#colonel rick flag

[filministic]

The Suicide Squad (2021) dir. James Gunn

[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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[blackbat05]

Thief

Rick Flag x Reader

Plot: The weather hasn’t done any favors, leaving you out of clothes. Thankfully, you know where you could grab some in case of an emergency.

Genre: PG-13 (Shared clothes trope)

A/N: I’m sorry if this was so brief and not as well written🥲 I realized I haven’t wrote Rick in a while and it proves because this was sitting in my draft for a good 3 weeks? Final semester so many things were going on. Still hope you enjoy it!

Yes, the yellow shirt makes an appearance😩

Sweating buckets, you stumbled into the shared apartment. Making a beeline for the fridge, you grab a bottle of water, gulping down the liquid like it’s your lifeline.

Curse the fickle minded weather. You swore the weather forecast saying something about breezy winds. It didn’t say anything about a blistering hot morning.

You immediately made your way to the showers once you were sure you could properly stand and not collapse midway.

Shortly after, you stepped out of the shower, satisfied with the cooling sensation lingering on your skin. Opening your closet to retrieve fresh clothes, you realize one problem…

You were out of tops.

Of course. With the unpredictable weather, you finally managed to get your clothes out to dry without having to worry about the torrential rain. Your friends around you convinced you to just get a dryer or head to the laundromat but you were dead set on not having to spend more money than you already were. So natural drying it was.

You racked your head for a solution. Sure, you would have been contended lounging around naked but the windows were too close to the building opposite your apartment and you had intention of jeopardizing you modesty with creeps these days.

An idea lights in your head. Of course! Why didn’t you think of that. You opened Rick’s part of the cabinet, pulling out a yellow shirt. Slipping it through your head, you were glad for the new soap powder you had bought just last week for the smell had mixed nicely with Rick’s scent. As his shirt had covered you nicely, you decided to opt for no shorts enjoying the cool air on your legs.

It felt as if like he was hugging you from behind while you went around your daily tasks. Heat long forgotten, you started to hum your favorite tunes, time ticking away.

The door rattles slightly before revealing Rick with a couple of brown bags in each hand. You don’t seem to notice him as you focused on making breakfast for the two of you.

His eyes can’t help but to roam your figure, specifically what you were wearing. Rick recognized that blindingly bright yellow shirt from anywhere. Honestly, it only reminded him of unsavory memories but when you wore it, the distaste for it somehow disappeared.

“Hey baby.” Rick gently calls out so as to not alarm you. You turn around, spatula in one hand and an infectious smile on your face. Now that you were facing him, Rick feels a flutter in his chest seeing how effortlessly elegant you looked despite the casual home wear.

“You’re back!” You made sure the stove was switched off before making a beeline to the counter where Rick was sitting. “Did you get everything on the list?”

Rick nods proudly. “And I figured you could do with some ice cream especially after that run.”

His brain momentarily short circuits as you give a bone crushing hug, feeling your skin exposed by the lack of shorts press against his own.

“You’re the best! What would I do without you.” An arm around Rick’s neck, you rummage the shopping bags with your free hand only to be stopped abruptly by him. You give him a puzzled look. Rick takes a few steady breaths.

“Is that my shirt you’re wearing?”

You glanced down, holding the piece of fabric between your two fingers. “Oh… this?” You carefully scanned his unreadable expression.

“Yeah, I didn’t have any fresh clothes so I kinda grabbed one from you… if you don’t like it I can change! I’m sure one of mine would have dried in this heat by now.”

Before you could ramble any further, Rick nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “Don’t, I love it.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him. “In fact, take this shirt. I want to see you wear it more often.”

Rick’s sudden straightforwardness leaves you blushing. Despite how long you had been together, Rick always made you feel like you were the prettiest woman in the world.

You gently pry yourself away from him, looking at his gaze that was dripping with honey. “Alright then,” you decided to feel a little cheeky today, “I’ll keep it! Don’t say that I’m a thief or something!”

He laughs. “Darlin? That’s exactly what you are. A thief to my clothes and my heart.”

Rick turns away from you, preparing to help you with breakfast. He can’t help but to grin, knowing very well that you were left agape at his smooth delivery.

You barely managed to pull yourself together, mumbling how you were going to fold the clean laundry since he was at the stove. As you leave the kitchen, Rick can’t help but to stare at your thin underwear that was covered by his large shirt.

Yeah, he’ll get more of those darned shirts if he had to.

[maarriiii]

Breathless | Rick Flag

A/N: In my world, Rick Flag is still alive and well.

Summary: An unexpected visit from the one and only, Colonel Rick Flag, let to a revelation

Pairing(s): Rick Flag x female!reader

Warning(s): None.

my masterlist :))

~~

"Flag?" Rick Flag looked up from his boots and was met with the sight of a confused y/n l/n, standing in front of her apartment door. For a few seconds, the former colonel had to do a double take with how casual her appearance was. y/n was clad in a worn out T-shirt with some sort of stain on her chest and a pair of denim jeans. Her hair was tied up with strands of hair framing her face. If Rick didn't recognize her from the times that they've worked together, then he would've thought that she was just a normal civilian living her life. But, y/n was anything but. A trained assassin wanted by every agencies possible for countless of political assassination domestically and internationally.

"Hello, um," Rick shook his head and cleared his throat. "Hey."

"Hi. What are you doing here?"

"I was just in town and thought I'd give you a visit."

y/n squint, watching his movement. "I never told you where I live in Gotham."

Rick gulped underneath her gaze and stuffed his hands inside his jacket pocket. Rick wasn't a man that's easily intimidated. He had fought many atrocious people during his time in the army and worked with the worst of the worst almost on a daily basis. He needed to grow a thicker skin because of it and he did. But, as y/n watched him intently, trying to decipher the meaning behind his sudden arrival, he couldn't help but remember how deadly this woman in front of him. How she could kill him with a single touch, hide his body and returned to whatever she was doing without anyone noticing.

"Rick." y/n snapped him out of his thoughts. "How did you know where I live?"

"Alright, I might've asked a couple of people to track you down. And I might've asked Dubois too. Since, you know, you both worked together before," he explained, feeling ashamed for some reason.

"Wow, Rick, all that effort just to find me? I'm honored." She smiled.

"Well, you're a hard woman to find. Can't blame me to ask for favors."

Rick heard her genuinely laugh for the first time and he couldn't resist the smile that slipped his lips. She was always so guarded during missions, a few quips here and there about him, Waller or the utter ridiculousness of whatever teammates she was assigned with. Even when Harley let out the most ridiculous things out of her mouth, y/n was always tight lipped. He was lucky if he saw a smirk from her. Rick won't admit it out loud, but he was liking this side of her.

He was immediately engulfed with a delicious smell that almost made his stomach growl when he entered her apartment. It was a small apartment and from where he stood, Rick could see the kitchen with an array of ingredients on the counter and pans on the stovetop. The living room was to his right where the local news was playing on the tv and books were scattered on the coffee table. On his left was a hallway with three doors leading to what he assumed to be bedrooms.

"Bathroom is the second door on the left." y/n looked at him over her shoulder. "You want anything to drink? I have beers, soda, water."

"Beer would be fine. You got people comin' over? That's a lot of food." Rick nodded to the ingredients scattered on the counter.

"Harley's gonna come over soon and she likes to eat a lot." She shrugged, sipping her tea. "You hungry? I think I made enough for three people. Harley's gonna have to share though."

"No, no, you don't have to. I'm fine. Thanks."

"Suits you then. But, for your information, I've been told I'm a phenomenal cook." She winked at him. "So, to what do I owe you the pleasure, Colonel Flag?"

To say y/n was surprised when Flag showed up at her door was an understatement. After the mission in Corto Maltese—and blackmailing Waller—she never thought she'd see the rest of her remaining Task Force X teammates again, let alone her former Colonel. She did keep tabs on all of them, even Nanaue for some odd reason unknown to her, but that was it. The last she heard from the man in front of her was that he quit the task force and moved to D.C. That was five months ago.

Rick was silent for a moment before he spoke. "Just a casual visit to a friend. You know, just making sure you're not getting into troubles."

"Hm. And do you do this house calls to everyone?" y/n questioned, a playful glint on her eyes.

"You just so happened to be my first visit."

y/n rolled her eyes. "If you wanted to see me, Flag, you know you could just say so. There's no need to make up a reason. I won't judge."

"What makes you think that, l/n?" A smirk slipped his lips.

"Oh, please, I was always your favorite on the squad. You always make the effort to personally escort me from my cell—and don't even deny it cause I overheard the guards once. You put an overwhelming amount of trust in me to watch your six and save your ass. And lastly, you stare too much."

"Well, you were—you were the most competent and less likely to kill me if I turn my back on you. What do you mean I stare too much?" Rick frowned.

y/n leaned her elbow on the counter, her head tilted on her hand and a mischievous smile on her lips. She was dangerously close to his face even with the island counters separating the two of them. Rick could smell the spices she used on her and it overwhelmed his senses in the best possible way. The only time they were this close was on a mission where both of them were covered in mud and blood. He had to admit he did sometimes stare at her during mission. y/n would be checking her gear, incapacitating an enemy, or just talking to Harley and he would avert his eyes to her. Harley caught him doing it one time and he had to act like he didn't know what the hell she was talking about. So much for subtlety.

"I mean, sometimes I could feel your eyes on me and when I turned around, you're already looking away," y/n whispered slowly.

"I was just checking to make sure you're not planning something that could endanger the mission."

"At first, I thought the same thing. I thought you were just doing your job. But, then it lingered just a few seconds too long and in places where you shouldn't be staring."

"I, uh, I didn't mean to make you comfortable or anything like that."

y/n smiled at his reaction and inched closer to his face that she could feel his breath on her face. "Don't worry, soldier. I'm just glad the feelings mutual. I haven't exactly been innocent on the staring too."

She trailed feather light touches on his neck with both of her hands and she could feel him tense underneath her touch. She brushed his surprising soft lips with her own and was satisfied when Rick closed her eyes. He leaned his forehead on her and gripped his beer with a little too much force as if he was holding himself back. y/n could just end their waiting and kissed him hard like she always wanted to ever since she saw him shirtless in that hut in Corto Maltese. But, she thought it was fun to torture him like that.

"You're gonna kiss me or just leave a man hangin' like this?" He breathed out, eyes still closed.

"I like seeing you like this. I don't think many people could say they made Colonel Rick Flag so breathless."

"You're killin' me here, sweetheart."

y/n shivered at the nickname. "Wouldn't this be a good way to die."

Without any warning, Rick pressed his lips against hers and cupped her jaw. His calloused thumbs gently brushed the apple of her cheeks and y/n couldn't resist the urge to melt at the gesture. For years, all she ever focused on was vengeance to the people that stole her life and weaponized her. She didn't imagine she would surrendered so easily to the foreign feelings, to Rick Flag of all people. But, as their lips molded like two pieces of a puzzle, all she could focus on was him. y/n held both of his hands and squeezed, a silent sign that she trust him. The man she used to despised with all her being. Her colleague, friend, and something more if the universe deemed her to be a good enough person despite her bloody past.

A small whimper escaped her lips when Rick pulled away, but they were still close enough to feel each other pants. y/n didn't open her eyes, still too caught up in the euphoria that was his lips. Her mind was screaming at her for being so vulnerable and unguarded, but she couldn't care less. All she wanted was him.

"Looks like I'm the one makin' you breathless this time, y/n."

"Seems so." She smiled. "I gotta say, Flag, you're one helluva kisser."

Rick chuckled. "I try not to disappoint."

"Any more secret talent I need to know about?"

"I think I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Though, I'd rather take you out to dinner first."

y/n finally opened her eyes and gazed at him. "I like the sound of that."

[comic-covers]

(1959)

[loverhymeswith]

Say You Want Me and I'm Yours

Pairing: Rick Flag x F!Reader

Summary: A prequel to Nothing Will Ever be the Same

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, language, p in v sex

A/N: Thank you so much @a-reader-and-a-writer for the prompt, and for beta reading 💖

Rick follows you into the staff locker room but you pretend not to notice. He’s barely exchanged two words with you since your argument onboard the helo and judging by the steely scowl you just caught a glimpse of in the mirror, that isn’t likely to change anytime soon.

This suits you just fine. You’re too tired and sore to engage with him right now anyway, and besides, you've said all you needed to. The mission was a success; who cares if you went a little off-script to get the result?

Certainly not Amanda Waller. You could practically hear her glee over the comms when Rick had informed her the asset had been retrieved. That was all thanks to you – a fact that Rick had deliberately failed to mention.

While you might consider yourself the hero of the hour, Rick hadn't seen it quite the same way. Stupid and rash, he'd called you. A liability.

None of this is new. In fact, lately most of your missions have ended in a similar fashion: the two of you embroiled in a blazing row while the rest of the squad watches on in bemusement. Rick accuses you of being sloppy and undisciplined; you tell him he's a control freak and too tightly wound, that perhaps he needs to get laid.

The sparse facilities of Belle Reve along with the life-or-death nature of the job leave little room for modesty and you can hear Rick moving behind you – the sound of his tact vest and t-shirt hitting the floor. As tempting as it might be to poke the colonel-shaped bear further now that you find yourselves in the privacy of the locker room, you truly don't have the energy. Instead, you strip out of your own filthy vest and shirt and start to examine the extent of your injuries.

It could have been much worse. There’s a dark bruise forming around your left bicep where Boomer had pulled you out of the way of a grenade, and an array of scratches and scrapes across your forearms and knuckles, but nothing to write home about. The only thing bothering you is your ankle. You suspect you must have landed badly jumping off the roof of the compound, though it's probably just a sprain.

Continuing to ignore Rick’s presence, you sink onto one of the benches and start to unlace your boots, until eventually you sense the weight of his gaze settling between your shoulder blades.

"You should get that checked out."

You twist around and spare him a cursory glance. A rapid assessment reveals no new injuries to his thick, muscular body. All differences aside, you're relieved he seems to be in one piece. Not that you let it show. “So you’re speaking to me again?”

Your words appear to find their mark as usual, the large vein on the side of Rick’s neck bulging as he works his jaw and grunts. "Who says I wasn't speakin' to you?"

You shrug, kicking off your boots and gingerly rolling up your pant leg to assess the damage. Sure enough, the skin around your ankle is swollen and inflamed. Hopefully nothing that aspirin and a few days rest won't fix.

When you don't respond, Rick places himself in front of you.

"What?" You snap at his feet, hoping he isn't planning for round two. A faint headache is beginning to bloom at your temple and you want nothing more than to go home and collapse into bed.

"Why have you always gotta be so goddamn confrontational?" You can hear the exasperation in his voice and when you tilt your head to meet his eye, his lips are turned down into a customary frown.

"Why do you always have to be such a jerk?"

Rick folds his arms across the expanse of his bare chest. A thin sheen of sweat is glistening on his tanned skin. He'll be heading for the showers any moment now. You know his routine like the back of your hand. Straight-laced, predictable Rick Flag.

"That is exactly what I'm talkin' about." He sighs audibly, nostrils flaring. "Straight in there with the childish insults. Why can't we ever talk things out like grown adults?"

"Because you don't listen."

"Like hell I don't." Rick shifts his weight from one foot to the other, drawing his lips into a thin line. It's his default expression; you can't remember the last time you saw him smile. "You're the one never listenin'. You're the one ignorin' orders and tryin' to get yourself killed."

Your rise from the bench, planting yourself squarely before him. A pulse of anger flares through your chest. "Don't act like you give a fuck about me, Flag. All you care about is bossing the squad around. You'd rather fail the mission than let anyone else take the lead."

"You got no idea what you're talkin' about," he growls, hazel eyes flashing with a fury to match your own.

"Don't I?" You take a step closer until you're standing toe to toe. With barely any space between you, Rick’s scar-flecked chest is directly in your line of vision, rising and falling with each heavy breath. You’ve never noticed the latticework of thin silver lines marring his skin before. That one man could walk away from battle so many times is nothing short of a miracle.

But you don't tell him this. Instead, you fold your arms to match his stance and continue. “Why didn't you let me take the credit with Waller today? You know we never would have succeeded if Boomer and I hadn't gone up on that roof."

A muscle in Rick’s jaw ticks. "Is that what you really think? That I give a damn about who gets the credit?"

You shrug half-heartedly. It certainly seems that way lately. Constantly down-playing your achievements and speaking over you in briefings with Waller, it’s like Rick wants you to fail. "Prove me wrong."

"Prove you wrong?" He's barely a hair's breadth away from you now. So close that when he huffs out the last remaining whisper of his anger, his warm breath flutters across your cheek.

"I'm tryin' to protect you," he mutters quietly, as if he's suddenly worried about being overheard. "If Waller learns the truth… if she learns just how fuckin' fearless and capable you are, she'll take you away from me."

"I'm not a possession." You bristle at the implication, fingernails digging painfully into the flesh of your arms so he can’t see just how much his words are affecting you. "You can't keep me all to yourself."

"I don't want to own you," he grumbles, unjustly annoyed that you can't seem to decipher the inner workings of his mind. "I'm tryin' to keep you free from Waller. She'll set you up with your own squad. I won't be -"

"I don't need you around to save me all the time, Flag." You cut him off before he can do further damage to your already precarious relationship. "Didn't I make that clear today?"

"Fuck. Darlin', that's not what I'm tryin' to say."

In Rick's honey-coated southern drawl, the pet name causes you to falter. He's never called you by anything other than your last name before. He seems to notice his mistake too, because he's scrubbing a hand over his jaw, gaze focused anywhere but you.

"Darlin'?" You repeat with the arch of a brow. You'd intended for it to sound condescending, but even you can't deny the surprise in your tone. "That's a new one."

"You just…" Rick stumbles over his words like he’s been knocked off course by an invisible force. "I can't think straight when I'm around you."

If you were on top of your game, you'd have snapped back with a cutting remark, teasing him for showing even a hint of weakness, but something about the sincerity of his words leaves no room for mockery. "What?"

Rick's eyes shutter, dark lashes kissing golden skin, and suddenly you’ve lost all direction too – can barely remember why you were so pissed at him in the first place.

Recovering from some internal conflict, Rick pins you with a heated gaze. "You heard me."

When your back hits metal you realise he's stepped even closer, his large body looming over you as a pair of tattooed arms reach out to keep you caged against the lockers. You read the hunger in his eyes a split second before he leans in.

His lips have barely brushed your own when your hands fly to his glistening chest, pushing against the solid wall of muscle. He staggers back instantly, wide-eyed and panic-stricken, like he can't believe what he's done.

That makes two of you.

"What the hell was that for?" you demand, heartbeat racing furiously while your brain fights to catch up.

"I…I'm…" You can sense him stumbling again, grasping blindly for any kind of excuse he can offer you, anything that might justify trying to kiss you.

Ultimately though, it doesn’t matter; he's too slow to respond. Because in that moment, he's breathtaking. So beautifully flustered and unlike the Rick you thought you knew that you have no choice but to grab his dogtags and drag his mouth back down to meet your own.

Your action awakens something in Rick, or at the very least it chases away his doubts, because he seals his soft pink lips to yours and he's really kissing you now.

It’s angry and it's messy and your teeth clack together as you tug him closer, fingers rising to thread through the lengths of his golden hair. His battle-worn hands have dropped to your waist, burning against your bare skin as he squeezes you tightly, pulling you flush against the hard planes of his body.

If you were still of sound mind it might have occurred to you to question whether this was wise: a colonel and his lieutenant overstepping every boundary in the book. But all sensible thoughts are driven from your head when Rick wedges one of his legs between your own. The insistent pressure of his muscled thigh against your centre forces all the heat in your body to rush south, stirring some long dormant desire you'd thought had been buried by the battlefields and bloodshed.

As your fingernails rake over the sweat-slick skin of his impossibly wide shoulders, Rick grabs your ass and drags you roughly along the length of his thigh. The friction against your core is so delicious that you find yourself whimpering into his mouth.

His tight hold on you falters and he pauses, seemingly startled by the sound.

"What are you waiting for?" you hiss, pulling back to find wariness written in the fine lines of his brow.

What you really mean is don't stop now.

Rick’s eyes have turned almost-black with lust, but there's an edge to his rasping voice that forces you to listen. Even now he commands your begrudging attention. "I don't want you havin' any regrets."

Your fingers head south, tracing the path of silver scars along the ridge of his abdomen, causing him to tense beneath your touch. "No mistakes, no regrets," you murmur, echoing the wisdom he'd shared before your first mission together two years earlier – wisdom that has served you well up to now.

Rick huffs out a laugh, a sound so foreign that it's hard to believe he is the source. "Beautiful sentiment, darlin'." But it seems to satisfy him, because he's closing the distance again, his lips finding your jaw.

Trapped between the press of Rick’s warm body and the cool metal lockers against your spine, your nerves are set alight. All the anger you were carrying around has faded now, giving way to pure, unfiltered desire.

His large hand replaces his thigh, swiftly parting your legs and cupping your covered core. "Been dreamin' about this," he admits roughly, dragging his fingers along your aching centre. "Dreamin' about all the ways I could stop that pretty mind of yours from racin' for a while. All the ways I could make you feel good."

Your head falls back, clanging against the metal, and all sense of reason abandons you. "Make me feel good, Rick."

Your breathless command unleashes him. He has you out of your sports bra and pants in a matter of seconds, that military efficiency apparent even in moments like this. “Should’a known,” he growls, as he palms a large hand over your breast. “Everythin' about you is so fuckin’ perfect.”

As you stand utterly naked before him, Rick's calloused thumb brushes over your peaked nipple, sending another pulse of heat straight between your legs. The white-hot need for him to touch you is almost unbearable, but instinct tells you that he's going to make you wait.

"Even better than I imagined." He continues in earnest, lowering his head and sealing his lips around your delicate pebbled flesh.

You barely recognise the sounds leaving your mouth as he worships your breasts with his wicked tongue; licking and sucking and teeth grazing until you start to come undone. He's expertly breaking you into pieces, leaving behind nothing but a flustered, needy mess.

When he pauses his ministrations to capture you in another claiming kiss, you seize the opportunity to reach for his belt. Your attention is centred on his arousal, which is visibly straining against the rough material of his tact pants. "Take them off,” you whine against his mouth, fingers frantically fumbling at his buckle.

Rick withdraws from your lips and steps back, flashing you an uncharacteristic smirk that has your thighs clenching tightly. "Still as impatient as ever."

Any quick-fire retort you might have planned dies on your lips as he complies with your wishes. His thick, capable fingers swiftly unfasten the silver belt buckle and you're left to stare unashamedly as his pants and boots join your own in a heap on the floor.

You can't believe it's taken so long for you to notice: Rick Flag is a study in perfection. You shouldn't be surprised to find that every part of his body is as long and thick and beautiful as the rest, as if he'd been carved by the gods themselves. You drink in the sight of him like you've been dying of thirst since the day you first met, your mouth watering when you try to imagine how good he'll feel buried inside you.

Because that's where this is going to end. The fuse has been lit and there's no choice now but to let the sparks fly.

Standing on tiptoes, you loop your arms around his neck and pull yourself closer, until you can feel his scorching length pressed against your stomach. He's bigger than you could have possibly imagined.

As his hands rise to cup your jaw, Rick’s dark gaze meets yours and tension crackles in the air. "Kiss me," he rumbles.

For the first time since you met him, your colonel doesn't have to tell you twice. You kiss him deeply and thoroughly, running your nails through the short hair at the back of his neck and revelling in the soft groans you're able to elicit from him. This new side of Rick steals your breath; his harsh lines and stern frown melt away beneath your touch, causing you to question everything you thought you knew.

It should scare you. It should fill you with doubt – how you've already crossed so many lines in such a small amount of time. But your brain has been short-circuited. The only thing you know with any certainty is how good it feels to be right here in the moment, wrapped up in Rick’s all-encompassing embrace.

But if Rick thinks he's solely in control here, he's very much mistaken. Catching his bottom lip between your teeth, you tug playfully. It earns you a deep growl, the sound vibrating through your chest as dampness continues to pool between your thighs.

"Touch me, Rick."

Rick proves himself just as capable of following orders as he is at dishing them out. His hand slides between your two bodies and when he finally reaches your centre, deft fingers glide along your wetness. The intensity of the pleasure catches you by surprise and you cry out desperately, legs buckling as you clutch at his shoulders.

He repeats the action, over and over, gathering up your slick until suddenly he pushes a finger inside you and lets out a string of filthy curses that makes your head spin. "Oh fuck, darlin'. Think this pussy's gonna destroy me."

If he carries on like this, he might just destroy you first.

In true Rick-fashion, he's diligent and methodical in his actions, carefully working you open until you can take two of his fingers, then three. He curls them up inside you, hitting that sweet, sweet spot over and over again, until the sounds of your desperate pants and moans rapidly fill the locker room.

Rick brushes his lips over your jaw. His breath is hot and his words are laced with a molten desire that surely matches your own. "If I knew it was this easy to get you to quit bitchin' at me, I wouldn't have waited so long."

Prickling at such a comment despite your building pleasure, you drop your hand and wrap your fingers around his shaft, squeezing tightly. Rick curses again, and when you run your thumb along his weeping tip he bucks his hips into your hand, shuddering beneath your touch.

"I think I like you better like this too," you smirk against his lips.

Deciding you're ready, that he's prepared you just enough, Rick spins you around roughly, pushing your chest into the lockers. Your nipples pebble against the cool metal and a surprised yelp bursts from your lips.

Rick doesn't seem to notice. He's too busy squeezing your waist with a bruising grip whilst his other hand forces your legs apart. Despite the forceful nature of his actions, he pauses for a moment to press a wet kiss between your shoulder blades. "Say you want me, darlin'," he rasps against your skin. "Say you want me and I'm yours."

Your palms hit the lockers, readying yourself for what's to come. "I want you."

Rick guides his cock between your folds once, twice, three times before he breaches you, filling you with a single stroke. The pressure is almost overwhelming but you take everything he gives you. In that respect, he has you well trained.

"Perfect," he grunts, buried to the hilt inside your pussy. "How could you not be?"

You bite down on your lip as he drags his hips back slowly before slamming into you again. The lockers rattle from the force.

"Don't go easy on me, Flag," you tease breathlessly, feeling your walls flutter around his throbbing length. "I'm a big girl. I can take it."

"I know you can, darlin'. You're gonna take it so fuckin' well."

The hand not gripping your waist traces the curve of your spine, rising higher until his fingers wrap around the delicate column of your throat. He applies just the whisper of pressure as his hips snap into you again, but it's enough to have you crying out for more.

In credit to Rick, he doesn't hold back. As he plunges into you at a relentless pace, you’re reduced to strangled sobs and moans, your fragile relationship with him breaking and reforming with every drag of his cock through your soaked channel.

You're not too far gone to understand that this might simply be an outlet for Rick's anger. A way to disperse whatever fear he felt towards your reckless behaviour on the mission. You are, however, too far gone to worry about that for now. You tuck the thought away, saving it for examination much later, focusing instead on the way he stretches and fills you so exquisitely.

"You're doin' so well, baby." Usually, Rick’s compliments are tinged with condescension, but not today. With each stroke of his cock he offers soothing praise that causes your cunt to convulse around him. "You look so fuckin' good like this."

You've always believed it a weakness to show emotion on the battlefield, but any thoughts about saving face in front of Rick are swiftly dissolved as he chases after your relief and his own. You cry out loudly when he tightens his grip on your throat, his other hand reaching down to strum your clit.

"Need you to come for me now, darlin'. I know you can do it. You're so good. So perfect."

He continues to coax you towards your climax, never faltering with his rhythm or his praise. Just like the countless missions he's led you on over the years, he's singularly focused on the outcome. You should have guessed he would make an attentive lover.

"Never gonna get over how fuckin' amazin' this pussy feels, baby. You've ruined me."

The band inside you suddenly snaps and your hands fly from the locker, fingernails digging into the flesh of his forearms as you ride the wave of your release. "Oh god, Rick."

As his name leaves your lips, his hips stutter violently and you feel him spill inside you, coating your walls with his spend. As he falls forward, his head tips against the curve of your neck and he presses another open-mouthed kiss to your skin.

"Darlin'..."

All at once, it's a promise and a plea. A prayer and a curse. There's so much to unpack in that one little word. But maybe it doesn't matter. At least not right now.

Maybe, like the kerosene and cloth of Harley’s beloved Molotov cocktails, you and Rick were always destined to ignite.

Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @sociiallydiisoriiented @yespolkadotkitty @weallhaveadestiny @bewitchedignition @lavenderluna10 @lacontroller1991 @ed-baldwin @phoenixhalliwell @immyownlittlebitch @mayhem24-7forever @s-u-t @littlefreakingfangirl @katjnordstrom96 @kirsteng42 @heresathreebee @christinasyellowflowers @xoxabs88xox @fairchildflag

[princessmisery666]

For make up title game: "I Would Do Anything For Love.... Including That"

Rick Flag x Reader.

Not beta’d. posted from my phone sorry if formatting is off.

You're pouting, full on toddler pouting because you think it will help sway Rick’s decision.

Rick knows he’s going to agree, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you, including what you’ve asked of him, despite the shit he knows he’ll get from Task Force X. But it will be worth every joke he receives because he likes the way you beg. The imploring tone you use, pressing your body against his, running your hands up and down the exposed skin of his arm, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. It sets him ablaze and he has to swallow down a groan.

If that weren’t enough to make him agree he especially loves that in order to get what you want you bribe him, offering him something he wants in exchange for something he’d do for free because he just wants to spend time with you.

“So I wear this to the movies?” Examining the multicoloured hoodie, “and you’ll come to the weapons seminar with me?” He asks, setting out the deal.

“Yes,” you say, looking up at him from under your lashes. “I promise.”

He’s getting the better half of the deal, spending eight hours giving lectures to rent a cops and then spending his evenings with you in exchange for him wearing a piece of clothing and sitting through a movie.

He sighs, faking that it’s an inconvenience but it’s really not. “Fine.”

“Yay,” you squeal, jumping up and kissing his cheek, “you're the best.” You skip toward the locker room, excitement not allowing you to keep your feet on the ground.

Rick watches you go, sighing sadly this time, “I love you.”

Though he’s not sure you haven’t already figured it out, maybe he’ll find the courage to tell you that soon. For now he’ll keep showing you, the best way he knows how.

Made up fic titles.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Surprise!

Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag

Summary: Rick loves sneaking up and scaring you when you least expect it. But turn about is fair play….

Word Count: 1371

(Fic is 100% inspired by this GIF)

You loved your boyfriend, but sometimes he could be a real jerk. Lately, Rick had gotten it into his head that his new favorite thing to do was to scare you. Well, more like surprise you. He would wait until you were coming out of the bedroom or walking down the hall, then he would use his Special Force stealth training to sneak up behind you and kiss your cheek, causing you to jump nearly through the ceiling. Or he would get home early from a mission and slide his arms around your waist while you were doing dishes, resulting in more than one broken glass. Or his latest endeavor had been tapping on your car window while you were checking emails on your phone, leading to you glaring back at his delighted face.

But the final straw came when you had arrived home after a really rough day at work. Throwing your keys onto the counter, you start searching through the refrigerator for any leftovers that might have been forgotten. You found an old container of Chinese food that still looked edible, so you grabbed a fork and started walking to the bedroom.

“Welcome home, darlin’.”

You jumped a foot into the air as you lost your grip on the container of food, shrimp and noodles spilling across the floor. You glared at the relaxed, grinning form of your boyfriend splayed out on the couch with a beer in his hand.

“Damn it, Rick! How many times do I have to tell you not to scare me like that! Now what I’m I supposed to eat?”

Rick held up his hands in self-defense. “Hey, I’ve been laying here for the past twenty minutes. It’s not my fault you’re not very observant. Besides, that stuff had been in there for over a week. I did you a favor.”

“You could have at least cleared your throat or given me some sort of sign you were there. We’ve talked about this!”

“I know, but you keep giving me the perfect opportunities. How am I supposed to just pass that up?”

You crossed your arms in annoyance. “Well, how would you like it if I scared you like that?”

He chuckled as he took another sip of his beer. “You could try, but I don’t get scared. Plus, I’ve been trained too well to let you get the drop on me.”

“Well, we’ll just see about that!” Turning around in a huff, you stormed off to the bedroom with Rick’s snickering following you down the hall.

For the first few days after the challenge had been issued, Rick was extra on edge, coiled like a spring just waiting for you to try something. But you were no idiot. You knew that if you wanted even the slightest chance to scare Rick, you needed to bide your time and wait until it wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. And slowly but surely, Rick began to relax again. He was no longer peeking around corners or entering a room as if scanning for armed gunmen. But it wasn’t until three weeks later that you finally got your perfect opportunity.

Your boss had given everyone an unexpected half-day so the IT Department could install updates on the office computers. This meant that you arrived back at the apartment early, but you didn’t think much of it until you opened the door and heard the shower running. A smile slowly stretched across your lips. Rick was expecting to have the apartment to himself for at least another four hours which meant…..

You heard the shower turn off and you quickly dove behind the couch, phone at the ready. There was no way you were going to miss the opportunity to catch this on film. You listened as the bathroom door opened and Rick’s feet padded down the hallway. Just as it sounded like he was at the edge of the living room, you burst up from your hiding spot and yelled, “Boo!”

It was even better than you had hoped. Rick was wearing nothing but his multicolored towel wrapped loosely around his waist. As you popped up, he jolted wildly, arms flailing and a surprisingly high-pitched scream coming from his lips. “Ahhh!!!...... Fuck!”

At this point, you were bent over, cackling in triumph and joy. You glanced up and were happy to see a small smile on Rick’s face.

“What? You think that was funny? Well, you got me good.”

Tears streaming from your eyes, you managed to choke out, “Oh my god! I’m sending this to everyone! Wait until Harley sees it! She’ll never show you any respect ever again! And DuBois! Has your old military buddy ever heard you screech like that?”

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Rick growled, but you could still see the twinkle in his eyes. He rushed over and tried to grab the phone from your hands, but you dodged, twirling just out of his reach. A wide shit-eating grin spread across your face as you hit the send button and then tossed Rick the phone. “Here you go!”

He stared dumbfounded at your phone now in his hand. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

A small ding could be heard as Rick’s phone alerted him to a new message. Picking it up off the counter where he had left it charging, he glanced at the screen and then rolled his eyes in your direction. Turning it to face you, you could see the video you had just sent him with the bold message “GOT YOU” right above it.

“We both know you were going to try to downplay the fact I actually scared you. Just say you were startled, or your instincts kicked in. So, I wanted to make sure you saw the proof because there’s no denying that! I got the drop on and scared the great Rick Flag!” You smugly crossed your arms over your chest, daring him to refute the evidence.

Rick sighed sadly. “No, you’re right, darlin’. A man’s got to know when he’s been beaten. You scared me.”

You walked over and wrapped your arms around his neck. “That’s right I did. Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

“No. I understand why it bothers you. I’m sorry, and I’ll stop.”

“Thank you, babe. That’s all that I ask.”

Rick ducked his head so it hovered just a few inches above yours. “You know…. That could have been pretty dangerous. I am a highly trained soldier. If I had my gun on me, I might have seriously hurt you.”

“I thought about that, but I figured the chances of you having your gun just after coming out of the shower were very low. And it’s not like you could really hide it in that towel.” You leaned in closer to kiss him, but something stopped you. Trying to hide your smirk, you said, “Well, maybe I was wrong…. It seems like you’re packing something under there.”

Blushing slightly, Rick murmured, “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” He closed the distance between you as his lips crushed into yours. You ran one hand through the damp hair on the back of his head as the other hand ran along the top of the towel, right where the material met his skin. Just as your hand started to ease it lower, Rick’s work phone began to ring. He sighed annoyedly as he stepped away from you to grab it. Growling at the terrible timing, he answered, “Flag here.”

“Oh. My. God.” You could hear Harley’s voice squeaking through the phone even without it being on speaker. “I can’t believe she did it! She got you so good!.... And speaking of so good, I really like what I’m seeing here, Colonel. How ‘bout you wear just that towel on the next mission?”

Rick glared daggers at you as you shrugged sheepishly. “I might have sent it to a few other people besides just you.”

Hanging up the phone, Rick took a few steps towards you, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Oh, you are so dead.” You squealed as you rushed down the hall towards the bedroom, Rick close on your heels as he slammed the door behind him, his towel dropping to the floor.

[lady-murderess]

SUICIDE SQUAD (2016) | DAVID AYER

[scandinavianfairytale]

In my mind

Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader

Warnings: 18+, cursing, alcohol consumption, horniness all around 🙈, mastrubation (m & f), mentions of oral (f receiving), bodily fluids, toys, overstimulation, squirting, description of fantasies (oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (please wear a condom - STDs are no joke!!), rough sex, groping, teasing, creampie)

The room of the pizza place was filled to the brim. The cheery and funny waiter had some issues getting around the tables to gather the orders. Rick was enjoying his well deserved beer and catching up with his friends after the long and final mission. He was unaware of who was sitting a feet away from him.

You've been working for the company around 6 months and the renewal of your contract was coming up. When your coworkers invited you for a "team-building" you gladly accepted, as you were already quite fond of them. They picked the famous pizza place in the center of the city, since they had the best pizza in town.

After drinking the first two rounds of double whiskeys and separate lemonades while waiting for the pizza, you walked to the toilets when in the window reflection you noticed none other than your ex-friend.

"Rick fucking Flag." You yelled as you spun around, making him choke on his beer.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Rick stood up from his seat, marching up to you and pulling you into a bear hug, holding you so strongly and lifting you off the ground.

"What brings you home?" He asked as he finally let you go.

"A job." You said looking at the big table full of the people you've grown close to in the past half a year. "I think I might stay this time." You smiled as you met his eyes again.

"I find that hard to believe." He murmured and smirked.

"Well we'll see, I still have three days to decide. What about you? Back from another mission?"

"The last one. I'm retiring."

"Now that's what I find hard to believe." You giggled.

"Best believe it. I made Colonel and I'm done with it."

"Congrats, I know that's the rank you wanted since I met you years ago. But what do you plan to do now?"

"I don't know. We'll see." Rick met your eyes and suddenly you realized how stuffy the room was and how good Rick smelled and how close he was to you. Excusing yourself and finally going to the bathroom you fanned yourself and hoped you didn't sweat too much.

After returning to the table you mingled a little with your coworkers and Rick throughout the night, before finally deciding to call it quits. Rick saw you off and just as you turned away, you turned back to him planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

"It was really good seeing you again, Rick." Smiling you slipped him your business card and walked away.

~Rick~

As the front door closed behind him, Rick let out a big exhale. He couldn't get you off his mind. He fished your business card out of his front jeans pocket and remembered how your hand grazed his thigh. His body twitched.

"I think I'm going to stay this time." Replayed in his mind as he stripped out of his clothes. What was the reason for this? He wanted to ask you so many things.

The water hit his chest and he sighed in content. He was hoping the cold shower might cool him down, but he couldn't get you out of his head and the more he thought about you the more the urge was growing. He wanted to touch you, to feel you, to hear you. His cock twitched as he remembered your red lips, the way your hand clasped his bicep as you laughed - a trait that seemed to have stuck with you. Rick sighed as he gave into his urge and his hand wrapped around his standing member, tugging at it.

"Fuck." He cursed, slamming his hand on the tiles as he shuddered, thinking about you on your knees or on his bed...anywhere, as long as he could unwrap you, explore you and worship you just as you deserved.

His hand sped up, his wet hair stuck to his forehead, teasing at the corners of his eyes, but all he could focus on was his fantasy of you. He groaned as he remembered how you threw your head back as you laughed. And he could picture you, on top of him, throwing your head back, pleading him for your release as his hands explored your curves.

"God...I wanna feel you so fucking bad..." Rick cursed again, smearing the precum all over his length, providing extra lubrication. He imagined the stains your lipstick would leave on his cock as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft. How your hair would feel in his fist as he forced your head down his cock, feeling your throat constricting around him as you struggled to breathe. How you'd sound with your mouth full of cock as he breached your throat.

"Shit." He moaned. He could almost hear you.

His cock was begging for release, but Rick wasn't done daydreaming and he released himself, panting heavily and laughed at himself for robbing himself of that high. Even though his hands weren't gripping his member anymore, his hips still moved as his body hasn't caught up to his mind and chased the sweet promised orgasm. His while body was shuddering from being denied that bliss. But he imagined your mischievous smirk, the one you always somehow tended to carry on your lips, and he knew if you'd have him in your mouth you'd take the peak away from him.

Leaning his forehead on the cool tile, panting his fantasy continued playing - he could still remember how your pussy tasted even after so many years. How you threw your head back as you came in his mouth. He still beat himself up for stopping the progression of the interaction, but at the time all he wanted was to show you how you should be treated. He didn't think either of you had the capacity for long distance relationship.

His cock throbbed as he thought about being in between your legs, his guiding your hand to his hair and you taking rains - bucking your hips, tugging at his hair. His hand returned to his cock, his fingers playing at the tip, stroking himself, imagining how deep he'd be able to reach you. The sounds you'd make as he fucked you as you're supposed to be fucked. He'd be rougher, especially after you'd deny his his peak. He started fisting himself quicker, squeezing a bit more as he pictured you nearing your release, how your walls would squeeze him and he groaned, his eyes slamming shut as he thought about the euphoria you'd both feel when you'd cum.

His load shot at the shower wall, oozing down the tiles and he panted deeply, his whole body shaking in pleasure. He pictured how your puffy pussy would look after a thorough fucking, leaking his seed as he came in you.

As Rick calmed down, he chuckled to himself and shut off the shower. Toweling his hair he walked to the business card he left on the bed and sent you a message, throwing his phone on the bed and inhaled deeply.

It was now or never.

~The other side of the city~

Your coworker and new friend pointed out the chemistry you shared with the mysterious man, the Colonel Rick Flag. You honestly thought you were over the crush you had on him, but then you saw him tonight and you were back in your dorm, with Rick between your legs after that truth or dare party that fot out of hand and you confessed that none of your exes ever went down on you.

You shook your head, as if trying to shake the thought of him. But it was so good to talk to him, he still smelled the same...closing your eyes you remembered the closeness of him in the restaurant. There was nowhere else to go, but his warmness radiated from him, wrapping around you, intoxicating you.

You couldn't resist it any longer, your heart was beating fast, your body was too hot and there was a need burning inside of you. Climbing in the shower to wash away the day, your thighs rubbed together, as your body tried finding some sort of friction. The second your soap covered hand came into contact with your sex, your resolve crumpled and you grabbed the shower head. Upping the pressure of the water, you positioned the head where you needed it the most and at first contact of the pressured water stream with your engorged clit you moaned loudly, slamming back at the tile, seeking support. Your other hand grabbed at your right nipple as you thought back to Rick eating you out. How he maneuvered your hand in his hair and one of his hands pawed at your tits.

"Fuck..." You cursed as you came, but weren't satisfied. Your hips bucked into the shower head, but you got no reprieve from the insatiable need that was driving you insane.

But then you remembered your rabbit vibrator...

Rushing out of the shower, you dried your skin and made a beeline to your bedside table where you fished out your trusted pleasure companion. Your pussy clenched as you awaited that first touch. Sitting on your knees and opening them you turned on the vibrator and breached your walls.

"Oh God..." You moaned as your hips took over and you started humping the vibrator. You haven't felt so needy in a long time.

You remembered when you touched him, how hard his muscles are and you imagined how good he'd feel as you'd climb on top of him, slamming him back on the bed. The groan he'd definitely let out when you'd finally sunk down on his cock. Throwing your head back as another orgasm washed over you.

"Good girl." Rick said as you came in his mouth so many years ago.

"Fuck...Rick, why?" You whined as you felt the vibrations deep inside of yourself. You just knew Rick would let you take control at least in the beginning. Gyrating your hips you thought about how his hands would wander and squeeze around your body. Simulating his wandering hands your free hand explored your body. You shivered as your fingertips gently traced your skin, moaning his name again.

You imagined how Rick would lose his patience as your bouncing turned to rocking and he'd bend his knees, getting the upper hand on you, taking over control. Leaning back on your hand, stepping on your toes to have better access, you started slamming the vibrator in and out of your slick.

"Oh God, I can't..." You whined as your poor pussy clenched around the vibrator, your clit abused as never before, yet the desire for completion was still there and you were so so so close.

You could feel your heartbeat thumping in your sex as the blood rushed to that spot. You thought about how he would flip you around and push your head into the pillows, grip your hips with bruising strength and bring you both to orgasm. His hand would sneak around your hips and rubbed at your clit, his hips speeding up and they'd falter as he'd cum in you, shooting his load into you, never letting go of your clit, until you'd explode around him, clenching around him.

Yelling out your release, the liquid shot out of you as you squirted right on your bedsheets. You fell back on the bed, your abdomen muscles trembled as the vibrator still buzzed inside of you and you panted completely exhausted, your body literally shaking from the aftershocks of the mind blowing orgasm.

After turning off the vibrator, cleaning yourself and changing the bed, you changed into your PJs and went to set the alarm for tomorrow.

It was good seeing you again. Can I buy you a drink tomorrow and catch up properly? - Rick

Embarrassment enveloped you, as you thought about what you were doing when he texted you. Face palming, you wanted the Earth to swallow you full...

Would 8pm work for you?

You shut off your phone and immediately felt the need rising again and you knew you'd need another session like this again if you were going to make it through drinks without pouncing on him in the middle of a bar.

Thank you for reading! 🙈🙈🙈

The GIF is not mine belongs to the amazing creator 🙏😊

I said to myself I wouldn't write smut as I'm not really good at it and yet here we are, my third smut fic 😅🙈

[filministic]

The Suicide Squad (2021) dir. James Gunn

[reveluving]

drown in your body ; rick flag x reader (ft benny miller)

summary: Benny knows he can only appreciate you from afar for so long, and despite his biggest threats, specifically, your husband and Benny’s own questionable morals, he can’t help but take a quick peek.

warnings: smut (minors DNI!), possessive af!Rick vs pervy af!Benny (whew)

a/n: everyone say tq to drown by Baekhyun because I was able to conclude the year by choosing violence and write this piece about Rick blowing your back, from the pov our fav menace <3 don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

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

» smut includes; unprotected & kinda rough sex, spanking, voyeurism, dirty talking, possessive & kinky Rick vs pervy & kinky Benny 🧎🏻‍♀️, kinda dark but not really?? they just really kinky fr fr

'Then again, what's the harm in just a quick peek and run, right?' ;

Benny knew he had reached a different kind of low just by doing this.

He didn't mean to, at first.

All he tried to do was pass you the mail that had been mistakenly sent to their house. The package looked pretty important, judging by the sheer size of it, so he thought to give it to you directly rather than leaving it on your porch.

He knocked, and knocked, and knocked, but no one answered. Not you, not Rick, not even the cat that loves to visit your house every other day. He had no reason to try and turn the doorknob, but he definitely wasn't expecting it to be unlocked. Whether his reason for trespassing had anything to do with stubbornness or worry, the latter because he feared something had happened to you, was uncertain, but the package in his hands was no longer his priority at the moment.

No, it was the distant moan coming from upstairs.

It should've been his cue to scram, to pray that you or Rick had forgotten about whether or not one of you brought the mail in, to control his sick curiousity and avoid getting killed.

Literally.

But, oh, those noises were so tempting, so melodious, so needy. He only realized his feet were moving on their own when he reached the bottom of the stairs. He didn't move for a hot minute, mentally arguing with his inner demons for being so depraved for you the way he is. Or maybe, it was the fact that he could hear Rick's grunts in between your yelps.

Will would have his head for this.

But, who's to say Santi and Frankie wouldn't do the same either?

Then again, what's the harm in just a quick peek and run, right?

Well, everything. He could be dead on the spot.

He's seen the displays of affection you two have for each other, Rick doing so to spite the group as well but as much as Benny hated to admit it, he could see the true love both of you shared. He was grateful you found happiness just as he was disheartened that that happiness wasn't him.

But, as long as your husband was treating you well, then why should he complain? And judging by the sounds you're making upstairs, he definitely was.

He sighed, knowing he was a lost cause when he slowly ascended the stairs, testing any parts of the thread that could give him away with unnecessary creaks. He even held onto the handrails like a lifeline, but

The sight in the hallway brought him to a halt— eyeing the dress that lay on the floor slowly filled him with anticipation. Rick's suit jacket was barely hanging on the console table but what caught his eyes was the flimsy material peeking out of the pocket.

Your lacey panties.

Oh, Benny knew he was done for.

He quickly tried to navigate the room before he could even think about the idea of snatching for future use, his only guide was the noises coming from the bedroom, which was at the other end of the floor. Benny had no one to blame but himself, giving in to his curiousity and investigating like an airheaded character in a horror movie.

The closer he got to the door, the smaller his steps became, fearing that one bold movie would give his position away and have his funeral right then and there. And yet, his possible fate didn't steer him from his goal, his cock growing harder since his less-than-welcomed arrival.

And lo and behold, he reached the jackpot. His heart was racing faster than he thought was healthy, but just as he was thinking with his dick, he peeked. Despite the pep talks he gave himself, he could've given himself away when he nearly choked at the sight he was blessed with.

With your face nuzzling the blankets and ass up, Rick relentlessly thrust his hips into yours. He threw his head back, sliding his hand up and down the perfect curve of your spine before smacking your pretty ass. Hard. Each spank he presented drew little yelps out of you, the man above towering over you chuckling darkly every time you did.

Oh, what he wouldn't do to have you underneath him.

The dazed look on your face as you bite into the sheets was hypnotizing. Those sweet red lips that he wants to both kiss and see wrapped around his cock. Just as Benny began palming his cock over his sweatpants, he then noticed your bounded hands, the silky royal blue material was likely Rick's tie. He patted himself on the back, his speculation of you and Rick celebrating what was likely your anniversary was brief when his attention reverted back to your fists, flexing helplessly as Rick picked up the pace.

And to think he once found you intimidating. But just like the first time he met you all those years ago, he still found you very, very hot.

"Rick..!" His name and whatever incoherent nonsense you were trying to tell him were all you could say, as if your brain had into mush, which, frankly, it had. He cooed almost condescendingly dipping his head next to yours. Though his wet hair gave Benny little to know information about what he was whispering about but judging by your little whimpers, it was probably just as obscene as the sounds of his hips slamming against yours.

"Fuck," He growled, snapping his hips when you bucked yours, "You know exactly what you're doing to me, clenching on my cock like that. Dirty girl, aren't ya?"

"I-I am!" You whined, releasing the sheets out of your lips with the lewdest expression Benny's ever seen, "Y-Your dirty girl!"

Fuck.

To have you react in such a way, to be the one to pull himself back just enough to surprise you when he trusts back into you, feeling those tight walls flex around him.

That wet pussy of yours was practically calling him in like a siren.

He could imagine how soaked you were. He’d go as far as licking the sheets if he had to. All for just a taste. Fucker probably gets to taste you every day, Benny thought with great displeasure, and who was he kidding, he probably did.

Benny bit down on the collar of his shirt at the same time your pitch grew higher. He wanted to scream—he couldn’t groan in your ears the way he wanted to, he couldn’t cum all over your beautiful body the way he needed, and he most certainly couldn’t have you the way he yearned for. He couldn’t get too lost in the moment and yet, he was glued to the spot. You were close, and so was Benny, and he knew he couldn’t stay for long. No, it was too risky to stay till the very end.

Just as he questioned his chances yet again, something, or rather, someone threw all of his thoughts out of the window.

“Ain’t she a sight for sore eyes?”

Benny stilled, the heartbeat in his ears was suddenly the loudest it's ever been. He should’ve just run, but being the typical stubborn man he was, he slowly looked back, seeing not just Rick, but you look up at the half-opened door. Through your tears of pleasure, you stared back at the man with wide eyes, but your husband, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to commit a murder, like a bull seeing red and wanted nothing more than to hunt the poor fuckers down. You gasped, teeth grazing the sensitive part of your shoulder before angling his thrusts, effortlessly hitting your sweet spot.

"Better close the door on your way out, kid."

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @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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[cigamfossertsim]

harley: thank you sir

rick: dont call me sir

harley: thank you maam

[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.