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#rick flag
ballroombastardz · 2 months
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a-reader-and-a-writer · 2 months
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I love the trope of the badass character who can face impossible odds time and time again and still walk away. The ones who can take on an entire room of guards or a league of assassins by themselves through their fighting skills, marksmanship, or intellect.
However, nothing bores me more than when this character does this and walks away without a scratch. It just shows there are no real stakes and the character is never in any real danger so what's the point?
Instead, give me a hero outnumbered 30 to 1 and who still wins, but they are shot up, bloody, bruised, and broken. Let them barely make it back to their safe house before collapsing in pain and exhaustion. Let them have to be patched up or out of commission for a while so they can heal. THEN I will believe there are actual stakes to future conflicts and there is a chance that character might not make it out the next time. Doing this will leave me on the edge of my seat the next time they find themselves in a similar situation instead of just sighing as they once again avoid hundreds of bullets without a scratch.
Without showing that they are human who aren't perfect and can actually be hurt, you lose so much empathy and emotional attachment to the character.
So, let them bleed. Let them be in pain. Let them struggle. Then let them get back up and continue on despite all of that.
That's the badass I want to see.
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keefechambers · 6 months
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TASK FORCE X + DND CLASSES
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2-guns-b1tch · 26 days
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Saw this trend on twitter and I though it fitted them
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reveluving · 6 months
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the bump in the night ; rick flag x reader
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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 🕷️'!
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'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. 
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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. 
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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 . · ˚
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» a/n: ahh hubby rick <3 ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡
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drabbles-mc · 8 months
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All Settled
Rick Flag x F!Reader (past: Rick Flag x June Moone)
For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: caught in a storm
Warnings: 18+, language, pining, arguing, light angst
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: They're aruging, they're pining, they're stuck in an airport together. We love to see it! also idk i might write more for these two eventually I'm not sure i just don't know but there are Vibes i might explore later lmao
Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon @beardburnsupersoldiers @words-and-seeds (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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It was perfect, really. Not in the way that it was good, but in the way that it happened and all you could do was laugh, shake your head, and think to yourself, “Of fucking course.”
“This funny to you?” Rick asked, clearly not as amused as you as he dropped his bag to the floor with a loud thud. It wasn’t nearly as loud as the clap of thunder that sounded right before he’d spoken to you, though.
“I mean,” you said with a shrug, also letting your bag slip down off your shoulders, albeit with less drama, “it’s a little funny to me, yeah.”
He shook his head, scuffing the toe of his boot along the tiled floor. You could tell by that and the tightness of his jaw alone that he was fighting the urge to punt his own bag across the floor. “Glad you think so.”
You didn’t let it faze you—Rick and his short fuse weren’t anything new to you at this point. “Yeah, because getting mad about it like you are seems to be so much better.”
He opened his mouth to fire back at you, but he stopped himself when he saw the traces of amusement on your face, that you were just going to take whatever he said to you in that moment and flip it right back onto him. You were one of the few people in the world that he would request time and time again to assist with Task Force X whenever he could, whenever he got enough leash to bring in an extra body on his side of things. But it didn’t make him any less annoyed with you in moments like this.
“Don’t get your panties in a knot, Flag,” you said as you dropped into one of the many empty chairs behind you. Lightning flashed outside, bright light coming through all the airport windows for a split second. “We’ll be outta here first thing in the morning.”
He shook his head, trying to figure out if he wanted to pace and be angry about the situation, or sit down next to you and be angry about it instead. His exhaustion won out just enough to get him to sink down into the chair beside yours.
“Made it through all that shit, and we get stuck on the layover. That’s,” he shook his head, “that’s just…”
“Perfect,” you finished for him with a laugh. You looked over at him, watching as he shook his head and tried not to look like he wanted to laugh right along with you. “Look at the bright side,” you stretched your legs out in front of you, crossing one over the other, “least we didn’t get stuck in this storm with the rest of the team.”
The sigh he puffed out turned into a laugh, shaking his head as he thought about the scenario you’d just put into his head. “Fuckin’ A.”
“Exactly.” You let your head drop back to rest against the top of the seat. You stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds in silence before saying, “We should’ve gotten a hotel room.”
Now it was his turn to laugh at you. “Seriously? We’ve been stuck out,” he gestured vaguely, not wanting to say exactly where even though there weren’t many people around, “you know, and you’re gonna bitch about sleeping in an airport?”
Turning your head to look at him, you raised your eyebrows and replied, “I’m off the clock, Rick—I’d like to sleep in a real bed if at all possible.”
He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “Poor thing,” he mocked.
You laughed, elbowing his arm off the rest that separated your chair from his. Like he had any right to give you grief about complaining at this point. “Fuck you.”
Neither of you said anything for a bit after that. The two of you sat there in your insanely uncomfortable airport chairs, with posture that wasn’t fit at all for the caliber of soldier that the both of you were. Both of you were watching the few people who were stuck at the airport with you. Your flight had been one of the last, but it seemed like a couple others that were scheduled to leave late got pushed off until the morning. No one was dedicated enough to getting a hotel room to go outside in the rain and wind to get a cab. So you watched everyone putting together makeshift beds of their own out of their luggage, draping themselves across chairs. Whatever it took to be at least mildly comfortable.
You’d been still and quiet for so long that Rick thought that you might’ve fallen asleep. Tilting his head, he glanced over at you to find you very much awake. Your eyes were fixed on the small cluster of people who were at the gate across from yours. Among them was a woman with two children, young enough that they thought this was all so fun and exciting.
“Why do you always say yes?” he asked you, watching you as you watched everything around you.
Your face contorted in confusion but you still didn’t turn to face him. “Hm?”
“When I put in the request for you, why do you always say yes?”
You chuckled, finally facing him. “Why do you keep requesting me?”
“’Cause I know you won’t let me get shot.”
You laughed at that, trying not to be too loud as everyone continued to hunker down to go to sleep. “Yea, I guess that’s fair.” You pulled your legs up, feet resting on the edge of your seat as you wrapped your arms so that your hands interlocked and rested on your shins. “Maybe I just like making sure you don’t get shot.”
He smiled, a tiny grin that was briefly illuminated by another strike of lightning. “Can’t like it that much.”
You arched your brow. “Want me to start saying no? Leave the big bad Colonel all on his own?”
He shook his head at you. “Not what I said. I just, I don’t know.” He crossed his arms, letting them rest over his stomach as he looked at the same place you’d just been looking. “You always seemed like you were looking to settle down. This,” he laughed, “this shit ain’t settled.”
You hummed in amusement as you nodded. “It’s not.” You paused. “I’m just, I don’t know, guess I haven’t really found someone to settle with yet. Not gonna give this up with no reason to.” You waited for him to look at you. “Lucky for you, though, huh?”
He nodded, gave you a quick smirk, but he didn’t say anything else in response. You couldn’t tell if there was more that he wanted to say. Either way, it didn’t matter much. He sunk down a little farther in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him. The heel of his boots rested just on the far side of his ridiculously large duffle bag, ensuring that no one would be able to try and snatch it without him noticing. You shook your head at the precaution—it didn’t seem like anyone in present company was going to want any of his fatigues and t-shirts that hadn’t been washed in a week. You let him have that, though. You watched as his chin dropped and tucked towards his chest, eyes falling closed even though he probably wouldn’t actually fall asleep for a long time.
“Think you’re ever going to?” you asked, propping your chin on your knees as you did.
His eyes were still shut as he asked, “Ever gonna what?”
“Settle down?”
His eyes slowly opened, muscles tensing as he processed the two-word question. “I don’t know.”
You were nearly kicking yourself for ruining the moment. Things were fine. You didn’t have to pry, but you did it anyway. You just couldn’t let things lie—it was a habit you always meant to work on and never got around to it.
“Sorry,” you said, your voice tentative in a way that it hardly ever was with anyone, least of all with Rick.
He looked at you, brows meeting in confusion. “For what?”
You knew that answering the question was just going to dig a deeper hole, but you also knew that you weren’t going to be able to ignore the question, either. Stubbornness was one of the traits that you and Rick shared.
You shrugged, wishing that you could pull your legs in farther, make yourself smaller and disappear out of this conversation. “It’s not my business. I know that…it’s just…I know since June you sorta just—”
“Got it,” he cut you off.
You fought the urge to sigh with everything in you. You were annoyed with yourself, but you were annoyed with him too. “Right.”
There was just enough of a shift in your tone to keep him hooked into the conversation, even though it was evident that neither of you wanted to continue it. “What?”
You shook your head. “I’m not doing this with you, Rick.” He went to try and argue but you kept talking before he could. “You don’t wanna talk about it so we’re just, we’re not gonna talk about it. Forget I fuckin’ said anything.” There was a long stretch of silence and before you could use any impulse control you said, “But to be fair, you asked me first.”
He sighed. “We doin’ this right now?”
“What this are you referring to, exactly?” you snapped, voice hushed. The rain beating down and echoing against the roof helped to hide some of your conversation.
“Since when do you wanna talk about that? About all my shit? About, about June?” He hesitated on it but he still managed to get the question out. You couldn’t remember the last time he actually said her name.
You were too caught up in your frustration to empathize about it though. “Are you serious?” You let your feet drop back to the floor, adjusting yourself in your chair so that your entire torso was turned and facing him. “You’re gonna sit there and pretend that I’m the one who never wanted to talk about it?” You scoffed. “Fuck’s sake, Rick. The only reason I found out the two of you broke up in the first place was because Boomer made some asshole comment and you nearly tossed him out of the helicopter. You have never wanted to talk to me about all of that. About anything, really.”
Rick’s fists were clenched at his sides, trying to keep himself from getting too defensive but you weren’t making it easy for him. You never did. He didn’t make it easy for himself, either. “Hey—”
“Actually, now that I think about it,” you cut him off, “you never talk to me about anything outside of work. You know all about me, but I don’t know shit about—”
“That’s not true,” he interjected, voice firm enough to give you pause. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
Your shoulders slumped in defeat at that. He wasn’t wrong. But you weren’t completely wrong either. You both knew plenty about each other but there were always a series of walls that Rick kept up, ones that you never got around to building for yourself. Moments like that made it hard not to feel the distance.
“Whatever,” you finally said, not wanting to give in and actually tell him that he was right.
He was still shaking his head at you as he went back to staring at his boots. “Don’t know why you care so much anyway—not like you ever liked her.”
“What? I,” you sputtered as you shook your head, “I had no problem with June. What are you talking about? I barely even knew her.”
It was true. Outside of the events of Midway City, you had next to no contact with June. Rick was pretty much her sole protective detail, hence how the rest of their entire situation played out. You were part of his team that time around too, although despite being his right hand, you were far from the top of his priority list the way that you were all the times after that when you guys handled ops together. But that was the only time you ever really spent around June, and to say that you really spent it with her would’ve been a stretch even under the most forgiving circumstances. But still, you never had a problem with her.
He let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle—either way it was full of attitude. “Right.”
You huffed, shaking your head. “Fuck you.”
You angled yourself away from him, turning your body so that you were facing forward again. Part of you wanted to get up and walk to another part of the airport. It would’ve been pointless, though. In just a few more hours the two of you would be sitting next to each other on the plane anyway. There was no escaping him until the trip was over. For a split second, you let yourself indulge in the thought that maybe next time you’d say no when he asked you to tag in.
“Should’ve gotten out when she did,” you mumbled.
You heard the sound of his clothes rustling as he turned to look at you. “What was that?”
You didn’t hesitate, not looking at him but speaking just a little louder, and a whole lot clearer. “I said you should’ve gotten out when she did.” You turned and looked at him, wanting to hit him with the full weight of what you were going to say next. “Maybe then you’d still—”
“Don’t fuckin’ go there,” he said, tone low but brimming with anger.
You rolled your eyes, slumping back against the chair. “Yes, sir.”
There were only about ten seconds between your response and him speaking up again, but those seconds felt like hours to Rick as he tried to force himself to just be honest instead of angry for once. Or at least be honest while he was being angry.
“It was because I wouldn’t give it up,” he finally said, bitterness coating his voice.
Your face scrunched in confusion for a moment before you turned your head to look at him. “What?”
“She left because I wouldn’t give it up. She wanted nothing to do with any of it after everything that happened. I got that. She was just waiting for me to walk away from it too.”
“You got into this shit for her—why didn’t you walk away?”
“Think Waller was just gonna let me walk?”
You shrugged. “Not at first. But she’d get tired of fighting you eventually.” You paused. “She probably would’ve ended your entire military career though.”
“Yeah,” he scoffed, “no thanks.”
“How long did it take her to realize you weren’t gonna quit?” you asked, figuring that if he was gonna open the door you might as well take a peek inside.
He shook his head. “Longer than it should’ve for someone as smart as she is.”
“Love makes you stupid.”
He let out a laugh, one that was one part sadness, one part humor. “Yeah, it does.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. Not on you.”
“You really love this shit, huh?” you asked, really processing the full weight of what he was telling you. Rick had turned his whole life on its head to save June. He said it himself that she was the only woman he’d ever really cared about. From the way he was acting during everything leading up to what happened at Midway City, you were certain that he would’ve done anything for her. But apparently not.
If he laughed you couldn’t hear it over the rumbles of thunder. “’Bout as much as I hate it.” He looked over at the windows for a moment, able to see the rain pelting down in the dark, then he looked back at you. “Stupid, right?”
You chuckled quietly. “That’s how you know you love it.”
“What’s your excuse, then?” he asked. “Because I know you sure as shit don’t love this.”
You rolled your eyes, smiling in the hopes that it would hide all of the thoughts that were racing through your brain because of his question. “Just an adrenaline junkie now, I guess.” You looked over at him. “Regular military ops just don’t do it for me anymore.”
He was slowly starting to let the tension drop out of his shoulders, his guard slowly coming back down as the both of you began to get back to some sort of common ground. “That’s it, huh?”
It wasn’t the time to get into it. It probably wouldn’t ever be the time to get into it. “That and, like you said, someone’s gotta keep you from getting shot.”
He was shaking his head at you, but at least this time he was almost smiling while he did it. The two of you had always had that going for you—no matter how quickly things tensed up between you, you usually managed to cool back down almost as quickly. Some of that was from all the years and hours you’d spent together, some of it was because in the situations you found yourselves in out in the field, there was no time for grudges so it was best to just let shit go if you could. But for yourself, you also knew that there was an element of not wanting to hang onto that, not with him. It’s why you’d always say yes when he asked you.
For a few seconds it was quieter than it had been. The rain lightened enough to not be echoing as it fell against the roof. The thunder and lightning subsided, and the conversation between you hit a lull. So when Rick cleared his throat, it seemed louder than it really was.
You turned to look at him and found him already staring at you. You raised your eyebrows, silently prompting him to say whatever it was that he was gearing up for. His brows scrunched for a split second, a final hesitation but he was still going to go through with it.
“We’re…?” he trailed off, his tone enough to fill in the rest of the question for him.
You smiled, nodding. “We’re good. Don’t worry,” you shifted in your chair so that you were leaning against his side, your head resting on his shoulder, “I won’t leave you hanging next time you call.”
He chuckled, wanting to shake his head and come back with a snarky remark, but he didn’t have it in him. Tilting his head, he looked over at you and for the first time in a long time, he felt a pull of something deep in his chest. A feeling that he wasn’t sure he could afford to put too much stock in. He let his head drop to rest against yours. “Thanks.”
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fantasylandloser · 4 months
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Orders
Paring: Rick Flag x Reader
Warnings: mention of imprisoned reader/ angry Rick/ injury to reader/ mentions of death/ lmk if you see anything else
Disclaimer: what is editing? what is a coherent plot? what is writing?
enjoy :)
***************
You weren’t known to disobey orders. Originally you had been trying to get as much time off your sentence as possible and did your best on missions, so that they would continuously use you. Without meaning to you became an invaluable asset to Waller, so much so that she granted you your freedom or at least her version of it. 
She demanded that you go on multiple missions with task force X. Waller also paraded your ‘redemption’ in front of any committee or anyone who had money or power she could use by her side. She made you wear a bracelet that dampened your powers, originally it had been a heavy piece of metal that hung around your neck like a collar before she switched to something more bearable. She also placed you under the eye of Rick Flag. Every mission he was on, you were there as well. His orders led you on and off the field. 
And usually, you followed them. It was easier that way. Usually. 
“You do not disobey a direct order!” Your face was heated from being publicly reprimanded, and the anger you were beginning to feel. You say nothing and avoid his heated gaze not wanting to lose control while your powers were still free. 
“You do not have the privilege of ignoring orders!” He reminded you, angrily. At his words, and the reminder that you were not truly free, you vaguely felt your control on your emotions slip but you continued to stand at attention.
“That’s cold.” Deadshot mutters to Harley, who he’d barely seen since their first mission together. 
“As ice.” Harley agreed. 
They are both surprised by the events of the mission. You’re usually the goody two shoes of the group. In another life you definitely would have been a soldier from the start, but tonight Flag was in danger and you risked the mission and your life to save him. Flag was furious and deadshot had a feeling it was less about the mission and more about you. 
“You listen to me! That’s your only job. That’s all you have to do! What you did tonight was idiotic!” You’re usually more stoic around the group, a measure you’ve taken to protect yourself but the more Rick lays into you the more visibly upset you become. 
It was no secret that you were one of if not the most powerful on the team. So when your eyes start to glow and then your hands, and second later you’re engulfed in the light your power causes, looking like you were about to explode, Deadshot thought it was time to intervene. 
“Your ass would be dead if she hadn’t disobeyed your orders, Flag. And the mission is complete, that's what matters right?” But Rick didn’t care, he couldn’t see past his own rage on what could have happened. 
Rick approaches you, bracelet in hand, the one that he’s the only one authorized to put on and take off. “We’ll talk about the consequences later.” You wordlessly offer him your wrist, that you only now realize is glowing, you focus just enough to get it to go away from that area so it doesn’t hurt him, even though he deserves it. 
'Am I dismissed?’ Is all you say once he’s done, obviously detaching yourself from him. He only nods which is good enough for you.
****
Most people would be happy to go home after a hard day at work and their boss being on their ass, but you lived with your boss. Something else you could thank Waller for.
The ride home was tense, where the two of you would usually debrief. And the house seemed to be even more silent. 
Rick found himself calming down but you were livid. Not that it truly mattered. You were basically just his prisoner, not his friend like you allowed yourself to believe. 
You carried your anger towards him for days. Unwilling to speak and trying to be as far as you were allowed to be away from him. Which was hard considering that the two of you did damn near everything together. 
“Are you really still mad?” Rick huffs, finally having enough when you sparred with someone else, leaving him with a new recruit. 
“No sir.” You say, which only infuriated Rick more. He’d never seen someone detach themself so politely. He really had no clue how you were ever a criminal. 
“Cut the bullshit.” He sighs, running a hand down his face.  “You’re my friend, talk to me.”
“Wrong. I’m your prisoner.” You correct. “Your employee, your slave, those are actually true.”
Rick's face turns dark. “You are not my slave.” 
“I’m not your friend either.” You retort. 
“We were friends a week ago.”
“Then you reminded me of my place. Thank you for that.” You’re sure that no amount of petty will hide how hurt you are. It still wouldn’t hurt to try.
“You disobeyed an order!” Came his booming voice, which you’re sure they heard outside his office. 
“To save your life. Don’t worry I won’t do it again. I learned my lesson.” Rick can’t help but sigh knowing that's not how he wanted the conversation to go.
*******
You did not learn your lesson. Rick stared at you intensely from his spot on the helicopter. Surprisingly he hadn’t said a word yet but you knew it was coming. It had barely been a week since you told him you wouldn’t do it again. During said week you have barely spoken to him, which led him to be nicer than usual because he wanted your friendship back. You were sure that was gone. 
When you and the rest of the squad lands, instead of talking to everyone like he usually does he calls your name gruffly. “My office. Now.�� You can’t help the irritation and the slight pinch of dread you feel. Last week the consequences he’d given you were brutal workouts that left you sore for days. You still felt the effects of them and you weren’t in the mood for more.
Once the door was closed behind you, Flag slumped in his chair. He looked genuinely exhausted and you imagine he must be. You wait for him to speak, not wanting to escalate the situation further. 
“Sit down. I know you’re tired.” It’s a trap. You do so hesitantly. 
Rick can’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. He can’t help the fact that he’s exasperated and he doesn’t truly know why. Any leader would be happy to know that the soldiers that stood behind him were willing to die to protect him. And maybe once he could remember feeling that way, but he could also remember being more proud to get them home safely .
 Rick stares at you for a good two minutes without breaking eye contact, before glancing at the clock on the wall. “Do you have something you want to say?” He asks you. Definitely a trap. 
“It’s my job to protect you, sir.”The formality you tack on at the end let’s Rick know how you’re going to try to play this conversation. 
“It is your job to listen to me.” He corrects, which you have to refrain from rolling your eyes at. 
“It’s your job to try to get everyone home in one piece. Including yourself. Also, asshole if you die where the fuck do I go?” You ask, frustratedly scoffing at the look of realization on his face. “When you get over your death wish then I’ll start to listen to you again.”
Rick falls silent again as he thinks over your words. “Am I dismissed?” You ask, the tone of your voice conveying your anger. But you also urgently needed to get away from him. 
“No.” He answers, ignoring your huff of frustration. “Do you have anything else you want to say to me?” 
“You wouldn’t want to hear anything I have to say to you.” Your disregard for respect is noted, but at the moment it’s not what he’s concerned about. 
“You’re hurt.” He says finally, watching as shame creeps up on your face. “What reason do you have for not reporting your injuries?” He asked blankly, his southern drawl making him sound less upset than he was, but you knew better. 
Rick watched surprise take over your face at the fact that he knew. “It’s not that bad.” You tell him. That was a lie though, and the only reason you hadn’t said anything is because you didn’t want to give him anymore reason to be mad over you ignoring his orders. Also you would be pissed to hear I told you so. 
Rick sighs, he‘s exhausted, angry, worried and frustrated and the last thing he feels like dealing with is you lying to his face.
Without another word, he stands from his seat. He’s not in the mood to argue, especially when you’re clearly wrong. When he kneels in front of you, you blanch a little  unsure of what he’s doing when he takes out his pocket knife. 
He makes quick work of cutting your suit to see the affected area. You start to protest but it dies on your lips when he glares at you, leaving you unaware of the pout that settles there instead. You wince once you see the bruised area that leaves your skin discolored. It looks worse than you thought it would. 
“That’s definitely broken.” He states. He presses softly against the bruise, eliciting a hiss from you. You hear him mutter under his breath ‘not that bad’ mockingly. 
Even though you know you shouldn’t say anything and you’re not in the position too you can’t help yourself. “You know a little gratitude wouldn’t hurt.” And because you’re a pain in the ass you add, “Even if I’m just your prisoner.” 
The look he flashes you is bordering deadly. “You want me to thank you for the stupid shit you keep pulling in the field.” You squint at him defiantly, adrenaline still crashing through your veins from the events because you shouldn’t even have the energy to argue with him, but you do. 
“The stupid shit that saved your life? Yeah.” Rick is astonished by your insubordination, it’s new and most likely a product of you being frustrated by your circumstances. He laughs a little, obviously pissed.
You’re surprised when he grips your jaw in one hand and pulls your face closer to him. “I’m only gonna say this once, and you’re gonna listen since you’re so convinced that I own you. “ He speaks slowly. “There are a thousand men just like me. They were trained the same, they think the same, they live the same life as me. There is only one you.” Rick takes in the way your eyes are almost bambi like and basically a window into your naivety trying to avert your gaze. He knows you hate to hear it. You hate being told how special you are, you don’t believe it. 
“Look at me.” You do.He's still holding your jaw, but his grip is softer now and you could pull away, but you don’t.
“Nobody out there is like you. Nobody. And you could really change the world when you get out of this mess, for good. Stop trying to save me all the time. I can take care of myself.” You purse your lips knowing that if it came down to it again you would do the same. He knows that.
“Sir, yes sir.” You say jokingly, your smile wobbly and your eyes wet. “Your best pep talk yet.” You inform him. 
He grins at you exasperated, but willing to let it go. 
“Let’s go to the med bay, before you pass out.” 
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owyn-cormac · 2 months
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lacontroller1991 · 1 year
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Bull Ride (Rick Flag x F!Reader)
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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.
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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."
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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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munohlow · 1 year
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*remembers Margot Robbie was in two things*
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star-reyes · 3 months
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They're really letting anyone through the rainbow doors at DC comics. RICK FLAG???
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captastra · 9 months
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Rick Flag & Harley Quinn - The Suicide Squad (2021)
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blackbat05 · 1 year
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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😩
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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.
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possession · 2 years
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Harley Quinn and Rick flag’s friendship development in the DCEU
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ilikestuff69 · 7 months
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‘The Suicide Squad’ (2021)
Directed by James Gunn
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drabbles-mc · 9 months
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A Bet's A Bet
Rick Flag x F!Reader
For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo Square: lost a bet
Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, pining
Word Count: 3.6k
A/N: I love him, what else can I say? 😂 I love to see a gruff, grumpy man squirm a little bit lmao.
Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge @beardburnsupersoldiers @words-and-seeds @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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“This is ridiculous,” Rick muttered as he picked the shot glass up from the surface of the bar.
You laughed as you watched him drink it, his head tilted back for a moment. He hardly even cringed. “I mean, you sort of set yourself up for it.” The offended look on his face was impossible to miss and it only made you laugh harder. “What? He’s literally so good at shooting people that they let him back out of prison to do it. Did you really think that you were going to beat him?”
“You don’t think I could?”
You shook your head before taking a sip of your beer. “I think that remains to be seen.” You flagged down the bartender and asked them to bring Rick another shot. You saw the look he gave you and laughed. “What? The bet was two shots and one—”
“I know, I know,” he grumbled, begrudgingly downing the second shot before looking back over at you again, “Just didn’t think that you would sell me out like that.”
You hummed in amusement even though you knew that he most likely couldn’t hear you over the noise of the bar. “I’m here to keep you honest, Flag.”
The shot glass made a loud clattering sound as he practically tossed it back onto the bar. “I think I might be the only honest one here.” He heard the dramatic gasp you let out at his statement and he laughed before looking over at you. “Yea. Including you.”
Your offended façade only lasted a moment longer before you started laughing again. “Fuck off. If you didn’t want me here, I wouldn’t be.”
“You know I don’t pick—”
“You don’t get to pick anyone from the roster in Belle Reve,” you pointed at him with the beer bottle in your hand, “but you do get to pick who’s gonna be on your team if they’re not behind bars.” His silence spoke volumes and you laughed in triumph. “And here I am yet again!”
“Shut up and drink your beer,” he said, shaking his head like you couldn’t spot the way the ends of his mouth were beginning to curl into a smile.
“Alright,” you took another swig, “but when I’m done, you gotta—”
“I know what I gotta,” he cut you off as he leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the edge of the bar.
“You make it sound so unbearable.” You couldn’t help but to laugh at his dramatics.
He turned around so that he was facing the dance floor. Leaning, he rested back against the bar. He spoke to you even though his eyes were scanning the rest of the bar and the dancefloor to keep an eye on the rest of your team.
“How long you known me?” he asked, still not looking at you.
You laughed as you maneuvered to copy his position. “Too fuckin’ long at this point, I think,” you joked.
“Right,” he agreed with a nod before finally looking over at you. “And in all that time, when the hell have you ever seen me dance?”
You opened your mouth to argue with him, but then you snapped it shut again when you realized that you really hadn’t ever seen it. Not even way back when you were all deployed together and had downtime to fuck around between ops. Things got crazy when the whole squad had too much time on their hands, but no matter the volume of the music or the number of drinks that were passed around, Rick never danced. He got up to plenty of other ridiculous and irresponsible things, but not that.
“Holy shit,” you finally said with a laugh.
His lips flattened into a thin line and he have a single nod. “Yea.”
“Wait a second,” you shut your eyes tight for one moment as your brain started putting all of the puzzle pieces together, creating more of the insane picture that was Colonel Rick Flag, “you’re telling me that we’ve been out here, doing all of this insane shit, and you’ve never—”
“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.
“Because I can’t believe it.” You shook your head. “Out here ready to be murdered by an alien or something when you’ve never even danced.”
“Tell me how those two things are related?”
“Alright,” you said as you shook your head. Bringing your beer bottle to your lips, you downed the rest of it in one go before setting it back on the bar and looking over at Rick. “Let’s go. Come on.”
You started to walk away from the bar and towards the dancefloor. You only got a step and a half away before you noticed that Rick wasn’t following you. You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. Turning back around, you reached and grabbed onto his hand.
“Let’s go!” you said with a laugh.
Rick huffed, but he let you pull him along. If he really wanted nothing to do with it, he would’ve just planted his feet and been done with it. He dragged his feet a little bit but he still went. You felt it the moment it went from you just grabbing onto his hand to pull him along to him grasping your hand back. His fingers hooked around yours, the callouses of his palm rough but still warm against yours. You were glad that your back was mostly to him and that he couldn’t see the stupid little grin on your face over it.
“This is so fuckin’ stupid,” he muttered when the two of you got to the middle of the dancefloor.
You laughed, knowing that it was loud enough that no one else probably heard him, but you certainly did. “And yet,” you stepped in so you were pressed close to him, “you’re still out here.”
He scoffed. “A bet’s a bet.”
You were giddy. “Very honorable of you, Colonel.” There were a few beats where neither of you said anything, neither of you moved, and you couldn’t help but to laugh. Resting your hands flat against his chest, you leaned in so that he’d hear you without having to yell. “I think the bet was more than just you getting out here, Flag.”
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m aware.”
“It’s not that bad. Promise.”
He looked at everyone around the two of you. It was like no one even noticed that he was there, which he would be eternally grateful for after he survived this. He scanned the place, and realized that the only person watching him besides you, was DuBois, the person who had sent him out onto the dancefloor in the first place. Before he watched long enough to see the rest of the team crumble into fits of laughter at his expense, his eyes were back on you. You seemed as unfazed about this as you were about everything else.
“I don’t think you were part of the bet, by the way,” he mentioned as you danced.
You laughed. “Yea, ‘cause you were gonna come out here alone. Sure.” You could see the way he was shaking his head and even though you couldn’t hear him with all the noise in the bar, you were sure that he was mumbling and cursing under his breath. Bringing your hands from his chest to his sides, you forced him to start swaying, trying not to laugh at the confused and disgruntled look on his face. “God you are the stiffest man alive.”
He tried to relax, but now he felt even more on-edge than before. Something about the warmth of your palms soaking through his shirt, noticeable even with how heavy the air already was with the bodies packed onto the dancefloor.
“Liked it better when I was getting shot at,” he finally said.
You laughed, shaking your head before stepping in close enough for your forehead to drop against him, resting just below his shoulder for a moment as you laughed. Peeling yourself away, you left your hands on his sides as you said, “Maybe we should’ve gotten you a third shot.”
“You’re enjoyin’ this way too much.”
“Watching you squirm?” you asked. When he nodded, you could only nod right back. “Just a little, yea.”
It took longer than it should’ve for him to ease into it. And even when he did, he was still awkward, still stiff. Which really as about what you’d expected. You couldn’t deny that it was funny watching Rick Flag trying to force himself to loosen up and have a good time. It’d apparently been too long since he’d really tried to do anything of the sort.
You kept yourself pinned close to him. You knew that he wouldn’t on his own, so you took the initiative and placed his hands on your waist, letting yours come to rest on his shoulders in return. It was amusing to you to see how hesitant he was about it. The same man who had dragged you when you were bloodied and beaten, the same man who you had to cram into the world’s smallest, most uncomfortable spaces with to keep yourselves alive, was suddenly skittish when your closeness had background music to go with it.
Rick was only on the hook for one dance. That was the bet. Mostly because no one thought that he would actually get out there and follow through on it. You couldn’t say that you blamed them, but Rick had never been the kind to back down from a challenge or an order. Or a bet, apparently.
When the song changed, one flowing easily into the next, you thought that he was immediately going to turn tail and run. You’d understand it—you could still feel the slightly anxious and awkward energy coming off of him. Something completely foreign given the source, the same person who didn’t flinch running into a firefight beside you. But despite the small, lingering traces of discomfort, he stayed. Because even though his muscles were still a bit tense, even though he still hadn’t quite figured out what he was like to have a sense of rhythm, he liked the way it felt to have his hands on the small of your back. He liked the way the tips of your fingers reached just past where the collar of his t-shirt stopped.
He hadn’t even felt those thoughts creeping up on him until it was too late. It felt like one second he was looking around to make sure the two of you hadn’t lost anyone, and the next second he was looking back to you and the wind got sucked clean out of his lungs. And you were so unbothered, so unaware. He hoped that it would stay that way.
Not that you’d been very far away from him to begin with, but suddenly you felt so much closer. He could feel the press of your entire body against his, the way that your legs somehow ended up slotted together. His hips were pinned to yours, his arms wrapped tight enough around you so that he was almost completely on-beat with you. At that point, though, he didn’t even care about the rest of it. The racing thoughts in his head were outrun only by the rapid beat of his heart. For the first time all night there was only one thing pulling his focus, and it was you as you stared back at him. You looked just about ready to completely melt into him and his entire mind blanked out one that thought entered his head.
You saw the shift in his eyes, but it was a look that you weren’t familiar with, one that you couldn’t place. Your hand that had been resting in the space where his neck met his shoulder slid up, palm on the side of his throat, fingertips grazing along his jaw. You tilted your head slightly, eyebrows raising to ask the question that you didn’t want to yell loudly in the midst of the club. His response was an equally wordless smile and small nod. You felt your breath get caught in your throat as you looked at him. It was impossible not to feel the way that the two of you were each leaning in closer to the other.
If it hadn’t been so loud on the dancefloor, you were sure that Rick would’ve been able to hear the pounding of your heart inside your chest. In all of the years that the two of you had known each other, all the late nights, long talks, and close quarters, this was the first time that you felt like things were about to cross a line into territory that you wouldn’t be able to backpedal from. You were shocked at how much you didn’t mind the thought of it.
He was close enough to you that you could feel his breath against your skin. Your heart was about to burst clean out of your chest and your lips were just about to touch his. You almost couldn’t believe that it was about to happen.
And then, before it could, you heard the tell-tale sounds of a fight breaking out on the other side of the bar. You didn’t even have to turn around and look to know that it was your team. Some of the most lethal metahumans in the world finally got to have a night out and they just couldn’t fucking handle it.
Rick’s attention snapped over to the noise immediately, the dazed look on his face was quickly replaced with annoyance. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he practically groaned. His arms dropped back to his sides, hands leaving he small of your back leaving an emptiness that neither of you liked or wanted to think too deeply on.
You turned and followed his stride, both of you weaving through the tightly paced groups of people the best that you could. You had no idea what someone said to Peacemaker to get him to swing, but you really didn’t care at that point either. It was bad enough when one team member went rogue, it was worse when it turned into one of the few moments that everyone decided to be on the same side about something and everyone else got involved. You expected this kind of stuff from Peacemaker, but seeing Harley about to smash a beer bottle over someone’s head definitely made you a little extra concerned.
“Alright! Alright!” Rick wasn’t even attempting to hide his annoyance as he started pulling people apart. “Overstayin’ our welcome. Let’s get outta here.”
You caught out of the corner of your eye that DuBois was about to grab his gun and you quickly put your hand on his arm to stop him. He looked at you, peeved at the entire thing. You shook your head. “Not in here.”
He shook his head but he still followed your lead. He wasn’t that dedicated to picking a fight. Once you had him agreeing with you, it became much easier to round everyone up and get them out of the bar. Rick was practically dragging people by their collars but it worked nonetheless. You all had about seven hours before you would get in the chopper and brought back home. With the way things had unfolded so far, some of you might at least be able to use a couple of those to sleep.
Everyone’s rooms were all grouped together. It was a crappy little motel off the beaten path, but it was better than nothing. You were surprised that Waller got you all set up with anything at all, honestly. You’d take what you could get. You and Rick opted to share a room, the foot separating your two queen beds seemed odd now in a way that it never would have before.
“Everyone all locked up in their rooms?” you asked, half-joking, half-serious when Rick came into your room.
He chuckled, nodding. “Yea. All of ‘em are in time-out till we get back to Belle Reve.”
“Yea,” you rolled your eyes as you plopped down and sat on the edge of your bed, “because it’s not like prison is a time-out for them or anything.” You paused, watching as Rick flopped onto the bed that you weren’t sitting on, dragging his hands down his face. “They tell you what happened?”
“No,” he mumbled through his fingers, “but I didn’t fuckin’ ask, either.”
You laughed. “Didn’t wanna know the drama?”
His reply came with no hesitation. “Nope.”
You were shaking your head, helpless to do anything besides stare over at him. You waited, wondering if he was going to say anything about what had happened at the bar with the two of you. With the chaos dealt with and everyone safely stowed away in their rooms, you figured that this was going to be the closest thing that the two of you got to privacy for a while.
There must’ve been a graceful way to bring it up, a way that wouldn’t be awkward or jarring. You just didn’t know what it was. You kept your mouth shut, twisting your fingers into the blanket that rested on top of your bed.
Rick’s eyes were still closed, he was still laying on his bed with his legs dangling off the very end of it because he hadn’t scooted up enough before collapsing onto it. Even with all of that, he still felt you staring at him.
“What?” he asked, not turning to look at you as he did.
You shook his head like he could see you, because it felt like he could. Clearing your throat, you forced out, “Nothing.”
The end of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “Liar.”
It eased some of the tension you were feeling, the laughter that came out of you making you feel a little better about it all. “Shut up.”
Opening his eyes, he turned and looked over at you. “What is it?”
You shook your head. “Nothing, really. Just,” you sighed, “wild night.”
“I mean,” he chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows, “thinkin’ about everything else we’ve been through? Really not…you know…”
You let out a soft laugh, one that was quieter than you wanted it to be. “That’s true.”
“Look—”
“About the bar—”
You both started talking at the same time, both of you stopping when you heard the other. There were a few seconds of awkward silence before you both started laughing. You nodded for him to continue, beating him to the punch.
“Look,” he started again with a laugh, “I was just gonna say…” he trailed off, “I don’t really know what I was gonna fuckin’ say,” he admitted with a laugh.
“I think,” you said, a joking lilt already in your tone, “that considering you’ve never attempted to have any rhythm in your life, you really didn’t do that bad.”
He laughed, shaking his head at you. “Shut up.”
“I mean there’s room for improvement, for sure,” you nettled him just to get another laugh out of him, “but I thought it was going to go much worse.”
“Wow,” he sat up the rest of the way, hands braced on the edge of the bed so he was nearly mirroring the position that you were in, “thanks for the endorsement.”
“It’s an honest one, at least.”
He shook his head but he was still smiling. “Always is with you.”
You figured while you were in the vein of being honest, you might as well go for broke. “I also thought you were gonna kiss me,” the words tumbled out, rushed but clear enough. You chuckled nervously. “You know, before Peacemaker banged some guy’s face off the table.”
Rick’s eyes were still widened from the first part of your statement. He knew that it was his turn to say something, but he couldn’t find the right words. “I thought I was too.”
Warmth spread across your chest at his words, a smile instantly breaking out across your face. Your nerves didn’t dissipate completely, but there was a sense of security in it all that you hadn’t felt before. He could see it, too, the way that your body eased. He was up on his feet again before he could think to stop himself. It only took a couple strides for him to wind up next to you, the mattress sinking slightly beneath his weight as he sat down. He was close enough for the outside of your thigh to be pressed up against his.
“Rick—”
You didn’t get the rest of your sentence out as he leaned in and brought his lips to yours. Nothing you could’ve said would have had any shot in hell at being better than the feeling of him kissing you. You could still taste the faintest hint of liquor off of him from the bar, could feel his stubble beneath the pads of your fingers as they pressed against his jaw. He grabbed onto your waist, his grip firm, like he was determined not to let you or this moment slip away from him a second time.
When the two of you finally came back up for air, you didn’t pull away very far. His forehead was still pressed against yours, chests flush as he continued to hold onto your hip. You smiled, thumb grazing over his cheek as you tried to soak in the moment for all that it was worth.
“You’re better at kissing than you are at dancing, you know,” you finally said, whispering without quite meaning to, like what the two of you were sharing was a secret just for the both of you to know about.
He laughed quietly. “Thank god for that, huh?”
You smiled wider, shaking your head before pulling his lips back to yours. “C’mere.”
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