Code Name Punchline: Rick Flag x Reader

Uniform - Rick Flag x Reader

You'd asked for Rick Flag to come to your cell for a reason.

...He just didn't know what that reason was.

"Fine."

"Fine, what?"

"Fine," you spat out, struggling with the words. "Fine, I'll join the stupid Homicide Squad-"

"Suicide Squad."

"Yeah, yeah, Suicide Squad. I'll do it. One mission, at least."

Rick nods.

"Okay, well... it's a start."

He offered his hand to you, and you stared at it blankly.

"What's this?"

"A hand. We just made a deal - we shake."

Reluctantly, you shook his hand, and he helped you up.

"Besides, I have somewhere to get you to."

"Where are we going?"

Rick laughs.

"Well, if you're gonna be on a team - you gotta wear the uniform."

...

Rick wasn't kidding.

Harley was the unofficial costume designer of the Suicide Squad, and every new teammate had their costume designed by her - the ones that didn't run around in flashy jumpsuits already, anyway. In all your days fighting the Joker, you'd never dressed up.

"Oh, puddin'," Harley gushed, circling around you. "Oh, this is gonna be so much fun-"

Rick was very, very lucky that you already liked Harley, or you would have killed her. The two of you had bonded over the fact that you both loathed the Joker, and rather than feeling jealous of you for being her replacement, she'd taken pity on you and adopted you as... well, somewhat of a little sister.

"Nothing too flashy, Harls," you begged, realizing you were fully at her mercy. Harley Quinn was many things, but she wasn't subtle. You didn't want to look like, well -

A clown.

"Let's start here, huh - your codename. Punchline. Punchy. Something subtle, sure, yeah - black!"

Black. Black sounded good. That could be chic, elegant-

"Purple!"

"No, Harls, no purple-"

Harley huffed.

"Do you want Rick to notice you, or what-"

You put your hand over her mouth, keeping her from continuing. You were, maybe, the only person who could muffle Harley Quinn without being immediately killed.

"Harley, there's nothing between me and Flag. Nothing. I swear. Besides, he's our boss-"

"...That's hot."

You sighed, and she ducked under your arm, taking your measurements.

"Okay, so, no purple, got it - black's okay, though - how about some red?"

"That's really more your thing, Harley."

"Got it, got it, yellow! Black and yellow!"

"I'll look like a bumblebee, Harley."

"A smokin' hot bumblebee."

You rolled your eyes, and she nodded.

"Okay. Okay. I got some thoughts." She scribbled a child's drawing on a piece of paper, and presented it to you.

It wasn't... horrible.

"Not bad, Harley," you said. "Not bad."