said, you briefly closed your eyes. ‘Colleague or employee?’ You quizzed. ‘Employee.’ He said, you scoffed and shook your head, you had a gut feeling. ‘Do they know?’ Rick asked, you rubbed your lips together and shook your head. ‘No.’ ‘You haven’t told them?’ He quizzed, you shook your head before you made eye contact with him. ‘No, how do you bring it up in a conversation?’ ‘What about the injuries, scars and the amount of times you’ve escaped death?’ ‘Funny enough I don’t parade around in my underwear when in the huts or even in the field.’ You told him. ‘Y/N.’ Rick said, you shook your head as you scoffed at yourself. ‘I know okay, trust me I know but I can’t tell them.’ You told him. ‘What’s with the mask?’ Rick asked, the subject had been changed now but your shoulders still dropped. ‘Rick.’ You hissed. ‘What, you’re telling me he doesn’t take it off?’ He asked, you narrowed your eyes at him. ‘We’ve worked with all creatures and you’re picky about a mask?’ You hissed, he shrugged his shoulders.

‘I’m not picky about the mask, I just want to know if you’re being treated well.’ He said, you clenched your jaw as you looked at your old partner.

‘Rick, go be with Harley and others.’ You told him, his eyes widened as he looked at you.

‘What did I do?’ He asked, you arched your eyebrow before you shook your head. ‘You’re getting in my last nerve,’ you told him, ‘so please before I show the team my true potential. Leave.’ You nearly snarled at him, his mouth dropped open. ‘Y/N-,’ ‘Go away Rick.’ You said.

‘The parcel is on the plane.’ Harley said, everyone looked defeated, Ghost looked around. ‘Where’s Y/N?’ Ghost questioned, Harley raised her shoulders in a shrug. ‘Don’t know she went radio silent.’ Deadshot told them, Ghost and Rick looked at each other before they turned back to  ‘She went radio silent?’ Ghost and Rick repeated, both their brows dropped. ‘Guys.’ Harley said, the group looked at her before they followed her pointed arm. ‘Please don’t -,” ‘Thought you guys knew how to get it?’ Your strained voice came through the comms as you sprinted across the grass covered mound.  ‘What are you doing?’  Soap quizzed, they watched as you ran across the grass, your muscles screamed out at you. ‘Trying to get the parcel that you all lost.’ You commented, your breath staggered. ‘You’re insane.’ Soap and Bloodshot replied, you gave out a strangled chuckle. ‘Known that for a while.’ They watched as you leapt onto the wing of the plane.  ‘Y/N?’ ‘Kinda busy Harley.’ You grunted out, you pulled yourself as upright as you could with the increasing wind. ‘Oh, I know but how you gonna get in?’ She asked, you dropped your head as the wind picked up before you grunted. ‘I’m hoping spending majority of my life on these things has let me learn something.’ You told her, your brows furrowed as you climbed along the wing, the wind attacked you. With a deep breath you slid down and landed on the small ledge next to the door, you ran your hand over the smooth surface before the small hatch popped open. Silently you cheered and slid in the opening and closed the door behind you. Cautiously you walked over to the crates that were secured with thick straps.  ‘Can you see them?’ Harley asked, you ignored her as booted footsteps sounded to your right. Quickly you hid behind a crate, the writing informed you that it was the one you were looking for, you pressed yourself close to it as you carefully removed the straps, the footsteps walked away before you stretched to the side and pulled the lever, the large door opened. Air rapidly filled the area and the men turned to you, their eyes wide. ‘Sorry fellas.’ You commented and pulled the parachute cord before they could fire. Your entire body was yanked backwards, your head connected with the missiles, and you grunted. The cold air wrapped around you as you dropped through the air before the parachute opened and you slowed down.

‘So, this is the famous Y/N, the one that managed to leave the suicide squad without being in a body bag.’ Andrew said, you arched an eyebrow, ‘Waller always talked about you as if you created the world.’ He said, his arm appeared from his back, the silver device held securely. ‘That’s me.’ You announced. ‘How’d you get out?’ You asked him, he tilted his head to the side as he looked at the others that lingered at the door. ‘You haven’t, you still have the implant?’ You corrected yourself, the corner of his lips jumped before he glanced to the group that stood behind you, some faces familiar to him. ‘Still got it but stopped it from sending a signal.’ He stated proudly, your brows furrowed as you looked at him, your focus was pulled to the burn marks either side of his head, just at his temples. ‘You electrocuted yourself?’ You asked, shocked that he had managed to survive the current it took to stop the transmission. ‘Only way that bitch would leave me alone.’ Andrew hissed out, you were still focused on the red blistered area. ‘It won’t stop her for long.’ You said, he nodded. ‘Oh I know, but it will delay her long enough.’ ‘For what?’ You quizzed, his lips pulled up into a lopsided smile.  ‘I needed to find away to get rid of Waller’s prize project.’ He reached into his pocket, you tensed before he pulled out a small device. The button on the top flashed red, he kept his finger hoovering over it, your stomach dropped, your eyes snapped around in before you noticed the wires that ran along the walls. ‘Shit.’ You cursed, Andrew looked pleased that you had spotted them. ‘The buildings going to collapse, get out.’ You whipped around to the team, Ghost and Soap’s head snapped around to you. ‘Y/N?’ Simon said, you ignored him and looked at Deadshot and Rick, Deadshot started to move instantly. ‘Rick get them out now.’ You said, you directed your attention to Rick and Harley, who looked conflicted but nodded. ‘Y/N?’ ‘Just go, I'll be behind you.’ You lied, Rick didn’t give him a chance to say anything before he started backing him up, herding him out the door.

‘Y/N.’ Simon and Soap called out, the cloud of dust had subsided enough now that they could see the rubble. There were mangled body parts that were far too damaged to be identified, the boys started to go towards the building in hopes that they could get you before a bit of rubble moved. They froze and watched as the rubble moved to the side, you stood up and wobbled, dirt and blood covered you along with new bruises. You looked around the area, taking in everyone before you shakily stepped forward. ‘How the fuck did you survive that?’ Soap asked, you looked at him blankly and blinked a few times. ‘I have powers.’ You breathed out, you lifted an arm and they all took in the very obvious bone that was protruding through the skin. ‘Shit, Y/N, you need to get that seen to.’ Soap stepped forward but you took a step back and turned to Harley. ‘Do me a favour?’ You asked her, she grimaced but nodded. She wrapped a hand around your wrist and took a step back, to steady herself. You looked at her and she nodded before she lifted a leg up and rested it against your hip, both of you pulled away from each other and it popped. Harley quickly dropped it and gagged at the sound as you exhaled, the pain was quick to subside before you twisted your arm to look at the closing wound. ‘I’m all good.’ You said, the pain had disappeared now, ‘We need to get going.’ You said, you bent down and pulled out your second weapon from your ankle holster, you checked it. ‘No.’ Ghost said, you turned and looked at him. ‘What the fuck have I just seen?’ He asked angrily, he stepped closer in an attempt to intimidate him but it didn’t work. ‘You want to know?’. You questioned, you stepped closer as you held eye contact with him. ‘Yeah.’ ‘I have powers, just like…’ you trailed off, none of the squad just now had any, ‘I don’t think I can be killed, at least not situations like these.’ You gestured to the crumbled building, that no one should’ve survived. ‘The suicide squad are a team, a task force but a lot of them have unique powers like mine.’ You continued, Soap and Ghost lifted their heads to looked at Harley, Rick and Deadshot. ‘Not us.’ The three of them said together. ‘They are all extremely talented but they don’t have powers, well we’re not too sure about Harley but you get it.’ ‘No, no we don’t get it.’ Ghost snarled, he grabbed your good wrist, ‘you kept this from us.’ ‘You didn’t ask about it.’ You retorted just as harshly, he stopped and glared at you, ‘I also haven’t hid it from you either.’ You yanked your hand from his grip. ‘What?’ ‘I can bench press more than Price almost more than you,’ you gestured to him, ‘the scars that decorate my body quite literally from head to toe, where’d you think I got them?’ You quizzed, they fell silent. ‘I understand that you are angry at me. We need to keep moving, they will be back and when they don’t find anybody it’ll be a hunt.’ You said, you twisted on your heel before you marched away, not waiting for anyone to join you.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Ghost asked, he broke the silence that had been going between the two of you for the last four hours, you turned and looked at him. ‘Because I know how the majority of people react.’ You said before you looked away.‘You know I’m not like them.’ He said, you shrugged and kept your attention on the chair across from you. ‘Yeah, I also know you don’t like liars.’ You reminded him. ‘Y/N.’ He breathed out, you quickly looked at him before you focused back on the chair. ‘Can you lift more than me?’ He quizzed, his elbows rested on his knees, he was far enough forward to see the corner of your lips quirk up. ‘If I wanted to.’ You told him as you turned. ‘Can you tell me how you got the powers?’ ‘Long story short?’ You asked, he nodded, ‘I was sold when I was seven, for a whopping total of a thousand pounds before I was shoved in a cage for the next three years.’ You explained, your fingers gripped at the side of your trousers. ‘Soap you can come in.’ You announced, Ghost turned to the door as it was pushed open to reveal his guilty face. ‘You’re not very sneaky.’ ‘Sorry.’ He said, he dipped low. ‘Don’t apologise, it should be me that does that.’ You shook your head at him. ‘How ‘bout everything is forgiven and we’re even?’ Soap suggested, you raised an eyebrow before the pair of you looked to Ghost who nodded, you exhaled as relief washed over you. ‘So, what else can you do?’ Soap questioned. ‘Soap?’ Ghost warned him. ‘Right, shutting up.’

Tags (everyone commented on previous post) - @ellie-shimmer @australias-soles @ritzynixi @hoe4munson @callmeluno @pansa-1-san @karmasawitch @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @totallynot-mac @tequila-coffee-things

#Suicide squad x reader #reader x suicide squad #suicide squad #Rick flag x reader #reader x Rick flag #cod mw2 #suicide squad x cod mw2 #ghost x reader #reader x ghost #simon ghost riley #Simon riley x reader #reader x Simon riley #Simon riley

[creepling]

digger harkness gives off bad tinder date vibes. your standards are so low that his weird charm and tattoos are enough to draw you in, and it ends with you walking home from the subway wondering what the fuck happened. you meet at a bar, he gets too drunk, insists that he's sober enough to drive then sends you a pic pulled over by the cops 2 hours later. okay, maybe the peace sign and having the cop in frame was a little funny, but you can't like him!!!! he's a slob, a bad influence!!!! u deserve better!!!! or maybe you should text him back....

#i shall ponder on this idea.... it has potential #digger harkness x reader #captain boomerang x reader #ssktjl #dc fanfic #suicide squad #drabble