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Dean’s beard, reblog if you agree

safe house

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader Wordcount: 3.1k Warnings: semi public sex. rough smut. pain kink. size difference. ghost is a simp. sex on a couch. cum play Summary: “Kid,” he husks. “I wouldn’t give a shit if they all came in and watched.” Simon 'Ghost' Riley Masterlist

Of all the risky shit you've participated in, deciding to sit with Ghost post-mission takes the cake. Things just happen. Out of your control.

You can't not listen to him.

Even your teammates give you nervous glances when Simon barks at you to come see him for a "debrief."

You're screwed, lass.

Eat a dick, Soap.

So here you are, forced to brush shoulders with your hulking lieutenant while the others shower or scrape cold chili out of cans in the tiny safe house kitchen.

Everything is secure.

Ghost smells like fireworks. There’s snow still melting in his boots. He’s managed to remove all his gear aside from his gun on the coffee table, but he’s just as enormous. Burly. Rippling with that animal aggression, he can’t shake off after a mission. 

“You should shower,” you suggest sweetly. You’d gotten first dibs, but you’d been unable to scrape off the blood wedged under your fingernails and mud crusted to your hairline like sea barnacles. You feel dirty, as if the job had left you withered and full of dust. There’s the particular flavor of guilt clinging to the underside of your mouth. 

“You didn’t listen to a direct order,” Ghost utters in a voice so quiet it could flicker into smoke. He was screaming at you earlier, demanding that you return to him instead of toward the USB drive with the intel. Red Fox. You take one more bloody step, and I’ll suspend your ass.

“It would have been for nothing had we not gotten it,” you protest. Deny. Deny. Double down. Invent excuses, even though the scariest man alive is speaking to you like he may just break your neck. 

He shifts on the couch. The sounds of your teammates seem very far away, although they’re only in the next room. Simon is angry, and it’s not the familiar hot-headed fury he favors. No. It’s chilling. He’s holding himself back. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his gloveless fingers curl around the edge of the couch. They’re enormous hands. They can wrap entirely around your bicep, the nape of your neck, or the crown of your skull.

He leans back, thighs spread open, stealing space and shoving you toward the end of the couch without even moving a muscle.

“I’m sorry,” you offer rather pathetically. Your voice is audibly weary, utterly subservient. Ghost runs a tight fucking ship, and everything can collapse if you step a hair out of line. 

He presses his arm against yours, lowering his head closer to your ear. “I don’t give a fuck.” 

His hand finds your hip, and before you realize it, he’s got one arm banded around your chest while keeping you pinned to his front. Hee slides behind you until you’re both horizontal, your legs tangled together, his covered mouth puffing warm air against your jaw. You could be spooning if his embrace wasn’t so carved with aggression. 

“You know it’s not about bloody fuckin’ orders,” he growls as he shoves your sweats down your thighs.

“Wha-”

You choke on a gasp as the muscular forearm around your cotton-covered tits squeezes, sealing you into him until you can’t budge an inch. You can hear him fumbling with the button on his pants. There’s blood on his boots. The denim and his sweatshirt irritate your bare skin. You’re damp from your shower, and he’s coated in a thin film of battle. “Simon,” you warn. “They’ll - they’ll come in.”

Unbothered, he continues, and you can feel him, heavy and hot against your lower back. “What did I tell you?” he mutters into your hair. “Before we left...when I had you on your knees?”

Your mind is sprinting on overdrive. The blood rushing under your skin is flaring to an almost unbearable heat. Yesterday morning? You’d snuck into the bathroom with Simon...gotten on the cold tile floor, and sucked him off until he’d nearly punched a hole in the cheap plaster wall. He’d been surprised. It’s not like you hadn’t screwed before, but anytime you ever gave him pleasure when it was only about him, he’d get totally weird. 

Like he didn’t deserve it even though he -

Without warning, he breaches you with a thick finger. You bite down on your lower lip, swallowing a grunt. Your sweats are caught around your knees, and his tree trunks for legs spread you open and stretched like you’re latched into an intricate web. He lazily thrusts into your soaked cunt, drawing his finger out to the tip before sinking it back to the knuckle. 

“Jesus, Riley,” you moan, and the arm across your breasts lifts just enough so he can cover your mouth with his hand. 

“What did I say, love?” 

Your brain isn’t working. Your entire focus has narrowed to the overwhelming sensation of him finger-fucking you from behind. It is a rare show on his part. It’s risky, but Simon Riley is a super soldier, and his hyper-fixation is now firmly on the task of ruining you.   

He lowers the hand from your lips to allow you to speak.

“Swallow it?” you try, and he pauses before an unsettling, baritone noise reverberates within his massive chest and he withdraws his finger only to bury two inside you. 

You jerk, keeping silent but dangerously on the brink of a damn orgasm. You’re drenched, and Ghost’s slow, drawn-out movements squelch with every perfunctory pump of his hand.

You can feel the hard shell of his mask against the crown of your head. “You’re going to be the death of me, kid,” Ghost sighs.

He sounds...exasperated. Perhaps, you had, admittedly, fucked up. You shouldn’t have done it. You should have listened to him. Escape had been narrow and made even more narrow by you wasting precious seconds to grab the intel. Even if Ghost had the countenance of a bull shark, he cared more than most. He was staunchly loyal. He wouldn’t lose people under his watch. 

But you aren’t just people.

Fuck buddy? Sure. 

More than that?

You weren’t entirely oblivious to how he touched you outside their secret trysts. His gaze lingered, his presence curled around you like an oversized shadow. 

What had he said yesterday morning?

“Stay alive,” he husked as his palm enveloped the top of your skull, those sleepy, ink-filled eyes searching yours. His thumb traced your cheek as you rested the side of your face against his thigh. The salt of him coated your throat, the nape of your neck still tingled from his iron grip when he finished in your mouth. “Please.” 

Gingerly, you tug an arm free to grasp the hand silencing you. You pull it away, and Ghost, Simon, allows it. Shooting him a desperate, aching glance over your shoulder, you press your lips to his fingertips. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. “I’ll stay alive for you.” 

You give his words back, hoping it’s enough. 

See? I was listening. I was listening as you throat-fucked me. 

Pleased, he murmurs your name as he presses closer before you force two of his fingers into your mouth and suck. He goes rigid, and the other set of fingers inside you become still as if he’s trying to assess this startling development and figure out the next strategy. It is only a moment, a few seconds, and then he draws away from your cunt to grasp the underside of your thigh. He eases it up before shifting his hips forward, and there he is: his thick, unforgiving length crudely gliding through your folds. The pleasure comes in bursts. Tiny pricks. Stars. Each time the head of his cock grazes your clit, it sends sparks unfurling in your belly. You shove your ass back into him, demanding and needy. 

You started this, you want to say when you know he’d turn it around with: You did when you didn’t fucking listen. 

His hand returns to your hip, his thumb rubbing small, tight circles into the flesh. “Desperate, are we?” His voice is rough - all gravel and artillery smoke and so low it sweeps like a tongue against the seam of your pussy. “I thought you were scared the others would see us?”

You release his fingers with a slick pop, and he, once again, wraps his forearm around your chest in order to anchor you to him. You can just imagine the scene the team would walk in on. 

Ghost, fully clothed, with his tattooed arm snug around your tits. You’re in a flimsy tank top with your sweats tangled around your knees. His mask-covered face is notched over your shoulder. To anyone, he’d look untouched while you were ruined. Bare thighs glistening with your own arousal. Humiliating.

“Do you care?”

He chuckles, and it vibrates against your back. “Kid,” he husks. “I wouldn’t give a shit if they all came in and watched.”

You shiver, involuntarily clenching around nothing. “Right,” you croak as you feel his hips draw back again, the fingers holding your thigh in the air, are digging into your skin. Blunt nails. Dirt. “Because...because then they’d know I’m yours.”

That must do something to him because he sucks in a breath and suddenly, without hesitation, slides into you until his groin is nestled against your ass. You black-out. Your vision swims and blurs until you can’t distinguish between the dark fireplace and the shitty armchairs. His cock is too big. That’s a stone-cold fact. The first time he’d fucked you had been more than a challenge. He’d prepared you with his tongue, fingers, spit and lube you filched from Soap, but it had still been difficult. 

He’s breathing steadily as his heart thumps against your back. His hand falls to your stomach, where he can, undoubtedly, feel the head of his cock nudging one of your internal organs. You feel full - crammed to the brim and feverish. Sweat collects at your hairline as you endure the pressure of him inside you. The girth. The weight. Every time Ghost fucks you, it’s a lesson in endurance. He can go for hours, and you take it like his well-trained soldier. The two of you are an HR nightmare.

You squeak when Ghost presses his balaclava-covered mouth to your neck. “Good girl,” he soothes, clucking his tongue. “Good girl...just take it like you are. Fuckin’ perfect.”

Well-endowed fuck. 

It’s only painful in a good way. Your body accommodates him, allowing him to squeeze an inch deeper as his hand slides down from your belly to your clit. He presses it gently before drawing circles. He retreats, his cock dragging through your walls until he’s halfway out before he plunges back in. The pace is unhurried. He’s grinding into you as if he’s savoring every part of your pussy. He cups your tits, grasps your throat, and explores the sensitive flesh stretched around his enormous shaft. 

You’re never having anal. 

Unless he asked really nicely. 

“I want to mark you,” he muses through long, deliberate strokes. “If I come in that lovely cunt, you’d keep me in there, yeah?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately, even though you sound like you’ve been drowned and spit back onto the beach. You’re so sick with him, overwhelmed and a little in love and how did this fucking happen? “Anything you want, Luitenant.”

He delivers a sharper thrust that nearly propels you off the couch, but his grasp on your waist is unforgivable. His strength. His presence. He smells like sweat and packed dirt and a forest fire. “You’re bloody obedient when I’ve got my cock in you.”

Obviously. 

“I know,” you murmur as you bite your lip again when he strikes something tender. He’s rubbing your clit in time with every snap of his hips, dick pistoning inside you as your lower muscles buckle, your thighs quivering as your pleasure hangs precariously over a steep drop. His legs wedge yours open, keeping your cunt spread as he manipulates your body like one of his precious guns. If I move this, what will this do? Let me make it better.  

“I’m so - so fucking easy,” you slur. 

“No,” he grits as his pelvis begins to stutter against your ass, his breathing ragged. “No, you’re the most difficult thing I’ve ever had beneath me - ever - ever had to fuckin’ handle.”

God - that has double meanings. You’re his subordinate. You’re his lover. You’re on your knees for him, but it goes both ways. It had been Ghost who had turned the lights off the first time and removed his mask. He’d trusted you enough to shut your eyes and let him lick your pussy until you were in tears. 

I wouldn’t look, Riley. That’s something I won’t take unless you give it. 

You had felt his face, though. In the pitch blank, you had touched his full lips, the defined lines of his cheekbones. You’d felt his thick, silky hair and the bumps of various scars. 

You feel sexy.

You’re trying to butter me up. 

The sounds from the kitchen startle you. The men are taunting each other. A pan clatters. The volume turns up, and you suddenly realize that you and Ghost are making quite a bit of noise. The couch is creaking. Your cunt indecently squelches with every spear of his cock. He’s grunting into your hair, the skin at his groin smacking the full flesh of your ass as he bottoms out. 

“They’re going to hear us,” you warn. You’re on the cusp of exploding, breaking into fragments. 

“They probably already do,” he quips before fucking you harder. Your hand flies up to clutch at his burly forearm, your other hand rises higher to grasp the back of his head. You want his hair, you want to fist it and hurt him just a little. “Easy, love,” he urges. “Relax...relax...you’re getting too tense.”

He’s right. Your orgasm has fluttered away because now you’re fully aware that your teammates have probably created a racket to drown out their Lieutenant, their stiff, cold enigma of a Lieutenant, railing their comrade into the couch. 

“Focus, kid,” he orders bluntly as if he was chastising you on a mission. He ducks his head and nuzzles your cheek to coax you back into his fold. “They won’t come in,” he drawls in a low, piercing rumble. “They won’t say a goddamn word because they know I’d murder every one of them if they tried ripping me away from this cunt.”

Holy. Fuck. 

Everything has climbed up your throat. Your head is on backward. The pressure of his cock, his fingers on your clit, and his massive body wrapped around your own is causing the air to crackle. 

“Simon,” you gasp as he readjusts his grip and forces you forward. He shifts his hips so he’s thrusting down, and it’s impossible to know when he’ll be done. He rides your ass until his pace falters and his cock twitches and throbs before he abruptly settles, douses out the fire, and continues at a more even, lazy rhythm. 

“I need you to come for me, darling,” he encourages softly. It’s dipped in a tenderness that surprises you. His voice remains deep and gruff, but there’s a gentleness behind it. You’ve never seen his face, and the intimacy with which he handles you is nothing you have ever experienced. It is too much. 

Ghost gives you his history in patches. There are brief moments where finishes and rolls off you, and you both just stare at the ceiling, fingers brushing in the dark. “There’s this pub by the Irwell that I think you’d fancy,” he remarks. “Jesus knows if it’s still around, but I reckon you’d like it.”

It’s not just sex. This is not just sex at all. 

Stay alive. 

Please. 

You know it’s not about bloody fuckin’ orders.

Simon is coaxing you into your climax. He’s buried so deep that you can feel the tip of him nudge against your womb. You feel swollen and raw, and his muscles twitch against you. You’re throbbing like an open wound as he maneuvers your ragdoll body on his cock. It should be overwhelming, but his fearsome rough voice is full of yearning when he motivates you to find your pleasure. 

The tang of your climax builds until there’s nowhere else for it to go. It roars forward, jolting through your limbs as it forces you to curl into a fetal position, but Simon is right there. He holds you in place, his mask grazing your cheek. “C’mon, love,” he says. “That’s it. Good girl.” 

As his palm clamps over your mouth, you erupt, and you bathe his cock in your climax. Hot and flooded as the punch of a tropical storm. “Bite me,” Ghost demands, instinctively thrusting into your soaked, fluttering heat. “Do what you need, love. Take it out on me.” 

He groans when your teeth nip his palm. You bite harder, and he nearly chokes.  

You don’t understand how this has gone from him enraged to riding you to a full gallop to allowing you to use him for your own pleasure. As he fucks you through it, jamming into the searing, wet clutch of your spasming sex, he hits his end. His hands on you tighten as he makes a deep, grating noise from his chest, filling you up. It’s warm and somewhat soothing. Shuddering, Ghost has to brace his arm on the couch to keep himself from collapsing on top of you. 

“Fucking hell,” he mutters as he buries his face into your neck. “Jesus.”

He slips out, and there is only emptiness. You’re aching and sore, and he pets at your cunt, pressing his come deeper so it doesn’t drip. You shift onto your side to face him, his hand still nestled against your pussy, his eyes black and heavy-lidded as they regard you with subtle affection. 

“Keep me in there,” he reminds you. 

Hesitantly, you snag the edge of his black ski mask and slowly lift it. He stops breathing, his heart beginning to thump wildly as his gaze widens. However, he doesn’t stop you, and it’s a test you predicted. 

“Red,” he warns. Your call sign. The bite of his authority rippling between you. 

You hitch the mask just a centimeter above his top lip. You sit up awkwardly, your sweats still knotted around your knees, your lower half gone to jello. You grasp his stubbled jaw and kiss him tenderly. He stiffens, making a startled noise in the back of his throat before he decidedly returns it, licking into the cavern of your mouth as he forces you onto your back and wedges himself between your legs. The pointed edge of his skull mask digs into the top of your cheek, but you’re past caring. You can feel his cock filling against the crease of your thigh. 

Again? You can’t go again. You’d surely split in half. 

“Don’t worry,” he says as if he can read your mind. “I just want this.”

Just this. The couch, the safe house, and their teammates only a room away. 

He breathes against your mouth, the sliver of his secret skin scratching your own. You nudge your thumb along a scar and kiss him harder. 

Loud and clear- Rick Flag

Fandom: DC, suicide squad

Pairing: Rick Flag X F!Reader

Summary: after almost getting killed, you and Rick need to hold each other again

Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, choking kink, praising kink, lots of dirty talk, Rick being pretty dom, cursing, like lots of it. Overall read at your risk

WC: 5.4k i really just hate myself for this

A/N: I'm really just in love with this man huh? 2 rick fics in less than a week? That's a lot coming from me. But yeah, I just couldn't get scenario out of my head after I wrote Bloodbath, so its kind of a continuation of that fic, but can be read independently since it only briefly mentions reader get shot. I'll link it here just in case. So yeah, hopefully youre enjoying this spam of rick flag content.

Bloodbath

“Uh… the hell are you doin'?” Rick’s voice caught your attention, making you take your attention away from your current task, which was staring very intently at the soldier, more specifically at his arms and chest through that ridiculously tight yellow shirt.

“Huh?” You hummed, barely lifting your eyes away from his tattooed arms, the same ones that were just threatening to rip right through the fabric of that stupid shirt. I mean seriously, who got him that shirt? You got front row seats to the sight too, since you had been shot and not properly cured, your wounds started bleeding and of course, Rick had to force you to sit down and let him cure and clean your wounds. So there you were, sitting in a shitty makeshift chair somewhere in that resistance camp, and Rick sitting right in front of you, really damn close.

‘You’re just starin' at me like you’re plotting to kill me in my sleep. So what is it?” He asked straight up, momentarily lifting his gaze from the gauze he was putting on your collarbone to meet your eyes and he didn’t know if he should be worried by the look in your eyes. You couldn’t help but smirk slightly, biting your lip and you shook your head.

"Nah, that's not it. It's just that damn shirt." You clicked your tongue, biting your lip as you shifted on your seat and narrowed your eyes at the shirt, like there was something wrong with it. Rick scrunched up his face, furrowing his eyebrows and opened his mouth to question you, but you continued, “like damn, that resistance girl really couldn’t have given you a tighter shirt, huh? That shit doesn’t even look like it’s your size.” You drifted your attention to the muscles in his chest and broad shoulders, where the fabric was tightest, even going as far as tilting your head to get a better look at it. You heard Rick sigh dryly, and you knew he was rolling his eyes at you.

“Seriously, what the hell are you on about?” He sighed, watching you get all up in his chest and start to poke and tug at the shirt, as if you were trying to see if it’d stick right back to him, which it did. “Y/N—”

“I gotta give it to her, if I was a girl from this island and I saw this big and tall, blonde soldier with broad shoulders and a pretty face, I’d probably wanna put him in a tight shirt too.” You said mindlessly, your mouth speaking the random and racing thoughts that went through your head as you casually started to lift his shirt until the fabric got stuck under his arms. He actually reacted this time, visibly flinching and shifting, eyes wide.

“Hey, Y/N, stop it already. What the fuck are you doin'?” His tone was sharper this time, his voice slightly rising as he frantically looked around for anyone that might be around. His hands wrapped around your wrist, as a warning to stop before he made you stop.

“Nothing, I’m just trying to see something.” You said innocently, biting your lip as you ran your hands over his stomach and abs, feeling him shudder under your fingers.

Even though he had a tight grip on your wrists, he didn’t actually stop you, he just stared at you and exhaled sharply. When he didn’t actually say anything about it, you rested both hands on his chest to brace yourself as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his neck. You weren’t really sure why, but suddenly you really needed him, you needed to feel him, hold him, touch him everywhere you could. And you needed him to do the same. You didn’t care if that meant he had to fuck you up against a tree, or on the fucking ground, right in the middle of this damn jungle, you just wanted him. The thought of losing the other always made you like this, it made you restless, desperate and needy. God bless the soul of anyone that had to be around you and Rick after a risky, low chance of survival mission. And after what happened at the beach, you knew he felt that way too, and that’s exactly why he hasn’t stopped you yet.

Sex after a mission was like your way of saying 'I'm right here, can you feel me? I'm not going anywhere'

“You’re tryin' to see what? How fast I lose my patience and fuck the lights out of you?” He spoke hoarsely through gritted teeth, slightly tilting his head back in an attempt to keep his composure. But when you quietly moaned at his words, he fucking lost it. The hand that was clasped around your wrist quickly grabbed a hold of the back of your hair, pulling your head back enough to look at him. And the damn near dark look in his hazel eyes and his hard expression as he held your hair left your jaw hanging open.

“Wow, look at that Colonel, you’re pretty and smart. Makes me wonder what’s taking you so long.” You pushed, knowing the more you retorted and talked back, the quicker he’d lose his shit. Because fuck, the way he was just staring at you, jaw tight and eyes narrowed with that dark look, it was just making the ache between your legs stronger.

“Sweetheart, don’t fucking play with me right now.” He exhaled heavily, his voice dropping so low and getting so rough it made you slightly rub your thighs together. You bit your lip and shook your head, silently moving from your seat on to his lap, you instantly felt the hard line of his cock straining against his pants press right against the ache between your legs.

“I’m not. Fuck, I’m not playing with you. I thought I lost you and I just— Fuck Rick, I just need you so much right now. I need to feel you’re here with me, please.” You said so desperately it almost sounded like a whine coming out of your mouth.

You didn't even give him a second to speak, you crashed your lips against his, gripping his short hair as you kissed him with a fervour he of course, matched perfectly. You moaned against his mouth when you felt one of his hands sneak behind you, squeezing your ass under his fingers and his other hand came to grip your jaw in a possessive manner. That sound only riled him up more, because the mere sound of you made him pull you in more, kissing you in a damn near pornographic way as he held you jaw in place, his fingers being enough to damn near close up around your throat. No matter the situation, where, why or who actually initiated the encounter, he always ended up taking charge and manhandling you like you wouldn’t allow anyone else to do. Because fuck, who wouldn’t want this man to throw them around like a fucking ragdoll?

“Oh trust me baby, I need you too. Like so fucking bad. I wanted nothing but to grab you and bend you over somewhere when I saw you again. I thought I lost you and—” Rick took a deep breath, his fingers brushing right under your pulse as he looked up at you, a wild look in his eyes, much like your own. “I just want to fuck you ‘till you feel me for fucking days. But I don't— eh.. I don’t wanna hurt you.” He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes falling on the bandages on your shoulder and collarbone, right when he had just cured your wounds.

How was it that this man, the man that had you soaking through your pants with some kisses and some grabbing, could also be the sweetest and most caring guy you’ve ever met? He was so painfully hard under you, you could feel it every time you shifted, he was tense and stiff as fuck like it was fucking painful so sit there, with you on his lap. And yet, he’d rather stay that way just so he wouldn’t hurt you any more.

Fuck this man was going to be the fucking death of you.

“Rick I don’t fucking care. Hurt me, make me fucking scream, I don’t care. Like please fucking do. I just want you to fuck me ‘til I cry, please.”

You were sure that man actually rolled his eyes back and a sharp breath left his mouth like something had just fucking snapped in his head. You felt him shudder and his cock actually twitched under you, and when he opened his eyes again, his mouth was on you before you could even breathe. He kissed you so hard it actually took your breath away, but you happily matched his intensity. You gasped when you suddenly felt him stand up, with you wrapped around his waist and large hands squeezing your ass as he held you. You had no idea where he was going, you guessed he was just getting away from everybody because he didn’t stop until you were merely surrounded by trees and the lighting from the camp was faintly illuminating from afar.

“I’d hate for any of these dumbasses to walk in on this, because there’s no fucking way I’m stoppin' until you’re coming around my cock.” He rumbled against your mouth, his lips moving down to your neck, sucking and kissing the tender skin there, not satisfied until he knew he left a pretty good mark to admire the next morning. To say that you were absolute puddy in his hands was a fucking understament. You were aching for him, so much that the little friction that you got from brushing against his front was enough to make you whine.

“Fuck,” you slurred, a shiver slightly prickling your skin when you felt your bare back hit a tree. And with you back being pressed against it, Rick could easily press himself against you, chest against chest, and fuck if only he’d stop brushing the hard on behind his pants against your center, it was driving you insane.

“I swear to God Y/N if you ever do that to me again.” He grabbed your jaw again, drawing you into yet another desperate and frenzied kiss. It was different, earlier it was you that was being desperate, needing to feel him, but this time when he kissed you, you felt that same exact desperation, need, hunger, hell even anger, you felt it all in one. It was like the realization that you could’ve died had just hit him, and he didn’t know what to do with that. “For as long as I am your commander you are not leaving my damn sight. Ever. You understand?” He used his Colonel voice on you, pulling away from your mouth to look dead at you, as if he needed to emphasize his words with the hard look in his eyes.

“Yeah.” you breathed out, already breathless and disheveled. “Loud and clear, Colonel.”

“Good girl.” He praised you in a way that made you pool in your underwear even more. Fuck did you love that.

Rick tapped the side of your thigh, signaling you to let go and without a word he set you down on your feet, quickly working with the zipper and belt of you pants, fumbling with them for a second before popping them open. He slid his hand inside, slipping right into your underwear until his hand was cupping the pool between your legs. Your mouth hung wide open and your eyes rolled into the back of your head when you felt one of Rick’s long and thick fingers slip through your folds, gathering the wetness there only to spread it over your clit.

“Damn, you’re dripping all over my fingers and I’ve barely touched you. You got all wet from a little kissin' and a bit of dirty talkin'?” He chuckled smugly, his words coming out low and dirty as watched the way your face contorted when he slipped a single one of his thick fingers into you. He almost growled when he felt your walls tighten around the digit, he could only imagine how it would feel when you were wrapped around his cock instead.

“Fuck baby, look how you’re already so tight. You’re gonna take me so well aren’t you? You’re gonna be a good girl and take my cock, hm?” He drawled, leaning down to speak his sinful and filthy words right into your ear in a way that just made your knees fucking weak.

You couldn’t get yourself to breathe right, let alone speak. You choked out, nothing but a pitiful moan leaving your lips in response as another wave of wetness pooled out of you, seeping right into his hand. And he fucking laughed, so proud of the reaction he knew his mere words got out of you.

“You like it when I call you a good girl? Because you’re my good little girl, aren’t you?” He continued whispering smugly into your ear, knowing it was making you tremble right under his fingers. You merely nodded feverishly at his words because right then, he slipped another finger in and began scissoring them. His wrist snapping each time he thrusted his fingers into you despite the restraint of your pants. You were nearly seeing fucking stars then.

“You know I’m the Colonel’s good girl.” You barely moaned out, eyes rolling so far back into your head that he probably only saw white when you felt his thick digits brush against your most sensitive spot, starting the recoil in the pit of your stomach. So close. So fucking close, if only he—

“Fuck yeah you are.” He chuckled smugly, pride taking over his features when he saw the utter look of ecstasy in your face, only to take it away merely seconds before you could see stars.

The look on your face was fucking priceless too. You felt your whole soul leave your body when his fingers suddenly left you, leaving you empty and chasing for a high that never came. You were breathless and wide eyed, staring at Rick like you were going to rip his spine out. He had to press a long kiss to your pouty lips because he knew you’d slap the smug smirk off his face if he didn’t.

“Don’t hit me.” He laughed against your lips, his smug but cheeky smile almost made you want to forgive him. Almost.

“The hell was that for? Fucking asshole, you can’t leave a girl hanging like that.” You scoffed loudly, raising your open palm but he dropped to his knees in front of you before you could actually do anything. Oh.

"Who said I was going to leave you like that?" He smirked like he had a devilish plan in mind. And he did, because in a matter of seconds he was pulling your pants and underwear clean off your legs, leaving you pretty much bare. "If you were absolutely dripping with my fingers, I fucking need you to drip on my tongue like that."

And suddenly you were no longer angry. Anger? The hell was that? All you knew was being a fucking shaking mess for Rick Flag.

“Rick wait—” you shuddered when you felt him fan his warm breath right against your clit, making your knees slightly buck under your weight.

“Hm?” He hummed as he looked up at you, casually grabbing your ankle and throwing your leg over his shoulder. Fuck that sight of him, on his knees, with his head between your legs and hazel eyes turned brown staring up at you. It made you so weak you could barely get your words out.

“Rick uhm, maybe you shouldn’t uh, y’know, here, the others and uhm-”

“You’re getting shy on me, Y/N? You’re scared these idiots might see me with my head buried between your legs? Or hear you moan for me? Is that it?” He asked almost mockingly, making fun of how you were suddenly shy, when you’ve probably fucked just about everywhere possible. Public or otherwise. “You know I won’t do anything you don’t want. I’ll stop if that’s what you want, baby.”

Was it really?

Was the sudden feeling of shame and shyness from being out in the jungle and the squad of misfits being within earshot enough to make you want to throw away the sight of the Colonel with his head between your legs? When you could be dead tomorrow and this could be the last time you felt this man take you as he pleased?

Fuck no. Fuck shame, fuck shyness. This man was worth it.

“Fuck no. Do whatever the hell you want. I really need you.” The way this man actually bit his lip when he looked down and caught the sight of your dripping cunt had to be fucking illegal. LIke no man should ever look that hot. The sight alone made you want to scream.

But you’d be screaming soon enough. Before your mind could register anything, Rick was diving forward, his mouth closing over your heat as he licked a long stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit. The tip of his tongue circled expertly around the bundle of nerves before his lips closed around it, sucking hard. The cry that he incited from you echoed throughout the trees, anyone within 20 feet of you probably heard it, but you did not fucking care. Your hand instantly flew to his short hair, gripping at whatever you could get hold of as he worked with his tongue. He alternated between long licks, smooth kitty licks and sucking on your clit, anything to drive you wild. Though as if you weren’t already. You had no idea how you were even holding yourself up because your legs were shaking so much. Your sense of reality had long abandoned you, hell, you couldn’t even think about anything other than his tongue and how good he was making you feel.

“Fuck— God fuck Rick.” You choked out a moan, not even being able to get the sound out. You knew it wouldn’t take long before you were seeing stars again, I mean, you knew Rick wouldn’t stop until you did. That was his mission, and Rick Flag always accomplished his mission. He just wasn’t holding back, he worked with his mouth like a starved man, lapping up your juices as he continued to flick his tongue.

For a moment his thumb came to replace his tongue, spreading the wetness around your clit with quick and sharp circles. He used that moment to catch a glimpse of you, and he swore he felt his cock twitch at the sight of you, jaw hanging open, eyes screwed shut, legs shaking, knowing you were so close.

“Did I ever tell you just how fucking pretty you look from down here? And you look even prettier when you come for me. You gonna do that baby? You gonna be a good girl and come for me?” Goddamn his words were so filthy, his voice was so low and raspy you wanted to come right there and there. Hell, you were going to, your whole body was on fire, you were hot and sweaty, you were a shaking mess as you tried to chase your high. You couldn’t really respond verbally anymore, you didn’t even remember what words were. So you simply nodded desperately, tugging at the longer strands of hair, not so subtly telling him to get his mouth on you. With a low laugh he did.

Before you knew it, Rick was diving in again, gripping the thigh over his shoulder, fingers digging deep into the skin as his mouth closed around your clit and his expert tongue flicked eight figures around the sensitive bud. You were so close you were even bucking your hips, trying to get as much friction as you could. Rick chuckled when you did, sending short vibrations right against you. Just a bit more.

You completely lost it when he started shaking his head from side to side, hot tongue flicking non-stop, and that’s when you really saw stars. Your vision became blurry, your jaw dropped, a loud cry of his name escaping your throat as your whole body trembled under his fingers. He had to hold you then because when your body stopped spasming against the tree, the leg you were standing on slightly gave up and your knees buckled.

“That’s it. Good girl. Such a good fucking girl for me.” Rick praised as he pulled away from you wet center, pressing small kisses to your inner thigh until you came down from your high, breathing short and heavy. When you opened your eyes, you looked down, and you were met with the filthiest sight ever. The wetness from you was smeared all over his chin and mouth when he pulled away, and you caught him wiping the glistening slick with the back of his hand before his eyes caught yours, and that filthy and mischievous look in them was always so rare to see. He’d save that side of himself for when he was with you. Thank fucking God for that.

“Looking as hot as you do should be fucking ilegal.” You muttered as you watched him stand up to his full height, all 6’2 of him. Damn, he looked even taller when you were slouched against a tree like that. He caught your comment, and he laughed, slightly licking what remained of you on his lips, damn near feeling proud of himself.

“Yeah, I can say the same. That sight from down there? Fucking criminal, no wonder you're on my team.” He caught your mouth again, you could taste yourself in his tongue, but you didn’t care, you kinda liked it actually. As his mouth worked against yours, you took that time to fumble with his belt, you were still shaking but you managed to unbuckle it, the zipper quickly following, undoing it enough so that you could tug them off his hips. When you did, only leaving his boxers in the way, you pulled back, finally tugging that ridiculous shirt off his body.

“Literally fuck that shirt.” You groaned softly, leaving lingering kisses across his chest as you sneaked your hand down and palmed him through his boxers. And he was hard as hell. You had no idea how he managed to get you through an orgasm and not lose his shit in the process. Well, you figured he would now. Because the second he felt your hand, his cock twitched under your touch and a guttural groan rumbled in his chest.

“Don’t fucking play with me.” He growled, his tone suddenly dropping as he grabbed your wrists, the way his whole demeanor suddenly change making you shudder, “baby I swear to god if I don’t fuck you right now I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.” The urgency in his low, raspy voice was enough to make you nod quickly, not another word leaving your mouth. Well, aside from the gasp that left your lips when he turned you around and pressed your front right up against the tree, your only embrace being your own hands.

Before you knew it, you felt him press his bare chest flush against your back, a hand on your hip, while the other rested just above your uninjured shoulder blade, and you knew you had to brace yourself. Damn right you did, because without a warning or even a heads up, he slid right into you, your walls instantly tightening around his thick length. Your eyes instantly rolled into the back of your head, mouth hanging open as a broken cry left your lips, feeling him bury himself to the hilt, not giving you time to adjust or anything. Not that you needed to, you were used to his size, still it always took you a minute to get used to. He always knew you needed a couple of seconds to adjust, so he stilled inside you, chest pressed against your back as he buried his face into your shoulder blades, lips dragging along your skin.

After a second or two, you nodded, reaching behind you to tap his shoulder, signaling he could start moving. You didn’t even have to say it, because right then, he pulled himself almost all the way out, making you feel empty for just a moment, but it was only a second because he quickly snapped his hips, nearly making you scream when he bottomed himself out. He gave you a moan of his own, a low, deep one, right into your ear when he felt your walls clenched around him again.

“Goddamn,” he cursed through gritted teeth, eyes screwed shut as he found a pace, hips snapping with every one of his thrusts, “you’re so fucking tight. Fuck.” He let the words out in a low groan, voice raspy in a way that probably made you squeeze him harder.

Eventually Rick found a rhythm, a quick pace where each thrust dragged along your walls, bottomed him out and started it all over, over and over again. His jaw was hanging wide open, eyes opening and closing as he pounded into you forcefully, each time he had to hold you tighter so your body wouldn’t scratch up against the tree and potentially hurt you. He was doing most of the work. You? Well, you were trying to focus on bracing yourself against the tree without falling face first into it from the forcefulness of Rick’s thrusts. But it was really hard to focus on keeping yourself upright when Rick’s cock brushed perfectly against your most sensitive spot each time he buried himself to the hilt.

You did your best to meet his thrust, pushing back against him, your back was arched against his chest and the sound of slapping skin filled your ears in a way that was almost intoxicating. It left you squirming, shaking so much as the feeling of it all overwhelmed your senses, it was just so much, and it felt so good you knew you wouldn’t last long, especially not with the way Rick’s thrusts only got more precise and rougher. You couldn’t even keep up with him when he picked up speed, so then you were just along for the ride.

“Fuck,” you choked, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut, “fuck Rick, don’t stop. God, please, please, Rick, don’t fucking stop.” You basically begged, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach again. You had no idea what that man saw, or heard, or what went through his head then, but he let out the most erotic and guttural moan you have ever heard as he slipped the hand from your shoulder to your neck, long fingers closing around your throat and he fucking squeezed, knocking the air out of you. You opened your eyes in shock, only to let them roll into the back of your head, choked out cry barely leaving your throat. You must’ve squeezed him hard because his jaw completely dropped and his own eyes rolled back, a damn near pornografic moan coming out his mouth.

“Oh, fuck. That’s it huh? Is that what my good girl likes, hm?” He did it again, his fingers tightened around your throat, damn near leaving you without air, and fuck did you like it. The way he could absolutely manhandle you and cause you pain mixed with the way he pounded into you like you were just a ragdoll, that really threw you over the edge.

You wished you would have warned the poor guy, but the minute he squeezed your throat again you lost it, you came hard, a choked out version of his name leaving you lips over and over until your throat closed up and you were nothing but a shaking, shuddering mess. You were absolutely fucked out, breathless, you body nearly gave out then, but a muscular arm wrapped itself around your middle and pressed your back flush against his chest as he held you down on him, the feeling of you clenching so tight around him triggering his own release and he went rigid, stilling inside you as he spilled himself into you. You felt him shudder against you, a low and damn near erotic moan of your name fell on your ear like a broken record as he came.

You were both so breathless, your sweat slick skin sticking to each other as you both took a couple of seconds to come down from your highs, the pleasure of it always being so much you could barely function properly after. You didn’t know about Rick, but you were absolutely spent, fucked out and exhausted. He probably was too. After all, you’ve gotten shot, tortured, thrown around and now fucked, you didn’t know how either of you were still standing. But hey, at least you were both together, in each other’s arms for another night, because tomorrow? Who knows.

Though as much as you loved being held by the pair of muscular tattooed arms, you figured you had to pull away from each other eventually, to clean up at least. So after trying to get his breathing back to normal, Rick unwrapped himself from you before pulling out you, a sharp whimper leaving your mouth when he did so. You had to embrace yourself against the tree as you turned around, because you could not trust your legs to keep you up.

“You look like someone just fucked the lights out of you.” Rick laughed lowly, proudly eyeing the mess he made of you. I mean, your face was flushed and slick with sweat, hair completely disheveled and messy, then there was your neck, man your neck. He had to linger on those, there was a very visible print of five fingers around your throat, his fingers, he did that. He was honestly kinda proud. “That looks good on you, by the way.”

You brushed your fingers over your neck, slightly wincing when you touched the tender skin, you couldn’t help but shoot the soldier a glare, knowing those fingerprints would not go away anytime soon. You flipped him off before you grabbed your pants and underwear from the ground, not bothering to clean your mess yet, you’d do that when you weren’t bare assed in the middle of the jungle. You quickly pulled them up your legs, Rick did the same. But when you looked up he was still shirtless, looking for that damn shirt. Shame, you would love it if he just stayed like that.

“So here I was, trying to be a gentleman and not hurt you, and you wanted me to choke you. Good to know.” He notted to himself. When you turned around after finding his shirt on the ground, you saw the huge smug smirk on his face, he looked so proud too. You couldn’t help but blush in plain embarrassment that he’d call you out like that.

“Shut the fuck up, don’t you dare say that out loud ever again.” You huffed, throwing the shirt right at his face. He caught it, but he bursted out into laughter. And loud, like he found it really fucking hilarious. But you sure as hell didn’t.

“I’m serious Rick, if you ever tell anyone I’m gonna shove shards of glass in your ears while you sleep.” You threatened, narrowing your eyes at him, trying to sound as intimidating as possible, but this man literally fucked the shit out of you mere minutes ago, you were not intimidating him.

“Yeah, alright sweetheart ” He laughed, shaking his head at you dismissively as he got the shirt over his head. Your eyes instantly landed on his tattooed arms for a second while you could still see them, that always being a part of him you always found yourself admiring. And of course, he caught you staring. “C’mere.”

You pouted and sighed heavily, rolling your eyes but did as he said anyway, hugging his middle and resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him. He wrapped an arm around you as leaned down, pressing a long loving kiss to your forehead before he spoke.

“I hope you know I meant it when I said you’re never leaving my side again. I can’t lose you, I don’t want to. I want to be able to hold you in my arms like this as long as I’m alive, and I can’t take any chances of some sons of bitches taking you away from me. And if that means I have to find a way to get you off this fucking task force, I will. Is that clear?” You knew he was being serious, he was using his Colonel voice, his eyes were hard, but at the same time they had this fond look in the, like he was looking at the most important things in the world to him. More important than serving his country, more important than any threat your squad was sent to take care of, you were more important than any of that. And if keeping safe meant standing to Amanda Waller, Rick would do it in a heartbeat. And you knew that

“Loud and clear, Colonel.”

Jake Lockley NSFW Alphabet (Reposted)

A/N: This fic kept on glitching whenever I tried to post it and I just kept getting mad about it. I then forgot about it and decided I might as well post it now. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,374

Warning: This is Smut! Minors DNI!!

A = Aftercare (What They're Like After Sex)

Jake is pretty chill after sex. He likes to smoke and hardly ever covers his lower half with a sheet. He doesn't care for modesty in truth. Jake will hold you close and whispers sweet nothings in Spanish. Jake also licks you clean and tells you that he loves fucking you. Jake lowkey wants to tell you he loves you but can never voice it. 

B = Body Part (Their Body Of Theirs and Their Partner's that they like) 

Jake is very proud of his hands. He loves seeing them covered in blood, and he loves when that blood gets onto your tits. 

Jake loves your thighs and legs. He's always staring at them; given the chance, he will always have his hands on your thighs. Jake especially loves thick thighs. He can spend hours kissing your thighs before he decides to even attack your pussy. 

C = Cum (Anything to Do with Cum; basically, I'm Nasty)

FUCK! JAKE LOVES CUM! He can eat it all day. He loves to overstimulation you and just watches the come leak out of you. He can spend hours watching your beautiful cunt leak his come. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty Self Explanatory, A Dirty Secret of Theirs)

Jake wants to impregnate you. But he'll never admit it, and he pretends to hate kids. In reality, he does want kids and would love to see you bear his future children. 

E = Experience (How Experience are They? Do They Know What They're Doing?)

Hell yeah, Jake knows what he's doing. Jake practically invented sex! Jake has had a lot of sex. 

F = Favorite Positions (This Goes Without Saying)

Doggy style, sixty-nine, and reverse cowgirl. These are Jake Lockley's all-time favorite positions to fuck you in. 

Doggy style is unique because Jake feels so primal and feral that he will runt into your pussy like he's going to die in the morning. He will come all over your sheets and won't stop until y'all are completely soaked. 

Sixty-nine. He loves oral. Jake loves getting his cock sucked and eating your pussy out. It is a fucking wonderful experience. 

Reverse cowgirl. Jake loves watching your ass glide back and forward. He loves gripping onto your hips and telling you to go faster. 

G = Goofy (Are They More Serious In The Moment? Are They Humorous? Etc.)

Not really goofy. It's more like it's very serious. I don't think Jake can be goofy unless he's making a sex joke, not during sex. Jake is just usually very serious during the moment. 

H = Hair (How Well Groomed Are They? Does The Carpet Match The Drapes? Etc.)

Jake doesn't buy into that manscaping bullshit. He prefers to let his secret hairs grow out, and he loves when you pull on them. 

I = Intimacy (How Are They During the Moment? The Romantic Aspect)

Jake is almost always romantic during the moment. He's a flirt, and it's in his nature to pleasure his s/o with sweet words and physically. Jake usually lights candles for his beloved and rubs lotion on them after sex. He spends a lot of time rubbing lotion on your tits. It's his favorite place to put lotion. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Jake usually jacks off in his cab. It would be in private cause if he did that with someone in the back of the cab, that'd be shitty. He has this spot he usually stops at when he's feeling aroused. It's a parking lot that no one uses. He typically watches a video to get him in the mood. Or he facetime you and jacks off.  

K = Kink (One or More of Their Kinks)

Dom Daddy and little girl and teacher (him being the teacher) and student (you being the student) are his favorites. He's a very dominant guy in the bedroom, and he hates not being in control. He loves calling you baby girl and will constantly tease you. 

L = Location (Favorite Places to Do the Deed)

Mainly in his cab or at your apartment. Jake will fuck you wherever, whenever. But he does like some sort of privacy because he doesn't want to share you or have other men look at your naked body. Honestly, Jake wants to kill your exes because they've seen you naked, and that just pisses him off cause he doesn't like the idea of anyone knowing what you look like naked. That's for him to know and others to wonder about. He's pretty possessive. 

M = Motivation (What Gets them Turn on, What Gets Them Going)

Jake is always horny. He is just really good at hiding it. If you're horny, he's ready to get freaky. 

N = No (Something They Wouldn't do, Turn Offs)

Jake doesn't let people watch y'all fuck. If he finds out Steven was watching, he gets hella pissed. (I headcanon that Steven and Jake hate each other, but one day they become buddies. Kinda like what happened with Marc and Steven. But with more yelling and more Spanish swear words. Plus, more death.) 

O = Oral (Preferences in Giving and Receiving, Skill, Etc.)

Loves giving and receiving oral. Jake wants to die while eating you out. 

P = Pace (Are They Fast and Rough? Slow and Sensual? Etc.)

Jake doesn't have a speed. He'll go whatever speed you want. But he does love it rough. 

Q = Quickies (Their Opinion on Quickie, How Often, Etc.)

Y'all usually fuck before Jake goes to work. He typically sleeps in, so y'all usually fuck in the shower. It's always rushed, and for the most part, you're putting shampoo in his hair while he's pounding into you. 

R = Risk (Are They Game to Experiment? Do They Like Taking Risks? Etc.)

Jake fucks in his cab all the time; of course, he loves to experiment and take risks. He loves the idea of being caught but will be cautious to not get caught. 

S = Stamina (How Many Rounds Can They Go For? How Long Do They Last?)

Jake only gets tired after fighting. Otherwise, he'll be fucking you for as long as you want. I think he can last five rounds in a day. Maybe nine rounds. But he can't do nine again the next day because that pushing it. 

T = Toys (Do They Own Any Toys? Do They Use Them? On A Partner or Themselves?)

TOYS! JAKE LOVES THEM! He loves cuffing you, tying you up, and using vibes and dildos on you. He likes using toys more than having them be used on himself. 

U = Unfair (How Much Do They Like To Tease?)

JAKE LOVES TEASING! He typically ties you up and makes to come until you beg for him to stop. He's always putting his fingers in your pussy when y'all are watching Netflix. At family dinners, he'll fingerfuck you while telling your crazy aunt off about how her political opinion is incorrect. 

V = Volume (How Loud They Are, What Sounds They Make. Etc.)

Jake will grunt a lot during sex. He only speaks Spanish in the bedroom and will growl when you come around him. Everything about sex with Jake is loud. 

W = Wild Card (A Random Headcanon For The Character)

Jake probably asks Khonshu to watch y'all fuck. Even though Jake hates the idea of anyone watching you fuck he allows Khonshu to watch each time. This is because Khonshu is his buddy and wants to brag about how well he can dick you down. Khonshu is usually speechless while watching. Sometimes, he'll suggest to Jake that he should eat you out more. Or tell him to switch positions. 

X = X-ray (Let's See What's Going Under Those Clothes)

Jake is thick. He is very gritty, and his cock makes your mouth water each time you see it. 

Y = Yearning (How High Is There Sex Drive?)

VERY HIGH! Jake loves fucking and is ready whenever you are ready. 

Z = Zzz (How Quickly They Fall Asleep Afterwards)

Jake has terrible insomnia. He hardly sleeps; when he does, it's typically restless sleep full of nightmares. He just prefers to hold you and smoke for hours after sex. 

By: Marianna | 

Library Appreciation : Clementinum, Prague (National Library of the Czech Republic)

Books I’m Reading Right Now:

Made You Up - Francesca Zappia

Eleanor & Park - Rainbow Rowell

Ready Player One - Ernest Cline

Looking for Alaska - John Green