#femalefilmaker

"What on Earth are you doing back there?"

You pry your eyes from the light of your tablet, craning your neck to look at the man lying beside you- or rather- behind you. You shift on your stomach over the sheets, your soft shirt riding up slightly to expose your belly, your middle.

Rick's angular jaw is a sharp, hard line against the soft curve of your hip. He pays you no mind as he drags it over your back. You let out a breathy chuckle as his stubble scratches over your skin.

"Have I been ignoring you too long, Rick Flag?" You murmur. The man hums.

He props himself on an elbow to reach the space that slopes downward- the place where your back ends and the swell of your ass begins. Drawing his lips together, you can't see from the corner of your eye, but you can feel his warm lips press a kiss where you know a small dark mark rests.

"I'm enjoyin' myself." He assures you. His hand reaches across your ass, a finger curling around the waistband of your lounge shorts to tug it down ever so slightly. You feel another kiss linger across the expanse of skin as Rick seems content to make his way across every inch of your backside.

Finally, you remove your glasses and turn over, and Rick doesn't hesitate to move his little mission along your exposed belly. His five o'clock shadow feels pleasant against the small paler lines that stripe their way vertically along your stomach. You watch as his hand sinks into your soft flesh- how he caresses your body with his thumb in soft, tender circles.

You've always marveled at Rick's wide hands- how his arms could envelop the parts of you that you knew were bigger than anyone he'd ever held before. And he seemed to marvel in the way every inch of you came together to form someone he could never get enough of. You slide your hand down your side, over the stretch marks that decorated you like finishing touches.

"You're in a mood." You note with a smirk. Your hand meets Rick's face where you cup that cutting jawline.

He mouths at your palm with closed eyes, a wet kiss sending a shiver from your wrist all the way to your chest. "Can't help it."

Rick shoots up from the bed then, getting up on his knees to coax you back around. You laugh at his sudden enthusiasm- at how quickly a pillow winds up under your belly before you're pressing your chest back down onto the mattress where you just were, your tablet and emails forgotten now. You sigh contentedly into the soft downy, your nipples firming up as your silky shirt rubs over your breasts.

Rick's fingers find their way back into your waistband- this time tugging your shorts and panties all the way down your thighs. You oblige him, spreading your knees apart to accomadate the man's large form as he discards your sleepwear over the edge of the bed. He lowers himself between you, his own long body slotting against you with ease. You smile as you feel his bare shoulders between your inner thighs, his shirt off and somewhere on the floor too.

He's all tongue and teeth as he starts with your ass, biting and sucking new marks over the natural ones that decorate you. He takes his time as he sucks a mark over the fleshiest part, pulling away with a wet sound. Rick Flag could never get enough of your ass and you could never bring yourself to deny him.

He makes his way across and down, even pulling another welt from the skin of your inner thigh, and the action makes you gasp. You spread your knees a little wider then, drawing a chuckle out of Rick as you push yourself back against his mouth.

The seam of your sex is glistening by the time Rick finally flicks his tongue out and takes a swipe at your wet folds. You hum and press your grin into another pillow at the head of the bed.

"How am I makin' you feel, darlin'?" He asks, a smile on his lips. He nuzzles his mouth against your folds before you can answer, tongue dipping again to steal a taste from deeper inside you. You grip at the pillow- bundle it up as you bury your grin in it.

Rick's hand snakes it's way up between your thighs. You give him a surprised squeal when his thumb presses to your clit.

"Rick," His name melts off your tongue. He massages the bundle of nerves in easy circles, the rest of his fingers threading through the soft thatch of hair around it.

All the while, Rick thrusts his tongue into you deeper; each stroke raises the goosebumps over your skin as you begin to heat up quickly.

Rick groans when your hips roll, pressing you to his face. You cry out when his tongue leaves your entrance, the wet muscle replacing his thumb at your clit. He swirls it around, dragging it up to dip into you again, but keeps going. You moan when he glides past the space between your entrance and the tight ring of muscle above it.

Rick adjusts his position, lifting his arms out from between you. He settles his biceps on your thighs as he takes you in both his hands, spreading you apart carefully. You buck when you're met with his tongue pushing past the ring of muscle.

You wobble on your knees. Rick loved to take you apart like this- loved to patiently coax every kind of sound he could from you with every little stroke of his tongue or fingers or cock. He pins his arosual between his belly and the sheets, content with the friction as he rolled his own hips against the bed with every stroke of his tongue.

You whine when Rick licks another long stripe, all the way down this time, circling back at your swollen clit. You clench around nothing as he spreads your lips wide with his thumbs, lapping up at the juices that have gushed from your center.

"Taste so fuckin' good, baby." He says, taking a moment to drag his stubble against your inner thigh. He gives another lick from entrance to entrance, and you arch your back until your hips can't lift any higher.

"Please, Rick." You whimper, rolling your hips to find that warm, smirking mouth. Rick leans in to meet you, and you yelp when parted lips latches onto your clit and give a long, hard suck. He slips to fingers into your wet entrance slowly and curls them. As he starts pumping them in and out of you, you begin to pant, a high whine leaving you with every breath as you repeat his name over and over.

You come with your fingers fisting the sheets. With your knees spread so wide and his fingers working you so deeply- Rick knows exactly how to pleasure you until you're gushing, the stream of liquid hitting his tongue and dribbling down his chin onto the bed. You shudder, eyes rolling up into your head as his tongue continues to circle around your clit until your hips stutter and you whimper.

Rick bites one of your cheeks. One last bite before he's on his knees again. He crawls over your body, until he can kiss your neck, your jaw. You turn, grabbing both sides of his face to kiss him deeply, stealing a low growl from him. You don't miss the way his length rests thick and warm against the cleft of your ass. You reach behind yourself, wrapping your fingers around his arousal. He bucks, twitching in your palm.

"That was nice." You tease breathily. He grins, "Sure was."

You stroke him a few times, loving the way his hips roll under your simple ministrations. He groans against your neck, burying his face there. Rick snakes an arm around your middle to squeeze your belly, squeeze your body closer to his as he grinds against you.

You press your thumb to the head of his cock and feel the bead of precum spread under your touch. The yelp you draw from the colonel at the action makes you grin.

"It's bullshit."

Rick's content to watch you pace around your kitchen, a small smile on his face. You had taken his plate before he even finished, ranting as you scraped the rest of his and your dinner into the trash. He learned a long time ago that whenever you got started like this, you tended to occupy your hands without thinking.

"I mean, who do they think they are?" You snap, your back to him now. A rhetorical question; You knew exactly what he was dealing with. It's a wonder to you how he didn't lose his mind every damn mission. Rick leans an elbow on the kitchen table, the other drawing his beer up to his smirking lips.

"Just the job, hon." Rick soothes before he takes a swig. You huff as you scrub at the dishes, your head shaking.

"The least they could do is give you the bonus. Especially after that shit show with the nuclear warheads."

Neither you nor Rick really cared about the money. You brought in a surprisingly steady amount yourself when it came to your bounties. It reflected your skill in a competitive black market. But Rick? He never did his job for the money.

But he knows you're heated over the principle of the thing— The risks he's willing to take versus the recognition he'll never receive.

It's a black ops unit, [Y/n]. They're not gonna put any shit I do in a newsletter, he's told you over and over, amused.

Despite that, Rick never imagined he'd meet someone outside Argus to tell all his secrets to. You knew about the squad, about Waller; Through the trust you shared or perhaps some sort of metahuman powers you haven't told him about yet, Rick was an uncharacteristically open book with you.

He did consider, however, that maybe it was just because he loved seeing you like this; Cocked and loaded and ready to take on even the fucking Wall if you ever got the chance to meet her. Not that he would let you. God help everyone else in the room if the two of you ever clashed.

That, and Rick has learned to keep this part of his life far away from Belle Reve and the task force. The pieces of you that wouldn't fly with any other partner— The traveling the world, the fake identities— It's a relief that he doesn't have to keep tabs on your safety. You're out from anyone's thumb before he can even track you down first half of the time.

Rick is already standing up and heading over to the cabinet where you keep the dishes, setting his bottle down on the counter top. You wipe each plate with heated vigor before shoving them at him as you continue. He places them up high, where you keep the good china (You only ever brought it out when he was around for dinner anyway).

"I'll drive down to that fucking prison, Flag."

"Yeah? You gonna hash it out with the sentries at the front gate?" He replies, already snorting at the idea of it. You purse your lips, shooting him a look, and it only makes him grin wider.

"I'm sure I'll figure something out." Your anger cuts with something diabolical, something way too determined for this joking conversation. Rick arches a brow down at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"If anyone's gonna get me fired before I ever get killed it would be you, wouldn't it?"

You shrug. The flame has lulled now—Still a simmer in your eyes— But now you're leveling him with that look. The one that's all adoration, mischief, and everything Rick Flag can't quite go long without anymore. Before he can humor the idea any longer, before he can really worry about the two halves of his life butting heads, Rick is unfolding his arms and pulling you into him. You slot comfortably between his parted legs as he leans back on the counter, his chin coming to rest down on the top of your head.

You sigh then, pressing your cheek to his firm chest.

Your work — your world — was always trying to overpower you. Big lug heads the size of Rick or bigger always thought they could brute force you around; You made it your life's work to take their underestimation and shove it up their asses. But not with Rick. You feel yourself relax as his body folds around you. He was nearly twice your bodyweight, but you never felt more equal somehow.

That didn't stop the goosebumps your your skin when he drags his nails softly down your back, of course. You shiver at the way his single, splayed hand nearly covers your entire back.

"What was I saying?" Your catchphrase in the middle of these kinds of rants. You feel Rick's deep chuckle against your ear.

"You were gettin' over it."

You yelp when his muscular arms scoop you up by the waist, tossing you easily over his shoulder.

"Richard Flag!" You protest. You bite back a grin as you lean down over his back to slap the seat of his pants.

"Yes, Ma'am?" His tone is far too innocent. He returns the gesture, slapping the back of your thigh playfully. It takes him just a few of those long strides across your apartment to the bedroom.

Rick throws you down onto the bed, hardly giving you any time to laugh before he's taking his tight shirt off with one, swift tug and making his way up your body. He laughs when you take his shirt from him and give it a little twirl around your head.

He lays down over you, framing your smaller form with his. You hum, excited and still fired up from earlier; Rick is only kissing your neck for a moment before you're slipping out from under his body and using his own weight to flip him over. You bracket your thighs around his head, grinning down at him.

"Jesus Christ." He breathes, gripping both your legs through your jeans. He's aiming the kind of smile up at you that makes your knees weak— Not that you weren't already having a seat.

As much as you didn't mean your stupid threat of breaking your way into Argus's base and wreaking havoc on the assholes in charge, you still meant every word of your devotion. You lean down, threading your fingers through his soft hair. What wouldn't you do for him?

"Hope you don't have a job tonight, baby." He murmurs, kissing the inside of your thigh. He does it again, his eyes falling closed as he nosed against the fabric. "Have a feeling I'm gonna be showin' you how much I've missed you all night."

Afterwards— after he's brought you over the edge again and again as promised— you grin to yourself, breathless, when he finally falls on top of you, exhausted. You're content to sigh into the sheets like that for awhile, the sound of your shared breathing the only thing left in the room.

Eventually, you grumble as Rick presses his face into the pillow above you, his weight pinning you to the mattress heftily.

"Rick." You mutter, voice muffled. When he doesn't stir, you reach around to slap at his bare waist. "You're still in me, dummy."

"Yeah?" He says, like he doesn't fucking love the warm, tight feeling of you around him, even now. You huff again, rolling your eyes. At this rate you’ll need another round.

But you're too in love with the way he's relaxing behind you, his muscles physically letting go of all the tension you know he carries with him everywhere he goes. Your own eyes flutter after awhile; You drift off for a moment or two in the soft silence.

Rick finally moves. You startle, bemused when he wraps his arms around you and tilts you both over so that he can keep holding you, keep his face nestled in the locks of hair at the back of your head. You wrap your arms around Ricks' in return.

"You want me to get up?" He asks you eventually, sleepily. You grip him tighter, nuzzling back against his body firmly.