#joel kinnaman x you

[lovearne]

Colonel

Rick flag x afab reader

All of my fics and my whole page is 18+ only, if you are a child leave. I deserve a safe space to express myself, all blogs under 18 or no age will be blocked. Let me enjoy my experience safely on the internet, thank you.

Warnings: Brat reader, sex themes, dirty talk (mild), oral (male receiving), vaginal fingering, masturbation, nude picture descriptions, masturbation on camera, sexually frustrated rick flag, jealous rick flag

Word count: 2.2K+

I meshed two requests for this fic, I hope ya’ll enjoy reading <3

I’m humbly begging for “YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!” With Rick flag

making eye-contact with your partner from across the room, gesturing at them to follow you outside and this with rick???

Hey babe, when do you come home? You texted Rick, he'd been gone all day and it was starting to annoy you. It was supposed to be his day off but it's currently 18:00 and he hasn't even texted you.

Sorry darling, I'll be heading home within the next two hours, Waller just has me slammed today.

You sigh, he'd just gotten back from a 2 week long mission and you haven't even seen him yet. You know he slept beside you because his side was messy, but you hadn't actually spent time with him for more than 2 weeks. You haven't been intimate for 3 weeks, much too long for your liking, life has just been very hectic. The both of you had decided that when you two were going to be apart that you wanted to spend time with each other, sex wasnt a need in your relationship, besides you were babysitting that week, so you had two little cock blockers.

I miss you though :( You had sent back. Followed by a few crying face emojis. He always breaks when you get pouty with him, that bleeding heart of his. God you love that man.

I’m sorry darling but I’m really tied up here, I want to come home to you badly but just need to wait it out sweetheart.

Your frown had deepend on your face. Pulling down to your chin. Can’t you just do it faster? I really need my colonel to report to duty. An idea born into your brain, you smirk. Walking over to where Rick's military issue uniform was kept quite neatly hanging in a bag in the closet. You unzip the bag, grabbing out his decorated colonels jacket out of it. Turning to grab his beige ball cap with the American flag out of his top drawer. Returning to your phone you see several messages.

Babe I know. Fuck, don’t call me that, you know what that does, and I’m at work.

Babe?

Oh, so you’re fucking with me? You’ll pay for that later daring.

The last one sent a shiver down your spine. Sending a message of your own. Oh hush up colonel, I’m right here baby. Gotta make you worry every once in a while. make s the heart grow fonder.

Yeah, whatever the fuck thats supposed to mean. 

You scoff into the room at his response. Taking your clothes off one at a time, taking a picture of each piece, after taking a picture of yourself. Dressing in just his jacket and hat afterwards.

Colonel?

Fuck babe, your gonna get me hard at my desk, stop that. You laugh. 

“Jesus am I evil,” You laugh into your, no ricks jacket sleeve. Bet I could make you super hard without much effort baby boy. You bite your lip hitting the send button. You can imagine Rick's face as he reads that line, watching as the three typing bubbles appear. 

What? What did you just call me. Got him. You smile wide, sending the first picture you took, dressed in your regular clothes. Seeing the read status right underneath as soon as it was sent. You had the man on the edge of his seat.

Oh darling, you're so beautiful. Your heart skips, everytime without fail, everytime he compliments you, he makes you feel like the only person in the world.

You send him a picture of your shirt thrown on the floor. 

Doing laundry sweetheart? You chuckle at his reply, sending the pic of your pants also in the pile. All he sent this time was a single question mark. You send him the pic of your bra joining the pile.

Don’t you fucking dare. Your spine sends a shiver down your body getting a true thrill from this, from teasing him. Sending a picture of your damp panties. Watching again as the bubbles pop up and disappear four times before his message comes through.

This is your warning, stop or you will pay for it when I get home. You smile very cheekily.

What if that's exactly what I want, Colonel Flag? Gonna spank me for insubordination? That's kinky sir.  You smile, pretty proud of yourself and the comeback you sent. Wow, sometimes you surprise yourself with your sassiness and attitude.

I’m beginning to think you need to be reminded of your place. Do you need to be put back in your place? You smirk, leaving the text on read, posing for the camera, taking a few sensual pictures in his hat and coat. Sending him one first of you on your knees set slightly apart, hands reaching into your hair head back and back arched. The lapels of his coat barely hanging covering your nipples, showing him the curves of your breasts, the apex of your thighs and your throat exposed.

Hmm, I dunno sir, looks like I’m the colonel now, no?

Oh fuck You laugh at his short response, it had been sent five minutes later than when it was opened. You need to take that off. Babydoll you’re really distracting me at my workplace. C’mon have some mercy on an old man. You scoff, deciding to play with him a little more.

No mercy for the opposing soldiers. Don't you think I look hot in your jacket? You wait patiently for his response.

God, you're killing me today. I think you look beautiful in my jacket darling, you look amazing baby, I promise. Biting your lips, you send him one where his jacket is slipped off one shoulder, one breast uncovered, and your smooth thigh being completely uncovered.

How about this? Is this good for you? 

Holy fuck. You can almost see Rick's eyes bulging at that comment. Yes darling, take it off.

You send him another of your top half with no more coat.

Good, so good darling. Now, can you please put that back? 

Instead you send him a picture of the tops of your thighs, your panties on the floor visible in the frame.

You have no idea how hard it is.

What? Your cock? Because good, come home now I’ll be waiting on my knees. Your boldness on that comment made your cheeks red.

How to keep it together in this meeting right now. You smile mischievously.

You prop your camera to angle towards the apex of your legs, pressing record on your phone. You start by rubbing slowly up and down vertically, catching your clit a couple of times, Sweet moans escaping your mouth, being picked up by your camera. Sending a minute-long video. Almost immediately after you sent the video, Rick had replied.

I’m warning you. You send back a frowny face. Setting the camera up again, pressing record and getting to work. Thinking back to the time Rick had drug you out of a charity event to blow him in the alleyway.

-------

Rick always gets invited to these places, fancy charity parties. Where the rich sit around pretending that they give a shit. It's not like Rick makes a lot of money either. He's just a highly decorated Colonel in the United states army, a hero of the people. He had been dragged away by different officers and the general as soon as the two of you arrived. 

You were currently dancing with one of the wealthier men at the event, deciding that since Rick ditched you, you were going to have fun instead of standing and waiting like an obedient dog. The man's hands were resting on your waist and around your back, much too close for Rick's liking, he had been standing watching you from across the room. A lady had cut into the dance, wanting a new partner, which was when you locked eyes with rick. 

He gestures his head to the side, toward the exit door, walking over to it, and then out. You followed, closing the door softly as you exit.

“Jus’ what the fuck did ya think you were doin’ little lady?” You gulp, hearing his tone, he was not happy.

“I was dancing Ricky. You know what dancing is, yeah?” He crosses his arms, bobbing his head once, agreeing. 

“And who were ya dancing with? Hmm?” His eyes weren’t angry, voice firm and face pulled in displeasure, creating his handsome skin.

“Just some-” He cuts you off.

“With not fuckin’ me. That's who. I am your only dance partner, understand?” His eyes reflected his feelings.

“Oh Rick, are you jealous?” You feel his hand grab at your jacket sleeve. 

“Maybe I just need to show you who you belong to then?” He pushes you to your knees, you willingly kneeling on the pavement for him. “Now, I’m gonna fuck your mouth, if ya need to tap out, just push or hit my thigh, ok pretty baby?” You nod, watching as he unbuckles his belt, and undoes his button, pulling his pants and boxers to just below the swell of his ass.

Your eyes watch his hard cock bounce free, licking your lips at the event in your very near future. Rick pumps his shaft a few times, making a show of his body shivering and his satisfied groan. 

Stepping closer to your body, you sit up, opening your mouth wide, you patiently wait for his cock to enter. Instead, Rick traced his tip against your top and bottom lips, you moaning as he does. 

“Oh fuck babe, you are already doing so good.” Rick gasps at you.

You lean forward, leaving a wet kiss on his tip, sucking softly at the reddened skin there. Rick grunts, leaning against the wall for support. 

He pushes the first few inches of his cock into your mouth, he knows you have to build up to the whole thing, go at your own pace. You set the pace to start, even when he was upset, Rick was still loving and respectful. Fisting the rest of his cock, you hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head along his cock.

“Oh fuck darlin’,” Ricks head falls back against the concrete wall. “Fuck baby so good.” You move your head further down, moving you hands to place them neatly on the backs of his thighs, telling him he could start fucking your throat. His hips immediately rocking against your face, pushing deeper each time. When he starts to pick up the pace, you trail your hand to his ball sack, lightly squeezing and massaging it. 

Rick grunts above you, fucking your mouth harder than before, his balls slapping against you chin and spit dribbling out of your mouth obnoxisly. Ricks grunts getting more frequent and more desperate, slamming his cock right down your throat, pistoning in and out. “Oh fuck, fuck darling gonna cum, of fuck!” Rick tries to pull out and shoot his load on the ground, but you firmly plant your hands on his ass cheeks, sucking on just his tip, bringing him to a body shaking intense orgasm, his cum spurting into your mouth, and you swallowing it down, showing the man your clean tongue. His head spinning as you talk to him, eventually just pulling his pants back up for him ,sitting him against the building.

-------

  Playing that day back in your memory, you  focus on the faces and sounds rick had made, moaning as you now have your fingers in your pussy, fucking in and out with vigor. Moaning out Rick's name as you get closer and closer, thinking about the sounds he made when he was cumming, bringing yourself to the edge as well.

“Oh fuck! Fuck! Rick, oh my god,” You pant as your pleasure cuts off your intelligent words, mumble screaming how pretty he sounds, how good he looks. “Oh rick! I’m cumimng, oh, oh Rick! Fuck!” You feel your release leak between your fingers, your hand bringing you down from your high, stroking gently and slowly. Stopping, your legs both fall to one side, your hand resting between your thighs, waiting for your brain to start working again. 

When you calm down enough, you reach back for your phone. Saving the whole video, and then editing a copy so it's just your release, sending it to Rick and reading your missed messages.

Babe? Then a few minutes later.

Baby? Are you upset? I love you

Darling? Are you ok?

Hey sweetheart, I’m heading home soon.

The read receipt shows on your latest video, the dots popping up again, this time it took a few seconds for him to respond.

I’m coming home right fucking now.

You have enough time to clean yourself up, and put the coat back on by the time he opens the door downstairs.

“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!” Rick's booming voice crashes through the house, so loud it reverberates off the walls. You head his hurried footsteps up the stairs, his shoes squeaking as he books it into your room. 

“Oh, and impersonating a US army soldier. Double the punishment darlin’, hope it was fucking worth it.” He dives into bed, biting and grabbing at your showing skin and levelling to attach his lips to yours, giving you a deep kiss. You were a moaning mess beneath him in no time. 

“Damn darlin’ missin’ me that much?” You whine and nod.

You just knew you were going to be up most of the night.

#rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #rick flag #rick flag imagine #joel kinnaman x reader #joel kinnaman x you #joel kinnaman #the suicide squad #suicide squad #arne writes #requests

[floralcyanide]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝/ 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐊 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝑠𝑦𝑚𝑏𝑜𝑙 𝑘𝑒𝑦: 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 ✺ 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓 ✿ 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡 ☁ 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤 ☼

𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝖽𝗐𝗂𝗇

- 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂'𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾 ☁✿

- 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 ✿

- 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅 ☼☁✿✺

𝗀𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗌

coming soon

𝗃𝗈𝖾𝗅 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗇

coming soon

#for all mankind #famk #for all mankind tv #for all mankind apple tv #ed baldwin #ed baldwin x reader #ed baldwin x you #ed baldwin smut #ed baldwin x reader smut #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman x reader #joel kinnaman x you #joel kinnaman smut #joel kinnaman x reader smut #gordo stevens #gordo stevens x reader #gordo stevens x you #floralcyanide writes

[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 &lt;3 ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

#reve's quirky reverie 🕷 #— reve's reverie 🌹 #rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag x female reader #rick flag x f!reader #rick flag x you #rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #colonel flag #colonel rick flag #colonel rick flag x reader #tss 2021 #tss #joel kinnaman #husband rick #hubby rick

[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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#rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #joel kinnaman #rick flag #colonel rick flag x reader #colonel rick flag x you #colonel rick flag #colonel flag x reader #colonel flag x you #colonel flag #the suicide squad #dceu tss #tss #suicide squad #releasetheayercut #rick flag smut #reader insert #female reader #lacontroller1991

[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

#rick flag #joel kinnaman #rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #the suicide squad #colonel rick flag #rick flag smut #dceu fanfic

[theartofimagining13]

Imagine:

You and your ex-husband Chris get along pretty well even after the divorce, so he’s always checking in on you, and one day, he learns that you’re dating a man named Joel and it’s gotten serious. Joel does not like that you and Chris still talk, so he’s suddenly always around. Chris picks up on it, and the fact that Joel is a bit of a dick to him makes him want to get on his nerves even more, so Chris begins to treat you even better. In the end, he realizes that he wants you back but doesn’t know where you stand since you seem to really like this Joel guy. 

#Joel's all like 'i am watching you prick' #Imagine Chris Evans #Chris Evans #Imagine Joel Kinnaman #Joel Kinnaman #Chris Evans x reader #Joel Kinnaman x reader #Imagine

[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.

#sfw repost #fic #rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag x f!reader #rick flag x you #colonel rick flag #colonel rick flag x reader #colonel rick flag x you #joel kinnaman #the suicide squad #suicide squad #dc #dc x reader #fluff

[violetmuses]

Clouds - Holder

TITLE: “Clouds” || A Stephen Holder Drabble

FANDOM: “The Killing” (AMC/Netflix Series)

CHARACTER: Homicide Detective Stephen Holder

MAIN STORYLINE: On rainy nights, all Holder wants is you… 

Author’s Note: Hey! Feedback would be greatly appreciated and thanks so much for reading as always. - V.  💜

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96  @skvatnavle @mayhem24-7forever @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @maddu-oliveira @tavners @thee-antler-queen @reveluving @floralcyanide

Main Masterlist 💜

__________

2012

More rain. It never ends here in Seattle. Thankfully, Stephen is already home with you by the time thunder rumbles again. 

Disheveled blankets. Cuddling in his arms. 

There’s no other feeling in the world. With dinner out of the way and that kitchen clean, you no longer have to think, just resting with your best friend. 

“Babe?” His voice is sleepy, drifting in or out of consciousness as gorgeous hazel eyes watch you for a moment. 

“What?” You mumble, still not wanting to consider anything important. Work drained you today, and it’s a miracle that even Holder could somehow leave the precinct earlier than midnight. 

“You’re so pretty.” Smiling and showing off that mustache, he dares to open the warm proximity found between your covered bodies. Soon after, this man angles his finger to tap your nose. 

“Thank you, but please let me sleep,” You whine back, readjusting that cuddle back with him. 

“Aight.” Kissing your forehead, Holder took off one of those signature hoodies and now lays with you in a t-shirt, feeling nothing short of peace. 

Just when you plan on sleeping again, lightning flashes in the bedroom window and you can’t help snuggling closer, hoping that Stephen will notice. 

“Sorry.” You look up at him, trying not to feel embarrassed. 

“It’s okay. I'm here. Promise.” This time, Holder caresses your face and smiles down, tickling you with the mustache. 

At least he’s around, rain or shine. 

#stephen holder x you #stephen holder #stephen holder x reader #the killing #joel kinnaman #fanfics #fluff #violetmuses #drabbles #drabble

[babblydrabbly]

the only man you look at tonight || takeshi kovacs x reader || oneshot

takeshi kovacs x f!reader || smut || 2.4k words || warnings - language. alcohol and drug use. kissing. frottage. mentions of past abuse.

a/n: for @that-sarcastic-writer's lovely follower celebration! I really loved this prompt. Congrats again on the followers bby! ♡♡♡ and thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading:)

[ I do not give permission to repost my work anywhere. ]

The two of you are on a night out when you bump into your ex.

Takeshi’s strong arms and broad chest box you against the glass-top bar possessively. He makes sure all other patrons avoid bumping you as you order two more drinks, persuading the man on the other side of the counter to make them doubles on the house. Ever since Tak lost his expense account on the Bancrofts’ dime, the two of you had to revert to more frugal ways of navigating Bay City. You didn’t mind. It was your life before Takeshi Kovacs came into it, and he seemed well adept at it too.

You had surprised the envoy. You weren’t one for the noisy, chaotic atmosphere of most clubs in the city. But you knew Takeshi had a penchant for vice dens just like this one, and you secretly didn’t like him going alone no matter how perfectly capable he was. Takeshi Kovacs was a magnet for trouble, after all.

The corner of Tak’s lips quirk as you keep your head on a subtle swivel. You had proven you could clock plenty of danger in seedy places.

In your own way, you were reminding Takeshi it was okay to let his guard down and enjoy the booze and drugs he so often sought out when he first arrived. And while it was true that was his original goal, he had grown used to you by his side. He wasn’t just saying yes to another night out.

Takeshi realized it long before you— A good partnership in crime had turned into good company. And going out together had become a pleasurable thing of its own.

You stiffen when Tak curls his tall frame against your back for a moment before relaxing. You feel his warm breath on your ear before you hear his sleeve’s deep, velvety baritone.

“What’d you score us?”

You try to shrug nonchalantly, keeping your eyes forward. “Some top shelf. With a spritz of a little something like Veuron.” You turn to look up at him. “You looked like you wanted to get a little loose on the dance floor.”

“Are we dancing tonight?” Takeshi wonders out loud teasingly. Warmth flushes your cheeks. You thank the bartender and slide the glasses toward yourself, holding one up for Tak. He grabs the glass and clinks it against yours. “Kanpai.”

“Skal.” You agree. The two of you knock the drinks back swiftly before he takes your hand and guides you out onto the frenzied dance floor.

The sensation that hits soon after lifts you. Your eyes chase the moving lights that wash over the other dancers, happy to sway lethargically to the reverberating beat. Once again, Takeshi stands tall behind you—his favorite place to be, it seems-—his broad hands on your hips as he sways behind you in sync.

“I like this one,” Takeshi murmurs into your ear. This time he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips right against your skin. You give him an absent hum of approval yourself and tilt your head to the side.

“You like any drugs you can get your hands on.” You point out. The hands on your hips give you a squeeze before traveling steadily up your sides. You had no idea how true that statement was.

You gasp when he spins you around and find yourself facing Takeshi.

You open your mouth to say more. Tak raises an eyebrow when you suddenly clamp your mouth shut instead. He notes how you stop moving to the music instantly— your eyes fixated on something else just past him. Or someone.

Tak uses the large mirror that makes up the far wall to pinpoint what’s caught your attention rather than glancing over his shoulder. By his guess, it’s got to be a man over by the lounge area.

The Meth has the audacity to wear his ridiculous white garb while down here, in a shitty nightclub of all places. He chats with a few other wealthy men and women. Though clearly none of them are as wealthy as him.

Takeshi glances back down at you. “Who’s he?”

You glance up, startled. But you’ve grown used to Takeshi playing detective. He cranes his ear down so you can easily speak to him over the loud music.

“He goes by Rex when he’s down on the ground. We… knew each other. A long time ago.” You try to explain through the noise and haze of the drug. And Tak can already tell by your hesitation what you mean. “He used to hook me up with Merge5. Then Merge5 turned into Merge9 and, well… I had to get away from him eventually. You know what I mean?”

A flare of something in Takeshi makes him clench his jaw. He scoffs.

Takeshi knew exactly what you meant. Even the idea of being in the same room as Miriam Bancroft again annoyed the envoy. He could imagine how demeaning it must have been to you with this Meth of your own.

Takeshi’s weightless mood shifts as he steps closer to you, his hands on your hips again.

“But like I said. It was a long time ago.” You reiterate. Tak watches you glance down with a hint of shame. “Way before you were last spun up, that’s for sure.”

Takeshi takes your chin and brings your face back up. Your eyes flit over his expression, trying to discern what he may be thinking. When Tak finally takes a glance over at Rex, he isn’t surprised to see the man looking back. Takeshi smirks.

His kiss is electric. Your muffled sound cuts off as Takeshi cups your face with both hands and pulls you in. His lips mixed with your spinning daze leave you breathless. Kissing Takeshi Kovacs is a high on its own.

“Tak?” You shudder when those lips break away and leave a hot trail down your jawline. Right to the spot beneath your ear that makes you melt. His eyes drift open as he presses hot kisses against your skin, pulling away long enough to lock eyes with you. He catches your dazed attention in an instant.

“Let’s get out of here.” He offers casually. Takeshi’s concern, despite the way he wraps it up in his particular brand of attitude, reminds you just how protective he can be. He had hid it at first. In sideways glances and gentle brushes of his knuckles against yours.

But now, after everything you had been through together in this shitty town, it was the two of you. A package deal.

Your eyes flicker to his parted lips— to the way they glisten now in the neon lighting because of their contact with your skin. Then back to his blown pupils rimmed with their brilliant hazel rings. You grip the front of his shirt in response, desire suddenly blooming in your chest and down to your toes.

The spell is broken by the sound of his voice. One you never wanted to hear again but should have expected eventually. “Look who’s back in town.” He greets. Rex approaches with abandon, his cloned sleeve in pristine condition. You scoff under your breath when he elbows a few dancers out of his way.

“Here I am.” You respond. You don’t know how else to. You twist your fingers into the fabric just above Tak’s waist.

Takeshi wraps his arms around you, pulling you even closer. It’s so possessive you have to lift a foot subtly to not step on the envoy’s shoes. You blink as your cheek connects with Tak’s firm chest, a little speechless.

The Meth glances at Tak’s posture but says nothing about it. His smile is as congenial as ever.

“You must be the man I can’t quite live up to.” Tak drawls loudly over the din. His words, dripping with sarcasm, go right over the other man’s head.

“Talks about me, does she?” He grins.

Not at all, you prick. You bite your tongue before you regret it.

You don’t know what you expected, but it certainly wasn’t Takeshi playing his version of nice. He was one of the most bullheaded creatures you’d ever met. You’d only seen him skirt his way around conflict a handful of times– when absolutely necessary. You were both survivors in that way.

But Takeshi Kovacs knew how to play the board. Behind Rex, a few of his entourage kept their eyes on the three of you, ready to clean up the mess their Meth often made in his wake. It’d be in your and Takeshi’s best interest not to escalate anything while high and outnumbered.

“Well, I’m sure she wouldn’t settle for anything less than.” Your ex humbly concedes.

Your cheeks heat up again when he finally walks away– no longer a blush of desire but of embarrassment. Shame. Why shame?

Before you can sink into the feeling further, Tak grasps your chin lightly between his fingers.

“Fifty credits says he turns back around once he gets to that bar.” The envoy murmurs. You furrow your brow in confusion at his amused little smirk.

“What do you mean?”

Tak replies with another deep kiss.

“Be a little brash for me, for once.” He nips at your bottom lip.

You roll your eyes. “You’re one to talk. I thought we were just leaving.”

Tak doesn’t need the grip of his strong, callused hands to get your hips moving. You sway with him, leaning back to lock dilated eyes with the envoy. He pins you with his hooded hazel gaze and that expression you still can’t quite figure out. You’ve always wondered just how many calculations the envoy can make about what’s in front of him in a matter of seconds.

“This meth doesn’t know what’s mine.” Tak growls in your ear. The words drop sharply down to your core, and your mouth parts with shock. He’s never said something so forward about the two of you before. And you never dared to ask him.

“Takeshi.” Your eyes flit over to Rex. Tak gives you a moment to lock eyes with him, just enough to catch the glimpse of desire in the other man’s eyes. It’s one you’re familiar with, tainted with all the things you don’t ever want again; Jealousy; Insecurity; And that acrid kind of possessiveness without an ounce of true care. He held his power over you too long. Long enough that you’d never forget why you ran away in the first place.

But Takeshi’s face is different. You gasp as his hand closes softly around your jaw and guides your line of sight back to him. His gaze is something completely new. You flush beneath his hazel stare dotted with the strobe and neon lights dancing around you both. When he kisses you again, Takeshi presses his body against yours- chest to chest and hips to hips. You let go of a whimper when his arousal presses flush to your pelvis. You clench your thighs together with want, eyes falling shut.

So you try to ease into it. Let him pin you to him as his familiar touch runs ribbons of tingling warmth up and down your sides. And soon your past problems with Rex seem far away again– the distance from where you stand and the bar growing with every heart-thudding beat of sound.

Tak’s thigh coaxes your legs apart. Through the thin fabric of your pants, his muscles press firmly to you, gliding back and forth as the two of you begin to grind. You moan lightly at the friction. It’s not just the booze or the drugs– it’s Takeshi holding onto you so fiercely that gets your hips rolling. You bury your face in the man’s chest as the first slick sign of wetness blooms between your legs. You exhale a breath across the Envoy’s chest.

“Fuck.” He groans softly under all the noise. Could his intuition really tell him just how much you were enjoying yourself?

Eager to coax more sounds out of your normally silent partner, your hand makes its way down his chest. Over every cord of rolling muscle until your fingers finally hook on his belt. You glance up cheekily at him and bite your lip.

“I might just have to carry you out of here after all.” He smirks down at you. His eyes flutter shut as you reach up with your free hand to push the soft fringes of hair out of his eyes.

You savor the sharp inhale Tak breathes in as you cup the hard length at his center. Tak’s face twists subtly with pleasure. You stroke him as he grinds you down on his thigh. The two of you stay like this, working each other’s bodies under the guise of dancing as you hide your face away in the safety of Takeshi’s collar.

Tak holds your weight when the tell-tale sign of your quaking knees leaves you gripping onto his belt. His arms wrap around you on instinct as you shutter and buck lightly against him, your head tilting back in ecstasy. Lips find the column of your throat. Takeshi mouths at your pulse as your cries are drowned out by the music. A hand cards through your sweat-damp hair as you catch your breath.

You lock eyes with Takeshi. The thought of an audience member watching the two of you is long gone from your mind. Still, you smile dazedly at Tak, knowing where you want the rest of the night to go.

“I think I know a place with free booze and a little more privacy.”

He snorts, reading your mind. His voice is a heavy rasp now that it’s drenched with desire.

“Yeah? I think I might know the proprietor. And no, he doesn’t care for privacy.”

You grin as Takeshi relents anyway, a heat flooding your chest when you catch him throwing a sly smirk back toward the bar for a split moment. You don’t care enough to look yourself.

The two of you escape the underground club and step back out into the Bay City fog, your only thoughts on the hand enveloping yours and the warm safe haven waiting for you both.

#lias writing challenge #lias 1300 milestone #write with lia #takeshi kovacs #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs x you #altered carbon #altered carbon fanfiction #Joel kinnaman fanfiction #mywords* #thatsarcasticwriter

[sebsxphia]

other characters.

| rick flag | harrison knott | miles miller | charlie young | walt ‘finn’ finnegan | joel miller | major major | mark reynolds |

#rick flag x reader #rick flag #joel kinnaman #masterlist #harrison knott x you #harrison knott x reader #harrison knott #charlie young x you #charlie young x reader #charlie young #miles miller x you #miles miller x reader #miles miller #glen powell #lewis pullman #walt finn finnegan #mark reynolds #major major

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Eternally Yours: The Sweet Taste of Revenge

Whumptober 2022: Alt Prompt for Day 28. Protective Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Vampire!Rick Flag, f!reader Word Count: 3299 TW: Angst, Whump, Vampire Related Violence, Blood, Character Death, Language Notes: Thank you so incredibly much to @loverhymeswith for not only looking this over for me but also for being so supportive from the beginning! 💖

Eternally Yours Masterlist

Despite the screaming and gunfire outside, you strolled casually through the remains of the building completely unfazed. From the moment you reentered Jotunheim alone, you had dropped all pretenses. There were only two other people left in the building and there was no need to put on a show for either of them anymore.

DuBois had hauled you from the building screaming and crying as you feigned fighting against him so you could stay with Rick’s body. The mercenary was surprisingly strong, though he would have been no match for you if you had actually wanted out of his grasp. However, you had played the part of the grieving partner and lover just as was expected of you and allowed him to drag you away. Then when Starro burst from the building, it was just the distraction you needed to break free and charge back in while everyone else watched as you ran to your apparent death.

If only they knew the truth.

You made a quick trip to pick something up on the ground floor before heading down to what was left of the basement. It took you a few moments to find a way to navigate the collapsed stairwell and blocked passages, but you soon made it back to the bathroom. Rick was still lying where you had last seen him amongst the debris and rubble created from his fight. 

Crouching down next to his body, your eyes trailed over the blood that had stained his once bright yellow shirt. And as your gaze settled on the cause of the damage, you sighed. “When I witnessed him stab you, it did give me pause for a moment. A piece of porcelain is not the same as a wooden stake, yet an object through the heart is still an object through the heart. Imagine my delight to discover you still alive and well… so to speak.”

For a moment, nothing happened. But then, Rick’s blank, staring eyes shifted towards you, flashing red in the dim light. “I thought I sold it pretty well.”

You smiled softly as you brushed some dirt from his cheek. “Oh, you did, my actor extraordinaire. Everyone believed it and as far as the world will be concerned, Colonel Richard Flag, Jr. died on Corto Maltese, his body forever lost in the rubble of Jotunheim. And with him, his lieutenant who ran back inside because she was too broken-hearted to leave him behind.” 

“Good thing they were both already dead to start with,” Rick chuckled softly.

“Yes. Otherwise, that wound would have been fatal, instead of just a minor inconvenience.” 

Slowly reaching up, Rick wrapped his fingers around the shard still jutting from his chest before yanking it out. His face contorted in agony as he snarled, “Still hurts like a bitch.”

“So it would seem.” His usually tanned skin looked pallid in the dim light and his eyes still shone a deep red. He had already lost a lot of blood and now that the shard had been removed, his wound was bleeding once again. While it was not something that would end his existence, you could see it had made him incredibly weak and it pained you to see him in such a state.

Silently, you allowed your fingernails to grow into razor-sharp points and you sliced one across your wrist. In seconds, dark red blood began to bubble up and stream down your arm. You held out your wrist to Rick and he hesitated for just a second before he lunged forward, his lips locking onto your arm as he greedily began to suck at the wound. 

As he drank, you ran your free hand slowly through his sweat-matted hair, cleaning out small pieces of rock and debris as you did. Rick hummed with pleasure at the feeling and the vibrations on your wrist sent a pleasant buzz up your arm. You could already see him regaining some of his strength and color as the wound in his chest began to heal. He would have eventually healed completely without your blood, but you hated seeing him in pain when he didn’t have to be. 

As much as you brushed it off when you first returned to him, you would never reveal how terrified you had actually been to see that shard be driven into his heart. For just a moment, your world had ended. In all of the millennia you had been alive, nothing had ever torn your heart to pieces as that moment had. Even the pain of your transformation– the memory still as painful and fresh as the day it happened– could not compare to thinking Rick was about to be taken from you. Meeting him had given your monotonous, never-ending existence meaning again and there was no doubt in your mind that you would no longer have the will to carry on in this life without him by your side. 

When you felt yourself growing weak, you tapped on his jaw and Rick reluctantly released you. He slowly slid his tongue over the cut in your wrist, his saliva closing the wound in seconds. Then he pressed his lips against the faint scar, leaving a perfect bloody imprint when he pulled away. Smiling, you ran your finger across his lips, collecting the remaining blood there before slipping your finger between his lips. He coyly sucked on it as he stared deeply into your eyes, the red in his already starting to fade as he grew stronger. Soon you were left staring into the same deep hazel pools that had enchanted you all those years ago.

“Better?” you asked as you slid your finger from his mouth, resting it on his chin.

He smiled back at you, flashing his fangs. “Much. Thank you, darlin’.”

“Of course, my love.” You trailed your fingernail down his throat and across his broad chest until it settled on the center of the red stain on his shirt. “It is such a shame so much of this had to go to waste. You know how I adore the taste of your blood. Although, it would not have been good if you hadn’t bled. We wouldn’t want questions we have no answers for. That would have turned out very badly for the Squad.” 

If Rick hadn’t been able to convince Cleo with his performance that the shard had ended his life, you would have had to silence the girl and that would have led to…. complications. The likes of which may have required the elimination of the entire Squad. No one could learn your secret and live. It was an unfortunate necessity for your survival and one that had allowed you to outlast nearly every other one of your kind.

“Did… did they all make it out?” Rick asked hesitantly. He was still young enough to genuinely care for these mortals. You on the other hand – for whom time no longer held any meaning – had lost interest in the outcome of their insignificant lives. Certainly, you still enjoyed the company of others and truly viewed some as close companions. However, even if they survived today, they would still be dust in the time it took you to blink your eye so their deaths would have meant little to you.

But you smiled. “Yes, the Squad made it out of Jotunheim. All except one. And that is where I have brought you a gift.”

Rising to your feet, you walked to the edge of the room where you had dumped what you had retrieved from upstairs. Easily dragging it over to where Rick was sitting, you dropped it next to him. Rick’s eyes grew wide as he saw what it was. Or rather who it was.

“Is he…?”

You nodded. “Yes, he is still alive, though only just. DuBois nearly severed his artery with a bullet but I closed the wound before he completely bled out. I figured we would give this vermin a chance to be useful for once in his miserable life before he dies. After all, I knew you would be thirsty.”

The blood of his sire may have been useful in healing him, but only the blood of the living would truly help Rick to regain his strength. And considering there was only one living human left in the building, this was the logical option. Besides, you wanted to personally watch as the light left his eyes, a wide smile on your face as it did. 

Walking over to one of the broken pipes, you grabbed a small container you found on the floor and filled it with water. Then returning to the two men, you dumped it on over the unconscious man’s face.  

He jerked up, suddenly awake as he sputtered and looked around frantically. You bend down until you were eye-to-eye with him, flashing your fangs and red eyes as you purred, “Hello, Peacemaker. Glad you could join us.”

“Fuck!” he yelled as he tried to scramble backward away from you. As his head snapped around looking for a way to escape, his eyes landed on Rick sitting up a few feet away from him, and all the blood drained from his face. “Fuck! But, I-I killed you.”

Rick tilted his head slightly with a lopsided grin that only revealed one of his fangs, still tinged red from your blood. “Sorry to disappoint, but you can’t kill what’s already dead.”

Peacemaker’s head whipped frantically back and forth between the two of you, unsure of who to focus on. Finally, his eyes settled on you and he asked, “What the fuck are you people?” 

“Haven’t you guessed? We are creatures of the night, the immortal ones, nightwalkers, Strigoi,  the living dead!” you exclaimed, holding out your arms for dramatic effect.

But Peacemaker just continued to stare at you blankly. Then he glanced over at Rick who gave him a half-hearted shrug. “We’re vampires.”

You dropped your arms and rolled your eyes. “You try to have just a touch of elegance or grandeur…”

“Darlin’, remember who you’re talkin’ to.” 

“True.” you said flatly before sighing, “But yes, we are vampires.”

Peacemaker’s eye darted back and forth between you and Rick once more. “Wh-what do you want from me? Are you going to turn me into one of you? Induct me into your weird sex cult or whatever it is? I mean, I’m not saying no, but I just need to know what sort of stuff we’re talking about. Even I have my limits.”

You scoffed in disgust. “You? As if we would ever have any desire to allow you to join us. Especially after what you attempted to do.”

Peacemaker held up his hands. “Look, lady. I was just doing my job. My orders were to destroy the evidence no matter what the cost and that’s what I did. Sorry if that meant stabbing your friend.”

“I do not care whose orders you follow. They mean nothing to me,” you hissed. “I have been alive since before recorded history. I have seen civilizations rise and fall. I have known Egyptian Pharaohs and Greek Gods. I have feasted on peasants and royalty alike. But never have I met another like him.” 

You gazed lovingly into Rick’s eyes, everything else momentarily fading away as you basked in the intense passion and devotion that you saw there. And you knew he saw the same thing reflected in your eyes. “He is the only one I have ever deemed worthy to join me in this life, the only one I could never bear to lose.” You reached out your hand which Rick accepted, dipping his head to place a long kiss on the back of it.

Suddenly, you whirled around to face Peacemaker, your hand darting out and tightening around his throat like a vice. As easy as picking up a toy, you lifted him off the ground until his eyes were level with yours. He clawed at your hand, gasping for air but you ignored him as you growled, “And yet, you tried to take him from me. For that, you will pay with your life.”

Peacemaker’s eyes grew wide as he doubled his efforts to escape, but it made no difference to you even in your slightly compromised state. Instead, you continued to stare at him stone-faced until he began to go limp in your grasp from lack of oxygen. Only then did you loosen your grip just enough to allow him to take a large, gulping breath and you continued.

“Yet, you will be shown mercy, not because you deserve it, but out of necessity. If I had my way, I would make it take hours as I tore the very flesh from your bones, and only once you had been driven mad from the pain would I end your miserable life.” You cocked your head to the side. “However, seeing as my beloved needs his strength, he will have the honors instead.”

You turned to face Rick who was still staring up at you from the floor.

“Are you sure?” His brow was furrowed as he gazed at you. He must have noticed that you were feeling the effects from the amount of blood he had taken from you earlier and, despite needing the blood himself, he was still willing to share his already depleted meal.

Touched that he would offer, you cooed gently, “Yes, my love. Drink. He is all yours.” Turning to Peacemaker, your eyes flashed red and you growled, “Just make it hurt.”

Rick nodded as he rose unsteadily to his feet. As soon as he was ready, you released your hold on Peacemaker’s neck. He dropped to the floor, gasping for air, yet quickly scrambled to his feet and attempted to take off running. However, Rick was on him in an instant. He slammed his palm into the center of Peacemaker’s chest and you heard the simultaneous snap of multiple bones. Peacemaker howled as Rick drove him backward, quickly pinning him against the wall. 

Gurgling and moaning in pain, Peacemaker feebly tried to push Rick’s hand off of his chest, yet even at his full strength, he would have been no match for the vampire. Rick grinned as he slowly extended his fangs. Then, he lunged forward, plunging his teeth into Peacemaker’s neck. 

The man tried to scream but Rick’s teeth dug deeper, ripping into his throat and severing his vocal cords. Peacemaker continued to silently howl as he attempted to fight back. The only sound coming from his ruined throat was a low guttural grunting that was barely audible over the sounds of Rick drinking

At this point, Peacemaker stopped struggling. Though you could still hear his heart fighting to continue beating, his body was slumped limply with Rick’s hand on his chest the only thing keeping him vertical. Without pausing his drinking, Rick glanced up at you, his eyes radiant and full of life. You smiled coyly at him and he winked at you in return. Then, as he took one last long sip, he quickly grabbed Peacemaker’s head and twisted it almost a full 180°. Instantly, his faint, struggling heartbeat fell silent.

Rick released the body and it clattered to the floor in a heap. Then he turned to face you. Even when he was still human, back before you turned him, Rick Flag was one of the most alluring men you had ever encountered in your thousands of years of walking this Earth. And since the change, in moments like these where he was fresh from a feed, it almost hurt to look at him. 

Though still coated in blood, sweat, and dirt, Rick’s bronzed skin seemed to glow as he walked toward you. The muscles in his arms and chest strained against his tight, soiled t-shirt, his biceps bulging from the rush of fresh blood in his system. A few strands of hair had fallen across his face and you longed to reach out and brush them aside. 

He stopped just inches in front of you.

His lips still shone with blood yet instead of licking it off, he pressed them against yours. The second a drop of blood hit your tongue, your body came alive. Moaning softly, you pulled him deeper into you as just that little taste of blood had given you a jolt of energy. You slipped your tongue past his lips, savoring the fresh blood that still coated the inside of his mouth. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make all of your senses go into overdrive. 

Rick trailed his fingers down your side until he reached your hips and with one hand, he lifted you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. You knew that with his strength, all he needed was a single finger to hold a person aloft, and yet, his arm was wrapped tightly around you as if he might lose hold at any moment. Suddenly you realized that you may not have been the only one frightened that Rick was almost taken from you.

Forcing yourself to break contact with his lips, you leaned your forehead against his for a moment and then nudged his nose with yours. “I am very pleased that you are alright.”

“I am too.” He leaned into you, his forehead pressing even harder against yours. “Thank you for comin’ back and takin’ care of me.”

You chuckled softly as you cupped his face, your eyes shining brightly as you gazed at him. “You, silly, silly man. As if I could ever bear to leave you behind.” Then you pressed your lips against his once more.

It was a kiss that could have lasted an eternity (especially considering neither one of you needed to pause to take a breath), but soon the sounds of people entering what was left of the building above shattered the moment. Exchanging a quick look, you both nodded, and Rick set you down. It was doubtful anyone else could make it down to the basement anytime soon without clearing out a pathway first, but it was not a chance either of you was willing to make. 

Rick took your hand and began leading you from the room. However, you paused when you got to the doorway and glanced back. Peacemaker’s broken mangled body lay at the base of the far wall near where Rick had once laid. If anyone discovered him, it would be obvious that he had not been killed by DuBois’s bullet.

Slipping your hand from Rick’s, you placed your palms against the concrete wall and pushed. It didn’t take much effort for the already weakened material to come crashing down, leading to a domino effect that collapsed most of the remaining infrastructure around you.

As rubble and dust fell from the ceiling, Rick pulled you into his chest to protect you though most of the damage was being done in the room you had just left. When everything finally settled once more, you peeked out from Rick’s arms to assess the damage. 

Just as you had hoped, the bathroom had been obliterated and reduced to a massive pile of concrete. Buried under it was Peacemaker’s body along with the fact that Rick’s body was no longer there. Your secret was safe for now.

It was true that Richard Flag Jr. perished in the basement of Jotunheim along with his lieutenant. The two figures who quietly slipped from the ruins of the building, disappearing into a nearby crowd as they walked hand-in-hand, were no longer those people. Just as you had countless times before, you would need to become someone else. And while it would be a challenge, as long as you had the love of your life by your side, everything was going to be alright. 

Thank you for reading! I have completely fallen in love with these two and I am planning to write more one-shot fics set in the same universe. The series will be called Eternally Yours. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Taglist:@loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @lorecraft, @nerdysuperchick, @heart-0n-fire, @green-socks, @yespolkadotkitty, @marvelousmermaid, @heresathreebee, @11thstreetvigilante, @lacontroller1991, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @mayhem24-7forever, @lovearne, @sociiallydiisoriiented, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @that-sarcastic-writer, @bewitchedignition, @katjnordstrom96, @wildbornsiren, @foli-vora

#whumptober #whumptober2022 #whumptober 2022 #fic #no.28 #altprompt #protective #eternally yours #rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #colonel rick flag #vampire!rick flag #peacemaker #the suicide squad #joel kinnaman #f!reader #dc #dc x reader #angst #whump #blood tw #violence tw #language tw

[lovearne]

"I should have left you bleeding to your death." Maybe this with Tak?

Takeshi kovacs x gn reader

This is set in the 10th episode of season 1.

Warnings: angst, breakups, mention of blood

Word count: 400+

"So this is it? You're leaving?"

Tak had just gotten back from going to see Ortega, and now he came for you. He had to tell you and say goodbye. He wasn't long for this body.

"I have to find her. She's still alive somewhere." His tone was even, yet firm, he wasn't leaving any room for you to attempt talking him out of it.

"Fuck that, if she's alive out there and left you for 250 years, then she can fuck herself!" Takeshi had come back just to tell you he was leaving, that you were never going to see him again. He was going to look for Quell Falconer, the love of his life.

"You don't understand, I watched her die, I saw her explode. That ripped my heart to shreds." He was walking toward you with his hands open. "I'm sorry that I'm hurting you but, I love her more than anything, and I need her back."

"What about me?" You push him back, tossing his arms to his side. "What about me?" You can no longer hide the tears in your eyes. "I thought you loved me." The tears had started to come down. Tak's face never changed though.

"I never loved you. You just stupidly fell in love with me." You hit his chest as he tries to hug you again, pushing and Slapping at it.

"Why are you still here then!? Shouldn't you be out looking for the only person you care about?!" Tak grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his chest. "What are you doing?" He hushed you.

"I'm giving you a goodbye hug," he rubs your back, kissing the top of your head. "It's for closure." The fat tears were rolling down your face.

"I should have left you bleeding to your death" Tak knows that when you are upset you say things you don't mean. You don't understand your emotions very well, and when someone hurts you you bite back.

"Yeah," his voice stayed normal, but a tear streamed down his face too. "You probably should have." He pulls away from you, kissing your forehead and then leaving the room. It hurt to know that you'd never see him again, but it hurt more because he left you for someone he doesn't even know is still kicking.

#takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs #joel kinnaman x reader #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman x you #altered carbon #request #blurb #arne writes

[floralcyanide]

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰'𝒎 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒀𝒐𝒖, 𝑰 𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝑨𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆

ed baldwin x gn!reader

Upon hearing bad news, Ed just needs someone there for him.

warnings: spoilers for For All Mankind, child death, minor character death, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/ comfort, cuddling, just friends but also mutually crushing type vibes

word count: 1271

author's note: here's the ed angst I've had bouncing around in my head. I feel it's kind of uneventful, but I had to write this and share it with the world because I love putting characters I love through the wringer for no reason. enjoy!

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

You had watched helplessly as Ed destroyed the Soviet camera. It was seated in an open space between rocks and neatly covered up until Ed ripped the boulders off and over his shoulder. There wasn’t much you could do as he took his pickaxe and savagely mangled the camera. 

Earlier, both of you had received a message about Ed’s son from the Soviets with them offering their condolences. You both were confused, and when Ed asked you to clarify, you were no help. No one from Houston had told you anything. Gordo had been acting a little weird, but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. You suggested maybe the Soviets had been listening to your messages to your families, and there was a mix-up in translation. Either way, Ed was angry that the Soviets would even bother to mess with his head like that. So he took it out on the spy camera, much to your dismay. You hoped the Soviets wouldn’t get angry and try to harm either of you. 

Now, you and Ed were shedding your suits in the chamber before returning to the base. Once you get back inside, you immediately head for the cupboards for something to eat. Even if the food was disgusting, it did its job. You sit at the makeshift kitchen counter as Ed enters the main area. Suddenly, you hear a voice coming from the comms.

“Ed? Are you there? Ed?”

You turn in your seat at the table and watch as Ed cautiously walks to the comms screen. His ex-wife Karen is on the call, appearing very emotional. 

“It’s Shane,” Karen says, her voice cracking as she puts her hand on the screen.

Ed’s face twists into a look of shock and horror, tears brimming his eyes. His seemingly unlikely fear had come to fruition. You freeze in your seat, realizing something did happen to his son, Shane, as the Soviets insinuated. Condolences are only given when someone dies… That’s when it hits you. Ed collapses to his knees, burying his face in his hands. You’re unsure of what to do, still sitting in your seat with your food on the table in front of you. You push it aside as Ed shakily reaches up to turn off the communications. He didn’t want to hear the details of what happened right now.

“Ed?” you call softly, getting up from your sitting position and slowly walking toward him, “Are you alright?”

Ed doesn’t say a word but instead snatches the bottle of alcohol from a nearby table before spinning the top off.

“Oh no, you don’t,” you say, pulling the bottle away from Ed, “That will only make things worse.”

Ed can hardly look at you, tears falling freely down his face. He would never tell you this, but he hates looking weak, especially in front of you. He admires you in many ways, and he hates you having to see him falling apart like this. The chemistry between you was apparent, but those feelings were being shoved aside for now.

Ed walks a few short steps into the main area, where some chairs are splayed out, and he takes a seat on the floor. You sit next to him as he rubs his hands over his face. Ed punches the wall next to him angrily before pounding it again and again. You grab ahold of his wrist, stopping him mid-punch before he can split his knuckles open any further.

“Edward,” you say sternly, looking at him with concern. His eyes slowly meet yours for the first time.

You reach your hands toward Ed’s face, taking it into your grasp before moving in front of him. He lets his head relax into your palms and casts his eyes downward.

“Look at me,” you say softly as your own tears begin to burn in your eyes.

Ed’s eyes travel up to yours.

“There we go. I know this is a horrible situation, but you’re strong, and you’ve got this. You have to stay vigilant.”

“But he’s gone, Y/N,” Ed whispers, “He’s gone, and I’m here, and there’s nothing I can do.”

“You can stay focused and be tough for Shane. That’s all you can do right now, and I’m so sorry,” you frown, sniffing as tears run down your cheeks, “I’m so sorry you’re stuck here. I really am.”

Ed’s eyes squeeze shut as another wave of realization hits him. Sobs wracked his body, and you pulled his head to your chest, stroking his hair comfortingly.

“You’ll be okay. It will take time, but you will be okay again,” you say as you let Ed cry into your shirt.

You shuffle over to the wall, letting your back rest against it as Ed buries his face in your lap, curling up into himself. All you can do is run your hand over his back and through his hair as he pours out his grief. Seeing the man you look up to and have feelings for break down like this was odd, but losing a child is unfathomable. And Ed didn’t have anyone other than Shane after his and Karen’s divorce, except his colleagues, of course. But Ed had no one to run to when everything was falling apart. He especially had no one now except you, literally. Almost a quarter of a million miles away from home with no one else around to ease his pain. At least Ed wasn’t completely alone.

You feel Ed relaxing into your lap, and you figure he’s falling asleep.

“Ed? Let’s get you to your bunk, alright?”

Ed hums in response, except when you expect him to get up, he doesn’t. He turns over, presses his face to your stomach, and wraps his arms around your waist. Butterflies erupt in your belly at the close proximity. You adored Ed, but you didn’t want to take advantage of him right now when he couldn’t think straight. 

“Ed,” you draw out, but he ignores you.

Reluctantly, you move Ed off you and stand up, offering him a hand to pull him up. He takes it and stands up, brushing himself off and avoiding your gaze once again. He doesn’t let go of your hand the whole way to the bunks, and you don’t go of his either.

You watch as Ed climbs inside his bunk, and you prepare to climb into your own below his.

“Will you stay?” Ed asks quietly, and you almost don’t hear him.

“I’ll be right below you the whole time, Ed,” you say, not wanting to cross any boundaries.

“Please?”

You pause, taking a deep breath. Yes, you’re lonely, but not so much that you’d do something frowned upon. However, a situation like this just doesn’t happen- kids aren’t supposed to die before their parents. Especially when one of their parents is on the Moon. But you’d want someone to comfort you if you lost someone you loved.

You exhale slowly before climbing into Ed’s bunk and lying beside him. He reaches over you to pull the curtain closed. For a moment, the both of you just stare at each other. But you hesitantly reach out your hand to pull Ed to you. He ignores you, pulling you into him instead. You wrap your arms around him as he buries his face into your neck, tears falling onto your skin. The both of you stay like that for a while, just holding each other as Ed cries. You let him tucker himself out before falling asleep yourself. 

You aren’t sure what tomorrow will hold, but you’ll be there for Ed despite it all.

#ed baldwin #ed baldwin x reader #ed baldwin x you #for all mankind #for all mankind 2019 #for all mankind tv #for all mankind apple tv #ed baldwin fanfic #ed baldwin fanfiction #ed baldwin fic #ed baldwin imagine #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman fic #joel kinnaman fanfic #joel kinnaman fanfiction #angst #tw death #death #child death #floralcyanide writes

[reveluving]

I have another ideaaaa 👀 I imagine Santi and Benny being very flamboyant when it comes to showing their admiration for someone. Imagine Rick bringing lunch to reader’s unexpectedly just to see Santi bringing her flowers and Benny giving her the heart eyes. My poor flag baby might have a stroke just from the scene in front of hiiimmm!!

a/n: Aria, baby. it’s been a long ass time ✋🏼😔 BUT THE FIXATION IS BACK (kinda. largely because I’ve been reading fics after fics of Oscar & Pedro chars. RAAAAAH). so we’re here baby, after 1 ½? 2 years later???? ENJOY

warnings: humour & fluff; poor Rick just wants to love you in peace.

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

Oh, you know Rick’s eyes are TWITCHING. The paper bag in his hand, packed with lunch from your favourite stop, crumpling in his grasp, almost tearing at the top. Not the food though, he’s not trying to ruin his wife’s favourite. 

But he’s chill. Absolutely chill. He swears. 

Benny and Santi just had to stop by the same time he came home from work, both leaning against the white porch railing while you sat prettily on the bench. 

Benny was expressive in whatever he was talking about, likely his last boxing match from the way he was holding the air in a headlock before the three of you shared a laugh. As much of a troublemaker they were, they were your friends, after all. He’d chase them off his property or warn them with a glare any day if it meant cutting off any form of ‘allegiances’ with that horrible past, both yours and his.

Just when you were about to reply to God knows what they asked, you noticed Rick lingering by the mailbox. Your eyes lit up, and it didn’t take the duo any other hints to know that he was home.

“Rick!” You enthusiastically waved at your husband, beckoning him to sit on the bench next to you. Rick couldn’t help but smile back at you, walking over and ignoring the two until he reached the top step of the stairs.

“Boys.” He greeted them, going over to shake Santiago’s hand before Benny’s, flexing his hands as they shook to see if the other would break. None did, as usual, pulling away and somewhat putting the tension on hold in favour of you. Rick took a seat next to you, passing you the bag of food and a soft ‘there y’go, baby’ (but not really, he made sure the two would hear it). 

It took a few seconds, making sure he greeted you with a kiss before stretching his arm to lay on the backrest behind you.

“So, what’s the occasion?”

“The boys just came over to say hi. Gave me these flowers from the flower shop nearby,” You raised the calla lilies that were resting on your lap. Now, Rick was no flower specialist, but he has been to the shop countless times to buy you your own fix. 

And if he remembered correctly, they generally represented beauty.

Well played.

“And Santi was just telling me about this new Cuban restaurant just outside the neighbourhood.” You continued, turning to Santiago with an encouraging smile so he could tell Rick about it.

“Cuban restaurant, huh?” 

Santiago curtly nodded to his curiosity. 

“The best. Might even be your new favourite once you both try it.” He explained, only to glance at the paper bag Rick was holding—a look that was almost… Judgemental? Critical? All of the above? All Rick knew that the man before him was silently scoffing at his choice. 

And, well, Santi wouldn’t exactly deny that claim, either. 

Rick didn’t hide the scoff, only to pair it with a faux smile so you could take it as nothing more than a harmless banter, “Gotta be real good then. ‘Cause this here,” He cocked his head in the paper bag’s direction, “Is my wife’s favourite place. Our favourite place.”

Rick not only had to watch out for the bold claim Santi was making, but he also had to bear in mind the sight of Benny openly looking at you like a lovestruck puppy. The promising boxer didn’t even care about the passive-aggressive argument going on around him. He was just appreciating the beaut in front of him.

(Man’s just doesn’t give a shit atm).

“Hey, I’m not here to burst your bubble,” Santi huffed in amusement, raising his hands in a defensive way, “But I’m not trying to give the pretty girl any mediocre recommendations either. C’mon Flag, you, of all people, should know that we want the best for her.”

“Aw, Santi, you’re too kind.” You were touched and it showed, and Rick couldn’t argue with the statement. Without a doubt, he wants what was best for you, be it food, comfortable clothes, gourmet treats for the fucking neighbourhood cat you adore—anything. 

In the midst of their silent argument, you reached for Rick’s hand, holding his larger ones in between yours, “I’m sure Rick and I will enjoy it,” He mirrored the warm smile as you stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, only to break when you addressed the two, “And if it’s as good as you said it is, we might as well have a get together.”

Oh. 

You were growing concerned of the two’s silence, eyes darting back and forth and almost—almost asking what was wrong until Benny, as if snapped out of his trance, finally, spoke up. 

“Absolutely.” Benny raised his hand in a manner that a believer would in church. 

Abso-fucking-lutely.

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[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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[loverhymeswith]

Nothing Will Ever Be the Same

Pairing: Rick Flag x F!Reader

Summary: Jotunheim has fallen and Project Starfish is on the loose, but all you really care about is Rick.

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, presumed character death, language, mention of blood and injury

A/N: Thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer for the prompt and for reminding me that today is in fact the anniversary of a very special film being released. Happy anniversary Rick Flag <3 This was supposed to be a smutty drabble, but it turned into something else.

Pain, the likes of which you’ve never felt before, sears through every cell in your body. Your heart feels as if it’s been ripped from your chest. Death and destruction might be your bread and butter, but this… this was never part of the plan.

Before you, dust settles over the ruins of Jotunheim. “We need to go back,” you scream, struggling furiously against the tight grip that Dubois has around your waist.

“Don’t be stupid," he growls over the distant rumbling of a city being destroyed. "You wanna get yourself killed, too?”

You continue to thrash against his hold, fingernails scratching uselessly at the tough leather of his suit. "Let me go," you screech. "Let. Me. Go."

The assassin tightens his grip, his head bent low to ensure you hear every word he's about to say. Like you, he is coated in blood and regret. "It's over. He's gone." The blunt tone isn't enough to hide his sorrow, those four words clearly weighing heavily on his tongue. 

And just like that, the fight leaves you. In Dubois' arms, you go limp. He's gone. Tears stain your filthy cheeks and your knees buckle, but your friend doesn't let you fall.

"C'mon." Dubois turns you away from the rubble. "You know he'd want you to keep going. We've still got to stop that thing."

The sound of your violent sobbing masks the distant noise of destruction as the unleashed "Project Starfish" wreaks havoc on the streets of Valle de Mar.  Dubois grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his steely gaze. "Pull yourself together Lieutenant."

Technically, you're the commanding officer now, but you don't want to pull yourself together. You don't want to be strong. Rick is gone and nothing will ever be the same again.

It had been a clash of personalities in the beginning. Disagreements on the battlefield that gave way to heated arguments back at base. But you had quickly discovered your passion and temper was better suited to the bedroom. Rick was the gasoline that fueled your flames and when he fucked you for the first time, it felt like the two of you might set the world alight.

Post-mission trysts started bleeding into early mornings, fighting over who was going to use the shower first and how you probably shouldn't turn up to work at the same time. But despite your best attempts at subtlety and discretion, the shift in your relationship from colleagues to something more did not go by unnoticed by the rest of the squad. Over time it had become an accepted fact. Even if there wasn't quite a label for what you meant to one another, it was clear enough for everyone to see this was more than just friendship with benefits. 

"I can't do this without him, Robert." Your body trembles under the crushing weight of your loss.

"You can. You will.” Dubois' hand drops to your shoulder, softly squeezing. “Now let’s go. We need to move out."

Before you can argue, before you can tell him he'll never understand, movement on the periphery of your vision sends you whirling around. Dust is rising from the ruins and you watch, frozen in terror, as the pile of bricks and debris begins to shift.

Dubois is already reaching for his gun. It's an unconscious reaction, the way your arm stretches out to stop him. "Wait," you murmur hesitantly. Fear has given way and something like hope now stirs in the pit of your stomach.

"If it's Pissmaker-"

"It isn't."

The two of you wait on bated breath until eventually out of the rubble a figure emerges. The t-shirt is more crimson than yellow and it looks like he's crawled through hell to get here, but there's no mistaking the figure now staggering towards you.

"Rick."

Dubois starts to curse, but you don't hear the rest of his statement because you’re already sprinting through the wreckage to reach your battered and bloody soldier.

Rick spots you approaching and his jaw slackens. The relief you find in his expression is undoubtedly a twin to your own. You can barely dare to believe your eyes. When you finally close the distance, throwing yourself into his arms, you weep against his chest. “I thought I lost you.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, sweetheart," he grunts against the shell of your ear.

A half-laugh, half-sob escapes your trembling lips, but you feel Rick stiffen in your embrace. Quickly pulling back to study him, you find his face drawn in pain. "You're hurt."

"It can wait." 

Regardless of your audience, Rick cups your jaw in his filthy hands, pulling you swiftly towards his lips. His kiss is fierce and claiming. A promise – you hope – that he's never going to leave you again. He tastes of blood and sweat and tears, but you don't care. He's alive. Nothing else matters. Not Waller or Project Starfish, not Dubois or the rest of the squad. As his warm tongue slips across the seam of your lips, your fingers trace the lines of his face, mapping every curve, every scar. Committing him to memory. You came too close to losing him today.

Suddenly from behind you, there’s an exasperated groan. Dubois. “Alright you two, get a room.”

Several hours later, that’s exactly what you do. After the city has been saved from the giant starfish and the island has been liberated from military control, you and Rick find yourselves alone in the bedroom of an abandoned apartment, the owners either deceased or they have fled. 

The remaining squad members are similarly scattered throughout the building, seeking shelter and rest while you await extraction back to home soil. Although judging by how things went down with Waller, you probably shouldn't hold your breath. Maybe she’ll leave you out here to rot.

Rick sits on the bed before you, stripped down to his boxers. He's fidgeting impatiently as you finish wrapping a clean bandage around his waist. There’s barely a square inch of his body that isn't wounded in some way. "Hold still," you grumble, bending over his seated form. "I'm almost done."

As you might have predicted, Rick had refused to sit out the final battle, despite his host of injuries requiring immediate attention. You'd patched him up as quickly and efficiently as possible before the fighting started, but most of the dressings have since needed to be replaced. The moment you tie off the final bandage, Rick’s hands land on your waist and he tugs you gently into his lap. 

"You should really get some rest," you admonish as his lips start to trail a path of soft kisses along the column of your neck.

"Don't wanna rest, darlin'." His warm breath tickles as he nuzzles the sensitive spot just below your ear.

By all rights you should both be exhausted, but the adrenaline of the mission still courses through your veins. The terror of coming so close to losing him has yet to fully relinquish it's tight grip around your throat, and though you can see for yourself that he's alive and breathing, it's somehow not quite enough. 

Judging by the heated expression darkening his hazel eyes as Rick watched you work, he feels it too, and now with only a thin layer of cotton between the two of you, there's no hiding where his thoughts are headed. Your fingers skim over his stubbled jaw, tilting his head and forcing him to meet your concerned gaze. "What if I hurt you?"

"You won't." Rick’s voice is rough before he lowers his head again, sharp teeth grazing your throat. "I just need to feel you,” he mutters. “To remember that this is real. It's not a dream. We made it out. We're gonna be ok."

You make love to Rick on the edge of a stranger's bed. It's clumsy and sweaty and he's grunting in pain but he won't let you stop. His face is buried against your neck, wet lips whispering words of almost incoherent praise. Broad hands are splayed across the curve of your spine, a burning brand keeping your body firmly moulded to his own. Your fingers dig into the flesh of his wide shoulders as you roll your hips over the length of him, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. 

"We're gonna be ok," you repeat breathlessly as you feel him reach his climax. “We’re gonna be ok.”

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