#— reve’s rick flag reverie 🌹 is open for your thots! 📬
Yes, you read the tag/title right.
In lieu of living through what my dear ol’ eyes had to witness in the recent Peacemaker episodes, I am starting my own agenda to flood my flabbergasted mind, body and soul with the real Richard “Rick” Flag Jr., and maybe yours, too.
Besides begging you to flood my inbox with fluffy/smexy Rick Flag thoughts, I might be looking back at the drafts I had from however long ago to polish and share (a few existing ones in my inbox!). In the meantime, please, for our well-being, let's give ourselves the treatment we deserve!
#— Not sure what to flood my inbox about? Come and read what I’ve made about R. Flag via my Joel K. full masterlist!
– Maybe you’ve wondered about a certain type of shenanigan the family man gets into? Or just that your husband needs a little alone time with the missus?
– Perhaps a knucklehead moment between Rick and the Delta boys over his wife?
– Or maybe you just want some sweet, sweet adult time-loving?
Warnings: SMUT 18+, language, dirty talk, sexual suggestions, drinking, innuendos, girl on top, unestablished relationship, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), creampie, uncovered feelings, tipsy sex with consent
Inspired by a conversation with @a-reader-and-a-writer a long time ago.
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Rick looks over his shoulder for the ninth time in a row, his hands gripping his mug a little tighter each time as he watches you laugh in amusement, a smile never leaving your face as you watch man after man get tossed from the mechanical bull. Rick grumbles at the sight, swirling his beer around before downing it and making his way over to the crowd.
Tapping on the announcer's shoulder, Rick asks to be next as he catches your eyes from the arena, a perfect brow raised in question.
"Alright folks, our next contestant is Rick!" The crowd cheers around him but his ears tune out all the others, only focusing on the way you cheer his name. The man places a worn cowboy hat on Rick's parted hair before giving him a slap on the back. "Good luck." Rick nods as he hops over the barricade and straddles the mechanical bull. Gripping onto the handle with one hand, Rick holds onto the hat as the bull slowly begins to move. After picking up pace, Rick's body flows with each rough thrust of the bull. People around him cheering and screaming in support as Rick manages to stay on the bull longer than most of the previous riders.
You, on the other hand, can't help the way the blush slowly blooms under your skin as your eyes fixate on his posture and how it moves in tandem. And his hips. His damn hips. "Hot damn." A girl next to you mutters as she twirls a finger in her hair, her heated gaze watching Rick's body. You roll your eyes in annoyance as jealousy creeps in. It's not like he's yours. He's merely a friend, a coworker, but damn you wish he was yours. You take another sip of the drink in your hand as the bull starts to slow down.
"Alright, easy there cowboy. Don't wanna show up everybody now," the announcer jokes as the bull comes to a complete stop, allowing Rick to slip off with grace and make his way over to you, a shit eating grin on his face, but before he can make a comment, the girl from earlier steps in.
"Howdy cowboy. Wanna take me for a ride?" You have to resist the urge to kick her ass into the floor as Rick lightly places his hands on her arms and pushes her to the side, unveiling you.
"Enjoy the show?"
"Oh for sure. You were definitely entertaining," you comment, plucking the hat off his head and placing it on yours, a sudden surge of confidence flowing through you. "Though I'd like to see what else those hips could do, Colonel."
Rick chuckles, taking the drink out of your hand, the adrenaline from the ride and alcohol coursing through his veins and giving him the courage to flirt back. "Well darlin', that's if you can handle the ride."
"What makes you think I can't, Colonel?" Rick blushes as your manicured hand traces down his covered abdomen. "I don't think you could handle the rider."
Rick takes a step closer, walking into your touch and you can't deny the pure energy that flows between the contact. "Why don't we get outta here and find out?" Your previously hooded eyes shoot wide open as you take in the meaning of his words and for a second you can see the regret in Rick's eyes at the bold suggestion. "I mean, we don't actually have to. I was just flirtin'. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He mentally beats himself up as his eyes roam the room, finding interest in a random hole on the wall. He knows he shouldn't have said anything. He knows he should've stuck to just keeping things professional but a hand on his forearm stirs him from his thoughts as he looks down at you, sporting a soft smile.
"No, no." You're quick to reassure him. "I could go for a ride."
You and Rick kiss each other with a blind passion, teeth clanging against each other as he backs you and him through the door to his apartment. Falling onto the couch, Rick's hands fall to your hips and drag you on top, your legs straddling either side of his legs as his hands roam around your body.
Breaking away, the two of you pant as you hastily get undressed, dying to have full skin on skin contact. Slipping off his lap, you shove your pants and underwear off before yanking your shirt off, sitting naked on his couch as he shoves his pants down enough for his cock to spring out and slap against his stomach, precum leaking out of the tip. He immediately grabs his member and gives himself a couple of pumps as you reposition yourself over his lap.
"Are you sure about this, we can stop." You shake your head, pushing his hand away and grabbing his member, running the tip over your wet folds.
"1000%. You have no clue how many times I've thought of this." Rick smirks at your comment, his hands falling to your hips.
"Is that so? You think about this? About us?" You nod, jolting forward slightly when his tips nudges your clit. "How often?"
You don't know if now is the time to be admitting your feelings for the colonel, but judging by the way he's looking at you with hope in his lustful eyes. Might as well. "Every night."
Rick resists the urge to break out in a big grin and hop from his chair in excitement at your proclamation of attraction, after all, it means that he has a 99.9% chance that you would say yes to a date if he would ask and he likes those odds. Instead, he hangs his head and smiles softly, a perfect ash blond lock falling to his forehead and you immediately push it back, causing him to look up at you from his position. "How about we take this to the bed?"
"I think I'd like that." Rick nods his head before standing up and carrying you to his bedroom as your hands mess with his short cropped hair. It doesn't take long before he is laying you out on the bed and slotting himself between your legs, his large frame covering yours.
"Are you absolutely sure?" His normal hazel eyes now seem a dark brown in the dark of the night as he stares down at you, looking for any sign of hesitation.
Smirking, you wrap your legs around his waist and flip him over to where you situate yourself on top, breasts heaving with each breath causing Rick to drool. He always knew you like to be in charge, in fact it sometimes causes arguments between the two of you, but now? Rick doesn't think he minds you in control. "I did say I was gonna ride you, didn't I?"
Taking control of the situation, you grab ahold of his member before lining him up with your sex and slip him in as the both of you groan at the sensation. You had always fantasized about how Rick would feel buried in you, fantasized about how big he is, but in comparison to the real thing, your fantasies severely underestimated how it would actually feel. "Fuck darlin'. You're so tight."
Blush blooms underneath your cheeks as you hesitantly roll your hips, watching his face and gauging for a reaction. Much like on the field and in the office, Rick shows little to no expression at the movement of your hips. Normally you would pass off his stoic behavior as just him keeping to himself, but you really don't think now is the time for him to be silent. Stilling yourself, you place your hands on his chest, being very careful to avoid the angry scar down his left pec. "Y'know Rick, my job would be easier if you gave me some sort of clue as to how you feel."
Rick honestly didn't realize his stoic behavior. If he's being honest with himself, he's just trying to keep his cool and to not cum in you. If he did, he doesn't think he would be able to forgive himself for embarrassing him in front of you, especially during sex. Instead, Rick's large hands place themselves on your hips as he guides you along his member, sitting up and sliding deeper into you, the tip of his member hitting your cervix, causing you to gasp while Rick smirks. "Trust me darlin', I feel amazing." He captures your lips against his, your hips moving in tandem with each other as he slides in and out of you with ease. "Don't think I'll be able to last much longer with the way you rock those hips."
If you thought he already had a southern accent, the alcohol and the lust make it ten fold and if you didn't know who you were with, you would probably assume that you weren't with Rick. Still, his accent, his scent, the way he feels in you, the heat of his skin, and the way he holds you in his grasp has your orgasm approaching. Knotting your hands in his hair, you let mindless fingers pull at soft tufts as your pants get louder, spurring the colonel on. "That's it, darlin'. Use my cock to make you cum."
One more thrust is all you need before you're letting out broken moan into the night as your orgasm crashes over you, waves of pleasure radiating down from your head to your toes as Rick continues to thrust up into you with the sole intent of bringing his orgasm. Noticing how his hips start to falter, you grab his chin and turn it towards you, a different kind of ferocity in your eyes. "I want you to cum. I want you to cum in me, Rick. Make me yours."
"Fuck." Rick's eyes roll back in his head as he spurts his hot cum in you while you rock your hips against his to coax him through his orgasm. After a minute of collective breathing, he gently picks you off his lap and sets you down beside him on his bed as his hand finds yours. "I want to do that again."
"Right now?" You question with a giggle as he brings your had up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles that sends butterflies to your stomach.
"Well, I'll need a couple of minutes before round two, but I'm talking about permanently. Would you like to go on a date with me?"
Smiling, you roll onto your stomach and rest your chin on his chest. "I think I'd love to. But now," you drag a finger down his chest, twirling a strand of his happy trail between your fingers, sporting a grin that has Rick's cock twitching, "I wanna do that again."
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Author's Note: So this is the first full length Rick fic I've posted in a while but I hope you guys enjoy!!!!!!
General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @a-reader-and-a-writer @fairchildflag @infatuatedjanes
A/N: Can be read as continuation from previous fic - A beardful! Also this gif🥹
Genre: PG-13
Notes: Baby Robin explores the Flag Residence on workout day.
At 3 years old, the youngest in the Flag family was naturally curious, wandering off the moment eyes were looking elsewhere.
Today was workout day, which meant that every member of the family - including his favorite uncle and aunts were training at the underground facility that Papa build.
Little Robin toddles towards the shed, pressing the big red button that his Mama always pressed when she bought drinks for everyone.
Entering the big silver box, Robin sees many circles on the wall. Which one should he press? He goes straight for the button lowest and the easiest to reach.
The silver box whirs to life and starts to bring Robin downwards. The box opens and Robin sees a light down the hallway. That’s where must Papa must be!
As fast as his legs could take him, Robin enters the room.
“Hello Robin!” He sees Aunt Cleo at the table, observing Sebastian running on the mini treadmill that was specially designed for the rat. “How did you come here?”
And so Robin finds himself being the “trainer” for Sebastian as assigned by Cleo to make sure that Sebastian doesn’t slack. “He’s been eating too much cheese.” Cleo tells him.
Cleo gives him a bag of dried apples after a job well done. “Bring this to Mama ok?” As Robin sets off to find his Papa.
He continues to walk, turning right to the next hallway. Another door! Papa must be there. Robin tip-toes to grip the handle but without much success. Then, the door opens.
“Heya little rugrat!” A familiar pale face stares down at him. “Come to see me on the ropes?”
Robin feels himself lifted up and placed into a chair to watch Aunt Harley do a mind boggling routine on the ropes that were attached to the celling.
Achieving a perfect landing, Robin laughs, clapping his hands wildly.
“Aw!!! You’re the sweetest cherry little birdie!” Harley chirps. Then it hits her. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be with Mama?”
Robin blinks at his Aunt Harley.
“Oh!!! You’re here to look for Flag! Well then! He’s just down there! Gotta go now!” And with that, Aunt Harley’s ponytails swish behind the doors.
Robin toddles down further, entering the next room he sees.
Uncle Robert’s at a weird looking contraption with handles for him to pull blocks attached to the string. Robin always knew that Uncle Robert is strong.
“Now how did you get down here little chap? And what’s this?” Robert finishes his set of weights, pointing to the bag of dried apples that Cleo gave earlier.
“Papa.”
As always, Robert is able to understand what Robin wants with few words.
“Your old man’s coming down shortly. I’ll stay here with you until he comes least you’re up to no good.” Robert lifts Robin up, taking him to the seat that was within his sight.
“Guess you’ll just have to be with me for now.”
***
“Damn it!” You cursed internally, briskly walking towards the shed. You should have known better the moment your baby boy could stand on his two feet.
Dusting the flour from your pants, you pressed the lift button repeatedly. Reaching underground in record time, you entered the first room to see Cleo cleaning up Sebastian’s treadmill.
“Hey Cleo, have you seen Robin?”
“No, I have not.” Cleo scrunches her face in confusion. “I thought he went back to find you.” She sees the worried expression on your face and quickly changes her tone.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure he hasn’t gone far. I can get Sebastian to find where he is.” Cleo switches on her light, summoning Sebastian and a few other rats to go on the hunt.
The two of you hurried down the hall, calling for Robin.
As you make the turn, you bump into Harley who was blasting pop rock on her earpiece that you could almost hear it from a mile away.
“Heya Mama! Whatcha doing here too?” She says a little too loudly. But you caught what she had said.
“Robin came down here too?”
“Yeah, must have been looking for Flag. Hey, where is he though?”
So in a condensed version, you repeated the same thing to Harley and off the three of you went, looking for a misplaced toddler.
You almost tore parts of your hair out upon looking at another dark room when-
“You sneaky munchkin! He’s alright Mama! Just here hanging out with the man crew.” Harley hollers down the hallway to attract yours and Cleo’s attention.
Breathing a sigh of relief, you sped down the rooms to meet Harley standing outside.
“Robin, where have you been? Mama’s was worried-” You came to a stop, the rest of the words forgotten. In front of you was possibly the most cutest and ridiculous sight you ever seen.
“Eighteen… Nineteen… and, twenty!” Rick completes his pull-ups in quick succession with Robin safety fastened to the baby carrier that your husband wore.
“Up! Upppp!!!” Robin pleads with his Papa, chubby legs wiggling in the carrier. Rick wipes his sweat before removing Robin carefully from the carrier. “Let’s take a break first bub.”
You decide to make yourself known.
“So that’s where you are!” You smiled brightly, opening your arms as Robin clumsily runs into your arms. “How was workout with Papa?”
“Workout, was amazing. Right buddy?” Rick gives you a kiss on the cheek.
“Ya lady here almost lost her marbles when she couldn’t find Robin!” Harley saunters up beside you.
“Nothin to worry about,” Rick flashes one of his signature grins that you fell in love with in the first place. “Just two of us spending some man time together right?”
Robin giggles, detaching himself from you to latch onto his father’s leg once more. You swore you could see Rick melt a little.
Picking Robin up, he bobs his nose playfully. “Alright mister, for making Mama worried, your gonna have to take a bath!”
Robin squeals at the mention of a bath.
“You’re not going anywhere Mister!” Rick has a firm grip on Robin who tries to worm his way out. He comes to your side, careful to keep your baby out of earshot.
Summary: You’re a prisoner in Belle Reve, and Rick is tasked with recruiting you for Task Force X.
Pairing: Rick Flag x reader
Word count: 10.6k (it’s a long one)
Warnings: Violence, death, blood, attempted rape, angst of course
A/N: So no one asked for this, but I watched The Suicide Squad and became obsessed with him, so... yeah. Enjoy a non-dark-ish one for a change!
Belle Reve had a new prisoner.
She came in kicking and screaming, her shrill shrieks bouncing off of the tiled walls. Two guards in full SWAT armor carried her in, keeping their heads down. They moved so fast, they practically lifted her off the ground, her feet barely brushing the floor. The fluorescent lights casting an eerie, green-tinged glow flickered above her one by one as she moved past them.
Rick Flag watched her from a room on the other side of a one way mirror in the hallway, a passive observer. She had on a straitjacket, buckles and straps binding her arms and securing them in place. Tears ran down her cheeks, her eyes red and puffy from crying so hard.
She leaned her head back, and a piercing wail escaped her throat, this one louder than all the rest. The light above her shattered with a thunderous crack, splintering into a thousand pieces. The guards dropped her to shield themselves from the torrential downpour of glass shards raining down on them.
She managed to land on her feet and stood up as straight as a board. One of the guards lunged at her. She glared at him, and he flew backwards as if some invisible force had pushed him. He collided with the wall painfully before sliding down it, collapsing into a crumpled heap on the floor.
The other guard moved to restrain her, but she landed a solid kick to his chest that threw him back. Several other guards came stampeding into the hall until she was soon surrounded. She did her best to fend them off, but they piled on top of her until one managed to stab a needle into her neck.
Her entire body went still. Her eyelashes fluttered, and then Rick swore she looked right at him, even through the trick mirror. He went rigid, his breath caught in his throat. She was unflinching, the hard lines of her face set into a stern expression. It only lasted a second, but he felt like she saw straight through him to his very soul.
Then, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she wavered on her feet, swaying side to side. She finally lost balance as she went unconscious, tipping over. The guards caught her before she made contact with the ground. They hoisted her limp body in their arms and dragged her down the hallway until they were out of Rick's sight.
Beside him, Amanda Waller sipped from her coffee cup like she was watching the weatherman on the local news.
"Marvelous, isn't she?"
Rick tore his gaze away from the scene and looked at her. "She sure is something," he murmured.
She hummed in agreement. "She’s one of our new arrivals.” Her crimson-painted lips smirked over the rim of her mug. “One of the deadliest, too.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. "Is this why you called me here? To show off your shiny, new toys?"
The amusement dropped from her face, and she looked at him. "I brought you here because she, is your new assignment."
–
Belle Reve was noisy almost all hours of the day, so it surprised Rick when he stepped into the wing his assignment was being held in only to find it dead quiet.
“Special Cases Unit,” Waller told him as they traversed through the labyrinth of cells in Belle Reve. On either side of them, inmates yelled strings of profanities at them and rattled the bars of their cages. He tried to keep a straight face and ignore them, staring straight ahead and not daring to look any of them in the eye. “That’s where you’ll find her.”
There was no doubt in Rick’s mind that the word ‘special’ was a stand in for ‘dangerous,’ or even more likely, ‘exploitable.’
The thud of Rick’s boots against the squeaky clean tile echoed off of the blank, white walls. All of Belle Reve looked oddly pristine, but it was even more off putting and out of place here. It put on the appearance of a hospital, deceptively safe and luring its victims into a decapacitated state. If Rick knew anything about the way Waller’s mind operated, then he knew this ploy was intentional.
The hallway seemed to go on forever, stretching into eternity. He risked a glance at the doors on either side, and he could just catch glimpses of the people on the other side of the tiny, square windows in each. They were screaming, mouths open, eyes wide, and yet, it was so silent, you could hear a pin drop. It was the same as the others, only this time, someone had gotten the brilliant idea to install soundproof walls so you couldn’t hear them, which was strange. Rick thought Waller thrived on the sounds of their screams.
He turned a corner into another, thankfully smaller, hallway of doors. This area was less brightly lit than the others, less clinical and a little more dim. He stopped at the door at the very end. Two guards fully decked out in tactical gear stood at attention on either side, their hands resting on the handguns in their holsters, which even for a heavily guarded prison full of dangerous supercriminals was an odd occurrence.
“Colonel Rick Flag,” he announced himself. “I’m here to give the inmate her lunch.” He jutted his chin down at the metal tray of brown slop and gray mush in his hands.
They eyed him warily, but ultimately stepped aside. He slowly approached and stopped in front of the door, peering in through the small window he could only assume was bullet proof. Through the thick layers of glass, he could make out a brightly lit and fully padded cell that was rather large to contain only one person. At first glance, it looked completely empty until he noticed the girl in the corner.
She was awake now, sitting in the very back wedged in between the padded walls. Her knees were tucked under her chin, and she was rocking back and forth. Her head was down, so Rick couldn’t make out her face. His gaze fell to the straitjacket he had seen her in earlier. She was still wearing it.
“How’s she supposed to eat with that thing on?” he asked.
“How does a pig eat out of a trough?” one of the guards sneered, and they both snickered under their breath.
“Slide it through here,” the other grunted. He bent down and opened a slot in the very bottom of the heavy, solid door.
He raised a brow. “I need to speak to the inmate in person.”
“No one is allowed to enter the cell while she’s present.”
“Well, Amanda Waller gave me clearance.” He stood up a little straighter, displaying his staggering height over the man. “Does that mean anything?”
They both exchanged a meaningful look, something unspoken passing between them, but they ultimately gave in. The guard sighed before undoing the complicated lock on the door and wrenching it open with a metallic screech. “This better not come back to bite me in the ass,” he grumbled under his breath.
Rick swallowed hard before stepping over the threshold and into the cell. For a second, he could hear her mumbling to herself, or maybe it was a few notes of a melody she was humming. But at the noise of his entrance, her body went rigid, and her head shot up, eyes wide with fright and alarm.
There was a thunderous noise behind him, and he looked over his shoulder to see that they had wasted no time in slamming the door closed on him. He huffed before turning back around to face her.
She scrambled backwards and pressed herself even further into the corner, shrinking in on herself. “Stay away!” she exclaimed, panic and distress written all over her features. “Don’t come near me!”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said in a soft, soothing tone, adjusting his posture to appear non-threatening. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She shook her head vigorously. “It’s not that,” she gasped. “I can’t control it. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He blinked in shock. Rarely had he ever come across an inmate who was concerned for his safety. Usually, it was the exact opposite. He cracked a small smile. “You’re not going to hurt me.” He held up the tray higher for her to see. “Here, I brought lunch.”
He cautiously crept towards her, his boots making no sound as they sank into the cushioned floor. She was still curled up in the corner, completely closed off from him. The closer he got, the more he could see how badly she was shaking, her chest rising and falling like she was hyperventilating.
He stopped a couple of feet away from her and got down on his knees so they were eye to eye. He set the tray down and slid it the last couple of feet over to her. She recoiled into herself further, like she was afraid she might explode if she touched it.
“See?” He raised his hands in the air. “No harm done.”
She stopped shaking, her breath evening out. She stared at him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “They usually just slide it through the door and leave.”
“Well, I’m not the usual.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “My name is Colonel Rick Flag. What’s yours?” He shot her the warmest, friendliest grin he could muster.
She scoffed. “Like you don’t know already.”
It was true. Waller had told him everything about her prior.
She told him her name as she walked slightly in front of him, her hands clasped behind her back. She always liked to be a few steps ahead of everyone, literally and figuratively. "Grew up in Gotham, parents died. Got tossed around the foster system for a while before she became too much for them to handle and was sent to Arkham Asylum.”
“But why bring her here?” He struggled to keep up with her stride. “Why not keep her in Arkham?”
“They no longer had the resources to deal with her… capabilities.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “It’s better that she’s here with us, anyhow. I can only imagine the kinds of experiments they were doing on her there.”
Rick shuddered, but tried not to show it.
His smile didn’t falter. “I’d like to hear it from you, if you don’t mind.”
Her body relaxed a little bit more. She said her name in a whisper so quiet, Rick barely caught it. Her voice was so small and broken, almost on the verge of cracking.
He said her name back to her. “You have to be uncomfortable in that thing.” He gestured to the buckles going down the front of her straitjacket. “Why don’t I take it off for you so you can eat?”
She went tense again and firmly shook her head. “That’s not a good idea.”
His smile dropped. “Why not?”
“Because,” she hid her face behind her knees, “it’s worse when it’s off.”
“It’ll be alright,” he assured her. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
She seemed to believe him, because after a second, she sat up, tucking her legs underneath her. He scooted forward until he was right in front of her. He reached out and started undoing the buckles. She seemed like she was holding her breath the whole time.
He helped stripped her of the jacket and threw it aside, leaving her in her undershirt. She stayed very still, as if she were waiting for something to happen. What it was, Rick wasn’t sure, but it must’ve never come, because after a second, she let out a deep sigh of relief.
“See? That wasn’t so bad.” He smiled at her. “I told you everything would be fine.”
This time, she returned the smile, or at least attempted to, the corners of her dry lips twisting into a lopsided grimace. She stretched her arms, the joints in them cracking, and wiggled her fingers. She stared at her hands like she had never seen them before. He wondered how long it had been since she last had her arms free.
“You must be starving.” He nudged the tray towards her again encouragingly. “Go ahead. Eat.”
She glanced up at him again wearily like she was making sure he was genuine before she grabbed the tray and dug in. She must’ve been ravenous to devour the unappetizing sludge heaped upon her plate the way she did. He sat there in silence with her, merely watching as she ate with a soft smile on his face.
When she was done, she lifted her head and wiped the crumbs from her mouth with the back of her hand. She stared at him with her round, doe eyes, like she was studying him. “All the others are scared of me,” she tilted her head curiously, “but you don’t seem to be.”
“I don’t see anything to be scared of.” He airily laughed.
Her brow furrowed, and her face contorted into a pensive expression. She retreated back into her shell, hugging her knees to her chest. “Why are you here?”
He laughed again. “I brought you your lunch.”
She shook her head. “That’s not why you’re really here.”
He fought to keep the thin veil of a smile on his face. He felt like she could see right through him again.
“I don’t get it.” Rick got in front of Waller, stopping her in her tracks. “What’s any of this got to do with me?”
She pursed her lips. “I want you to recruit her for Task Force X, see if she is mentally capable enough to be controlled.” She cocked her head. “Can you do that for me, Flag?”
She held out a manila folder to him with the word ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ emblazoned across the front in big, red letters. Her name was on the tab. Rick looked down at it, gritting his teeth. Finally, he relented, snatching it from her hands.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
–
Rick came back the next day. The guards let him pass without issue this time, and she was back in the corner, her arms restrained by the straitjacket again.
She perked up when she saw him, and that made his heart flutter a little in his chest. “Rick,” she breathed, sounding a little relieved as she stared up at him.
He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. “I brought you something.”
He unveiled what he had been hiding behind his back: a pad of paper and a box of crayons. “I figured you must get bored in here with nothing to do. I know it’s not much, but…” It was the most he could smuggle past the metal detectors and scrutinous security.
Her eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas morning. “No, it’s great. Thank you.”
He smiled. “Great. Just don’t tell anyone. This is our little secret, okay?” He held a finger up to his lips and winked at her. She laughed.
She scooted over as he sat down next to her. He set the paper and crayons down in front of her and reached for the buckles on her straitjacket. “Here, let me–”
“Oh, no need.” She smirked at him before fixing her gaze on the box of crayons. Suddenly, the lid on the box lifted all on its own, and a blue crayon sailed through the air before connecting with the pad, creating spirals and lines and shapes across the paper.
“Woah,” Rick gasped underneath his breath.
He leaned back against the wall and watched her work. He noticed the way her brows furrowed and her tongue poked the inside of her cheek as she focused. She now had three different crayons flitting across the paper of their own accord, moving in tandem together to create a pattern. He leaned closer, peeking over her shoulder, and recognized a familiar symbol taking shape.
“Is that Batman?” he asked.
She nodded shyly. “I always admired him growing up.” Her expression soured. “I wanted to be like him, once.”
He raised a brow. “What happened?”
Her lips pouted, and she shrugged. “Some people just aren’t meant to be heroes.”
He wanted to ask what she meant by that, but the look on her face told him otherwise. So instead, he posed, “It must get lonely, being in here all by yourself.”
She shrugged again. “It’s not so bad. I’m used to it. I’ve always been on my own.”
He turned to face her more fully. “What about in Arkham?”
“I was locked up most of the time, and when I wasn’t…” A look of horror crossed her face, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
He tilted his head as he considered her. “You’ve never had anybody visit you?” he asked.
Her countenance turned grim. “There’s no one left to visit.” She shook off the gloom that had overtaken her and dropped her gaze to her drawing. “Besides, I like it here better anyway. I can’t hear the others screaming.”
At that, Rick went tense.
Later, he cornered Waller in her office. “I think it’s time we let her out for meals with the others and have recreational time.”
She barely paid him any mind, shuffling through files on her desk. “Look, Flag, just because you two are playing nice so far doesn’t mean she’s not a menace and a danger to this facility.”
He towered over her, leaning on his hands against her desk. “You brought me on to recruit her for Task Force X,” he reasoned. “How am I supposed to be sure she can work well with others if we never see her in a similar environment?”
Waller stilled at his words, her hands freezing over the paperwork she was sorting. She looked up at him, her lips pressed into a straight line. “Fine. Starting tomorrow, she can join the others for meals and rec, as long as she’s under your supervision.”
He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank you, Waller.”
She pointed a stern finger at him. “But if this goes tits up, as I expect it will, the blame falls on you, understand?”
He clasped his hands behind his back and gave her a firm nod of his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
–
“I’m not so sure about this, Rick.”
She stood behind him as he escorted her to the dining hall, doing her best to hide behind his large frame. They passed guards who shot them strange looks, and other inmates whooped at them from their cells, causing her to shrink even further into the opposing wall.
“This’ll be good for you,” he told her. “You need time out of your cell. You’ll go crazy being cooped up in there all day.”
“I already am,” she mumbled under her breath.
They arrived at the dining hall. There were a good amount of female inmates already there, either sitting at the tables or waiting in line to receive their food. Some were obnoxiously loud and joking with each other. Others kept to themselves, sitting alone with their heads down. He didn’t know which ones he should be more cautious of.
Rick waved her forward. “Go ahead.”
She latched onto his sleeve, and he stiffened at the contact. “Please, Rick. Don’t make me,” she begged him in hushed tones. “I don’t think I’m ready for this. I never got along with the other inmates.”
“Don’t worry about them,” he assured her. “I’ll be right here, making sure nothing happens.”
She stared up at him from beneath her lashes. “Promise?”
His heart skipped a beat as he met her gaze, and he swallowed hard. “Promise,” he whispered.
She let out a heavy sigh before letting go of his sleeve. He nudged her over to the line of inmates waiting for their food, and she threw him a playful glare over her shoulder. He stifled a laugh and took his position over by the wall to observe her.
She slinked over and took her place as last in line. Some of the other inmates noticed her and started to whisper amongst themselves until all eyes in the dining hall were on her. She kept her gaze on the tile beneath her feet and hunched her shoulders, trying to make herself smaller. But it was too late. There was already a steady thrum of excitement buzzing amongst the crowd.
“Hey, look at the fresh meat!” one of them called out, and the room dissolved into jeering and snide remarks. She trembled, and her bottom lip started to wobble. She looked like she was about to cry.
Rick clenched his jaw. It took everything in him not to go storming over there and throw her over his shoulder, carrying her out of the room and never letting her out again.
He kept a close eye on her as she shuffled forward in line. None of the inmates had touched her yet; they seemed to know it would be over for them if they did. And Rick knew he would lose his cool if he saw any of them lay a hand on her.
A few of the other guards supervising told the others to knock it off as she made her way forward in line. She finally got her food and squeaked out a thank you before scurrying away. She sought solace at an empty table in the very furthest corner of the room, a good distance away from everyone else. Her hiding places were nothing if not predictable.
He moved a little closer to where she was. She sat on the very edge of the seat with her legs pressed together, eating as fast as possible. Her eyes shifted from side to side, constantly maintaining surveillance for any approaching threats, like she was ready to flee at the first given opportunity. Every now and then, she’d look at him, and he’d shoot her a reassuring smile back.
Rick was so zeroed in on her, he almost didn’t notice the table of female inmates out of the corner of his eye. They shot her an occasional glance with their beady eyes like they were sizing her up and grin at each other with sharp, yellow teeth. Eventually, they stood up wordlessly, the legs of their chairs scraping against the tiled floor the loudest sound in the world.
Rick’s body went rigid as he watched them stalk over to her. He noticed she, too, froze up as she watched them approach. They surrounded her on all sides, looming over her and leering down at her. They looked so much bigger than her, almost twice her size.
They spoke to her in hushed tones, so quiet he had to strain to hear. He barely caught glances of her in between their solid bodies. She was staring up at them with wide eyes like a rat caught in a trap, gripping the seat with both hands so hard her knuckles were white. Then, she locked eyes with him, silently pleading him for help. Except he wasn’t so sure it was her safety she was pleading for.
She looked like a shaken up bottle of soda about to explode.
He shot across the dining hall and was by her side in a second. The prisoners spread out when he approached, assuming aloof positions. “What’s going on here?” he demanded, his voice gruff.
“Oh, nothing, Colonel,” one of them responded, batting her lashes at him innocently. “We just wanted to see if little mouse here wanted to be friends.” She reached out and twirled a lock of her hair around her finger.
It took everything in Rick not to rip her hand away. “Well, I’m sure she can find better friends than the lot of you.” He cocked his head in the direction of their table. “Go on, back to your seats.”
They grumbled as they retreated back to their table, making faces and crude gestures towards her. “Colonel’s pet,” he heard one of them hissed, although he couldn’t tell which one it was. The rest snickered in response.
When they were far enough away, she closed her eyes and released a breath she had been holding in, her chest hollowing out. She ran her hands through her hair and tried to still her leg that was bouncing up and down incessantly.
Rick leaned down, whispering to her under his breath, “Are you okay?”
She gave a slight nod of her head, imperceptible to anyone else. “They just asked me if I wanted to join their group for protection.”
He bristled. He should be the only one she had to rely on for protection. Not anyone else, and certainly not some stupid gang. “That’s what you got me for, isn’t it?”
She looked up at him and nodded again, her lips curling into the hint of a smile.
“See, now that wasn’t so bad, now was it?”
She pursed her lips. “I guess not.” She shrugged. “Thanks, Rick.”
“No problem,” he almost called her sweetheart, but caught himself before he could. He backed away from her and resumed his post against the wall, smiling to himself. Throughout the rest of the meal, they would lock eyes from time to time, and it was almost like they were communicating with each other silently, entire sentences and conversations going unsaid.
Her appearance caused a commotion that was easily handled the next couple of times, and then the fervor surrounding her presence promptly died out. The nickname ‘little mouse’ quickly caught on with the inmates, and they would shout at her from time to time, but Rick was always a few steps behind her when she would look to him for reassurance. Besides that, she went unbothered.
Except for the day she didn’t.
It was cool enough out that the inmates were allowed to go outside for recreation time. Rick brought her outside, and she squinted as she stepped out into the sun, shielding her eyes with her hands. He wondered when the last time she had seen the light of day was.
He trailed behind her over to the benches on the left side of the little enclosed outdoor space, far away from anyone else, as was typical. She stuck her fingers through the chain link fence and pressed her face against it, gazing out at the stretch of blue sky in the distance. The heat beat down on them still, and Rick was starting to sweat under his bulletproof vest, but she seemed unfazed.
Rick liked to watch her, he had noticed. He liked the way she looked at the world with naive, optimistic, almost childlike enthusiasm, at least when she wasn’t scared half to death. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen something like that in an inmate. Maybe it was because she had been behind bars almost her entire life.
The radio strapped to Rick’s chest crackled to life, and he picked it up. “Calling for backup,” a voice said over the radio. “We have a situation in the dining hall. Anyone who can get here, please come, now.”
He rolled his eyes and hit a button on the radio, responding. “This is Colonel Flag. I’m on my way over.”
She seemed to have noticed his momentary distraction, because when he looked up, she was already staring right at him over her shoulder with concern. “I’ll be right back.” He pointed a finger at her. “Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone.”
It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Couldn’t even if I tried.”
It turned out to be just a disagreement between two of the male inmates that had gotten pretty heated, nothing out of the ordinary. Fights happened in Belle Reve all the time. This one was handled swiftly, and Rick ended up escorting them back to their cells. Whoever had called for backup must’ve been new and inexperienced.
He locked the last inmate in his cell with a huff. He was starting to get antsy about leaving her alone. He didn’t like being away from her for so long. It turned out he had a good reason to be nervous when he heard his name called out.
“Flag!” He turned to see Waller rushing at him, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. He knew the only times he had seen her this frantic were in a real emergency. “What are you doing? Why aren’t you with the asset?”
“What’s wrong?” His heart started beating faster. “Is she okay? Did something happen?”
“Why don’t you go see for yourself?” she snapped at him.
At that, he took off like a shot down the hall, running at full speed. He passed confused guards shooting him odd looks, but he paid them no mind. All he could think about as the soles of his boots slapped against the floor and the air rushed around him was her, and what harm had been done to her. His heart hammered so hard in his chest, he thought it was going to burst through his ribcage.
The closer he got to the scene, the more he saw inmates and even some guards running in the opposite direction like they were running for their lives. They had horrified expressions on their faces, and Rick went a shade or two paler. Whatever could make them look like that in a maximum security prison certainly wasn’t good.
Rick pushed past the guards herding the inmates back inside and burst out into the rec area. He wasn’t prepared for what awaited him.
There was blood, so much blood, dark and slick and oily, coating the pavement in a thick, oozing puddle. He could smell it, the stench so thick in the dry heat that he nearly suffocated on it, the coppery scent stinging his nose. He coughed, blinking away tears. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen so much blood all in one place, and the thought that this could be hers, her blood, made his heart seize in his chest.
But then he saw the bodies: multiple bodies cut up and torn to shreds with bits and pieces of metal sticking out of them. Their eyes were wide, their mouths gaped open, completely motionless, no doubt long gone from this world. He looked amongst their faces for hers and was relieved when he couldn’t find her. However, what he did notice was that they were the same group of girls who had approached her in the dining hall a couple of weeks earlier.
He heard a sniffle, and that was when he looked up to see her. She was sitting in the corner of the destroyed fence, hugging her knees to her chest and burying her face in her legs. It was similar to how he had first found her in her cell, rocking back and forth and humming softly to herself, except this time, her orange uniform was splattered with blood.
Rick made his way forward, stepping over the bodies splayed out in front of her like broken dolls. He cringed when he stepped into the pool of blood, the squelch making him sick to his stomach. It was a massacre.
He looked around; there was no one else there except for a couple of guards. They seemed to be glued to their spots and resisting the urge to heave. They stared at him as he approached her like they wanted to tell him to stop but couldn’t find the courage to do so.
Once he was a couple of feet away from her, he called her name softly. “Go away,” was her automatic response. Her voice was small. “I can’t control it.”
He said her name again and squatted down in front of her. “It’s alright. It’s just me.”
She looked up at him, and he got a good look at the tear tracks cutting through the blood on her face. “It wasn’t my fault,” she blurted. “They came at me. They had a shiv…”
Rick gritted his teeth and glared at a cold, limp arm in his periphery. They had offered her protection. Protection, of course, from themselves. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”
He reached out to her, and she flinched away from him, quivering. He shushed her calmly and reached out for her again. When she didn’t react harshly, he scooped her up in his arms and stood up. She didn’t hesitate to bury her face in his neck, her fingers clinging to the fabric of his jacket.
“Don’t worry,” he placated her as he carried her away. “I’m here now.”
–
“What were you thinking?”
Rick stood on the other side of a door to Belle Reve’s medical unit. He could see her on the other side of the tiny, square window, sitting on a bench with her head hanging low. A nurse sat next to her, stitching up a cut just above her eye. Thankfully, she hadn’t sustained many injuries, just the cut from where a girl had swiped at her with the makeshift shiv and missed before she went down, and it wasn’t very deep. It would hardly leave a scar.
She kept her gaze trained on the floor, completely immobile, almost catatonic. She had the straitjacket back on again.
“Flag, don’t make me ask you again,” Waller hissed next to him, her hands on her hips. “What were you thinking?”
He kept his eyes trained on her as he replied, “I thought I could leave her alone for a few seconds. She was making such good progress.”
He could feel Waller’s eyes burning holes in the side of his face. She let out a sharp exhale through her nose, nostrils flaring. “Well, I have no choice but to revoke her rec time privileges. She’ll go back to being confined in her cell.”
His head snapped to look at her. “What? You can’t do that,” he asserted. “They were trying to kill her. She was just defending herself!”
“Most people don’t slaughter a group of full grown women and almost cause a breakout when they defend themselves,” she shot back. “Now, I have five dead bodies on my hands.”
He swallowed hard, at a loss for words. She continued to stare him down, even when he broke eye contact. “Do you understand, now?” she asked.
He clasped his hands behind his back and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She stared at him a second longer as the silence settled, the air between them fraught with tension. “Do your job and get her under control, Flag.” Waller glanced at her through the window. “I’ll leave you to tell her the bad news.”
She turned on her heel and walked away, the ominous click of her heels fading as she receded.
Rick looked back at the window to see the nurse finishing up. He pulled the door open, and her head shot up as he stepped inside, closing it behind him. The nurse carefully placed a bandage over her sutures and packed all her things away in her first aid bag. He waited as she stood up and scurried away.
When they were alone, he waited a second for her to say something. When she didn’t, he asked, “Are you okay?” His voice was quiet, but in the silence, it was booming.
“You keep asking me that.” She stared through him, her eyes unfocused.
“Because I want to make sure.” He tilted his head. “I’m worried about you.”
“Shouldn’t you be worried about the people I just killed?” she hissed, but then her hardened expression softened into a look of regret.
He squatted down in front of her so they were eye level. “I’m sorry.” He placed a hand on her knee, and she stiffened at the touch. “I should’ve been there.”
She groaned and retracted from him, shirking his hand off of her and tucking her knees under her chin. “How can you blame everyone but me?”
“It wasn’t your fault.” He sat down next to her. “They attacked you, and you got scared. You couldn’t control it.”
She looked up at him almost in awe. “How are you still not scared of me? You saw what I can do.”
He reached up, his fingers ghosting over the bandage above her eye. A tender look a tad too fond crossed his face. “Because I know you won’t hurt me.”
She gazed at him in reverence, leaning into his touch. Then, something changed in her, and she turned away from him. “You’re so nice to me.”
He scooted closer to her, leaning forward. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re too nice.” She gripped the edge of the bench. “When people are nice to me, that usually means they want something from me.” She looked at him suspiciously.
Guilt twisted in his gut. He knew what he was doing was wrong, getting close to her in order to figure out whether she was fit to join Task Force X or not. But it also wasn’t like he didn’t care for her. In fact, if there was anything he was scared of, it was discovering the extent of just how deep his feelings ran for her.
He placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned down so he met her eye. “You can trust me,” he said assuredly.
The corners of her lips quirked into a smirk. “Promise?”
He nodded, forcing a smile on his face. “Promise.”
–
She didn’t react as badly to finding out her privileges had been revoked as Rick thought she would. In fact, she seemed a little relieved to have time all to herself again away from everyone else.
He went back to bringing her her meals. Those were the only times of day where she was allowed out of her straitjacket, and he snuck her in more paper and crayons, eventually adding a box of markers and colored pencils to the collection. She was a relatively good artist, and he enjoyed watching her draw, even in complete silence. The quiet between them was never uncomfortable.
She started to show up in his dreams, and even more worryingly, his nightmares. He would dream about being on a mission gone wrong, as they so often did. He was fighting for his life to keep the bad guys at bay, almost out of bullets, when she would call his name so softly he barely heard her above the gunfire.
He whipped around to see her standing behind him, hunched over and clutching her stomach. Blood seeped in between her fingers, and she peeled her hand away to reveal a gunshot wound in her middle. Her mouth fell open, blood dark like ink spilling out like a fountain. Her eyes rolled back into her head just as she fell over.
He screamed, but his voice got lost in the void. He ran forward to catch her, but it seemed no matter how hard he tried, she was right out of reach. She was swallowed by the black abyss, vanishing out of sight. His vision swam with red and the images of chaos and destruction swirling around him until he was yanked out of his subconscious.
He would jolt awake in bed, sitting up straight. His legs were tangled up in the sheets like he had been tossing and turning all night. He pushed his hair matted to his forehead out of his face, and his chest slick with sweat rose up and down as he recovered his breath.
He blinked, adjusting his vision to his room submerged in darkness. His gaze fell on the drawings stuck to the wall across from his bed that he taped up. She had given them to him as a token of gratitude for giving her something to do. He focused on one in particular, a drawing she had done of both of them together. They stood side by side, hand in hand, smiling. He allowed it to ease his fears.
It was just a nightmare, he reminded himself. Just a nightmare. But he was plagued by the knowledge that it could soon become a reality.
The nightmares came more and more often until he was having them nearly every night. The only thing that seemed to help was visiting her, making sure she was safe in her cell. As much as he hated seeing her locked up like a caged bird, it assured him to know she would still be there when he returned the next day.
He went to her cell, tray in hand. He had gotten used to the echo of his footsteps as he walked down the silent halls. He slowed his step, however, when he noticed that the two guards who were usually outside her cell weren’t there.
He walked over and peeked through the window to see it was empty. His heart thudded in his chest, but he told himself that they had probably just taken her to the bathroom.
His pace quickened as he made his way to where the communal bathrooms were. He stopped outside the door, his brow furrowing when he didn’t see the guards there, either. His pulse started to race when he heard a muffled shout from inside.
In the blink of an eye, he tossed the tray aside, sending food flying everywhere. It clattered to the ground with a metallic clang. He pushed through the door and rushed into the bathroom.
He was met with the sight of her and the two guards in the communal showers. One of them had his arm wrapped around her middle and the other clamped over her mouth, trying to hold her still. The other guard was laughing and trying to pull off her pants. She was doing her best to kick at him with her legs, her arms still restrained by the straitjacket.
At the noise of the door swinging on its hinges behind him, they all looked over at him. His eyes locked with hers, and this time her silent plea for help was for her.
He wasted no time launching into action. He grabbed the guard pulling at her pants and threw him into the wall. His head collided with the tile with a loud crack, and he slumped against it, collapsing in a heap on the floor.
The other guard let go of his hold on her, dropping her to the floor. But before he could get a hit in, Rick punched him square in the nose. He stumbled back, gripping his broken nose as blood dripped through the spaces between his fingers. Rick grabbed him by his jacket, slamming his forehead into his. When he let go, the guard sank to the wet ground, unconscious.
Rick stood over him and kicked him in the ribs. He winded up to do it again when a voice broke him out of his rage.
“Rick!” she cried, her voice hoarse. He looked at her over his shoulder. She was sitting in a puddle of water and staring up at him, the spray from the shower raining down on her. “Stop! He’s not worth it.”
He looked back down at the guard crumpled at his feet, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He may not have been worth it, but he deserved much more than what he had gotten. He looked into her eyes again, and something there made all the fury pumping through his veins dissipate.
He stepped down from the guard. He went over to her and knelt at her side. “Are you okay?” He cupped her face in his hands, scanning over her for any injuries. There wasn’t anything overtly obvious besides the blue and purple bruising around her eye and a split lip. “What happened?”
She trembled under his touch. “They told me it was time for me to shower. But when we got there, they went inside with me, and then they started tugging at my clothes…” She trailed off, her swollen bottom lip trembling. Big, fat tears like pearls slipped out of the corners of her eyes and dripped down her cheeks.
He shushed her and wiped them away with his thumbs. “It’s okay.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. He glared behind her at the guard lying on the floor, his limbs splayed out, and nearly shook with anger once more. “I should kill them.”
“No, you shouldn’t.” She nuzzled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re better than that.”
He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he wasn’t. But he tightened his grip on her, too content with holding her in his arms to let her go, even to kill those assholes who tried to take advantage of her. He sighed, resting his cheek on the top of her head. Now, she’d seen what he was capable of.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair.
She twisted in his grip to look up at him. “For what?”
“For not protecting you.” Even if that wasn’t really what Waller had tasked him with, he still felt responsible for her. “Your well-being is supposed to be my top priority, and I keep failing you.”
Her brows knitted together in confusion. “Rick, if it weren’t for you, who knows what those pricks might’ve done to me?” She shivered in his arms at the thought, and he squeezed her in response. “You saved me.”
She laid her head back down on his chest, closing her eyes as she listened to his heartbeat. They stayed there underneath the still running shower, their hair going damp and their soggy clothes sticking to their bodies. Rick rocked her back and forth and raked a hand through her hair. The only sounds were of the water streaming out of the shower head and her humming a melodic tune that echoed off of the walls.
–
The guards were fired.
Rick was furious when he found out that was all that was happening to them. He wanted to see them locked up in Belle Reve themselves, watched them get chewed up and spit out by the very inmates they had abused their authority of for who knew how many years. That was the real punishment they deserved. But they were threatening to press charges for the damage Rick had done to them, and Waller had told him not to push his luck.
As a result, she no longer trusted anyone else to guard her, so Rick was delegated as her entire security detail. He spent almost every hour of every day with her, bringing her meals, trips back and forth from the bathroom, and patrolling while she was asleep.
The upside was that this meant they got to spend more time together. She didn’t have to wear her straitjacket as often, and it was easier for him to smuggle in art supplies for her. Plus, it was hard to have nightmares when he only got the chance to nap for twenty minutes at a time.
The lights switched off at ten pm, plunging the cell into darkness. He sat just inside the door, watching her sleeping form in the middle of the cell. She was lying on her side, her chest rising and falling in even movements. He struggled to keep his eyes open.
His ears pricked at the sound of a pained groan, and his eyes shot open. He looked over to where she was. She was writhing on the floor, her face scrunched up and contorted in pain. She shook, digging her fingers into the cushioned floor.
“No,” he heard her softly whisper, and she shook her head. “No!” she said again, except this time a little louder.
He got up and ran over to her. He called her name. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He knelt down next to her. She must be having a nightmare. “It’s okay. You’re just having a bad dream.”
He reached out to touch her, and when his hand made contact, a spark ignited, like he had stuck his finger in an outlet. He was thrown backwards as if someone had pushed him and launched through the air. His back slammed into the wall, and he slid down, falling to the ground. Thank God this cell is padded.
She gasped for breath as she shot up wide awake, her chest heaving rapidly. The shiny bruise around her eye had faded to a sallow yellow, and the cut in the middle of her bottom lip was scabbed over and healing. Her head snapped to look over at him, and she scrambled over to him as best she could with a straitjacket on.
“Rick.” She sank to her knees in front of him, leaning over him with concern written all over her face. “Are you okay?”
He groaned as he pushed his hands against the floor to sit up. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.” He winced as he rubbed the back of his head.
His eyes went wide when he realized what he had said. He looked up at her, but if she had noticed, she didn’t show it. She was too preoccupied with fussing over him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I swear. I just…” she trailed off, starting to sniffle.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and stared her straight in the eye. “I know you didn’t mean any harm by it.”
“But I hurt you.” Her bottom lip wobbled. “I promised I would never hurt you.”
He brushed her hair out of her face, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “You didn’t hurt me,” he assured her. “You could never hurt me.”
She stared up at him with stars in her shiny, round eyes. His gaze flickered down to her lips, and she seemed to realize where he was looking. She stilled for a second before her lips parted slightly, and she leaned into his touch.
He pulled away from her, clearing his throat. “Did you dream about the guards?” he asked in a hushed tone.
She blinked rapidly, snapping out of it. She shook her head. “No. I was dreaming about,” she paused, “my parents.”
He swallowed hard. She hadn’t opened up to him about her parents’ death before. Sure, he read about it in her files, but he knew it wasn’t the same. He could tell it was a touchy subject for her.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked, leaning down to catch her eye.
A brief moment of silence ensued, and she broke it when she sucked in a deep breath. “I was back in the car with my parents, in the backseat. There was a storm out, and I got scared. Out of nowhere, the car swerved off the road…” She stopped before a sob could escape, and he could tell she was getting choked up. “Next thing I knew, the front half of the car was completely crushed, but I was safe.” Her eyes welled with tears, and she tried to blink them away. “I killed my parents.”
“The report said they lost control of the car,” he said.
She shook her head. “It was me. I made the car swerve off the road.” She let out a shuddering breath. “The people I care about always get hurt. My parents are dead because of me.”
She burst into tears. Without missing a beat, Rick swept her up in his arms, placing her in his lap like it was second nature to him. He held her close to his chest and carded a hand through her hair. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know what you were doing.”
He felt a wet spot form on his jacket from her tears, but he didn’t mind. He let her cry it out until she was hiccuping and sniffling when she ran out of tears, her eyes dry. “It’s okay,” he cooed. “You’re safe. You’re with me now.”
He rocked her back and forth. She started humming again, that strange melodic tune. “What is that?” he asked.
“A lullaby my mom used to sing to me as a kid to get me to sleep,” she said. “It helps calm me down.”
“It’s very pretty.” She had a beautiful voice. It was almost haunting, listening to her hum the solemn, melancholic tune in the otherwise dead silent room.
“I’m sorry that I’m making you stay here with me,” she murmured. “You must be so tired. I know it’s unfair.”
“I don’t mind,” he told her honestly. “I want you to feel safe.”
She looked up at him, fluttering her lashes damp with tears. “Then… Do you mind holding me until I fall asleep? I’m scared the nightmares will come back.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He knew it was inappropriate, that he should push her off of his lap right now. But she was so warm, and it felt so right to have her in his arms, like she belonged there, and when she looked at him like that…
“Of course,” he whispered.
That caused a lazy smile to spread across her lips, and it made his stomach flip knowing that he put it there. She laid back down on his chest and snuggled closer to him, curling up against him. He froze when she buried her face in the crook of his neck, her breath fanning over his skin.
“You’re so warm,” she mumbled sleepily.
He stayed rigid against her until she let out one long snore. He risked a glance down at her face, and her eyes were closed, a peaceful smile still gracing her lips.
He relaxed against her and leaned back against the wall, tightening his hold on her like he was shielding her from the rest of the world. They were like two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly. He rested his head on top of hers and allowed the sound of her even breathing to lull him to sleep. He no longer tried to fight it when his eyes closed.
They slept soundly for the rest of the night.
–
She looked up at the sound of the door to her cell opening. She smiled when she saw it was Rick closing the door behind him.
“What brings you to my humble abode?” she joked, rolling her eyes.
He strode towards her with both his hands behind his back, a nervous smile on his face. “I have a surprise for you.”
She perked up, sitting up straight. “A surprise for me? Why?”
He knelt down in front of her and revealed what he was holding: sitting in the palms of his large hands was a small cupcake with an unlit candle stuck in it. “Happy birthday,” he said, a wide grin on his face.
Her smile dropped. She looked down at the cupcake and then back up at him, confused. “It’s my birthday?”
“That’s what it said in your file.” His smile started to crack. He could usually read her like an open book, but now he couldn’t tell how she felt, if he had overstepped or not.
“Huh.” She lowered her gaze to the padded floor. “I guess I forgot. It’s been a while since anyone cared to celebrate it.”
His heart wrenched in his chest at how dejected she looked. He couldn’t imagine what it had been like for her to grow up in Arkham Asylum scared and alone with powers she didn’t have control of.
He cleared his throat and held the cupcake out to her. “I made it myself, so if it doesn’t taste good that’s why.” He fidgeted nervously. “I hope you like vanilla.”
She took it and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Is this really for me?”
He laughed slightly. “Who else would it be for?” She plucked the candle out of the cupcake and looked up at him, raising a brow. “I couldn’t light the candle because of fire safety reasons,” he told her.
She shrugged and tossed it over her shoulder. He watched anxiously as she peeled back the wrapper and took a bite out of the cupcake. He raised a brow at her as she chewed. “Do you like it?”
She swallowed before answering, “Of course I do.”
Relief washed over him. “I know it’s not much, but…”
“It’s more than anyone else has ever done for me.” She shied away from him, looking up at him from under her lashes sheepishly. “This is probably sad, but this might be the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
“Well, I’m glad I could make it happen for you,” he said, smiling.
She returned it, her smile growing wider. Suddenly, she flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He went still with shock for a moment before returning the hug, rubbing circles on her back.
“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear, and he shivered. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied.
She pulled away, and just as he was about to let go of her, she leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. It didn’t last longer than a couple seconds, but it was enough to make Rick’s brain shut down as he just sat there staring at her with his jaw dropped like an idiot.
She mistook his lack of response for rejection. “I’m sorry. I know that was wrong of me, and you probably don’t feel the same, but I thought I’d at least give it a try.” She paused when she ran out of air, her cheeks flushing a bright red that somehow made her even more adorable. “God, I’m pathetic––”
He cut her off before she could ramble anymore by connecting their lips again. It was her turn to freeze up before she melted against him. She kissed him shyly, like she was unsure of what she was doing. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of her neck and took control, moving his lips against hers. When he slid his tongue into her mouth, she let out a moan, the sound sending shivers down his spine. She tasted like vanilla.
When he pulled away, he too was out of breath. He opened his eyes and stared down at her. Her lips were shiny and swollen, and she was staring up at him with those big, doe eyes of hers that made him weak in the knees.
“Was that okay?” she squeaked out.
He cupped her face in his hands. “It was more than okay, sweetheart.” He pressed his lips against hers again briefly. Now that he had finally gotten to kiss her, he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to stop. “It was perfect.”
She practically purred in his hands, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. Rick ran a hand through her hair and made a vow to himself that he would never let any harm come to her, let alone put her in a situation where it was even a possibility.
–
“Have you come to a conclusion regarding your assessment of the asset, Colonel Flag?”
Rick stared down at Waller who was sitting at her desk with her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes, so dark they were nearly black, bore into him intensely as she waited for an answer.
He shifted under the weight of her heavy gaze. He stood in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back and his stance wide. His forehead was starting to break into a sweat, and he swallowed hard.
The truth was, there were many prisoners in Belle Reve who he wouldn’t mind seeing gunned down in the midst of a battlefield somewhere faraway, prisoners who had committed horrible atrocities. But she wasn’t one of them –– anything but. She was meek and soft and fragile, despite the immense power she had displayed. She had already been through so much, he couldn’t stand to put her through anything like the sick, twisted coverups Waller had in store for her. He didn’t want to taint her with the violence and brutality, his own little piece of heaven he could keep separate from the rest of the chaotic world.
He didn’t even want to think about what he’d do if she didn’t make it back.
“I have come to the conclusion that the asset is too unstable and unpredictable to join Task Force X,” he stated in a strong, clear, commanding tone.
Waller didn’t move. She continued to stare up at him, arching a brow. “Is that so?”
He wondered why she was asking him again, but he remained firm in his stance. “Yes, ma’am.”
Then, her lips curled into a devious smirk. “Well, I disagree with your assessment.”
Rick drew his brows together. She spun in her chair to face her computer. “You’re right; she is unstable, but while you were gathering intel on her, I discovered a way of making her cooperate and comply with our demands.”
She waved her mouse, and the computer flickered to life. Rick took a step closer, peering over her shoulder at the screen. Pulled up was security footage from her cell a few days earlier of Rick kneeling in front of her on the ground. Her arms were around his neck, a cupcake crushed in her hand…
His stomach plummeted. Oh, no.
Waller clicked play, and he watched himself on the screen lean forward and kiss her. He watched as his fingers threaded in her hair and stared at the blissed out expression on her face when he pulled away.
Rick’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his nostrils flaring. “You didn’t want me to gather intel on her.” He tried to keep his voice from shaking with rage. “You were using me to get to her.”
“Oh, please, Flag.” She clicked pause on the video and spun in her chair to face him, steepling her fingers like some sort of Bond villain. “Don’t act like I’m responsible for you starting an affair with the inmate you’re supposed to be guarding.”
He scoffed. “Do you think I’d care if you fired me?”
She pursed her lips. “Perhaps not,” then, that smirk he knew only meant trouble crossed her face, “but maybe you would care if she were stuck in here all alone without you. Who knows what the next guards will do to her if they get their hands on her…”
Rick could feel his nails digging into his palms from clenching his fists so hard. “You’re despicable,” he spat.
“You can save the insults. I’ve been called worse.” She pointed at her frozen image on the screen, tapping her finger against the glass. “I’m doing what’s necessary, Flag. I’m not going to let you waste her untapped potential just because you have feelings for her.”
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to recruit her for Task Force X, to betray her trust and ship her out to war. But he also didn’t want to leave her in Belle Reve on her own, unprotected. Who knew what could befall her, then? At least, if she joined, he could keep an eye on her, even if she hated him so much she never wanted to speak to him again…
His hands were tied.
Waller watched the different emotions pass across his face as thoughts bounced around in his head. Once he finally looked up at her, resigned, she knew she had won, although there had been no doubt from the beginning. She always did.
“So, do you want to be the one to break the news to her?” She swiveled side to side in her chair, pleased with herself. “Or should I?”
Summary: After narrowly escaping death, Rick decides to show you just how much you mean to him.
Warnings: Smut, 18+, cursing, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex
A/N: So, I was feeling a certain way and decided to write some smut for Rick...
I hope you all enjoy and any feedback is appreciated!
Walking onto the helicopter, your eyes meet the sight of that strong jawline you’ve learned to love so much. You stare at it for a second, appreciating the sharpness of it, before dragging your gaze up to warm, brown eyes. Eyes that are currently staring you down, drilling through you without even trying.
“Flag.” You try to keep your voice steady, but the way he makes you feel, you just can’t help it.
“Y/N.” His voice is all cool and collected, making you jealous that he can manage to seem so calm around you.
Maybe you don’t affect him in the same way he does you.
That thought makes your stomach turn in the worst way and you brush it off, giving Rick a small smile before finding a seat next to Boomer.
“Look who it is!” Boomer yells out, eyes lighting up when he spots you. “This mission just got ten times better.”
“Because some girl just got on? What makes her so special?” Blackguard asks as he eyes you up.
Boomer rolls his eyes. “This girl is stronger than all of us put together, dickhead-”
“I’d choose your next words carefully, Blackguard.”
You drag your gaze up to see Rick facing all of you, his arms reaching up to grip the railing. Hard. The vein in his neck is protruding. You can tell he’s pissed.
The sight of him defending you causes a pool of wetness to form in your underwear, making you shift in your seat. Rick doesn’t notice though, his eyes still shooting daggers at Blackguard.
Control yourself, Y/N. You need to focus.
“Never underestimate a woman, Blackguard. You might just end up with a knife in your neck.”
Your remark has Rick smirking and he shoots you a quick wink before walking back up towards the pilot.
Next to you, Boomer is laughing loudly, clutching his stomach with his hand. “You better be a quick learner, mate. Or else, it looks like you’re gonna end up dead!”
Blackguard scoffs and turns to talk to TDK, leaving you and Boomer alone.
Boomer grins at you. “I’d say you scared him off.”
“Let’s hope,” you sigh out, leaning your head back against the wall. You close your eyes, wanting at least a few minutes of peace before the utter chaos that’s bound to happen.
“Get ready! We drop in five!”
And, there goes your peace.
Groaning, you slowly get up to grab your duffel bag, rummaging through for your weapons.
“Sorry for disturbing your rest, sweetheart.”
Rick’s voice fans across the back of your neck and you clench your thighs in response.
“Can’t disturb what didn’t even happen.”
He chuckles at that, his hand reaching out to give your waist a small squeeze. “I’ll make sure you get taken care of later.”
And with that, he walks away, leaving you to your scrambled mind as you frantically try to piece together what he means by that.
You can only hope it’s good.
---
You wake to the sound of people chatting nearby. Slowly opening your eyes, you squint against the intrusion of bright sunlight, using your hand as a visor.
Looking down, you see the bloody bandages coating your body and all the events of the previous night smack you in the face.
Blackguard selling you out. You and Rick running for cover. Most of your team getting killed. Boomer.
“Boomer.”
Tears gather in your eyes, but you will them away. You’ll find time to mourn him later. Right now, you need to find out where the hell you are. Can’t mourn someone if you’re dead yourself.
As you’re standing up, the door to your room bursts open, heavy footsteps stomping inside. You whip around to see Rick, his large demeanor taking up the entirety of the doorway.
“You’re alive.” You were worried he might have ended up like the others.
“Course I am, sweetheart. Couldn’t leave my favorite person behind, now could I?”
The way he’s looking at you with so much need, passion, and relief.
Is he relieved to see you awake and alive?
“Was worried that I’d lose you out there.”
He’s right in front of you now, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “I can’t handle the idea of losing you.”
Need courses through you at the idea that the man in front of you was scared of your death. The man you thought was afraid of nothing has a weakness. And it’s you.
You rest your hand against his. “You can’t lose me that easily.”
He takes one look down your body and back up again. “I better fucking not.”
He slams his mouth against yours then, the kiss nothing but desperation and an unspoken confession of love.
“We only have about ten minutes. You think I can get you to cum by then?”
You moan into his mouth, unable to speak your thoughts aloud. You just desperately want him inside you.
He guides you backwards until your back slams into the nearest wall, his one hand reaching out to wrap around your throat. His fingers press down, adding the slightest bit of pressure.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”
Your cunt is dripping at this point, convulsing around nothing but air.
“Yes,” you whisper. “I’ll cum.”
“I know you will,” he grunts against your neck as he starts to suck on your skin. His hand slides down your body until it reaches your pants, undoing the button before curling his fingers into your belt loops and yanking them down your legs.
As the cold air hits your clothed center, you gasp. “Please.”
He bites down on your collarbone as his pointer finger skims between your folds. “Please what, sweetheart?”
“Please just fuck me.”
A second later, two of his fingers are deep inside you and you moan out, throwing your head back against the wall.
“Like this?” Rick teases, slowly sliding his fingers out before shoving them back in. You’re so wet, his long fingers glide with ease, curling up into that special spot.
You want to slap the smirk off his face, but as his fingers start to pump faster into you, you find yourself unable to do anything but moan.
He presses into you and you can feel his thick length against your stomach. “Or did you want something else?”
Instead of answering, you hurriedly undo his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down so they fall around his ankles. Your hand wraps around his dick, pumping him slowly.
“Fuck,” he curses as you wipe up his precum with your thumb. He pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you feeling empty. That feeling doesn’t last long though as the tip of his dick pushes through your folds. “Ready for me?”
“Yes.” You jump up, wrapping your legs around his waist, pressing your feet into his lower back to push him inside you.
You both moan in sync as his dick easily slides in, filling you up completely. The feeling of him stretching you out is overwhelming and you have to close your eyes.
Rick leans in for another kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth as his hips pick up speed, thrusting into you rapidly.
“So fucking tight,” he grunts into your mouth, his hand gripping your waist tightly. “You’re taking me so well.”
You can feel your orgasm building, your pussy throbbing around his dick.
As his thrusts start to get sloppy, you feel his teeth nip at your ear. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum with me.”
The tip of his dick hits that sweet spot again and your orgasm hits you, your walls squeezing Rick’s length as his cum shoots into you.
The both of you moan, your mouths pressed together as your names roll off each other’s tongue.
Rick rests his forehead against yours as he goes soft inside you. You keep your legs wrapped around him, knowing they’ll be too weak for you to stand.
“I’m gonna do everything to make sure we get out of this alive. I’ve got big plans for you and I after this.”
Your heart leaps at his confession, wanting nothing more than to live happily with him.
“You’ve got my back, I’ve got yours.”
As he places a soft kiss against your cheek, you feel him smile. “Always, sweetheart.”
RBF Square Filled: Alpha!Rick
Pairing: Alpha!Rick Flag x F!Reader
Words: 9.8k
Summary: You’re on a mission with the squad when your suppressants stop working. Alpha!Rick Flag to the rescue!
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, Angst, Swearing, descriptions of pain, Guns, Canon-Typical Violence (so it's pretty extreme at moments), brief noncon elements, implied smut, mutual pining, forbidden love, hurt/ comfort, power dynamics since Reader is a prisoner on the squad, no smut but brief mentions of Reader getting off in their tent to thots about Rick, use of suppressants, use of syringe to administer meds, the briefest mention of Reader getting creampied by Rick, mild spoilers for TSS 2021 in regards to Waller
A/N: Huge thanks to @green-socks for beta’ing this fic! :D Thank you so much Sam for all your help and support! ^_^ 💖
Also, I’m unsure when/ if there will be an additional chapter of smut for this specific fic but I have more Alpha!Rick prompts on my bingo card that will definitely be smutty!!!
Rating: Explicit. All my blogs and works are 18+ only regardless of rating. Minors do not interact!
Created for: @rickflagbingo
|=
It feels like you're walking through a dream. Arriving at your designated sections slower than your typical pace yet before you even realize. There's a heavy curtain hanging over your awareness. A thick haze over your thoughts- one that you thought would lift once you cleared the tree line. Stepped out into the pulse of violence as the team launched their attack but you can't seem to meet the heart pounding slam of it like your teammates. Always one pace, one jerk of the bolt of your gun behind the rest.
Rick notices it first. Probably because it's his job- his mission and you're his responsibility.
Something in that last thought is distracting.
His his his his.
But you shove it down as mercilessly as you down your enemies until Rick's voice cracks over the comms.
"Status report."
You're the last to reply, uncertainty entering your usually sure voice.
"Almost at quadrant seven," you say, the sound of Boomerang's rifle cracking behind you, more distracting than it should be. There's a tingle up your spine that has nothing to do with your usual adrenaline- a restless feeling over your skin like you're aware of Boomerang's movements at your back for more than the mission. There's a long pause from Rick before he replies and you curse yourself for not reaching your assigned quadrant yet- knowing you're holding up Boomerang reaching his too.
"Alright, just do your best like I know you can," Rick says and you can't help the chirp that escapes you- keening at the sliver of praise that probably isn't directed at you at all- Rick's always encouraging the whole team. But you hoard the praise regardless. Feel it fly through your blood like a runner's high. Let it bolster your efforts to perform well which fails maybe even harder than before.
What came as easily as breathing to you any other day now feels like a chore- hand shaking around the gun in your grip. Every slight action requires extra attention. What had been thoughtless muscle memory becomes horribly forced.
Trigger's voice lilts over the comms- smooth and amused, "Some of us aren't pulling their weight," he says and you want to scream because you know the message is meant for you. Instead you bite back the irritation, renewed motivation to reach your quadrant in record time strikes through you like lightning.
You don't need to give Trigger yet another reason to look down on you. No one on the team knows you're an Omega but sometimes the way Trigger looks at you makes you think he might have suspicions. In any case he has lecherous intentions and your skin crawls at the thought of his snake eyes on you this morning when you'd been warming up your rationpak- like you were a meal he intended to choke down and swallow whole.
His unsettling attention broke when Rick appeared just before you'd dove into your tent so Trigger wouldn't see the shiver his attention had created. Scarfed down your breakfast and then an extra dose of your suppressants- just in case. Just to be on the safe side out here. You knew Rick would keep the pace of the mission on time and have you back in the relative safety of Waller's prison before you run out of meds. Next time you might even dare to ask Waller for extra. Being around this many Alpha's might be throwing you off.
When the first shot misses you don't think anything of it. Just take a tight breath and lift your gun from where it's tilted down slightly- let off another shot and the red mist when it strikes your enemy is all you need to keep moving. Within seconds you're posted up behind the crates- your dedicated position in this coordinated attack and it's only when you miss the next two shots that a creeping nag at the back of your mind begins to worm it's way into your awareness.
"Getting rusty, kid," Boomerang quips over the comms, his rough twang of an accent in the taunt making you bristle while something in your gut tugs hot and suddenly your hands are shaking as realization dawns.
fuck fuck fuck fuck
it can't be
not here
Dread dumps ice down your spine even as you become aware that your body is hot- burning- feverish with sweat and heat that's for more than your previous hours running through the jungle. You can't pass off your short fuse and snappy attitude this morning on the humidity any longer. Not when Boomerang is speaking through the comms once more- this time calling out your lack of reply- and there's a swirl of something in your gut. A fluttering that you try to ignore- to not associate with Boomerang's face and form- because there was a time when you'd fuck an Alpha like him and you're trying to put that part of your past far behind you. Where Waller won't use it against you.
"What? Got no smart retort for me? You were so quick to give me shit about breaking camp this morning and now nothing?" Boomerang says, amusement lacing his tone.
"Fuck you," you grit out, voice wavering in a way that you hope he doesn't notice.
"There she is," Boomerang offers. "My spicy little Omega," he continues and you seethe even as something in the back of your mind latches onto the phrase. A path you're helpless to follow even as you try to focus on the foray into violence that your team is executing in front of you.
you're supposed to provide cover not imagine what it'd be like to be someone's Omega.
provide. cover, you grit out, releasing another few shoots that only spray the cement behind your enemies heads.
You lift your gun to try again and when there's only a breathtakingly empty click beneath your finger you duck behind the crate. Nerves skittering over the realization that you forgot to reload- trembling hands sliding over your ammunition and gun as you try to complete the task even as your shoulder hisses with pain. You hadn't dropped fast enough and the volley of fire upon your crates indicates that your enemies have decided you're the weak spot of the team. And they're not wrong, you realize with a mix of heart wrenching fear and rage, because you've dropped your gun twice now before the magazine slides into place with a satisfying click.
Scrambling to crouch and return fire, you ignore the red wetness that courses down your arm for the task that's been set out for you. Straining your ears- you wait for a break in the crack of bullets that cover your position when the pain starts. A cresting wave of a cramp that starts at your navel and works it's way down between your legs. With a furious roar you lift and point your gun over the edge of the crate, the weapon waving in your hands before you even get a sightline on your target.
"FOR FUCKS SAKE OMEGA LOOK WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING AIMING THAT THING!" Boomerang's voice cracks over the comms and guilt slams through you as hard as the command he's driven into his words. You knew he'd be traversing your section to get to his. You knew that this morning before this feral, basal need began infecting your brain. Mind clouded- dragged through sludge to just arrive at the fact that you're now a threat to your team.
You freeze- watching Boomerang glare at you from behind his own set of crates in front of you- watching as his anger flickers with concern when you don't move. Your gun gone silent in your grip, your body frozen beneath his regard- waiting out in the open like an idiot.
Boomerang's kind enough to say the order off the comms.
"Get down! Fuck!" Boomerang growls at you, voice booming across the distance separating you- the last curse snarled as he realizes the state that you're in when your body drops to the dirt- to the depths of your agony as you realize he's unhappy with you. And while he's not your Alpha- you curse the way you respond as though he is.
Fuck, you're in it now, you realize- panic filling you alongside a deep need that you hadn't felt in years. Not since you'd been locked up and assigned to Task Force X- Waller's suppressants had been effective to this point. But now it's like you'd never even heard of them. Had never laid eyes on the pills or ever even known the concept of suppressants.
There's a scrambling beside you and Boomerang's face filters into your view- his brows furrowed in concern- in restraint you realize as he tugs his bandana from his neck and over the lower half of his face in an attempt to block your scent.
"Christ- fuck you're really- I was only joking- I didn't know-," Boomerang says, gaze raking over your form- curled in on yourself and tears streaming from your eyes.
"We gotta tell Flag," Boomerang says- no argument in his tone even as something sympathetic pours from his eyes when you shake your head and try to sit up. Boomerang shoves you back down- yanks his hand away from you like you've burned him when you make a noise that you're both trying to ignore when you give in to his touch. His focus is drawn between his return fire on the enemies and the way you're biting your bottom lip bloody as you try to restrain the cries of need that threaten to burst from you.
"Sorry, sweetheart," Boomerang says as he stands and moves away- one hand providing cover for himself and the other wrapped around his comm.
"I can't- your scent- I can't think," he says as you try to register the first apology he's ever directed at you even with the fact that he's leaving you. Alone. Vulnerable. Fear like you've never known scrabbles through you and Boomerang hates to use an Alpha command but you have to be safe until Rick gets here.
"Stay down," Boomerang orders, a remnant of relief coursing through him when you listen even as guilt fills him as his footsteps separate you. If he doesn't keep pushing on to his quadrant then your odds of making it out of here alive are slim. Plus Rick has the emergency suppressants. No use having two useless team members.
"Flag, sector seven is weakened," Boomerang says through the comms before his frame disappears from your line of sight.
"What? Status report, Boomerang," Rick's voice filters through the comm- surprise lilting his voice even as a steady pattern of gunshots echo behind it. You can see him in your mind's eye- calm and composed even in the center of a storm. The best sort of Alpha there is- your hindbrain helpfully supplies.
"Is someone down?" Rick shouts just to be heard over his gun.
Boomerang huffs over the comm and you want to sink into the ground beneath you. Disappear and not have to hear the rest of this conversation. Shame threatens to eat you alive and put you out of your misery if one of the enemies doesn't come over and do it for you.
"Taste the air, Flag," Boomerang supplies- cryptic in a way that he never is and your mind supplies the reason- the series of red flags that you've kept track of this entire mission until now. The answer arrives with a laugh over the comms- a dark chuckle that turns your blood to ice.
"Someone's in heat," Trigger's voice titters over the comms behind his laugh- insidious and dripping with something you don't want to name. Flag's response is immediate.
"Plan O in effect immediately. If anyone other than seven deviates from their position I will execute on sight."
There's a smidgen of relief that runs through you at Rick's words- warms you- until you realize that Flag's position is damn near exact opposite to yours and Trigger's lies closer.
fuck fuck fuck
You have to follow Boomerang. He won't like it but at least he's safe.
Rolling to sit up you nearly wretch when the pain from your gut strikes down your legs but you push forward, stumbling over the ground, gun heavy in your hand as you try to maintain cover. It's easier only for the fact that Boomerang appears to have adopted a take no prisoners attitude to his section- for your sake you realize with a gratefulness that would be there even without your hindbrain evaluating his Alpha qualities.
Rick's voice appears over the comms, gritted with threat.
"Trigger you better be in the goddamn building," It's a warning that makes you relieved and worried at the same time. Flag's moving faster than you anticipated- if he's at Trigger’s section then he's nearly at yours. But if Trigger is missing from his then there's a chance-
You reach the safety of the trunk of a thick tree- scooting yourself up small behind it as you search the path you've just come from for Trigger. It's empty. You should keep going until you reach Boomerang but your breathing has picked up and the action of moving has nearly robbed you of all your typical strength. Scrunching yourself up tight, you try to even your breaths and remain as quiet as possible.
Rick will be here soon. He'll know what to do.
Footsteps approach and you're struck with an acrid scent that makes you want to choke.
That's not Rick.
Rick smells like pine and smoke and something that's just him. He's the best smelling Alpha you've ever come across- even with you being on suppressants.
The ugly scent becomes thicker and your hand clenches tighter around your gun.
"Ohh, silly Omega," Trigger’s voice is so close.
"Didn't Waller tell you about my file?" he taunts, voice light and dangerous.
"I love it when they try to hide from me," and suddenly there's fingers at the back of your neck, pressing so hard it hurts and you can't do anything as you're hauled upright- gun falling out of your grip while you scramble at the hand that appears at your throat.
Trigger sneers into you as you fight his hold, thrusts his face close to yours and inhales deeply- loudly and lewdly.
"Aren't you a treat? It's almost like Waller placed you on this mission just for me," Trigger says, smiling wide as you glare back in defiance.
"Fuck you," you spit at him and Trigger flinches only minutely- a false façade of control settling over his features.
"Oh, I intend to. Now be a good little Omega-," Trigger sneers, hand dropping from the back of your neck to your inner thigh, fingers digging cruelly into the flesh there when he wrenches it away from your other leg as he wedges his own between. The Alpha command is clear in his voice when he says, "and behave for me." Dark laughter falling around you as your body grows slack in his grip.
As much as your hindbrain submits- the rest of you doesn't.
You're spitting vitriol at Trigger as his mouth bends to your neck, his hand loosening its grip there to reveal your marking glands when you feel his entire body still.
"You're disgusting," you continue, grateful that your words have halted his progress. "Shittiest excuse for an Alpha that I've ever seen," you continue before Trigger huffs into your throat and releases you.
Oh shit, you think as you drop to the dirt, proud of yourself for half a second before Trigger's gaze cuts to the side and he bares his teeth for entirely different reasons. It's only then that you realize he's favoring one leg- how you missed the sound of the gunshot amazes you except for knowing how loud your fear had been at Trigger attempting to claim you.
Following the bastard's eyes, you see Rick standing to the side and your breath catches at the sight of him- bristling with rage at Trigger. Your next inhale is still stained with the scent of Trigger but there's something stronger in the air that has your jaw dropping to collect more of it.
Rick's scent.
Hot with the bite of his aggression at the scene before him- gun cocked at Trigger's stupid fucking head.
"I warned you," Rick says.
"Then what are you waiting for?" Trigger snarls before his lips quirk in amusement when Rick's hand holding the gun dips lower, Rick's gaze cutting to yours for the briefest of moments. Concern rampant behind his brown eyes as he takes in your state.
Trigger takes advantage of the lapse in Rick's concentration- moves to launch forward but you're quicker. Leg snapping out to meet his injured one and you feel the flesh and bone crack beneath your boot and Trigger screams when he drops. A mix of outrage and surprise and pain that has him turning back towards you in fury, hands clawing in the dirt to reach you.
Rick's on him before you can blink- barrel of his rifle pressed to the side of Trigger's jaw before he fires once- then again only higher- and Trigger is nothing but a wet puddle soaking the dirt. You'd flinch at the violence Flag has used against Trigger if you could dreg up a modicum of sympathy for the asshole but you can't. Not when the phantom of Trigger's hands still presses into your skin- and so you focus on Rick instead.
He's already gathering you up in his arms and running. Long legs eating up the ground beneath you as he moves towards Boomerang’s section.
The scent of Rick is overwhelming to you and your already fried nerves. It's like electricity runs over your skin wherever he touches you. The contact of him against you only drives your need higher and you can't help your cry when he sets you down and his hands leave your body.
"I know, sweetheart," Rick says, deep voice lowered to soothe as he rifles through the utility pouch strapped to one of his thick thighs. Rick kneels beside you- gaze trained somewhere over you and you hear someone moving near your head before Rick's looking at you again. Brown eyes concerned beneath his furrowed brow. "I know it hurts, honey. Hold on."
"Shit, Flag," Boomerang’s voice shouts over you and you flinch beneath the angry Alpha's tone. "Fucking take care of her before we all cark it," Boomerang orders before the sharp sound of gunfire erupts somewhere just outside your awareness.
Rick ducks down- face swimming closer in your narrowed vision and you keen at the proximity.
Fuck, he smells so good. Like cozy nights around the campfire. Warm and safe and amazing.
There's a rolling chuckle above you and you sigh- soft and pleased.
You made your Alpha laugh.
A sweet pleasure bleeds into the pain that wracks you- a nice reprieve from the moments you've been gasping through. Your vision widens- takes in most of Rick's broad frame- enough to see his hands uncapping a syringe.
"Lift your shirt, honey," Rick orders and your hands obey with eagerness- pull the hem of your shirt to your ribs before one of his hands wraps firmly around your wrist.
"That's enough," he says, a quirk of a smile at his lips which you note are held parted- his chest rising and falling in careful restraint as he breathes you in.
The large hand just beneath yours disappears only to pull at the waistband of your tac pants. It's embarrassing how quickly you lift your hips in response as Rick tugs down the garment but he only yanks it down enough to reveal your hips.
"Take a deep breath, darlin'," Rick orders and you nod loosely, just grateful to have his touch on you until it bites at your lower stomach where his warm hand is spread. It's suddenly sharp and stinging just inside your hip and you flail under his hold.
"Sorry, sweetheart," Rick says, voice strained with something you suddenly can't name anymore as the curtain in front of your awareness thins. Slides to nothing- like it had never been there in the first place. Rick withdraws the syringe and cracks it in his fist, bending the sharp on his boot and tossing it into the foliage behind him while his other hand straightens your clothing.
"Is it working?" Rick asks- face concerned as he's searching yours before you scoot to sit up on the crate that Boomerang crouches behind.
It's all you can do to nod- a tiredness pulling at what feels like your bones.
"Smells like it," Boomerang supplies in between gunfire and you manage to mutter a soft fuck you at him even as you rub at your throat in embarrassment.
Rick's gaze cuts to Boomerang's back in disapproval before it settles back on you- relief in his features until his gaze falls to your shoulder.
Rick startles. Stares at the injury like he's surprised he didn't notice it earlier. He sucks in a breath before he swallows hard, hands diving back into the pouch at his leg to pull out more medical supplies. When his hands reach forward to collect your shoulder you note there's no maddening need to throw yourself into his grasp. But Rick's hands shake as he injects the blood clotting cream into the wound and you clamp your hand over your throat even harder, hoping to dampen some of your scent from before he'd treated your heat. Worried that you've weakened the team- compromised the mission and it will get back to Waller.
"Did they tell you?" Boomerang's voice cuts back to the two of you and Rick lifts his head from where he's bandaging your shoulder.
"Tell me what?" Rick says, jaw clenched when Boomerang meets his gaze and Boomerang catches his meaning with a shrug of his shoulders before his attention falls to you.
"Sorry, sweetheart. Wouldn't have made those jokes if I’d known," Boomerang says and Rick's warning growl draws both your attention.
"Known what?" Rick almost roars, challenge clear in his narrowed eyes and Boomerang shrugs his shoulders again.
"Nothing," Boomerang replies and then he's back shooting. You consider his apology before his question weighs heavier in your mind.
"Did they?" you turn to Rick, his focus on arming himself and you once more.
He thrusts a gun into your hand and meets your eyes for a long moment before he shakes his head.
"No- but I figured there had to be someone. They don't usually add the emergency suppressants to my mission kits. Not unless-," Rick says, suddenly avoiding your eyes, his teeth gritted like he's said too much.
"Unless what?" you ask.
"Unless you're assigned," he says with a sigh, an apologetic look. Like he pities you.
A new ugly flame of fury ignites in you- alongside the one that burns at the betrayal of your body- you're upset at Waller.
Did she have to make it so fucking obvious?
Rick seems to sense your rage because he sighs in sympathy but you're already scrambling to crouch. Intent to drive out any doubt of your abilities and skills through sheer force. Boomerang adjusts himself beside you, let's you slide into the opening at his side with a look back at Rick that you don't care to decipher.
You don't miss the next shot. Or the next hundred.
|=
The missions bleed into each other and you hardly notice that you're assigned to more except for the fact that you have to watch Waller's smirk every time she passes the med kit to Rick before the team disembarks and her gaze slides to you like she's apologizing for your sake.
You have nothing to be sorry for, you seethe.
Not when it was her own damn suppressants that failed you.
You're three times over your usual dose and some days there's a nagging sense in the back of your mind telling you that soon even that won't be enough. But Waller keeps you riding the edge of your heats like setting you on the edge of a knife- waiting for you to fall and fuck up. One less Omega for her to deal with, you realize with bitterness and fear alike. Wondering when you'll stop being a walking prophecy and instead be a dead one. Another failure of Task Force X- of your biology.
The only ones sympathetic to your plight are ironically your teammates. More empathy in a drop of their blood than Waller's entire being. They know what it means for you to get out. The constant need to prove yourself useful so that you won't be removed from the mission roster. Lose any chance of getting out from beneath Waller's thumb.
Harley helps you keep an eye out for any more Triggers of the world in your midst. Identifies the red flags sometimes before you even see them. Navigates the odd social hierarchy of the prison and the missions with her arm threaded through yours and a look on her face that dares anyone to fuck around and find out.
Boomerang slips you extra rations and doesn't tease you as much as before. Sometimes you think you hear a smidge of respect and awe in his tone when he watches you work- suspect that he's never seen an Omega of your build and bravado. A soft regard in his usual rough demeanor that says he's impressed that you're enough to compete with the best Alphas.
You dump your sweat and blood- and when no one's looking- your tears into the missions like never before. Unwilling to give Waller another millimeter of justification to pull you from the roster.
You vow to not show weakness in front of Flag. It's hard when he cements himself to your side- refuses to leave you alone during active combat. Towers at your back- oozing menace and protection at your enemies to the point of distraction. To the point that one day when you all return to camp- sweaty and exhausted and swaying on your feet- you snap.
Growl when his hand wraps around your elbow- gently pulls you back to center when you sway a little too far off your balance as you wait in line for the showers. The need for sleep nearing hauling you to your knees.
Rick's hand disappears from you faster than a blink and he murmurs an apology through the reflexive growl in his own chest and you hate that you know it's for both of his actions.
You know he's not angry with you- just sitting high on the adrenaline of the last few days- his hackles raised to challenge any perceived threat to his position as team leader. Rick's not reactive like that- at least never with you. It's in the apology he offers as soon as the first vibrations start in his chest, shaking the air between you.
"Sorry- I just didn't want you to fall," he supplies- so soft and sweet that you almost tear up, instead turning your head from where you'd been glaring at him to stare at the shower door where Boomerang idles behind it. On purpose- you think- with the way his voice lifts on a song that sounds far too pleased for the simple luxury of warm water.
"I'm fine," you retort, ignoring Rick's huff behind you, the shuffle of his feet on the gravel as he tries not to argue with that obviously false statement. You know that you're a liability to this team but you can't help but be annoyed at how much he cares.
"I don't need your pity," you throw out, careless in a way that's dangerous in the presence of some Alphas- arms folded tightly over your chest and you stiffen when you hear the hitch of breath behind you. Shrink as you close your eyes and wait for the impending storm of Alpha rage to descend on you.
"Is that what you think? Is that why you're running yourself ragged?" Rick's voice lifts softly behind you and your shoulders drop a fraction.
"Think that you have something to prove to me, darlin'?" he continues, voice heavy with a sigh.
When you only return silence Rick pulls himself upright from where he slouches on the pillar, walks around to your front- hand finding your chin and lifting it so you meet his eyes.
Rick's jaw is set- teeth clenched not in anger but in earnest as his large brown eyes search yours.
"Does this feel like pity?" Rick asks, eyebrows quirking- imploring you to sense the energy radiating from him. The heady scent of him that concentrates just beyond his hand on your chin. Your lips part- trying to draw in as much of his scent from his wrist where it hovers between you before you shake your head because no- It's not pity. It's never been pity. This is potent Alpha protectiveness. Your mind short circuits for a brief moment- wonders what it would feel like if Rick was your Alpha. How the protectiveness would shift. The potent quality of it now already nearly knocks you off your feet- but what if it was more?
"Good," Rick says, hand dropping from your face before he strides out of view. Leaving you to stare at the empty spot that was him and the shower door beyond as Boomerang appears- flashes you a devilish smirk before he holds the door open for you in a fashion that is far too chivalrous for his usual self.
You hear Rick's huff and Boomerang's amused chuckle when you step inside the room.
That night instead of crying in your tent you cum hard around your fingers- imagining Rick's hand instead of your own. What it would be like to be his- an idea you haven't dared entertain since the embarrassing mission where you're pretty sure you'd voiced that thought out loud.
|=
From that day on you pay closer attention to how Rick treats you.
Suddenly it makes sense how quickly Rick had appeared on the day of that mission with Trigger. Rick knew he needed to get to you. Maybe even before Boomerang had alerted him over the comms. Rick must have known from the second or third mission where you were assigned to his team that you were an Omega. He's a smart man- and Waller hadn't been subtle.
And yet he'd never treated you differently. Never hesitated to ask your opinion on strategy- relied on you for some of the most skilled tasks during missions. Trusted you to brew the team coffee every morning and not burn it- or poison it- like some had according to him.
Rick trusted you.
Hadn't started coddling you until recently.
You're staked out on a hill, monitoring the compound below you with Rick beside you when you broach the topic.
"You've always let me do a recce on my own," you say, trying to keep your voice casual even as Rick stiffens beside you, caught off guard by your clear challenge of his team assignments.
"Afraid I'm gonna go rogue?" you tease, biting your cheek when you realize the alternate to your scenario- the one that could be you descending back into the uselessness of your hindbrain. Rick seems to gather where your mind has drifted because he lowers the binocs and stares at you until you lift your gaze to his. Like what he has to say is important and he needs you to know it.
"What happened back there wasn't an accident,” Rick says, voice hardened- brown eyes set on you with a fierceness that makes you squirm.
Did he think you'd activated your heat on purpose?
You scramble to address the accusation.
"You think I did that on purpose?" you ask, voice edged with anger. You thought he trusted you but what if all this was Waller's protocol- to ensure you didn't weaken the team under the guise of an accident. Rick's eyes widen at your response- the tight set of your jaw and then he's the one scrambling.
"Shit, no darlin'- that's not what I meant-," Rick says, eager to dispel the notion, taking a deep steadying breath before he continues. Rick clicks off his comm and nods at you to do the same of yours. When the line empties Rick speaks.
"I think Waller replaced your suppressants with a slow acting activator," Rick tells you, brows drawn down and mouth a tight frown when he finishes. Suddenly you realize he's waiting for your input.
"I took an extra dose that morning because Trigger was looking at me like I was a meal. I thought it would help-" you explain and Rick nods.
"I know," he gruffs.
"What?"
"I can hear the pills in your bag and when you take them in your tent," Rick supplies and suddenly you're burning inside- wondering what else his super serum Alpha hearing is capable of picking up.
Fuck, had you moaned his name last night when you came?
Nothing in Rick's features indicates anything of the sort and you breathe a short sigh of relief until he speaks.
"I can smell you," Rick says, gaze held carefully away from you when he says it.
"I- w-what-?" you stutter, wondering if pitching yourself down the cliff and into your enemies grasp would be a quicker death than the one you're about to die of. Embarrassment chokes off your words.
"Your scent-" he grits out, takes a deep breath- through his mouth you note- tasting the air that surrounds the two of you like he's trying to gather it, memorize it. Like you might never sign onto his missions again after this conversation.
"It's always been sweet. Ever since we first met," Rick admits, eyes flicking to yours briefly.
"I don't think she gave you enhancers then. Not until we started working together," he reports and you're inclined to agree. Rick's scent has always been strongest on missions. You'd always assumed it was the close quarters- the sweat and grime of your shared work. The lack of bars and glass that typically keeps you apart.
"But it was so strong. Even then," Rick admits, heaves a nervous breath as he shares this intimate awareness of you.
"Yours was too," you quickly chirp, eager to soothe his anxieties and Rick gives a soft smile- shorter than you wanted but it's enough to make you swell with pride.
"It's not just the strength… you smell good," he says, nearly snarling the final word and the deep gravel of his tone drags over you somewhere in your gut and then lower.
"Christ, even with the suppressants I knew you were the best smelling Omega I'd ever known," Rick says. "So when it started concentrating on the missions I knew something was off. Can see how hard you try to hide yourself."
"And I didn't know if you and Harley- or Boomer- if you had something going on that could have been causing it-" he tells you.
"They're my friends," you tell Rick. "They're on suppressants too. They wouldn't have been able to tell if I was an Omega. Waller medicates the Alphas too."
"I figured." Rick nods.
"But an activator would overpower even that," you say, realization dawning.
"That's how I knew," Rick says and you nod in agreement.
"But why-" you ask and Rick smiles but you hate it- how it doesn't reach his eyes- how it's full of sarcasm- lips pulled tight over his bared teeth.
"What better way to take out a Task Force X team than throwing a heated Omega into their midst?" he supplies- the words dry in his mouth when he continues, "Just a bunch of Alphas ripping each other apart," he says and you shudder.
"Trigger was there to act as his namesake I think. Someone to kick off the claim ruts," Rick whispers, but you don't miss the way his voice is hardened with steel, eyes drawn back and flaring with the muzzle flash of his rifle from that day.
"You think he and Waller-" you ask, horror filling your entire being. Rick's nostrils flare as he huffs, eyes cutting away from you as his fists clench before his head drops. A startling display of submission as anger rolls through his frame.
"I hesitated-" Rick chokes out into the dirt and you don't know what he means until he continues.
"When I saw him- I shot him in the leg without a thought just to get his fucking hands off you and then I-" Rick heaves a growl that sounds pained- anguished. Your hand is on his shoulder in an instant- squeezing- anchoring him and Rick shifts beneath your touch- lifts his head to find your gaze- eyes fierce upon you.
"I'm sorry, Omega- I hesitated and it would have cost you everything-" Rick says and you realize you haven't been the only one berating yourself over that day.
"Rick-" you breathe out, intent to calm his self admonishment. "It's okay. You protected me,"
He only shakes his head, grits his teeth.
"I should have-" he begins but you cut him off by soothing your fingers over his face, the hard set of his jaw clenching beneath them. Your purr is soft- barely a sound but Rick's eyes close when the faint click of it reaches his ears, the first flicker of something like peace that you've ever seen aside from when he's asleep flashing over his face under your reassuring gesture. But then his brows are furrowing, a large hand coming up to grasp yours and pull it away. You fret at the action and Rick is quick to speak.
"I don't deserve you, Omega," he says. "Especially not you calling me your Alpha," he adds, large brown eyes solemn.
Sadness fills you as you bring your hand back to yourself and Rick resumes monitoring the compound below you in silence. You're tired of things being decided for you. Of everything in your life being out of your control. Omega or not you want to be able to make your own decisions. And Rick is someone that you've wanted for a long time.
It's what bolsters your voice when you speak.
"Then why do you keep protecting me?" you ask.
Rick sighs before he turns back to you.
"I'm scared Waller's going to alter your meds again. That next time it happens you'll be too far away for me to reach you in time," Rick explains.
"So that's it?" you ask, voice bolder than you thought. He shoots you a warning glare but you continue anyway.
"You're just following your training?" you ask and something in the way Rick huffs tells you that you should back off but you don't- keep pushing the subject with a force that surprises even you.
"There's no other reason?" you query, your own anger igniting when Rick growls low.
"Quit," he orders but the word is clipped with restraint and something darker in his eyes.
"No- I'm not going to stop until-" you begin and suddenly Rick has you pinned beneath him- both wrists caught up in one of his- his thumb working reflexively over one of your scent glands.
"Enough, Omega," Rick grinds out, large body trembling over yours where your legs are trapped beneath his but you note that he doesn't use his Alpha commands- never has on you.
"Until what?" he asks, voice hard as he searches your face.
"Until I bring you back to Waller's prison covered in my scent, filled with my seed and give her everything she wants?" Rick asks and even though you keen at his words- desperate for them- a deep seated dread fills you just as the same as it does him.
"What do you think happens then?" Rick asks again and you blink back tears, avoiding his gaze when his mouth drops to your jaw and he inhales deeply. Pulls your scent into his mouth with a greediness that sends your hips rutting into his.
"Tell me," he orders and you whimper, struggling into a submission that you hadn't anticipated when you started this. You shake your head adamantly, sobbing out a no, refusing to put words to Rick's irrefutable logic.
He sighs into your throat, breath stuttered with his own sob.
"I'll tell you what happens, darlin'," Rick says, voice softer as you cry beneath him, "You'll be removed from my team, locked up somewhere I'll never see you again. No chance of getting out. Of working off your sentence with Waller," Rick heaves out, voice strained with pain. "And I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that happened," he finishes before disengaging from you. Rises to his feet, the separation between you like a wound- sharp and raw.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Rick says, the words filled with regret and pain and you curl away from them- away from him with a loud sniffle.
"This-" Rick says, the thread between you reverberating with your frustration. "This has to be enough," he says and you don't know if it's for you or himself. A reminder of all the ways you're allowed to exist to him and the ways you can't.
"Okay," you whisper even though it isn't. Feels like it never will be for as long as you live.
Rick crouches, smooths a large hand over your face and crown- activates your comm with a crackle and helps pull you to sitting. For a long time you stay in his arms, trying to contain your cries as Rick holds you firmly to his chest until eventually Boomerang's voice appears in your ears, hailing you both back to camp.
The walk back is quiet. Heavy with the confessions and realizations shared as the sun sets. The golden light splaying over Rick's wide shoulders where he strides ahead of you in a way that makes you jealous. Mounts your frustration to near bursting so that when you return to camp you brush past Boomer and whatever silly quip he has about you and Rick being on watch together and collapse in your tent.
Upset as you are, you try to keep your cries quiet now that you're aware of Rick's super hearing. He's only trying to protect you. Why make him suffer more than he already has? The next day you put on a neutral face even as your heart lies shattered in your chest and try to keep up with the team as best you can. Wondering if Waller's plan might have been multifaceted- you're so distracted that when the next mission comes around you decline it. Afraid you'll get someone hurt with how fractured your mind feels- all your focus pulled onto Rick.
|=
At first Rick thinks that you're avoiding him. He doesn't resent you for it- only wishes that he could see you for more than brief glances into the common space at the prison. Wishes he could hear your voice- see the way your eyes sparkle when you smile- make sure that you're eating enough. Swallowing his pride, Rick checks in on you through Harley and Boomerang- gathers enough to set his mind at ease when he finds out you're not signing up for other missions instead of his ones.
But then he arrives at the prison one day to collect his team and the red alarms start screeching loud and constant. Alpha fight. Your section. Rick's moving before his mind catches up. When he arrives to your section the guards are subduing Harley who’s screaming bloody murder- only pausing when she spots Rick through the glass.
"Rick!" she hollers, fighting against her restraints with renewed zeal- surprising the guards and Flag when she breaks free and runs towards him. Hands slamming the glass with every word she speaks.
"Wallah's got her and Boomie on fuckin Mahloy's team. Can ya believe that?" Harley asks, waits for the understanding to arrive in Rick's face, smiles wide when it does although Rick sees the furrow between her different colored brows.
"Go get em tigah!" Harley screams through the glass as the guards collect her once more- now much more subdued than a moment ago and Rick knows why Harley and Boomer weren't on the team roster this morning.
Waller's trying to keep this under wraps.
Rick storms through the prison, arrives at Waller's office and wrenches open the locked door with ease. Slams it open and ten pairs of startled eyes settle on him where he takes up the entire door frame. There's one pair of eyes held carefully away from his bristling form.
Waller's.
"Where the fuck did you send Malloy's team?" Rick demands.
Waller smiles for a flash at the monitors overhead before she frowns and regards Rick.
"If I didn't know you Flag, I'd say you're behaving like an unhinged Alpha," Waller says and Rick bites back his growl.
"Where. Is. She." Rick grits out, uncaring at the collective gasp that ripples through the room. The quirk of Waller's lip.
"To finish what she couldn't the first time," Waller says and Rick seethes.
A Beta stands behind Waller.
"They're heading to Leece, Rick. Left two hours ago," the woman says, eyes glinting in solidarity even as Waller's head snaps towards her.
"Stand down, Beta. This isn't your fight," Waller orders and the woman merely clenches her fists.
"It is now," the woman replies and Waller huffs a laugh before turning back to Rick only to find him gone.
Waller growls at Rick's absence before she laughs maniacally.
"Just wait until he finds out Malloy's emergency kit is useless,” she says before the back of her head lights up with pain and the world goes dark.
|=
It starts on the plane this time. You're strapped into a seat in the deepest part of the hull- furthest from the ramp and with Boomer sitting like a pillar of animosity between you and the rest of Malloy's team.
You'd warned him. Drew the rag up over his face when the fog of your thoughts began to form before you’d boarded the plane. Told him about why the last time had gone as it did and what you think will happen this time. Boomer's hands are white across his knuckles where he grips his weapon, eyes cutting over the company surrounding you as he takes short sips of the air through the cloth.
"Think Waller fucked with my meds too," Boomer tells you under his breath, his voice a near constant growl.
"Not surprised. She hates when her plans don't work out the first time," you say, fingers clutching the straps that hold you upright in your seat as pain courses through you. Boomer groans beside you, boot tapping a nervous pattern on the metal when the Alpha across from you suddenly rouses from his sleep- eyes settling sharp and hungry upon you.
Your stomach swoops as the plane turns into its descent and you unclasp the buckle of your straps when you see the Alpha across from you do the same.
"Stay behind me, love," Boomerang orders when he stands and steps forward, intercepting the path of the Alpha towards you.
Malloy perks up in his seat at the confrontation.
"Settle down boys there's no need to fight-" but the words die in his throat once he's tasted the air. Eyes finding your form as you hang on the netting of the hull to remain upright and the men in front of you.
"Oh fuck," Malloy says, hands scrabbling for his emergency kit. The woman beside him snatches it from his grip.
"Hold on, Mal. Don't you think we deserve this? Why else would Waller place an Omega on our team?" the woman says with a slick smile turned towards you.
"Give that back, Parasythe," Malloy orders but there's a waver in his voice.
A man beside Parasythe pipes up.
"I heard about this. She's the bitch that killed Trigger!" he accuses, thrusts a finger at you before he unbuckles and stands. Boomer's got one hand wrapped around the front of the original Alpha's armor, holding him at bay but his focus diverts to the new threat.
"Malloy get your fucking team in check," Boomer orders and Malloy's scrambling to obey, hands lifting his gun to Parasythe.
"Give me the fucking kit, Parasythe. Or we're all dead before this plane touches ground," Malloy barks and Parasythe seems to consider his words for a moment. You're too focused on the man that was beside her as he approaches, fighting the gravity to reach you. You edge along the hull, approaching a man that keeps his gaze held carefully to the floor. When you get to just before arm's reach his gaze flicks to you, fear all over his face and a plea behind his eyes not to approach. But he's represented less of an issue than the rest so you press forwards.
He startles, jumps up and darts across the hull, knocking into Parasythe and the kit falls from her grip. Parasythe snarls- hands wrapping around the man's neck before she pauses.
"You're like her," Parasythe hisses into his face as he shakes his head furiously.
Now the man's behavior makes sense. The careful avoidance of you- the fear that he'd have to mimic an Alpha if you neared him. You can only hope he'll survive Parasythe's murderous wrath as Malloy collects the kit. Behind you there's the sound of fists and wood hitting flesh. Pained and strained grunts as Boomerang tries to keep the two Alpha's at bay.
Malloy drags you to the ramp and begins rifling through the kit, eyes intent on the threats behind you.
"I'm sorry- Waller didn't tell me about you," Malloy cringes and looks at Parasythe and the man clawing back at her, "Or Petri. If I had known I never would have let you on my missions."
You snort derisively at the captain's attitude.
"We're not useless. Petri's holding his own," you say, chin tipping at the Omega that's effectively restraining Parasythe.
"Bet Waller didn't fuck with his meds like she did mine," you spit as Malloy produces the syringe of suppressant. He looks at it uncertainly before you.
"Do you know how to use this?" Malloy asks and you gape at him.
"They trained you for this," you say even as you collect the syringe and pull up your shirt, slamming it into the softness of your lower stomach.
"I wasn't paying attention- never thought that I'd ever have to-," Malloy says sheepishly and you scoff, roll your eyes for a brief moment so you can keep Boomer's progress in your sights.
"Whatever. It's not working," you report, grab the blade at your thigh and post up to fight anyone that gets past Boomer.
"What?!" Malloy gasps, fear filling his face once more.
"It's not working," you gruff. "Actually I think it's made it worse," you say with a cringe, blade clanging on the metal as your knees join where it's fallen.
The world jumps and jumps and your joints scream as the plane lands.
Beyond you Malloy hits the ramp switch. You feel the vibrations beneath you as it falls and thunks into the ground before Malloy's dragging you backwards. Where Malloy's footsteps descend another pair stomps up.
The smell of pine and wood smoke and Rick fills your senses. There's a terse conversation above you before Malloy's grip renews and you're dragged once more. Rick's broad frame climbs the ramp and disappears into the hull just as Malloy tugs you behind a tree.
"You need to help- help him," you urge Malloy when he merely frets in front of you.
"He's gone against procedure. Against Waller. She'll have both our heads," Malloy tells you.
"She'd have you dead. Why do you think the serum didn't work?" you retort and Malloy's gaze settles on you with disbelief.
"The only reason it didn't work is because you're mated to Flag!" Malloy says, outraged that you'd think otherwise.
You lift your chin, displaying your scent glands.
"Not mated," you grit out. "Waller's doing. All of it."
Malloy seems to consider your words before he sighs, hesitation gripping his features.
"Well, you two smell the same," Malloy tells you, "Has to mean something."
"Not if we all die here," you say, gathering a storm behind your gaze and you direct it at Malloy.
"Alright, jeez I'm going," Malloy says before he rises and trots out of view.
An eternity later Boomerang appears at your side- bloody and grinning like a fool. His hands sweep over your face as he looks you over before his smile drops into a concerned frown.
"Is Rick-?" you ask weakly and Boomer nods with his whole body.
"He's fine sweetheart, just wrapping up things with Malloy. You on the other hand-" Boomer's voice drops off as he registers your sweaty, breathless form.
"The serum didn't work?" Boomer asks, more out of politeness because your scent is so strong that he's not sure how Flag hasn't ripped him away from you yet.
You shake your head.
"Shit," Boomer curses before he stands and stalks off.
More eternity. It's all pain and need until Rick appears and you groan.
Rick drops to his knees- hands carefully lifting your face to his. Rick presses a soft kiss to your lips and your body reacts with fervor, hands scrambling up in his armor and tugging him to you but Rick doesn't budge. You whine- nearly cry when he pulls away and shakes his head.
"Not like this, sweetheart. I'm getting you out of here," Rick says.
"What about Waller?" you manage, surprised that the thought has formed even with the heavy curtain over your thoughts.
"Waller's been demoted," Rick informs you.
"The chip?" you ask weakly as Rick hauls you into his arms and starts carrying you towards the tarmac.
"Deactivated permanently," Rick tells you, remembering the conversation he had with the beta, Kit, back at base. Rick diverts from your predicted path of the plane to a truck across from it just as Boomer arrives, holding up an emergency kit with a grin.
"Pilots got their own personal kit," Boomer informs you before Rick is setting you down in the backseat of the truck. They make short work of administering the medication and you all wait with held breaths until you suck in air that's not choked with pain or need.
"You're a genius, Boomie," you tell your friend and he smiles before he looks between you and Rick.
"Where are you headed?" he asks.
"Somewhere safe. Lie low for a bit. There's gonna be some reforms to Waller's system. Figured we'd wait those out," Rick says.
"Is that allowed?" you ask.
"When have you ever been concerned about what's allowed?" Boomer teases before he slaps the roof of the truck.
"Well, I'm off to help Malloy give a little lectie to his team," Boomer says.
"Give 'em hell, Boomie," you say and he salutes you with a smile that softens when he sees the thank you in yours.
Boomer punches Rick's shoulder playfully before jabbing a finger in his face.
"Keep that one safe or Harley will have your ass quicker than shit, yeah?" Boomie says and Rick smiles through a short nod before he helps you into the passenger seat and you go your separate ways.
|=
The neon lights of the diner sign behind your head buzzes as you sag into the booth with a satisfied sigh. The cleared plates separate you from Rick where he regards you seriously across the table.
"The only time I've seen you look that serious is when you're thinking of breaking rank," you tell Rick with a smile that he doesn't return. Not even a little bit and you worry.
Rick sighs before he shifts in the booth.
"What I told Boomer wasn't entirely true," he admits with a sigh.
"Boy scout Flag is a liar?" you quip, enjoy the warning look Rick throws at you even as his lips quirk slightly.
"I have no intention of bringing you back there. Even with Waller gone," Rick says, no hesitation in his admission.
Your eyebrows almost reach the ceiling.
"Are you saying I'm a fugitive? And you're aiding and abetting?" you ask.
Rick shakes his head.
"You never should have been in there. Kit sent me your file and I read it on the way over," he says. "You saved a kid."
"I killed someone," you say quietly.
"Out of self defense," he replies.
"Doesn't change the fact that they're dead because of me. No matter the reason," you say.
"They deserved it," he counters.
"And justice says I deserved this sentence. I should be nearly done working it off," you reply.
"Justice also allowed Trigger to work off his. How does that make sense?"
You shrug because it doesn't.
"And you've already worked off your sentence," Rick says.
"What?" you ask, shock sending you to the edge of your seat.
"Waller didn't notify you. Didn't notify anyone. Just let you keep volunteering." Rick bites off the words. "Look, what I'm trying to say is that I've processed your release and you're free to do whatever you want now. You don't have to stay with me. There's a bag in the back of that truck with everything you need to start a new life.”
"So that's it?" you ask, mirroring your words from that day on the hill.
Rick stiffens across from you.
"There's no other reason?" you ask, eyes glittering with challenge and Rick takes a sharp breath when he meets it.
"There might be another," Rick tells you, hand fidgeting with his empty coffee mug as he smiles to himself.
You lean forwards, hands wrapping around his, fingers trailing to his wrist and then further, letting your scent gland brush over his, enjoy the way Rick's lips part and his eyes close at the contact.
"Darlin' keep that up and this whole diner's gonna know all my reasons,” Rick says, the warning light over his tongue as his other hand grasps yours, pressing your gland further into his own. Brown eyes snap open when he hears your short intake of breath and the way you squirm in your seat. Catches the needy sound you make that you try to bury in your throat from the noise of the diner around you.
Rick releases your hands only as long as it takes to slam a few bills onto the table and then he's collecting you from the booth and pushing you out of the diner and into the truck. His large hand never leaves yours until it’s doing all the things that you- and Rick, too, as he tells you through fervent kisses- imagined doing in your tents for so long.
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Kinktober Day 10
Kinktober Prompt: Breeding
Summary: Rick came home from a mission with new, different mission on his mind.
Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader
Word Count: 1,245
Warnings: SMUT, Breeding Kink, slight daddy kink,
Fandom: DCEU/The Suicide Squad (2021)
Rating: SMUT, 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
The span of time between the sound of the front door closing and the feeling of arms around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest was too short to process. His face was buried in your neck, pressing all kinds of kisses to the exposed skin. "Hello to you too, baby," you said with a giggle as his rough beard tickled the skin of your shoulder. Rick turned you around and pulled you into a needy, desperate kiss, his arm around your waist holding you as close to him as possible while his hand cupped your cheek, holding your face securely. Your arms quickly found their way around his neck, holding him just as securely and leaning into the impassioned kiss. Your fingers tangled in his messy brown hair, trying to anchor him to you. He mumbled something you didn't quite catch without separating his lips from yours. "Hm?" You hummed in response, only slightly pulling away. "I said I don't wanna wait anymore, darling. There was an incident on the mission, I almost died. I don't wanna go another day without us having a family anymore because there might not always be time," he said breathlessly as he cupped your cheeks, looking deep into your eyes with a gleam of desperation you'd never seen in him before.
"Are you sure, Rick?" You asked softly. He nodded quickly, a small smile that could almost be described as sheepish appearing on his face "I'm damn positive, baby. I want to have a family with you before I can't," He searched your face for any sign of disagreement but instead found you pulling him back into another needy kiss. When you reluctantly pulled away, you were already dragging him to the bedroom, a trail of clothes being left in the wake. The minute the last article of clothing was on the floor, Rick was pulling you into bed and trailing hasty kisses down your body. Hiking your legs over his shoulders, he chanced one look up at you before diving into you like a man starved. The first swipe of his tongue was slow but quickly got faster, needier. His nose nudged your clit gently as his tongue circled your entrance teasingly slowly, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your inner thigh as his hand moved closer to where you wanted him. A gentle, almost silent moan fell from your lips when his finger slowly pressed into you. He added another fairly quickly and curled them slowly in a 'come hither' motion, all the while lips locked around your clit, alternating between roughly sucking the little bud and flicking it with his tongue just to make you jolt some.
His ministrations, combined with the scratch and burn of his beard had you quickly approaching your orgasm but when he felt your walls quiver and clench around him, your husband pulled his fingers out and licked them clean, staring directly into your eyes as he did while you emitted a desperate whine. "Sorry, darlin' but the only way you're cumming is on my cock," he said with what could only be described as an eager smile on his face as he lined his member at your entrance. He slowly pushed into you, making sure you felt every inch of him entering your deepest, most intimate places. A shuddered breath escaped him when his pelvic bone met yours, his entire length enveloped by the warm, familiar walls of your cunt.
"I missed you so much," he said in a soft, almost desperate tone while planting a kiss on your forehead. "I missed you too baby," you answered back quietly with a sweet smile. "Now stop holding back and get me pregnant already," you challenged with a smirk. The loving gleam in his eyes was immediately replaced with lust-blown pupils, a wicked grin crossing his face "if that's what the lady wants, who am I to object?" He lazily pulled his hips back and waited for you to start to object before snapping his hips forward, a loud, surprised moan filling the room.
"That what you wanted, darlin'? Want me to use you until I cum so your greedy little cunt can't take my seed?" He whispered in your ear without losing any momentum in his hips. You nodded quickly and rocked your hips with his, moaning incoherent curses of his name. "You want me to breed this tight cunt of yours, kitten? Hm? Want me to just cum in your pretty little pussy every day until you're belly's round with my kid?" He continued, pressing a gentle kiss just under your earlobe; the gentle, loving gesture provided an interesting contrast to the utter filth that left his lips as his hips repeatedly snapped into yours. "F-fuck-yes, Rick!" you managed to say in little more than a croak. "Say it, kitten. Tell me you want me to breed you, that you're only good for being bred by me," he ordered in his colonel voice, making sure each word oozed authority and command. A sharp smack landed to your thigh landed when you didn't get a word out, a surprised yelp following the laugh crack of his open palm on your soft skin. "Say it, kitten. Say it and daddy's gonna give you what you want," he ordered again, grabbing your chin and making you look into his eyes.
It was hard to get any coherent word out when you felt the spring in your belly quickly tightening, and tightening. Another smack landed, this one on the globe of your ass and he warned "don't you dare cum before you've followed my orders." A desperate whine left you and you spoke quickly "I want you to breed me!" "Very good, kitten, and the rest?" He taunted while his thumb fell to your clit, rubbing slow teasing circles over the desperate and hyper-sensitive bundle. "I'm only good for being bred by you, colonel, please! Please colonel, daddy, please let me cum before you fill my needy little cunt with your seed. Let me cum so you can breed me!" You begged, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your muscles tightened, doing everything possible to fight off the impending orgasm.
"Fuck, princess, that's such a good girl, now cum on daddy's cock. Now." He said breathlessly, his hips sputtering before he stilled inside of you. You weren't sure what you moaned out as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you, drowning you in white-hot pleasure while he got lost in his own climax. You barely registered the feeling of his warmth filling your insides, jet after jet of his cum shooting deep into your core, straight into your womb. He panted heavily, eyes half-lidded as he sat back on his shins, still holding your hips flush against his so nothing spilled out. You hadn't even realized your eyes were screwed shut until you had to open them and were greeted with the sight of him staring lovingly at your stomach like he was imagining the life that would grow there.
As much as you hated to kill the mood, you let out a quiet laugh "honey, you know I have an implant right?" He groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes "how soon can you get it removed?" "Hand me my phone, I'll call my doctor and make an appointment." He beamed a bright grin and nodded "until it's gone, you and I can keep practicin', okay, kitten?" "I expect nothing less," you agreed.
