#colonel flag

[reveluving]

the bump in the night ; rick flag x reader

summary: someone made Mrs Flag cry, and her family is not having it.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, shadow-magic f!reader, reverse comfort & humour!

a/n: this AU is based on this piece I made a while back, 'cause you already know I can't do this special without hubby Rick and the kids! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!

'For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.' ;

Coming home to his daughter's hugs had become an everyday thing if Rick didn't have to work overtime, but if the flicker of sadness in her eyes was anything to go by, something had to have happened while he was away.

“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” 

It was the same thing she told her brothers when they got home from school, and just like them, it was enough for Rick to get the whole picture.

Ah, Mrs Bedford. Or as the neighbourhood youngsters, children and teenagers alike, like to call her 'the modern witch of the road', and not in the cool way. Her husband was no better, always bugging you at any given opportunity. The worst part was Mrs Bedford always antagonized you for it, even if she knew you didn’t entertain her husband’s behaviour. It was also extremely hypocritical of her, considering she herself has tried to make her move on Rick. A lot. Only to be met with disappointment each time. 

Her children were just as bad, too, to put it lightly.

“What did she say?” It was the green light Irene needed before she explained what had happened to a T, courtesy of her father’s eagle eye. Unlike most days, it was just you and Irene visiting the park since your sons had football practice. 

The two of you were feeding the ducks when Mrs Bedford came up to you.

“You on your own?” Was the first thing she asked you before you questionably said ‘yes’, despite Irene being there too, and the little girl realized Mrs Bedford wouldn’t have gone off on a tangent about you and your ‘possibly tainted history’ if her father or brothers were around in the first place.

“I don’t know what you did but I can see it in your eyes, Flag. You’re no saint. You can fool the others with your little flower shop and your so-called angelic kids, but not me.”

Though Mrs Bedford knew nothing about your powers or your time in Belle Reve, instead, spewing hate out of jealousy and hatred for you for being the favourable neighbour, she wasn’t completely wrong. You have hurt people, you’ve even killed some, but they were for the greater good. Since your freedom from hell on earth, you’ve barely used your umbrakineses. It wasn’t until the birth of your children, to which all three of them gained your abilities did you realized you couldn’t run from who you really were—it wasn’t right nor fair to them.

Then, telling them your story as a criminal and how their dad was once your enemy was another thing. You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting, but it was certainly not amazement and sparkles in their eyes. As they grew older, they began to make sense of how their parents somehow knew people like Aunt Harley, Uncle Robert and hell, even Nanaue.

And at that point in time, Mrs Bedford reminded you of Waller, turning you into submission as you could do nothing but listen to her make a mockery out of you for turning over a new leaf. Irene had to watch your face drop as the woman insulted you, and she knew she had to tell her family about it. 

Irene insisted that she was fine about heading home early, even if you tried to convince her otherwise. She wanted nothing more than to do something about that glazed look in your eyes.

As soon as you stepped foot into the living room, a tear rolled down your cheek. You couldn't help but apologize to her, to everyone if they were with you then. You weren’t entirely sure if it was because you seemed weak over a bunch of words or their fate of ending up with you as the wife and a mother of their family.

Irene shook her head, hugging you with her face in your tummy.

"You're not a mean person, mama. You're the nicest and coolest mama we could ever ask for, and we love you." 

It was simple, something you've heard of thousands of times in your lifetime, but you very much needed it today.

Ever the sweet girl, she accompanied you as you lay in your bed, telling you random stories about what she painted during art class or what she ate at lunch, anything but the time Mrs Bedford’s son, Kyle pushed her off the swing while his older brother, Blake laughed and praised him for doing so. You didn’t need to know that. 

Not yet.

You listened with a warm smile, embarrassed but nonetheless thankful for how observant she was of your feelings before eventually dozing off. 

Irene was careful yet quick to jump off the bed, running downstairs to shush Richie and Ethan as they returned home. 

The more she explained, the brighter their eyes unnaturally glowed. Richie was starting to look like their father as he crossed his arms, listening to her like a police officer, while Ethan seemed like he was already thinking of ways to counter the Bedford’s undignified acts.

Basically, the Bedfords were not the greatest people. Each and every one of them. 

Though they had a myriad of ideas, they weren’t sure how much their father would appreciate it, even if it was for your sake. Still, they thanked Irene for being there for you, promising that something would be done, no matter what it would be.

For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.

After an unexpected nap, you came down to find your kids huddled on the couch, whispering and hushing each other. Curious, you approached them.

Ethan was the first to notice you, offering you a grin before showing you what was in their hands, “Look, ma, I think we got it.” 

You leaned in to take a closer look, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of life on their palms. There, they showed you the differing mass of shadows they conjured, a tougher one you just taught them about a week ago. You have always loved this trick as a kid, and it only aided your sanity when you were by your lonesome in the penitentiary. In a way, you were replacing what life truly was by making your own, even if they were temporary because there was no telling when or if you’d ever be free. 

Yet, here they were, prompting joy and pride as they held the wispy animals of their choice; Richie with what seemed to be an adorable little puppy, Ethan creatively emulated a bioluminescent jellyfish and Irene…

Oh, Irene.

She scarcely remembered how much you loved making her laugh by conjuring butterflies when she was still very little if not for the twins confirming it. 

The butterfly was as small as her hand, but the wings were majestic, idly flapping before flying over to you, leaving cloudy black trails and landing on your outstretched finger. 

You stared at their creations ever so lovingly, already on the brink of tears. You were just as mad at yourself for doubting your worth, and your potential, just because of the things you had to do in the past, for the sake of the person you were now.

You embraced Irene in a tight hug before pulling your boys in as well. You sniffled, absolutely joyous and blessed to be surrounded by the most loving people. Nothing could deter you from this, not even as the shadow puppy yipped and chased the jellyfish and butterfly in excitement. Your cat, Tofu, must’ve heard the commotion, too, as she came from the kitchen to check, only to be frightened and jump on the couch with you as the puppy came running to her.

Rick finally arrived about two hours later, coming home to hear laughter before he saw Irene running across the room, followed by Tofu and the shadow puppy in tow. The jellyfish laid on Richie’s head like a nest whereas the butterfly decided to make Ethan’s shoulder its home as they hung out with you on the couch.

“Daddy!” Irene greeted him before running over to him. He didn’t question the questioning look she gave him just yet and instead, hoisted her up, laughing as Tofu and the puppy pawed at his bootlaces.

“What’s going on here?” He raised his brows, amused by what could be described as a fever dream of a sight.

“The kids learnt how to make little lives.” You giggled, allowing Rick to sit next to you as you scooted over.

“And I got a new hat,” Richie gestured to the jellyfish, who he has now dubbed as Jelly. As if it understood, Jelly immediately floated away, leaving Richie’s hair flattened, “Never mind.”

You shared a laugh as he deadpanned before you turned to Rick, “Was work okay?”

“Yeah, the usual. Decorated the place today, actually.” He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery and showing you and the kids the spookily tacky decor that furnished his workplace.

“Did you really paint ‘dead inside, don’t open’ on the entrance door?” The twins gawked.

“Fitting, ain't it?” Rick joked, prompting smiles and chuckles from you once more before falling back on the couch, “But at least I’m off tomorrow, so I was thinking we could eat out for dinner.”

“Oh! We should head to Pop’s since they’re also offering their apple betty.” Ethan suggested.

“Well, I think that’s a good idea, so,” Richie trailed off, raising anticipation from the rest of you before jumping off the couch and running up the stairs. Ethan and Irene simultaneously gasped before the former took his sister out of Rick’s arms to chase their brother together. You and Rick could only watch with delight as Tofu and the shadow creatures followed them too.

“Everything okay?” He wanted to know, but he wouldn’t pry if you weren’t ready to tell him.

“Yeah,” You nodded, gazing down for a moment before continuing, “Something happened earlier but…”

“Richie! You better not lock the door or I swear to God!” Ethan’s voice rang out from upstairs, followed by Irene’s ‘language!’, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement. 

“It’s all good now.” You reassured him. You knew you could’ve told him, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on. You had children to nurture and a husband to take on the world with.

“The Bedfords?” He guessed. If it wasn’t them, then it had to be Mr Walker.

“The Bedfords,” You confirmed with a tight smile, “I’m just more upset that Irene was there to hear it.”

You didn’t explain any further and Rick took it as a sign to drop it. If they were able to make you this upset, then it was best to ask the kids instead. 

“I’m sorry,” He pulled you to his chest, planting a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead. He rubbed your back, sighing at the very mention of that family. Rick loathed that they were influential enough to be one of the higher-ups of the school’s PTA, though he was confident that money was involved in it too. He hated that they were reasons why you’d come home ranting about how Mrs Bedford bugged you again, or when he had to make sure Mr Bedford knew he was making a promise and not an empty threat whenever it involved their kids and his, "You know I can talk to them." 

It would do no good, but it was worth trying. 

"No, you know how the Bedfords are. Don’t worry, okay? Not now,” You kissed the inside of his palm before pressing your lips against his, soft, sensual and safe. Rick moved forward, deepening the kiss as held the nape of your neck. You pulled away but not before nuzzling his nose, “We should be celebrating.”

He nodded, though he knew it would only linger in his mind for a while. Still, he adhered to your wishes, standing up before offering you his hand to get ready, “Right, right. Shall we?”

You snorted, placing your hand in his the way a princess would when a prince asks for a dance. Unexpectedly, he twirled you around, wrapping his arms around you he pulled you in, chest to chest. You playfully smacked him, though it did very little to wipe off the pleased look on his face as the two of you headed to your room. 

You and the boys were the first to head out to the front yard, chatting and evaluating the decors of the houses while waiting for Rick and Irene. 

“What happened today?” He asked his daughter quietly as they stood at the front door, helping with her shoes while she slid on a jacket. 

“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” She whispered back, swinging her arms as she watched her father tie her shoelace, “Like, really mean stuff. No one was around except us so she was kinda loud, too.”

Rick fumed, clenching his jaw as he could already hear and picture whatever nonsense she loved to spit out. 

“Mama got kinda quiet when we came home, and then she started crying. About how she’s sorry she was a criminal and how we’re ‘stuck’ with her powers.” She added. If anything, she and the boys thought your abilities were the coolest thing to have ever happened to them. 

He shook his head—who wouldn't crack after being subjected to their ways for so long? He hummed, hiding the seething resentment by ruffling Irene's hair.

"Can you help me distract your mother while I talk to the boys for a bit?" She nodded diligently, skipping over to you before Rick called out to his sons, "Need some help, boys." 

They rushed over, glancing at you before Ethan spoke up first, "She told you?" 

"Yeah." Rick replied as he locked the door.

"Can't we do something about it?" Richie asked with a frown.

"You boys are not punching Blake again." Rick reminded them with a small smile. 

"You didn't seem to mind it," Ethan mirrored his father's amusement, "He was yelling at our teammate and encouraged his troll brother to push Irene off a swing." 

"I'm mad, too," Rick was more than mad, but he couldn't let his emotions run wild, "Look, we'll think of something, alright? For now, just make sure she's happy." 

That's all they ever wanted.

The drive to Pop's was a lively one, and so was the dinner itself. Though you knew you'd be thinking about Mrs Bedford's words every once in a while, the smiles and laughter of your family were already a welcoming distraction as it is. 

Midnight rolled around, and everyone had returned to their rooms with sore cheeks and a full stomach. You were the first to slip under the covers after a shower, hoping you wouldn't be too tired as you waited for Rick, though it didn't work.

By the time Rick got out of the bathroom, you were peacefully asleep, your face just a breath away from your husband's pillow as his scent soothed you like no other. 

Rick smiled to himself, changing into his PJs before sitting on your side of the bed. The dip roused you from your slumber just a little.

"Rick?" You murmured, fluttering your lashes tiredly.

"Forgot to get some water," He caressed your cheek before bending down to kiss it, "I'll be back." 

You mustered a closed-eye smile and before you knew it, you drifted off once again, lulled by the way he patted your back.

Once the coast was clear, he moved off the bed, silently slipping out and closing the door before heading over to the twins' room. He knocked on the door, just enough for them to hear before doing the same with Irene's door and headed downstairs.

Rick sat down at the dining table with a glass of cold water, arms crossed and lost in his own thoughts before hearing light footsteps approaching.

Richie, Ethan and Irene carefully pulled their chairs back before taking a seat, and just like that, the discussion began.

But it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere and at some point, they just started shit-talking.

"Man, I wish coach would just kick Blake out." Ethan groaned, his head falling back. 

"Tell me about it. He's shit at quarterback." Richie clicked his tongue.

"Boys." Rick warned them, partially because his youngest was listening.

"Sorry." They apologized but Irene didn't seem to mind.

"How about…" She chimed in, tapping her finger on her chin, "We scare them?" 

"Like…?" Richie cocked his head, hoping she'd say more than just that.

"I don't know, I just thought it'd be cool since it's Halloween and stuff. And, well, maybe we could use our powers, but I know mama and daddy wouldn't want that." She shrugged, pouting because she hadn't thought it far enough.

"It would be a miracle to scare them without using our powers in the first place," Richie sighed, looking over to his father, "What do you think, dad?" 

No reply.

"Dad?" Ethan followed suit as the three of them raised their brows.

“How far are you in your shadow puppet practice?” Rick asked out of the blue, staring ahead as though imagining whatever idea he had played out. 

“Uh, pretty far, I think? Ma taught us how to merge our shadows into one if we wanted to make a bigger animal.” Richie answered, earning affirmative nods from his siblings. 

“How big?” 

“Like, this big!” Irene opened her arms wide to let him know just how big of a monster they would be able to make if they wanted to. They haven’t, there was no reason to, but the more their father asked, the more it piqued their interest.

Rick thought it through for a moment. It has been a while since he has seen you make that one particular lifeform, but it was worth a shot. If it were able to render Waller speechless, then it’ll definitely make the Bedfords piss their pants. 

No actual attacks, and definitely no killings. But he’ll make sure they shudder at the mere thought of Halloween. Put the fear of God in them. They had it coming, too, stomping on other neighbours’ happiness for years just for the fun of it. 

He just had to play it safe. 

He slowly broke into a sinister smile.

“You three ever heard of a hellhound?”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

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

[lacontroller1991]

Bull Ride (Rick Flag x F!Reader)

Main Master List || DC Master List

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

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

-----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Enjoy the show?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

==========

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

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[lady-murderess]

SUICIDE SQUAD (2016) | DAVID AYER

[loverhymeswith]

For the follower celebration, how about Rick Flag, forced proximity, fluff, and office. 💖

Office Space | Rick Flag x F!Reader

Follower Celebration

Summary: Rick doesn't like sharing his space

Word Count: 1.6k words

A/N: Thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer for the request, beta-reading and the suggestion for the ending! 💖

In the five years that he had been working for ARGUS, Rick Flag had never once needed to share his office space. He was a private person, choosing to keep to himself outside of missions, and the small room located on the east wing of Belle Reve suited him perfectly. Everything was just how he liked it and – most importantly – he was situated far enough away from the rest of the staff that he was rarely bothered by their mindless gossip and childish games.

It stood to reason then, that one Monday morning when Amanda Waller dropped by unceremoniously to announce he was going to have company, Rick was less than impressed. Five years was plenty of time for him to become stuck in his ways settled, and he did not relish the thought of having to adapt to a change in circumstance. He dealt with plenty of that out in the field. Surely he should be allowed this one small comfort.

Peering around Waller’s imposing figure, Rick had found that the young woman in question hadn't looked particularly pleased by the arrangement either. In fact, she had seemed quite alarmed to learn she would be sharing such close quarters with Rick. Perhaps it was the permanent scowl etched across his tired face that scared her, or maybe it was the thinly veiled contempt he so clearly held for the Director of Task Force X. Either way, in that moment Rick’s feelings on the matter were crystal clear. As far as he was concerned, this was obviously some kind of ploy by Waller, a punishment for some minor transgression that he had long since forgotten about. 

Indeed, not bothering to introduce the two colleagues, Waller had simply ushered the woman inside and, with a smirk capable of curdling milk, she’d met Rick’s gaze across the room, adding, "I'm sure the colonel will make you feel right at home.”

Rick had chosen to ignore the woman’s weak smile as Waller departed. In fact, he had already decided not to speak to his new office mate if he could help it, proceeding to answer her tentative questions with curt responses as he kept his attention fixed on the screen before him. He wasn’t there to play babysitter. Besides, if she couldn’t figure out how to request additional office furniture, or where to find the stationery supplies, she definitely wasn’t going to last long working for Waller. 

A small, spiteful part of Rick had been tempted to tell her as much.

To say that Rick had been less than accommodating would have been an understatement; so much so that he had half expected the woman to be long gone by the time he got to work the following morning. But it seemed she had arrived bright and early. Her new desk had been delivered and she was so engrossed in whatever she was typing, that she hadn’t even looked up when Rick walked in. Well, Rick had thought to himself, at least she’s a fast learner.

Fast forward to nearly six months later and the situation hadn’t changed. Despite their unspoken agreement to ignore one another at all costs, Rick felt a constant and, at times, inexplicable annoyance towards his office companion. He hadn’t bothered to learn anything about her, other than a couple of general observations: he had quickly surmised that she was Waller’s new admin assistant (the latest in a long line), and that she was quiet and kept to herself even outside of their shared four walls. He rarely saw her interact with the rest of the staff unless she was running errands for their boss, which by all accounts was a frequent occurrence.

Returning from a mission late one evening, Rick needed to swing past the office to collect some personal belongings. It was rapidly approaching midnight and except for the team who had been running the mission, the operations wing of Belle Reve was abandoned. Or so Rick thought until he spotted the soft glow of light coming from beneath the office door. Reassured by the weight of the twin glocks tucked safely inside his shoulder holster, he pushed open the door.

Once his eyes adjusted to the low lighting, he spotted his office mate sitting at her desk, pouring over a ream of paper and chewing agitatedly on the lid of her pen.

"What're you still doin' here?" He grunted, irritated to find that once again, he was not alone. After spending the last three days in close confinement with Harley Quinn and Digger Harkness, Lord knows he needed some personal space.

When she did not respond immediately, Rick called her name, the sound of which proved enough to startle her. Though he had at the very least bothered to learn her name, he tended to avoid using it at all costs.

She jumped out of her seat, eyes widening at the unexpected intrusion.  "Sorry…I'm just… I’m finishing up some work."

"Can't it wait till the mornin'?" It was only as Rick approached his own desk that he noticed her eyes were wet and rimmed with red.

She shook her head miserably. "This is the fourth version of my report. If I don't have it on Waller’s desk by seven am tomorrow, it's over. My probation period has almost ended and she'll fire me for sure.” She pressed her knuckles into her forehead and sighed dejectedly. “I just can't get it right."

Unexpectedly, Rick felt a twinge of regret forming within his chest. The sum of their interactions might start and end at exchanging the odd curt message, but if he was completely honest, he was becoming used to her quiet presence. The thought of her being replaced with someone louder and more obtrusive didn’t sit particularly well with him.

“Fourth version, huh?” He hesitated at the edge of his desk, his hand just inches away from the bag he had come to retrieve. He could be in and out of the room in a matter of seconds, but something caused him to pause. 

Perhaps it was simply pity because he knew all too well the games that Waller liked to play, or maybe it was something else – something he found in her tear-stained expression –  but at that moment Rick found himself unable to walk away. Rounding the corner of the desk, he held out his hand. “Let me see.”

Her fretful eyes widened and she seemed to freeze, clearly taken aback by such an uncharacteristic gesture. When she didn’t immediately respond, Rick shrugged off his holster and laid it on his desk.  

“Let me read through the report. I’ve written God knows how many of these things. Maybe I can help.” He had a sneaking suspicion that there was probably nothing wrong with the report, but it wouldn’t hurt to confirm.

“You - you’d do that?” The look of surprise hadn’t left her face, but she gingerly reached out and offered him the paper. “It’s almost midnight.”

“S’not like I’ve got anywhere else to be.” It was a half-truth. He could have been heading home by now, but there was no one waiting for him back at his one-bedroom apartment, and the adrenaline from the mission guaranteed that sleep would evade him for at least another twelve hours.

“I don’t want to be a nuisance,” she continued to protest, but he had already tugged the report out of her grasp.

“Just do me a favour and order take-out.” He met her bemused expression with a rare smile. “I’ve barely eaten for three days.”

By the time the food arrived, Rick had finished his read-through of the report and his findings were just as he suspected. “Waller’s testin’ you,” he announced as she placed a carton of noodles before him. “There’s nothin’ wrong with your original report and the only way you’re gonna get an ounce of respect from that woman is if you stand up to her. You want my advice?”

Settling back into her chair, his companion nodded. She had been quiet – almost on edge, in fact – while he read, and even with this tentative alliance in place, Rick could tell she was still wary of him. That was fair. One small favour wasn’t exactly going to change her feelings towards him.

Clearing his throat, Rick shuffled the pages into a neat pile on the corner of his desk. “My advice is that you present her with the original report. Be confident. Tell her you checked over the details and you’re sure that they’re correct. Don’t let her faze you.” He pointed to the stack of paperwork. “Hell, this is better than 90% of the reports I write for her. She should be damn grateful to have you onboard.”

A smile slowly crept across her face. “Thanks Rick. I really appreciate your help.”

Rick merely grunted in response before diving into his food. The two of them quickly lapsed back into silence, but the knot of tension in his stomach had loosened.

Despite his late night and definitive lack of sleep, Rick was at Belle Reve for seven AM the next morning. Though he would never admit it, he was anxious to find out how his office mate had fared with presenting her report to Waller. He would consider himself at least partly responsible if things had not gone well, and as much as he might have desired to reclaim the office for himself, he definitely didn’t want anyone to get fired. 

“Flag! Wait up! You are never going to believe this!” 

Sleep-deprived and battling a host of conflicting emotions, he had barely made it past security when he found himself being accosted by Economos. 

“What do you want, John?” Rick grumbled, trying to side-step his over-exuberant colleague.

“I can’t believe you missed it!”

“Missed what?”

Economos was practically bouncing on his heels, a wide grin spread across his face. “The new girl! You should have seen her standing up to Waller. It was incredible!”

In spite of his lack of caffeine, and the fact that he would be sharing his office space for some time to come, Rick Flag couldn’t help but smile.

Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @babblydrabbly @heresathreebee @phoenixhalliwell @weallhaveadestiny @11thstreetvigilante @lavenderluna10 @immyownlittlebitch @indig0nebula @katjnordstrom96 @kirsteng42 @littlefreakingfangirl @s-u-t @xoxabs88xox @lacontroller1991 @mayhem24-7forever

[blackbat05]

A beardful

Rick Flag x Reader

A/N: Wow… once I’m fixated… I’m fixated…

Genre: PG-13, master of fluff (I like to think)

Notes: A short piece in which Dad Rick attempts to get closer to the newest addition of the family - even if it means shaving his beloved beard…

“Hey darlin?”

You poke your head out of the kitchen to see your husband frowning at the mirror.

“What’s up?”

“Should I shave?”

You raised your brows at the unexpected question. “Well, where did that come from?”

Rick turns to you. “Robin isn’t letting me give him kisses or come near him for that matter,” he glumly tells you about his failed misadventures with the family’s newest addition. “I think it’s the beard.”

You take a look at your husband. Honestly, you didn’t mind the lumberjack look he had. In fact, you adored the slightly grizzly man in front of you.

“Give it time honey, maybe Robin hasn’t got used to that feeling. Besides, I think you look hot.” You purred, walking closer to him.

“You sure have a way with words.”

“You know I’m right.”

Rick sighs. “But either way, I’m going to make sure Robin gives me that kiss before he’s completely under DuBois charms.”

You couldn’t imagine the former marksman once notorious for his brutality trying to compete with your husband to get your newborn’s attention. Now that was something you needed to see.

***

As you chopped the vegetables in the kitchen, you made cooing noises at the baby who was inside the playpen at the living room. Robin giggles, before rolling around with his stuffed hamster plushie that Cleo had gifted.

The door opens, and you prepare for the onslaught of what were to be your twins, husband and Robert.

“Mama! Mama!” Your twins yell in unison. Like the little cannonballs they are, they almost ran face first into you.

“Woah! What’s the rush there Lightning McQueens?” You set your knife aside to see the identical gleeful looks on their faces.

“Papa shaved! It’s so smooth now! Like the ice rink you took us to last winter!” Freya, the more descriptive of the two starts to pull you by your apron.

True enough, behold a cleanly shaven Rick Flag grinning at you.

“Well look at you! You clean up nicely.”

Robert sets the shopping bags on the table. “Let’s just hope little bugger recognizes his old man here.” You let out snort as you removed your apron.

“Let’s put that to the test shall we?”

As the two men busied themselves in the kitchen, you went back into the living room to retrieve Baby Robin who was babbling at you happily.

“Come on big boy,” you stretched into the playpen to scope him out. “Papa’s back home.”

At the mention of Papa, Robin’s eyes lit up. The little boy clapped his chubby hands happily, squirming around in your arms.

“Where’s my little Prince?” Rick’s southern drawl came behind the fridge as you walked into the kitchen to sit Robin on his high chair. Robert waits beside you with bated breath of this unpredictable outcome.

Robin gurgles, hands waving around as if to signal his father of his presence. Rick finally closes the fridge door and the two make eye contact.

“Hey buddy!”

Robin blinks, and starts looking around causing Rick to be confused.

“Whatcha looking for bud? Papa’s over here.”

But Robin sees you and reaches out with grabby hands. You decided to try a new approach. Lifting his chubby body out of the seat, you walk over to Rick.

“Papa’s here Robin!”

It’s hilarious really, from Robert’s point of view as he sees the poor little chap not recognizing his cleanly shaven father. Lips wobbling at the thought of being whisked away by a stranger, your baby boy starts to burst into sobs.

You rock him back and forth, hushing him with soothing noises.

“That’s not a scary man, that’s your Papa!”

Robin doesn’t seem to be able to process this as his cries bounces off the walls.

“Alright there chap! Come on lemme hold you for a second.” Robert takes his godson from your arms, turning Robin’s body to face him while the two of you stood by.

When Robin realized that he was being held by his favorite uncle, the cries had slowly subsided.

“Well would you look at that!” Robert guffaws. “Knew you were something ya little bugger!”

Robin reaches out a hand to feel Robert’s beard, breaking out into giggles. You figured your husband would need much comforting after seeing the sight in front of him.

“My old friend. I knew it when he saved me back then in the battle of Qurac.” He tells you glumly. “I knew that god would make me pay Robert back one day. I never knew it would be this cruel.” Rick shuffles over to you with puppy dog eyes before burying himself in your shoulder.

“Aw… come on, it’s not that bad.” You and Robert make eye contact and you try your hardest not to laugh. “Give it a little time.”

You wished you had said that a little earlier for Robin gives a huge smooch at Robert’s request. Rick gives you a dead stare, daring you to refute him.

“Okay… maybe I stand corrected.” And the two of you break into laughter in front of a very dismayed husband and a confused baby.

[hjbirthdaywishes]

November 25, 2023

Happy 44 Birthday to Joel Kinnaman.

[bludhavents]

Stay Decent

pairing: rick flag x reader

warnings: none.

word count: 1.2k

summary: keeping your relationship hidden from the team can lead to arguments--fun, staged arguments.

"Pardon me," You exclaimed, reaching out to lay a hand on Mrs Abrasio's upper back as you passed her, slyly snaking the other into her purse. In the crowd of rich donors chatting amongst themselves, you managed to snag both her cash and her notepad from her purse in a second without being caught.

"Excuse me," She replied sweetly. "I shouldn't have been standing there, my apologies."

"No worries, ma'am. I really like your dress by the way!" You complimented her with a smile before continuing your walk outside to the van where Rick and the Squad were waiting for you.

Before Task Force X left Belle Reve, Waller decided that the best bet would be to send you in alone, not to draw suspicion. Events like these were dangerous--full of shady, wealthy people who may easily recognize somebody like Harley or Blackguard from previous encounters. You, on the other hand, wore a mask when you committed your crimes before Belle Reve, making you the sole candidate for this mission.

"Y/n, if I don't hear an update in the next three minutes, I'm coming in," Rick's voice cut in over the comms. He was in the front of the van, tightening the black tie around his neck as he prepared to rescue you when there was no reply to his warning. Just as he began opening the door, though, you stepped out with a deep sigh.

"Sorry I couldn't answer. Too crowded in there--someone would've noticed me talking to myself," You said as soon as the door shut and it was just the two of you outside, chatter from within the ballroom muffled now.

"Thank god," He muttered, loosening the tie before removing it completely. "You got what we needed?" The two of you walked back to the van, Rick standing unusually close to you.

"Yes, Colonel." You held out the notebook for him to examine. The cash stuffed in your handbag was yours, he didn't need to know about that. "Christ, this fabric is itchy." Your hands tugged at the fabric of the linen dress, trying to keep it from rubbing against your neck.

Rick looked up from the notebook and surveyed you up and down before shrugging off his suit jacket and tossing it to you.

"Here," He said plainly, turning his back to you so that you could change into it. You caught it and stared at it blankly for a long moment, alternating glances between the back of Rick's head and the jacket.

"That's very sweet, Rick, but I don't think this is going to cover me," You spoke to the back of his head, watching as he turned around to face you. You were holding the jacket up to your neck, showing him that it would barely brush the waist band of your underwear, nonetheless cover your ass.

"Just put it on and get in the front seat, I'll find a blanket or something to put on your legs," He said, pushing himself off of the hood of the van and moving to the opposite side to rummage through the glovebox in search of a way to salvage your decency before another member of the squad decided to take a peek.

You smirked to yourself as you put the coat on and then awkwardly tried to shimmy out of the dress while staying covered. The zipper in the back was tricky, but you managed to get it undone and slipped the dress into a pool at your feet, stepping out of it and leaving it on the ground. No way were you going to touch that fabric again. You followed Rick's orders and went to sit in the passenger's seat of the van where he waited outside the door with a loading tarp in his hands and an embarrassed blush on his cheeks.

"This was all I could find," He muttered, motioning for you to sit down as he tucked the tarp in around you.

"Thank you, Rick," You smiled, patting him on the head playfully. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Harley's voice from the back cabin.

"Are we leavin' or what?" She banged on the divider. "I got plans, bozos!"

"What plans, Quinn? You're in prison," You shouted back, Rick's face still close to yours.

"I'm itchin to get a looksie at what you promised to bring me earlier," She called teasingly, earning you a questionable stare from Rick. Your eyes grew slightly and you let out a nervous chuckle.

"Alright, Quinn, don't get your panties in a twist!" You pounded back on the divider.

"You're the only one who makes me feel that way, dollface!" She snorted. You rolled your eyes and smiled widely, but it went away at the feeling of Rick's hand on your leg.

"You doing something I need to know about?" He asked sternly, but the glint in his eye told you that he already knew about the cash. Of course he did, how could you have assumed any differently?

"Of course not," You fiend innocence. "How could I ever betray my sweet, sweet Colonel Flag?" He watched closely as you moved to place your hands on either side of his face, arms otherwise lost in the fabric of his coat.

"I can't be serious with you," He sighed out, leaning into your touch minutely. You smiled and rubbed a thumb mindlessly over his cheekbone.

"Guess I shouldn't kiss you then, huh? Wouldn't want you to laugh in my face or anything," You said, searching his eyes despite your carefree tone.

"I think it'd be good practice," Rick whispered before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He pulled away after a moment and leaned his forehead against yours, eyes trailing down the skin of your neck and chest.

"Eyes up here, Flag," You teased before grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling him in for another kiss. You broke it this time, pushing him away dramatically. He stumbled back from the van and furrowed his brows at you, concern painting his face. "We gotta get back to Belle Reve, Flag. Unless we want one of them seeing us," You whispered the last part.

"Y/n, are you doing something I should know about or not?" Rick shouted in his Colonel's voice, but the smile you saw on his lips betrayed him. He was putting on a show for the others, making them think that the two of you have been arguing this whole time.

"I said that's none of your business, Flag!" You kissed him one last time, grinning giddily against his lips. "If you want to know so badly then ask Waller, she's had eyes on me like a fucking hawk since I got here!"

"Maybe it's cause you're trouble, idiot!" Rick yelled back at you once he was in his seat.

"I miss regular prison," You said as you bit back a smile, slumping into your seat in case Harley or the others decided to open the view window.

"If you were in regular prison you'd have never met me," Blackguard called from the cabin and slid open the view window to face you with an offended expression. "I thought we were closer than this, Y/l/n."

"We met in high school, Hertz," You reminded him. "Go sit back down and let me yell at the Colonel."

"Roger that," He said as he shut the door.

[mistergovernmentagent]

"Look, I'm pretty sure we're all used to the weird shit Waller dumps on us by now. So, he's a weasel... Get over it and move on. We got shit to do."

[violetmuses]

Home, Sweet Home - Rick Flag

TITLE: Home, Sweet Home || Rick Flag 

FANDOM: “Suicide Squad” Film Universe

CHARACTER: Colonel Richard “Rick” Flag 

PAIRING: Rick Flag + Female Reader 

MAIN STORYLINE: When Rick finally comes back home from another stressful mission, all he wants is to see you smile again. 

Author’s Note: Hi! This quick drabble is dedicated to @lacontroller1991. We love you and thanks for everything. - V. 💜

"Parachute" Universe Masterlist 💛

Main Masterlist 💜

__________

2021 

You’re dancing in the bedroom alone while he stands in that door’s threshold. It isn’t long before he puts down his travel bag and crosses both arms, noticing you. 

“Partying without me? Where’s the cooler, darling?” He chuckles to himself as soon as you glance over one shoulder and gape. The biggest smile reaches your face. You then cut off the music, almost running towards him. 

As he embraces you for the first time in months, you’re short enough that your own face can only reach the middle of his clothed chest.

“Hey, Baby.” Smiling again, you look upward towards this beautiful man, hoping to notice those perfect hazel eyes once more. You’ve committed them to memory for the rest of your own life.  

“Missed you.” He clips his words and lifts you in the bridal-style way, no longer allowing your steps to even move along that bedroom’s carpeted floor. That Southern drawl first killed you. Not to mention that an old-time charm lined his manners, rare nowadays.  

“Missed you too.” You tell him right back. In an effort to keep holding him, you wrap both arms around his neck and lean inward, guiding his lips straight towards your own. 

He’s home. Safe and sound. You think to yourself. 

[muchadorks]

M*A*S*H 4077 During Covid

Hawkeye is going stir-crazy being stuck and isolated. His contributions to the “socially distanced” movement include a long-range alcohol distiller that can dispense two drinks six feet apart, a card-dealing machine that can deal the cards from a safe distance (while also giving him an upper hand in what cards he wants, shh), and socially distanced pranks (sorry Frank)

Trapper gets so desperate that he makes a full-body condom complete with a filtered breathing hole to ensure no sickness. Nothing stands between this man and his favourite activity. Nothing.

BJ is writing home all the time to check how Peg and the kids are doing – he’s so concerned whenever one of them gets sick that Hawkeye has had to physically tied him to his bed to stop him from pacing around the Swamp

Frank is absolutely an antivaxxer and conspiracy theorist. Seriously, you can trick him into believing anything. He does, however, loves the new rules and regulations and enforces them whenever possible (though Hawkeye always gets under his skin enough to get Frank in trouble of almost breaking social distancing). When he gets the weakest possible case of Covid, he absolutely believes he is dying and begs Margaret to nurse him back to health

Margaret is stressed to the max – she is overworked, overtired, and somehow has decided that she needs to master 16 different lockdown hobbies before the new normal despite having even less time than before

Donald Penobscot claims to have gotten vaccinated before he comes to visit Margaret, but he’s deathly afraid of needles. When Margaret finds out about his lie, she finally has an excuse to stab him (for medical reasons only of course – not like she is taking out any emotional frustration…)

Winchester has read every single research paper on Covid and is quick to correct anyone who states a fact possible wrong. Seriously, this man insists on rewriting all of the rules every time a new research paper comes out. Hawkeye and BJ pretend to be conspiracy theorist for a while just to drive him mental

Colonel Potter believes that perhaps this lockdown and social distancing will finally allow him to get some peace and quiet. And then he remembers that he is a doctor. And now he apparently has to start locking the Ivermectin for his horse because some idiot is trying to steal it (or whatever the 1950 equivalent is since it was only invented in 1975)... He is currently considering telling Mildred that he will be retiring early

Henry Blake freaks out the moment he hears about the pandemic. He can’t even imagine all the paperwork that will need to be created (Radar’s already made copies and labelled them), the protocols that need to be put in place (Radar’s drafts are simply pending approval via Henry’s signature), and not to mention that his alcohol supply is already running terribly low (Radar has been hiding away some to ration Henry’s drinking, but thankfully he thought ahead to order more before the supply chain completely gave out)

Father Mulcahy is currently broadcasting Sunday mass over the PA system. It’s not his favourite medium for liturgy but at least it’s something. He is getting concerned about how he suddenly needs between locks for the ceremonial wine compared to usual though…

Klinger pulls schemes twice a day insisting that he has Covid – but not just any Covid! This strain is deadly, so deadly that the only cure can be found in Toledo, Ohio. When he does get Covid, he is asymptomatic and just stuck in insolation for two weeks (at least he has more time to work on his dresses…)

Radar is definitely freaking out. He’s not sure whether he should wear a hazmat suit or if his bear needs to be the one wearing it. He’s trying to keep the camp in order, but this is definitely not making things easier

Zale suggests every type of “Covid prevention” practice you can think of (he definitely tried to steal Colonel Potter’s Ivermectin). As for them working though, well… the doctors have requested someone watch his actions 24/7 because they are sick of seeing him and his new medical emergency

Colonel Flag is an antivaxxer. Actually, no, that’s just a cover for him to infiltrate the antivaxxer society and learn what their motives are (for what is anyone’s game, really). Except, no, he’s just trying to get chummy with the doctors and trick them into revealing what they are really putting the vaccines. Only, no, he’s actually…

Sidney is observing the madness from a distance, sighing, and stating that this is seems like a normal reaction for the M*A*S*H 4077 to be having

[psychobatman97]

Got the suicide squad the other day here's a few panels

Suicide Squad #10 (1988)

Suicide Squad #15 (2013)

Suicide squad #22 (2013)

Suicide Squad : rebirth #1 (2016)

Suicide Squad: War Crimes #1 (2016)

Suicide Squad #16 (2017)

Suicide Squad #20 (2017)

Suicide Squad #14 (2018)

[reveluving]

hold me closely ; rick flag x reader

summary: 'cool, calm & collected' is how many describe the Flags, and they're right. to a certain degree, at least. (a.k.a some of your & Rick's favourite convos in the family group chat)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff & humour (ft twin sons Ethan & Richie, daughter Irene & Tofu the cat!)

a/n: made sumn for my rick babes (+ s/o to my girl @lacontroller1991​ for the cutest hubby rick ask??? ily) so enjoyed imagining what it’s like to be his wifey and mother of kids eeee <33 love y’all!! don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

disclaimer!! despite the face claims (joy from rv btw) & running theme here, you are highly encouraged to imagine yourself or your oc as the MC however you see fit!

» wanna read more rick flag fics or anyone by joel kinnaman? check out my j.k. m.list!

↳ january 19th ༉‧₊˚✧

me 🌸 : how's Tofu, kids?

richie : [ sent 3 photos ]

mister e : pretty gud mom

me 🌸 : ??? the last photo??

my beloved ❤️ : @.mister e what did we tell you about putting Tofu on your head

mister e : i told richie it was a bad idea but he didn’t listen 😔

richie : ??? u literally suggested the idea??? 🤨

↳ march 21st ༉‧₊˚✧

me 🌸 : have u guys seen the package i brought in this morning? i ordered a pillow for your sister

richie : [ sent 3 photos ]

richie : dw we gave it to her already

mister e : Tofu also conquered the box just so you guys know

↳ june 5th ༉‧₊˚✧

my beloved ❤️ : store’s got vanilla ice cream but it’s not the one you asked for. is it still okay @.me 🌸?

me 🌸 : more than okay! tq ❤❤

mister e : nvm we bought like, 9 different kinds

mister e : [ sent 3 photos ]

me 🌸 : ? how???

richie : dad drove us to four different stores lol

my beloved ❤️ : i still don't think it's enough

↳ july 4th ༉‧₊˚✧

richie: [ sent 3 photos ]

[ my beloved ❤️ reacted with a ‘ ❤️ ’ ]

[ mister e reacted with a ‘ 🎉 ’ ]

[ you reacted with a ‘ 🥰 ’ ]

↳ july 22nd ༉‧₊˚✧

richie : what do you guys call a fake noodle?

me 🌸 : what?

richie : an impasta

[ my beloved ❤️ has removed richie from the group ]

me 🌸 : RICK

my beloved ❤️ : it’s a little funny, i admit

mister e : heh

my beloved ❤️ : you wanna join your brother, too?

mister e : no sir 🚶

↳ august 6th ༉‧₊˚✧

mister e : [ sent 3 photos ]

mister e : richie, irene and i @ the aquarium + ice-cream and bookstore after

[ you and my beloved ❤️ reacted with a ‘ ❤️ ’ ]

richie : hope the dinner’s going well!

me 🌸 : [ sent 2 photos ]

my beloved ❤️ : [ sent 2 photos ]

my beloved ❤️ : it's going amazing. thank you boys 😌

» juuust in case you're still confused: 'my beloved ❤' is Rick, 'mr e' is Ethan & 'richie' is, well, Richie!

» ❛ fun lil’ trivia about the flags ༉‧₊˚

Irene and the twins have an eight-year age gap!

Richie’s full name is Richard Flag the Third.

Although identical, Richie has certain mannerisms that resemble his father. The same case applies to Ethan, the younger twin, who picks up more of your quirks. Despite that, Richie, usually the photographer of the group, encourages (and even adds to) Ethan’s odd photo ideas.

Sporty ahh kids. All three of them. Need I say more?

» gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[lacontroller1991]

Branded (Rick Flag x GN!Reader)

Main Master List || DC Master List

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

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

from this prompt list

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

===========

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

===========

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[lady-murderess]

I really didn't like making this, it was so much hassle. But here, have the husband ✨

[loverhymeswith]

Summer Lovin' | Rick Flag x Nurse!Reader

Summary: The summer edition of 'Tis the Season.

Warnings: Language, Rick Flag in swim shorts, Harley and Boomer are a warning in themselves...

Word Count: 5,717 words

A/N: Thank you to @babblydrabbly for the prompt, and @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta-reading! <3

Masterlist

Standing at the bow of the catamaran, watching as the sun begins its slow descent below the horizon of the crystal blue Aegean Sea, you take a sip of champagne and lean back into the warmth of the firm body behind you.

You’d never believed in perfect moments until you met Rick Flag. That sort of thing was reserved for Hallmark movies and other people’s lives. Certainly not your own. But everything changed on that fateful day when Rick was wheeled onto your ward, and you’ve never looked back.

Since then, the two of you have enjoyed plenty of your very own perfect moments. Sneaking out to watch the New Year’s Eve fireworks together on the hospital roof; reuniting in that same spot three months later and sharing your first kiss; the day Rick finally moved into your tiny apartment, where you celebrated with take-out and cheap wine, and he told you he loved you for the very first time.

And of then course, there’s right now.

“It’s so beautiful,” you marvel as Rick’s hand finds its way to your waist. Surrounded by the seemingly endless ocean, the view belongs on a postcard. It’s hard to believe this sliver of paradise is real. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe that Rick is real.

The trip to Greece had been Rick’s idea. An old friend of his owns a property on one of the small islands and he had whisked you away as a surprise. After taking extra shifts at the hospital to help save up for a bigger place, God knows you were in need of a break. A week away from work, with nothing but the sun, sea and Rick for company sounded like your idea of heaven and so far, it hasn’t disappointed.

You feel Rick lean forward, brushing his lips against the column of your throat. His breath is warm and sweet from the sparkling wine. “I hadn’t noticed.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your mouth as he pulls you closer, his broad hand applying the slightest amount of pressure to your waist.

“Don’t tell me this view is boring you?” you tease softly at his not-so-subtle move.

As content as you would be to stand here and admire the breath-taking view all evening, one thing during this trip has become painfully clear: while the slower pace of life has been a welcome change for you, Rick Flag was never built to relax.

You noticed it earlier today whilst watching him from the comfort of your sun lounger, sunglasses hiding the fact that you couldn’t take your eyes away from his body. And who could blame you? It had taken some gentle encouragement on your part before Rick was comfortable removing his shirt away from the privacy of your villa. Almost a year has passed since his injury and the operation that followed, but the scar across his chest has yet to fade. To ease his mind, you’d found a secluded spot on the beach, away from prying eyes and curious gazes, assuring him that scars or no, he is perfect to you. With a shy smile he'd allowed you to unbutton his shirt.

If you had your way, it would have remained off for the rest of the vacation.

Especially now that three days into the trip, his supple skin has turned golden in the sun. Combined with the muscle that’s gradually returning since he left the hospital, he looks more and more like one of the ancient Greek statues with each passing day. He’d laughed when you told him this, the sound like music to your ears.

But today, as your gaze travelled over his tanned, muscular thighs on display beneath his swim shorts, you realised his legs were bobbing anxiously, the paperback you brought along for him lying unopened by his feet.

Having been hospital bound for the best part of four months, you realised you could hardly blame him for feeling restless. In his position, the last thing you'd want to do is spend your free time on a bed of any description. Your suggestion of taking a walk to the marina was met with a grateful smile and when his face lit up at the poster advertising a sunset champagne cruise this very evening, you resolved to find more exciting ways to fill your vacation.

Carefully, Rick spins you around to face him. His hazel eyes are sparkling as they catch the last of the sun’s warm rays.  Running your hand along his white button-down shirt and feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart, your own chest tightens with love for the beautiful man beside you. You wish you could capture this moment and bottle it forever.

“I’m not bored,” he assures you with a wry smile, covering your wandering hand with his own. “Just wonderin’.”

Intrigued, you arch an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

“What did I do to deserve you, darlin’?”

Your heart flutters, even as you try to rein in the huge smile blooming across your face. “I guess some things are just meant to be.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

Rick takes your drink and places it beside his own on the side of the boat. A flicker of nervousness crosses his face, and he clears his throat, but before he can say another word the sound of a motor, loud and startling, shatters the tranquillity of the otherwise perfect evening.

Twisting in Rick’s arms, you look out once more across the vast expanse of sea and spot a small speedboat rapidly heading towards your larger vessel. Some of your fellow passengers are similarly staring at the cause of the sudden commotion. There hasn’t been another boat in sight for hours.

You feel Rick’s hand tighten around your waist again and when you return to meet his gaze, his handsome face is drawn into a grimace. “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

Confused, and more than a little concerned by Rick’s reaction, you glance back at the speedboat just in time to hear a whoop and a high-pitched cackle over the obnoxiously loud engine. As the smaller boat continues its fast approach, you’re finally able to make out the passengers, oddly familiar despite their current appearance. A tall, bearded man in a vibrantly coloured Hawaiian shirt stands at the helm, accompanied by a pale, bikini-clad woman with bright blonde pigtails. The reason for their familiarity suddenly dawns on you.

Although you only met them the once on Christmas Eve, you weren’t likely to forget the faces of Harley Quinn and Digger Harkness in a hurry.

“What the hell are they doin’ here?” Rick mutters from behind you as their boat pulls up next to your catamaran and Boomer kills the engine.

“Hey Flag!” Harley yells excitedly, standing up to wave and nearly losing her balance in the process. “Whoops! Long time, no see. How ya doin’?”

“Is it still Colonel, or should we call you Captain now, mate?” Boomer laughs, grabbing Harley’s arm to steady her as the boat bobs about in the water.

“Oh, hey there sweet'ums!” Harley’s attention drifts from Rick, landing on you instead. “I remember you. Looks like ya did a great job nursin’ old Flag back to health.” She nudges Boomer, clearly pleased with her joke.

“I don’t even want to know what you two are doin’ here,” Rick grumbles, having to shout to make himself heard. “Get yourselves back on dry land, then we’ll talk.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.” Both Harley and Boomer offer him a mock salute before the latter restarts the engine and the speedboat takes off across the waves once more.

Once they’re safely out of sight, you turn to Rick. The other passengers shoot a few bemused glances your way but otherwise continue to mind their own business. It doesn’t seem to assuage Rick’s embarrassment though.

“I’m so sorry about that,” he grinds out. “I have no idea what-”

You cut him off, rising onto your tiptoes to press your lips against his. He catches you in his arms, surprised.

“Don’t worry about them,” you urge, brushing your lips over the sweet spot below his ear. “We have another hour before we make it back to shore.” You kiss him again, tasting the salt of the ocean on his skin. “Enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts.”

To Rick’s irritation and your curiosity, Harley and Boomer are indeed waiting for you back at the marina when your boat docks. Rick has barely helped you onto dry land when Harley tackles him with a rib crushing hug.

“What’s this for, Quinn?” He grunts, offering you an awkward grimace over her shoulder.

The blonde eventually steps back, holding him at arm’s length for examination. “Do I gotta have a reason? Can’t I just be happy to see you in one piece?”

“You gave us a scare, y’know,” Boomer pipes up from beside you. He flashes you a toothy grin, a flash of silver gleaming under the floodlights of the marina.

Releasing himself from Harley, Rick takes a protective step towards you and links his fingers with yours. The gesture does not go unnoticed by his friends, who shoot one another a knowing smirk.

“Are we interruptin’ a romantic getaway?” Harley grins, hands flying to her painted red lips in mock surprise.

With his free hand, Rick pinches the bridge of his nose. “What do you want? You know I left ARGUS, right? Whatever trouble you got yourselves into now, I can’t help.”

“Oh, we’re not in trouble.” Harley pokes him in the chest. “We’re on vacation!”

“Vacation?”  Rick repeats, not bothering to hide the scepticism from his voice. “Bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Hey, when Milton told us he was lettin’ you stay here for free, we figured it was only fair we got to come along, too.”

“Dubois told you where we were goin’?” Rick stares at Harley in disbelief.

“Not in so many words.” She twirls the end of one pigtail. “Boomer might’a looked at his messages.”

Her companion grins. “Guilty as charged.”

A weary sigh escapes from Rick’s lips. “Here’s what you’re gonna do. Your gonna march your asses straight back to the airport and catch the next flight back to who the hell cares.”

Harley’s face falls and you tug on Rick's hand sharply, wondering whether you can persuade him to reconsider.

Boomer beats you to it.

“Ay listen mate, we ain’t your skivvies no more. You can’t tell us what to do. Harls wanted to check on you, but you moved away without tellin’ anyone. Had to track you down through Dubois.”

“It’s OK Boomer, he don’t want us here. Let’s go.” Harley links her arm through her friend’s and starts to pull him away.

“Wait!” You surprise everyone by raising your voice before turning to Rick. “Perhaps they could stay for a little while? It was a long way to come and there’s plenty of room in the villa.”

Harley’s crestfallen expression shifts into one of hope as she stares at Rick. “You won’t even know we’re here. Pinkie swear!”

Meanwhile, Rick clenches his jaw in obvious discomfort. “You sure about this? These guys are fuckin’ idiots.”

Unaffected by such a scathing assessment, Harley bounces on the balls of her feet. “Yeah, but we’re your fuckin’ idiots.”

Rick wakes you the next morning before the sun has fully risen. You shoot him a questioning look as he presses a finger to your lips, but the intention is clear. Even with Harley and Boomer installed at the opposite end of the villa, he doesn’t want them to hear; his plans for today only extend to the two of you.

After disembarking from the sunset cruise last night with two extra guests in tow, you had suggested drinks at one of the beach bars, figuring that Rick likely needed some liquid courage to deal with such an unexpected visit, or at the very least, something to ease the shock.

Between them, Harley and Boomer managed to relieve the bar of two bottles of Ouzo and plenty of colourful cocktails, so it’s safe to assume they won’t be waking up any time soon. Still, amused by Rick’s attempt at stealth, you dress in silence and find yourself strapped into the passenger seat of the hired jeep just as the sun finally emerges over the crest of the hills.

“Where are we going?”

Rick flashes you a disarming smile, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “Somewhere they can’t find us.”

Somewhere turns out to be a stunning cove on the opposite side of the island, almost two hours’ drive from the villa. The beautiful stretch of white sand is completely deserted except for the two of you - your very own slice of paradise for the day.

Rick helps you out of your floral sundress, not missing the opportunity to gently caress your skin with his calloused fingers as he slips the thin straps over your shoulders. Then, once you’re both stripped down to your bathing suits, he lifts you into his strong arms.

Wrapping your legs tightly around his broad waist, you cling to him tightly as he begins to wade out into the sea. To your amusement, his expression rapidly shifts from one of thinly veiled lust to sudden shock when the icy water reaches his thighs.

“Fuck! Brace yourself, darlin’.”

It’s still early, so the sun has not yet had time to warm the sea and even though you’re expecting it, you can’t help but let out a yelp when the waves lap against your own skin for the first time.

Rick laughs, tightening his grip around you as he continues to move away from the shoreline. Once again, the sound tugs at your heartstrings, especially when you think of how far he’s come since those dark days when the two of you first met. You know with certainty you’ll never take that sound for granted.

As you find yourself submerging deeper under the surface of the water, you start to acclimatise to the temperature. Relaxing in his arms, you tilt your head forwards and press a kiss to Rick’s temple.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

His eyes shutter and when he opens them, concern lines his face. “I’m sorry about last night. You sure you want those two idiots stayin’ with us?”

You lean forwards again, this time pressing your lips to the crease that has formed between his brows. “I know what they did for you, Rick. I know if it weren’t for them, you wouldn’t be here. We never would have met. The least I can do is to let them stay with us for a couple of days. They obviously care about you in their own... unique way.”

He pulls a face but doesn’t argue. “You’re too damn good, you know that?”

You spend the rest of the morning swimming in the crystalline blue sea. When Rick is finally able to coax you out of the water, he lays you down on the beach towel and hovers above you, a soft smile playing on his handsome face. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his chest, where a mouth-watering amount of golden skin glistens in the midday sun. Biting your lip, you meet his gaze. There’s not a soul around, and Rick is staring back at you with hunger in his beautiful hazel eyes. But there’s something else there, too. Something you can’t quite put a label on.

Reaching up, you clutch his shoulder and pull him into a kiss. His lips are warm and soft and as he gently eases his weight down, covering you with his huge body, your lower belly stirs with the beginnings of desire.

Rick deepens the kiss, groaning softly as you run your fingers through the damp lengths of his hair, but just before you can wonder if this is really going to happen, he withdraws, coming to kneel in front of you.

“I wanna talk to you about somethin’,” he begins. The same wavering note of tension is evident in his voice, just as it was last night on the boat.

You allow him to pull you into a seated position, but before he can continue, a speck on the horizon catches your eye, pulling your attention away from Rick.

He follows your line of sight across the expanse of white sand and as the two of you watch, the dark speck gets closer and closer, until you realise just exactly what it is; a person is hurtling towards the ocean – towards you. But it’s not just any person. It’s Boomer. And he’s completely naked.

“Oh my God!” Your hands fly to your face, covering your eyes as Boomer reaches your spot on the sand, but not before you see the abject horror in Rick’s expression.

“What the hell!? HARKNESS!” Rick launches himself up and starts storming towards the shoreline, where Boomer is thankfully now submerged beneath the surface of the gleaming water.

Climbing tentatively to your own feet, you wander over to Rick’s side and observe warily as the Australian thief bobs about beneath the waves.

“Crikey mate, s’a bit nippy, ain’t it!” Boomer exclaims, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he grins at the pair of you.

“What are you doin’ here?” Rick demands.

“Heard it was the ideal place for a swim.”

“Get out.”

Hearing Rick bark orders at Boomer, it’s not a stretch to picture him in the role of colonel.  Your chest flutters, and the desire from moments ago swiftly and surprisingly returns.  But when you remember the fact that Boomer, in all his naked glory, is barely a few metres away, the desire just as quickly dies.

Lacing your fingers with Rick’s, you squeeze his hand.  “Do we really want him to get out?” you mutter under your breath.

A flicker of understanding crosses Rick’s face. “On second thoughts-”

But it’s too late. Boomer is already wading back to the shoreline, heading straight for your vacated beach towel.

You avert your gaze, turning into the safety of Rick’s chest. His arms wrap around you protectively. You can feel his heart hammering against your cheek, a mixture of anger and frustration coursing through his body.

“Knew lettin' them stay was a bad idea,” he grunts.

If Rick was annoyed about being interrupted on the beach, it’s nothing compared to his mood by the end of the week. Despite Harley and Boomer’s persistent presence, you’ve tried to arrange activities that will keep Rick and his restless body active. Unfortunately, everything you plan - from hiking through the island’s lush green hills, to rollerblading along the picturesque seafront - ends up being gate-crashed by the two ex-criminals.

Rick, already less than amused by the prospect of rollerblading, was left furious when Harley rocked up, somehow mistaking the activity for roller-derby. She had promptly proceeded to body slam into him at full speed, resulting in cuts and bruises all round, not to mention the greatest casualty of all: Rick’s wounded ego.

You find him later that evening, sulking in the bedroom. The soft orange glow of the setting sun illuminates the hard planes of his body, bare from the waist up, and you swallow the lump of desire forming in your throat.

He glances up when you enter, a frown creasing his handsome face. “I just want us to have one hour alone, is that really too much to ask for?”

Offering a sympathetic smile, you crawl onto the bed behind him and wrap your arms around his thick waist. His body is scorching against your own bare skin, still damp from the pool where you’ve been cooling off for the last few hours. “I’m sorry, babe. I was really trying to think outside the box. I had no idea Harley liked rollerblading. How’s your knee holding up?”

Rick merely grunts in response, but you feel him soften in your arms. Resting your chin on his shoulder and pressing a kiss to his jaw, you continue. “Tomorrow’s our last night. Let’s go out to dinner. We’ll invite the two of them, as well -” Rick stiffens at the suggestion, but he lets you continue. “-that way, at least we won’t have any nasty surprises if they do show up.”

After a moment to consider, Rick relents. “Not exactly what I had in mind for our last night, but sure.”

You brush your mouth over his jaw again, but this time he turns his head, causing your lips to meet, and what was intended to be a chaste kiss swiftly heats up. Before you can catch a breath, Rick is deftly manoeuvring you into his lap, and in a matter of seconds, he’s expertly drawing soft moans from you, his hands caressing every inch of available skin.

“Where are they now?” he asks roughly, between open mouthed kisses to your neck and chest.

Aside from sleep, this is one of the first moments you’ve had to yourselves since Harley and Boomer showed up on their speedboat, and you’re pretty sure Rick is thinking the same as you. It’s been a struggle to keep your hands off him, and while somehow you doubt his friends would care, you’ve tried to minimise public displays of affection.

“They’re out.” Your response turns into a gasp as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your bikini bottoms, leaving you in no doubt of where he intends this to make-out session to lead.

Rick plucks at the strings of your bikini top, and it quickly falls away from your body. “For how long?”

“Who knows?” Who cares, you think, as he replaces the item of clothing with his hand, softly cupping and kneading your sensitive flesh. When he touches you like this, you don’t even know your own name.

“We’ll have to be quick.” His voice is a growl, deep and rumbling; you feel it in the pit of your stomach.

“I don’t mind.”

You’ve barely freed Rick from the constraints of his swim shorts when the villa door slams open and high-pitched giggling echoes down the hallway.

“Fuck!”

The restaurant is beautiful. The food is delicious. Even the company, Rick has to concede, is uncharacteristically well-behaved. If he’s completely honest he had been disappointed by your suggestion of going out to dinner with Harley and Boomer because it had been his intention to finally get you alone. But the night is still young, and maybe, just maybe, his efforts won’t go to waste.

After the main course, Rick makes his excuses and slips into the bathroom. He doesn’t like leaving you unattended with those two idiots for long, but he needs a minute to gather his thoughts. He wants this to be perfect; it’s the least you deserve.

Scrutinising his reflection in the mirror, he takes a deep breath. There isn’t a single doubt in his mind that this is the right thing to do. Still, it doesn’t make it any less terrifying. Before meeting you, he never had to worry about rejection, never gave much thought to how others perceived him. But now, just like that evening on the roof of the hospital, he’s been rehearsing what he wants to say. And ever since the plane touched down on the island, he’s been waiting for the right moment. He just hopes he hasn’t waited too long.

Rick scrubs a hand over his jaw. He wonders if you see what he does. The shadow of fear that still follows him around. Because he knows just how precious every moment is, just how fleeting life can be. By some small miracle he was given a second chance and he doesn’t want to spend another second of that without you.

Squaring his shoulders, he gives his reflection a final frown. Man up, Flag.

He's barely opened the bathroom door when the sound of shattering porcelain causes his stomach to drop.  God, how he wishes he had the option to run. To turn on his heel and flee the restaurant without having to deal with whatever the hell he’s about to walk into. He’s tired. So goddamn tired of having to babysit those two idiots, but the knowledge that you’re out there, fielding the chaos alone, is enough to make him see red.

He strides back into the restaurant. For the briefest of moments, Rick wishes he had run.

Harley is now standing atop the dining table, an armful of plates in her possession. Cheered on by Boomer, she’s dropping the plates onto the floor and stomping her feet in time to the music. A crowd of restaurant staff have gathered around, waving their arms and shouting in Greek, but amidst the commotion, Rick’s gaze quickly lands on you.

Face creased in embarrassment, you’re tugging at the hem of Harley’s floral dress, trying to coax her down from the table. Your anxious eyes meet Rick’s across the room, and he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders sag with relief. He’s quick to join your side, cursing himself for ever leaving you in the first place.

“Get down. Now,” he barks over the shouting and the music and the smashing.

Harley pauses. In her outstretched hand she clutches another plate. She’s holding it out over the floor, where it’s ready to drop. Her pale face stretches into a wide grin as Rick snatches the delicate china from her grip. “Don’t be such a spoilt sport, Flag. We’re just havin’ a bit of fun! And it’s tradition, ain’t it?”

Rick offers the plate to one of the many disgruntled staff members, before rescuing the remaining dishes from Harley’s dangerous embrace. At the back of his mind, he’s calculating how much the damage is going to cost him. “This ain’t that kinda place, Harley. And I ain’t tellin’ you again. Get. Down.”

Boomer pulls a face across the table. “Lighten’ up, boss. The locals are lovin’ it.”

If you ask Rick, the locals are most certainly not ‘lovin’ it’. If anything, their fellow restaurant guests look terrified. And who could blame them?

Once the plates are safely out of Harley’s possession, Rick grabs her by the waist and lifts her off the table, before seizing Boomer by the scruff of his collar. He flashes you an apologetic grimace. “Excuse us for a minute, darlin’.” Then, without waiting for your response, he hauls his ex-squad mates out of the dining area.

With Harley and Boomer reluctantly in tow, Rick soon finds himself on the rooftop of the restaurant. The sun has almost set, the sky turning a brilliant shade of burnt orange, but he doesn’t have time to appreciate the view, nor his surroundings. The small area seems to be some special kind of dining area, complete with fairy lights and flower-covered trellis, but it’s currently abandoned. Perfect. He doesn’t want an audience for this.

“That’s it,” he tells the two criminals, coming to a halt beside one of the long wooden tables. “I’m done playin’ nice. The two of you need to leave. Now.”

“Why?” Harley pouts, arms folded across her chest as she stares Rick down.

Boomer slings his arm around her, presenting a united front. “Yeah, it’s a free country, ain’t it?”

“Why?” Rick pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “Cos you’ve ruined this entire trip. Every single moment we get alone, the two of you appear. And don’t get me started on whatever the hell that was back there. I can’t take it anymore. This was supposed to be perfect.”

“Perfect?” Harley scrunches her face in distaste. “Who wants perfect? If you ask me, that sounds kinda borin’-”

“I’ve been tryin’ to propose,” Rick blurts out, his shoulders slumping as he realises what he’s just revealed.

From the look on Harley’s face – eyes bright and teeth bared in glee - it’s clear there’s no taking it back. “You’re gonna ask her to marry you?”

“I’ve been tryin’ all damn week,” he grumbles. “But you guys are constantly interuptin’. Startin’ to think it was a bad idea.” Because clearly, with these two showing up, he still has baggage. Does he really want to subject you to this again? He might have left Waller and ARGUS in the dust, but he’s beginning to suspect that along with the lingering nightmares, he’ll never quite shake off the squad.

“Don’t be such a pessimist, Flag,” Harley chastises. “I think it’s a brilliant idea. Never had you down as such a romantic, tho’.”

Rick frowns. “Yeah well, I think the moment has passed.” Why on earth would you want to marry him after the performance back there?

“Never had you down as a quitter either, mate.” Boomer is clearly enjoying every moment of this. “But if you really are throwin’ in the towel, mind if I cut in?”

Rick no longer has the energy to respond. Revealing his true intention has taken the wind from his sails. He just wants to go home, hopefully with you in tow, and forget about this nightmare. Something tells him it’s not going to be easy, though. Because Harley’s cocking her head now, and Rick can practically see the cogs turning. A sure sign of trouble.

“Don’t go anywhere.” She grins at him, grabbing Boomer by the hand. “We’ll take care of this.”

Rick’s stomach churns. “No, wait. Harls. I don’t want you to do anythin’.”

But it’s too late. Short of chasing after them, his only choice is to continue hiding out here, or go back inside and face you. To try and salvage as much of this evening as he can. Tomorrow, you’ll be on the plane home. He wanted this trip to be perfect, but he realises this was just wishful thinking. Maybe there’s no such thing as perfect.

“Rick? Is everything ok?”

He spins around to find you standing at the top of the stairs, your brow pinched in confusion as you take in the quaint surroundings, and in stark contrast, his flustered expression.

“Where did those two go in such a hurry?”

He starts to close the distance, his chest already feeling lighter at the sight of you. “I am so fuckin’ sorry about them, I-”

“Stop.” You cut him off, your gentle fingers covering his lips. “You’re not responsible for them. Not anymore. And I managed to smooth things over with the owner. Just as long as they never come back here, we should be fine.”

As you stroke his cheek, your lips brushing over his own, Rick softens beneath your touch. The weight of the evening starts to fall away, and his hands find your waist, drawing you closer. It’s a struggle not to bury his head against your shoulder, to lose himself to the feeling of your soft, warm body. How many nights have you held him close like this? Chasing away the demons and the nightmares.

“It’s beautiful out here,” you remark, finally pulling away. But Rick has barely noticed. He only has eyes for you. “Do you think if I slipped them an extra-large tip, they’d let us have dessert out here?”

“I somehow doubt that, darlin’. Think we’re lucky they haven’t hauled our asses outta here yet.”

“True.” Taking Rick’s hand, you lead him towards the edge of the roof and gesture towards the horizon. “But it’s kind of perfect, don’t you think?”

Following your gaze as you look out across the town, Rick puts himself in your shoes; allowing himself a moment to appreciate the beauty of the blue and white buildings bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, of the dark blue ocean sparkling in the distance. It’s one of the many things he loves about you. Your ability to look beyond. To see the good in people. To see the good in him. You know all of his secrets, all the terrible things he’s done, and yet you’ve never once judged him.

A comfortable silence wraps itself around the two of you. It’s almost a shame to break the spell, but the words are threatening to burst right out of Rick’s chest, and he wants to make sure he gets them right.

Slowly, he turns to face you. “I’ve spent this entire trip tryin’ to find the perfect moment. Maybe if I’d got outta my own head for just a second I would’a realised. It don’t matter what we’re doin’, or who’s around. As long as you’re by my side, everythin’s already perfect. So, I ain’t gonna wait any longer.”

Before you can ask what the hell he’s talking about, Rick drops to one knee and slips his hand into his pocket - thank god the small velvet box is still in there. He opens it up, revealing the delicate diamond ring he picked out months ago, that he’s been carrying around this entire trip. “Will you marry me?”

Your eyes instantly water, but Rick’s heart leaps. He knows it’s the good kind of tears, because you’re biting your lip and nodding your head, a huge smile brightening your beautiful face. “Yes. Yes, of course. Yes!”

With shaking hands, Rick slips the ring onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit.

Still grinning, you pull him to his feet, but before your impatient lips can meet, a thunderous boom fills the air. The two of you freeze, your eyes wide and mouths only inches apart, and then the night sky erupts in a burst of colours.  

“Fireworks?” You look to Rick, your expression full of wonder.

He’s about to explain - this has nothing to do with him, but a high-pitched giggle can be heard from the street below. Rick shakes his head. Despite everything they’ve put him through over the last few days, he has to hand it to Harley and Boomer. Their timing is exceptional.

With your lips still only inches apart, you raise your brow to Rick. “I guess this means they’re off the hook?”

Words will be exchanged later, he has no doubt about that, but for now the only thing on Rick’s mind is you. Closing the distance, he presses his lips to yours just as the next round of fireworks lights up the sky. Maybe he was wrong earlier. Maybe the perfect moment does exist.

Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @bewitchedignition @yespolkadotkitty @ed-baldwin @fairchildflag @phoenixhalliwell @weallhaveadestiny @lavenderluna10 @mayhem24-7forever @s-u-t @katjnordstrom96 @kirsteng42 @heresathreebee @immyownlittlebitch

[blackbat05]

Exploring

Rick Flag x Reader

A/N: Can be read as continuation from previous fic - A beardful! Also this gif🥹

Genre: PG-13

Notes: Baby Robin explores the Flag Residence on workout day.

At 3 years old, the youngest in the Flag family was naturally curious, wandering off the moment eyes were looking elsewhere.

Today was workout day, which meant that every member of the family - including his favorite uncle and aunts were training at the underground facility that Papa build.

Little Robin toddles towards the shed, pressing the big red button that his Mama always pressed when she bought drinks for everyone.

Entering the big silver box, Robin sees many circles on the wall. Which one should he press? He goes straight for the button lowest and the easiest to reach.

The silver box whirs to life and starts to bring Robin downwards. The box opens and Robin sees a light down the hallway. That’s where must Papa must be!

As fast as his legs could take him, Robin enters the room.

“Hello Robin!” He sees Aunt Cleo at the table, observing Sebastian running on the mini treadmill that was specially designed for the rat. “How did you come here?”

And so Robin finds himself being the “trainer” for Sebastian as assigned by Cleo to make sure that Sebastian doesn’t slack. “He’s been eating too much cheese.” Cleo tells him.

Cleo gives him a bag of dried apples after a job well done. “Bring this to Mama ok?” As Robin sets off to find his Papa.

He continues to walk, turning right to the next hallway. Another door! Papa must be there. Robin tip-toes to grip the handle but without much success. Then, the door opens.

“Heya little rugrat!” A familiar pale face stares down at him. “Come to see me on the ropes?”

Robin feels himself lifted up and placed into a chair to watch Aunt Harley do a mind boggling routine on the ropes that were attached to the celling.

Achieving a perfect landing, Robin laughs, clapping his hands wildly.

“Aw!!! You’re the sweetest cherry little birdie!” Harley chirps. Then it hits her. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be with Mama?”

Robin blinks at his Aunt Harley.

“Oh!!! You’re here to look for Flag! Well then! He’s just down there! Gotta go now!” And with that, Aunt Harley’s ponytails swish behind the doors.

Robin toddles down further, entering the next room he sees.

Uncle Robert’s at a weird looking contraption with handles for him to pull blocks attached to the string. Robin always knew that Uncle Robert is strong.

“Now how did you get down here little chap? And what’s this?” Robert finishes his set of weights, pointing to the bag of dried apples that Cleo gave earlier.

“Papa.”

As always, Robert is able to understand what Robin wants with few words.

“Your old man’s coming down shortly. I’ll stay here with you until he comes least you’re up to no good.” Robert lifts Robin up, taking him to the seat that was within his sight.

“Guess you’ll just have to be with me for now.”

***

“Damn it!” You cursed internally, briskly walking towards the shed. You should have known better the moment your baby boy could stand on his two feet.

Dusting the flour from your pants, you pressed the lift button repeatedly. Reaching underground in record time, you entered the first room to see Cleo cleaning up Sebastian’s treadmill.

“Hey Cleo, have you seen Robin?”

“No, I have not.” Cleo scrunches her face in confusion. “I thought he went back to find you.” She sees the worried expression on your face and quickly changes her tone.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he hasn’t gone far. I can get Sebastian to find where he is.” Cleo switches on her light, summoning Sebastian and a few other rats to go on the hunt.

The two of you hurried down the hall, calling for Robin.

As you make the turn, you bump into Harley who was blasting pop rock on her earpiece that you could almost hear it from a mile away.

“Heya Mama! Whatcha doing here too?” She says a little too loudly. But you caught what she had said.

“Robin came down here too?”

“Yeah, must have been looking for Flag. Hey, where is he though?”

So in a condensed version, you repeated the same thing to Harley and off the three of you went, looking for a misplaced toddler.

You almost tore parts of your hair out upon looking at another dark room when-

“You sneaky munchkin! He’s alright Mama! Just here hanging out with the man crew.” Harley hollers down the hallway to attract yours and Cleo’s attention.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you sped down the rooms to meet Harley standing outside.

“Robin, where have you been? Mama’s was worried-” You came to a stop, the rest of the words forgotten. In front of you was possibly the most cutest and ridiculous sight you ever seen.

“Eighteen… Nineteen… and, twenty!” Rick completes his pull-ups in quick succession with Robin safety fastened to the baby carrier that your husband wore.

“Up! Upppp!!!” Robin pleads with his Papa, chubby legs wiggling in the carrier. Rick wipes his sweat before removing Robin carefully from the carrier. “Let’s take a break first bub.”

You decide to make yourself known.

“So that’s where you are!” You smiled brightly, opening your arms as Robin clumsily runs into your arms. “How was workout with Papa?”

“Workout, was amazing. Right buddy?” Rick gives you a kiss on the cheek.

“Ya lady here almost lost her marbles when she couldn’t find Robin!” Harley saunters up beside you.

“Nothin to worry about,” Rick flashes one of his signature grins that you fell in love with in the first place. “Just two of us spending some man time together right?”

Robin giggles, detaching himself from you to latch onto his father’s leg once more. You swore you could see Rick melt a little.

Picking Robin up, he bobs his nose playfully. “Alright mister, for making Mama worried, your gonna have to take a bath!”

Robin squeals at the mention of a bath.

“You’re not going anywhere Mister!” Rick has a firm grip on Robin who tries to worm his way out. He comes to your side, careful to keep your baby out of earshot.

“After him, it’ll be your turn with me.”