#George digger harkness imagine

[justanoasisimagines]

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Summary; After being released from Prison, George is reunited with you and meets his daughter for the first time. Pairing; George "Digger" Harkness x Female Reader WordCount; 529 A/N; Day 12 of my Heroes versus Villians Event. Thank you to everyone who's liked and reblogged so far it means everything! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

George checked the address written on the crumpled piece of paper. He was definitely in the right place. He straightened out his clothes ran a gloved hand through his beard removed the beanie from his head.

Cautiously, George took each step at a time. His heart raced as he made it toward the large red door. Stealing was less nerve-wracking than this.

Perhaps it was because George knew what he was expecting. He'd experienced almost every possibility. Enjoyed the thrill of the chase. Loved the planning and the reward.

Except this was something else. This was you and him. Raw and passionate. Warmth and real. This was the aspect of his life he cherished above anything else. George would protect you to the death. He'd been locked away from you. He clawed at the walls to get back to you. You and his little girl.

A daughter he hadn't been there for. Hadn't met. Did she have your eyes or his? What did she like? What made her laugh? Had anyone made her cry? George didn't know.

The large red door felt miles away as George reached the top of the staircase. Too many possibilities. Too much time had past. What would your reaction be?

George bowed his head muttering words of encouragement. He could do this. Raising his hand, he knocked three firm times. Goerge heard a rustling behind the door. The unlocking over several heavy locks. One last inhale and exhale before there you stood, locking as radiant as ever. "Sweetheart." Your eyes widened almost comically as you held onto the door. Eyes searching absorbing as neither one of you said anything. "Mama! A little girl came running towards your calf in quick succession you placed her firmly on your hip. Immediately she began to play with the dainty silver chain around your neck, a heart pendant in the center.

The necklace he gave you on your fourth date. There was hope. George observed your eyes glass over as he cautiously stepped into your space. An arm gingerly wrapped around you as your head as your head buried into the collar of his jacket. His little girl was completely none the wiser. George felt the missing part of him align back into place as she circled his arms around you both. Silent sobs wrecked through your body as George placed his head on top of yours whispering gentle words. Eventually, you pulled away, when the little girl began to squirm in your arms. George presented her with his best smile as he took her into his arms. The scent of strawberry shampoo captured his senses. He was met with a curiosity in her eyes that matched his own, yet the smile that replaced it was yours. A perfect combination in George's eyes. He hoped she had your heart and his mischief. He needed someone to cause trouble with. A reluctant hand held out for you as you took it. There was a lot to discuss. A lot to figure out. George didn't know the first thing about being a father but he'd learn. But as long as he had his girls by his side, he'd be all right.

[thequeenofuselessinformation]

Mind the gap (between his ears)

[timethehobo]

Sketch. Wish the game was brave enough to properly wound the Squad after fighting a League member at the very least. Would’ve upped the stakes imo.

[gilverrwrites]

Hello could you please do some captain boomerang headcanon fluff, I don’t see enough of it on here.

AN: I can and I will. Good fluffy vibes only today, however, if you would like a reality check, please watch the video linked at the end.

Rating: General (however, wanting for swearing)

Please remember: Everything you're worried about, is going to turn out ok.

Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Request Info

He’s not much for texting, much prefers sending voice notes. These can range anywhere from simple good night/good morning notes, the longest, most pointless, probably drunken rambles, jokes he stole came up with, or professions of love.

When he texts, it’s always in 90s/early 00s style and full of emojis that don’t quite mean what he thinks they do.

Cn’t w8 2 c 👀 u 🫵l8r 👄❣️🪃 X 🌫️ Gud nite mu 🫥 u4e lol 😜 🩵🪃 xXx RUOK 4 d8 l8r??? 🌷💦 CUL ❤️‍🔥🪃 X

Has your name saved in his phone as the most ridiculous nickname you can think of, probably also with a bunch of emojis.

Dependant on your personality, petnames would include a few of the following: Darl’, darlin’, babs, babes, baby (pronounced bah-bee), sweets, hon, peachy, lovey, peanut, or doll.

Whatever your least favourite is, he will use the most cause he loves winding you up.

Swears at you, a lot. But its affectionate.

He’s not used to people doing things for him, so he is massively grateful when you do like menial domestic labour for him.

You sewed up the hole in my jacket? You’re THE best, I can’t believe you would do that for me. You did my laundry? WTF? You didn’t have to do that (he’s been wearing the same unwashed boxers for 2 weeks, someone had to) how can I ever repay you babes? You cooked for me? (It’s literally a pot-noodle) You’re an angel, I’m not welling up, shut it.

He’s really good at like, enhancing 'easy' food. He’ll add egg and chives and stuff to his packet noodles, makes the best cheese and vegemite toasty, knows just how much oil and extra cheese to add to a frozen pizza, and has mastered box mix cupcakes. His favourite is chocolate.

Uses a 5 in 1 shower gel, if and when he showers, and you cannot tell me he doesn’t blast lynx africa and/or paco rabanne 1 million so he smells woody and spicy.

However, if you have fancy smelly products of you’re own, he will use them. Gonna treat himself with a good scrub and some large helpings of your shampoo and conditioner (this one’s got multiple products for their hair, posho!)

Doesn’t matter if you use products intended for a specific skin/hair type, it’s getting used.

As a nice bonus he likes doing it cause it means your smell lingers on him when you’re not together.

Won’t admit it but he also really likes it if you burn candles and/or incense.

If you’re close enough in size, he will steal your clothes. Especially socks cause he is always wearing holes into his own.

Gets all gooey and excited when you wear his clothes, especially if you’re small enough that they look oversized, and are visibly his.

If you’re inclined to wear flowy summer dresses, he’ll go feral. Also, a big fan of linen shirts/blouses and short shorts.

When he’s dressed causal he lives in shorts and filp-flops, even in the midst of winter. Or if he’s not leaving the house he’ll just wear his boxer shorts.

Is gone for long periods of time (prison, hiding out etc) so is very clingy when you’re back together, and doesn’t really have boundaries.

Will walk in on you in the bath shower to use the toilet, or to just sit and talk to you. If you ask him nicely, he will wash your hair. Might not do a good job, but he will do it. Has his arms wrapped around your waist at all times while you’re trying to do chores or are out shopping. If he wakes before you (a rare occurrence) he will just lay on his side, watching you sleep. Might get impatient and attempt to subtly wake you by gently brushing your side or nose, or gently shaking your body.

Normally sleeps way into the day, and snores, loudly. Often wakes with a hangover. And will practically beg you to make him a bacon an egg.  

Loves almost any and all brekkie food, bacon, egg, hash browns, pancakes, you name it.

Is not a cuddly sleeper. Like he can fall asleep cuddling, but he will start rolling around, splaying his arms out, kicking his legs. Huge bed hog.

Says his favourite films are action, gangster, or like bro style comedies. Think like: Road House, Indian Jones, Kill Bill, The Gentleman, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, The Hang Over.

If you put on a horror, drama, or rom com, he will not watch it with you.

But he will find things to do in the general vicinity. Or straight up do the dad thing of like standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. If he’s not sat with you, he’s technically not watching it.

So like, which one is actually her dad? They don’t tell you but the writ- No no no, don’t tell me, I’ll figure it out, Don’t go in the basement, there’s never anything good in the basement, oh she’s only bloody gone and went in the basement! But… Barbie doesn’t love Ken. I’m not cryin, I just got allergies, shut up an’ watch your dumb girly film.

Has a stolen tattoo gun,wants to get matching tattoos, has pro for everyone of your cons. Ideally, he just wants names/initials in hearts, but will settle for more symbolic tattoos. Like a boomerang to represent him for you, and something similar for you.

Keeping any gift you’ve ever given him for life.

I made you a friends ship braclet. Eh, ya know its not my normal kinda jewellery. You don’t ha- No, fuck off, I’m gonna wear it forever.  

Would still love you if you were a worm. Hasn’t the foggiest what he would do with you. But he would love you.

Obviously gonna teach you how to use a boomerang. Even if you already know, he’s gonna show you the right way. Gotta make sure his bab is protected. (Don’t tell him that you find them impractical and are unlikely to ever use one when in need, he will sulk.)

Aforementioned video.

[superego-imagines]

Polkadot man × male reader × Captain Boomerang ot3 hcs pls? :3

((Based on them both being here, I assume both of them have been in the Suicide Squad/you’re going by their Suicide Squad version (Polka Dot Man doesn’t really have a character otherwise lmao). Usually though, unless a specific version is clarified, I’m just going to wing it.))

Getting Together Headcanons:

As you probably guessed, Digger is the one to make the first of any kind of move. Member of the squad, agent, hero, villain, man, woman, nonbinary, it doesn’t matter. If he thinks you’re cute, he doesn’t even ask your name before making sure you’re very aware that he does. Did you stand still long enough for him to approach? Congrats! You’re just his type! His sexual orientation would best be described as: Buzzard. Please make him work for it a bit, if for no other reason than his ego will become utterly unbearable otherwise. He’s cute but if those cheesy pick up lines actually get him your number he’s going to use them anytime he wants something (usually to get out of helping with a chore.)

While the relationship starts out really casual, if you’re willing to listen to him chat you up and down and brag about that time he almost (not even close) beat the Flash, well then he’s throwing you over his shoulder for a shotgun Elvis-Officiated wedding. There’s no reason to wait, you have to live each day like your last, literally in his case. Although he’s on parole now, he could be dragged back to some near-death mission or just arrested at any time. No matter how long you’re together you’ll never fully keep him out of trouble. He just loves it too much!

With Abner, it’s sort of the opposite, it takes a lot of time for you two to form first, a close friendship, and then slooooowly working your way up to a romantic relationship. There’s a lot of trauma there, and on top of that, almost thirty years of mental illness and unhealthy coping mechanisms developed to survive that trauma. So yeah, it’s a bit of a nonstarter for a while. But he does crave companionship, having been without it most of his life. So if you’re willing to be patient and understanding and work within his comfort zone, he quickly starts to open up (maybe a bit too much but you’re glad he feels safe enough to overshare?) Once he starts to see you as a safe person and a friend, it’s easier for him to physically see you as an individual and allow himself to look at you. The real you. And once he sees you…well, it’s hard for him not to catch feelings.

There’s not really much internalized homophobia to work through, if only because he’s always been an outcast, in his mind, what’s one more thing? You’re the first person to really be nice to him. How can it be wrong to pursue this? It takes him ages to express his feelings to you, and finding out about your thing with Digger just sets him back months of progress. He definitely spends about a weekend thinking about a way to kill him, before ultimately resigning himself for a lifetime of loneliness. Luckily, you notice what’s wrong and ask him about it. It doesn’t take much for all the bottled up feelings to come bursting out (possibly accompanied by dots.) It’s real emotional all around and you admit to returning his feelings and that, while you still want to be in a relationship with Digger, there might be a solution that can work for everyone.

I won’t lie, neither of them is super thrilled about the idea of an open relationship, well, Digger kinda likes it in theory but why him? It’s not so much that either of them are opposed to the idea, they’d never really thought about it before. Digger hadn’t been in many committed relationships that required actually discussing boundaries and Abner never thought he’d be in a relationship, let alone one and a half of one. I do think you have to start as more of a V than a triangle. They just really rub each other the wrong way. Abner thinks Digger's annoying and rude and Digger thinks he’s a “creepy lil’ cunt.” It also sort of brings out their insecurities whether they acknowledge it or not. They each thrive where the other falls short. Neither can see what you see in the other but they both love you and want desperately to try and make things work even if it means -ugh- spending time with each other.

But eventually, as they watch each other interact with you, they get to see the version of the other that you see. Digger can be sweet when he wants to be (or wants something.) Abner is capable of cracking a joke about once a month. Maybe they aren’t completely unbearable. And if you like them, how bad can they be? And what was a begrudging truce slowly blossoms into something more, even if they’re both a little too emotionally constipated to actually put it into words.

General Relationship Headcanons:

I hope you enjoy your scary and small but ferocious dog privilege. Both of them know how much they hit the jackpot and when they’ve finally stopped fighting each other over you, they become a very protective team. (Not that you can’t hold your own of course.) The Captain is not a particularly jealous guy, if anything it puffs him up a bit knowing everyone else wants what he’s got. Abner, however, is but sometimes lacks the ability to find a middle ground between complete conflict avoidance and murdering an entire room full of people, and the latter would really ruin the night out. Luckily, if Abner asks, Digger is not remotely above making a huge public display of obscene affection and openly challenging anyone in a ten foot radius to fight him about it.

Ideal date for Abner would be a nice night in with good takeout and a bunch of movies. He has so much to catch up on and you two have a list a mile long of things you want to show him. He also has to worry about his condition less, knowing he’ll be in the comfort of his home when he needs to excise some energy and he won’t get weird looks like he does when he starts to glow in a public movie theater. Ideal date for Digger: Stealing Renting a roofless luxury car and just driving out into the country. Past the satellite towns of Central City, there’s nothing but plains where you won’t see another car for miles. He could drive as fast as he wants, without any cops on his case, his boyfriend in the passenger seat (and later, boyfriend two sitting in the back), singing along to each other's favorite songs at the top of their lungs. He doesn’t really have anything planned out beyond that but it's what he thinks about while he waits for you two to rangle up bail money.

Cohabiting is…a bit of a learning curve. Probably one of the hardest parts of your relationship. Abner wants to be helpful but he spent the first half of his life in a lab and the rest in the psych ward of a maximum security penitentiary. He’s literally never had to keep track of the sort of basic things that go into keeping a household running. The idea that if he wants something, he can have it, but he has to do it himself. He’s never cooked for himself, chose his own clothes, or even had agency over his own schedule. Every minute of his day had always been accounted for, and while poorly, his most basic needs were taken care of for him at Belle Reeves. So you have to teach/remind him of a lot of the things that may not occur to you to tell someone. But you get to learn it together! And learning/trying out new recipes or teaming up on a chore can be fun in its own way. At least he’s willing to learn. Digger is…a bit more work. He has lived alone for a long time, but unsupervised. Be prepared for a lot of “What do you mean you have to wash towels? Ain’t the point of a shower that you’re clean at the end?” Or melted plastic in your nice new dishwasher. It wouldn’t be so bad if he would just listen and wasn’t so stubborn about his way working just fine. He’s just a bit set in his ways and it’s hard to get him used to a new routine, set of standards, and just generally living with other folks. But he’ll always come around in the end. ;)

[bsbsjxnzbakh]

Floyd and Harley Headcannons

NSFW WARNING YALL!!!!

-Harley fucking ADORES Zoe, she spoils and helps her with homework whenever she can

-Floyd would die before he admits it out loud but he feels he isn't good enough for Harley. Thinking (wrongly) that she dated the fucking JOKER and he isn't at his level in terms of riches and shit.

-Harley likes wrapping her arms around Floyd, in any way

-SOFT. VANILLA. SLOW. SEX.

-OR

-REALLY ROUGH, BRUISING, MIND ALTERING FUCKING.

-mainly soft though. God knows both need it.

-Floyd learned very quickly Harley likes to take control in and out of bed. (And he learned he kinda likes it😂)

-Harley clings to him in the mornings

“Harley we gotta go.”

“No. Your my heat source asshole.”

-OH BOY THE HICKEYS. 😂😭🙌

-Floyd doesn't give a single fuck (he secretly likes them) anymore about the teasing he gets from the rest of the squad. He just accepts his fate.

-cuddles, so many.

-Floyd is chill with the nicknames (baby, babe, etc) while Harley is more outgoing (honey bun, cuddle bug, etc)

-In terms of PDA Harley initiates it, Floyd just kinda plays along.

-Floyd keeping an eye on Harley through his gun sight with a smile (CUUUUUTE!!!!)

Rick:The target it the other way Lawton.

[imaginethatneathuhpartdos]

George 'Digger' Harkness aka Captain Boomerang fics by @sserpente

Literally, an entire Google doc she made for the man. Gotta love it.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AqJw_Y5G3JjQ4CM9-IA6L4JhkZWzqslkhuuqNijJRNA/edit?tab=t.0

[zahri-melitor]

Reading Digger Harkness as an Aussie: why he’s specifically written to wind me up, the undercurrents of many of his appearances, and why he’s voting No in the Voice referendum.

(Okay if you know ANYTHING about Digger and about the Voice you already knew that, but making this current-relevant!)

George “Digger” Harkness is Captain Boomerang. He’s traditionally written by DC to be specifically, deliberately annoying and disliked. Due to this he’s simultaneously quite cleverly written while also being the laziest character stereotype imaginable.

One of the things that drives me up the wall every time I read him in a book is that due to a clash of a few things in his character design, the subtext he’s evolved over time is remarkably complex, but also geared to make me despise him. Also I can’t tell how much of it is deliberate on the writer’s part.

The first thing you need to understand is that Harkness is very specifically putting on a level of Australianness for his audience (the usually American characters around him). The fascinating thing in this is that, unusually for this trope, his writers are often aware he’s doing this. The common term for this is ‘ocker’. You can notice this in the language he uses: it’s specifically peppered with ‘Australian’ words and phrases.

Now this is a pretty common thing for writers to do to demonstrate a character is Australian. It sounds like someone trying to write Crocodile Dundee or Steve Irwin. However, to my ear (and years of putting up with this), the way it’s done for Digger is…off. It’s not the standard terrible way it’s used in American media, but it’s equally not written naturally for how an Australian who natively speaks ocker/broad would use it. Digger’s playing it up, and he’s playing it up badly. (the closest comparison I can make than an Australian might understand is he sounds more like Russell Coight than Steve Irwin, with all that implies) He wants people to think he’s an Australian stereotype.

Heck, let’s break down his name for a demonstration of this.

Captain Boomerang: this is a very, very, loaded name. Digger’s specifically racist, and he’s racist in a very White Australia Policy sort of way. The writers are aware he’s racist. He uses a boomerang as a symbol as he’s Australian (surface level) but they’re also specifically drawn as white a lot of the time, both in his costume and in the weapons themselves. They’re not plain wood or decorated with traditional art. They’re white. He has a history of making boomerangs and promoting them in Australia for sale, as a white guy, which is uhhhh Not Great. He’s assumed a traditional piece of Australian Aboriginal weaponry and culture as his own, and he’s painted it white. He’s asserting that it’s his culture now and has stripped it of its traditional meaning. (Also his boomerangs often don’t come back, and have sharpened edges and are used wrongly). He doesn’t like Black People ™ but also uses a weapon specifically associated with an oppressed minority in his place of origin. The white supremacy attitude is very much coded in.

“Digger” as a nickname: oh the way this clashes and interacts with the fact he uses ‘Captain’ as a title! Digger as a term is a general nickname for Australian Army soldiers. It comes from the Gallipoli landings and the trenches of World War I. By using it as his nickname, Harkness is evoking a whole HOST of imagery and specifically nationalist cultural imagery surrounding Gallipoli as a ‘birthplace’ of Australian identity, something that’s been weaponised particularly by the Australian political right for the past 30 years as a national symbol. In the stories that a country tells itself about who they are, Harkness is evoking a very major one and also one that can read as quite toxic if not done carefully. (if you need a quick entry to the way the nickname makes me wince, look up ‘Cronulla Riots’. That’s the sort of person his name is evoking for me) The other problem on top of this – this is a soldier’s nickname. Harkness has never been in the Australian military (as far as I can tell). Combined with the fact he uses the title of ‘Captain’, he’s suggesting he’s got a military background that he 100% does not have. He’s a giant hypocrite. Now being part of the military in Australia reads differently to being part of the military in the USA, in how society sees it, but this is still not on. It’s not a natural nickname for an Australian to have, in his circumstances. It doesn’t even make sense as a traditional ironic nickname given by his friends. Which means he picked it himself. And for that style of nickname…choosing your own? That’s considered to be poor form and trying way too hard. (And nicknames are culturally important! For the personality Harkness is trying to present to his audience, he SHOULD have a nickname like this. My father’s is ‘Bones’, for instance. But choosing your own, and choosing one that implies traits that are not yours to display? Really really bad form)

Basically in summary, Harkness is very much coded in a lot of ways to essentially be the Australian equivalent of someone who stormed the Capitol on January 6, 2021. With that sort of view of his home country.

What is fascinating is that when Harkness interacts with other Australian characters, they do not like him, so the writers are aware that he’s been written to be this level of objectionable.

Now, some of this coding in his character has just accumulated over 60+ years as stereotypes have evolved and things have become ever more socially unacceptable. But the interesting thing here is that the writers ACKNOWLEDGE that unacceptable behaviour from Harkness.

I hate him so much. And I also want to fix his dialogue, which suffers from being written by Americans, to include a bunch more extremely country ocker sayings. He NEEDS to be saying things like “stone the flaming crows” and “fair shake of the sauce bottle” and “flat out like a lizard drinking” and “I didn’t come here to fuck spiders”. Because he’s putting it on. And these are the sort of things he’d lean in to to convey that level of “oh I’m not from around here, I am quoting Crocodile Dundee at you but you didn’t even realise” that he’s written to have.

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from anon. Boomerang is back! This is probably what he’s doing before “The Suicide Squad”.

Words: 850 Warnings: mentions of threat, fluff

“George? Is that you?” You flinched when something rustled in the hallway. You made the same mistake every single year. You sat down with a bowl of popcorn and some home-made margaritas on Halloween and watched scary movies. Last year your own reflexion in the mirror had scared you. This year it would be an Australian criminal who had lodged himself in your flat without even asking.

The police was still clueless as to how he had managed to break out of prison but that was not the question you had asked yourself when you found him in your kitchen one night, the window wide open and one of your pre-made sandwiches in his hands.

Never before had you seen someone drop food so fast to lunge forward, press you against the wall by the throat and hold a razor-sharp boomerang to your face. The beginning of a wonderful friendship… you scoffed.

No other man on this planet could bring you to a white heat like George Digger Harkness. Oh and he positively hated when you called him that. In the end, you had come to terms with him hiding here and just to be sure, he had confiscated your phone and only let you use it in his presence when you were home… for now.

“Yeah…” He called. He had a nice voice at least. Relaxing a little, you watched him kick off his boots and enter the living room with a pillowcase filled with��� hopefully not body parts.

“What have you got there?” You asked with a suspicious frown. Boomerang shrugged.

“Nothin’…”

“George.” He glared at you when you spoke his real name. “Did you steal that? Please tell me you did not steal Halloween candy from a child.”

“A kid?” He complained, his voice high-pitched. “I don’t steal from kids. Some kid gave me the pillowcase actually, when it saw me harvest. I stole the candy from a store.”

“Oh God, we spoke about this. No crimes while you’re here!”

“I nevah agreed tah that, luv.”

With a deep and content breath, he sprawled out on the sofa, leaving you only little space to keep sitting comfortably. He chuckled when he opened his pillowcase and took a good look at his bounty.

“You bring that back to the store right now.” You demanded, crossing your arms.

“You’re really goin’ out on a limp tahday.”

“Oh, am I? I’m sorry I’m not okay with a bloody criminal taking shelter in my flat and bringing home stolen Halloween candy.” Boomerang rolled his eyes at your sarcastic tone. With a start, he jumped at you so you came to lie on your back, trapping you between the sofa and his body.

“Get off me!”

“Nah…” He paused, a shit-eating grin growing on his face. “I’ll share with yah if you’re nice tah me.”

“I don’t want your stolen candy.” You spat. It was hard to keep a straight face. He might have been a criminal but he had not once hurt you since his arrival through your window. You just hated to admit that he could make you laugh and that humour was a trait you really liked in men—and very unfortunately for you, Boomerang was very well aware of that.

Last week he had caught you getting changed into your pyjamas, you had almost thrown your bedside table lamp at him.

“Yah sure? I’ve got candy corn… and bat-shaped chips… and those spooky eyeballs.” Damn him.

“It’s still stolen!” You complained, wriggling around under his tall body. As suspected, Boomerang did not budge an inch.

“You’re already in some deep shit, luv. You’re harbouring a criminal. Some stolen candy corn won’t make much of a difference.”

“I am harbouring a criminal against my will,” you emphasised, “I didn’t exactly get a say in the matter.”

“Damn right. So eat the bloody candy. I know yah want tah.”

He cocked an eyebrow when you didn’t react and instead only stared daggers at him. Unceremoniously, Boomer fetched a bag of candy corn from his pillowcase and ripped it open. Then he snatched one of the sweet candies with his fingers and brought it to your lips.

“George, no!” Your attempt to press them shut failed pathetically, for it was then he started tickling your side until you burst out laughing and were forced to open them. Chuckling, Boomer popped the piece of candy corn into your mouth, giving you time to chew so you would not choke and only letting you sit up again once you had swallowed.

“Were yah watchin’ scary movies? Seems like I came just in time with the snacks.”

Boomerang chuckled once more and snatched the remote control to press Play again as you wriggled back into a comfortable position. Your eyebrows shot up when he lifted an arm for you to snuggle up to him.

“You’re wrong if you think I will cuddle with you just because we’re watching horror movies.”

“Just like I was wrong about yah eatin’ stolen candy?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up and give me one of those eyeballs.”

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[thranduilsperkybutt]

Gif source:  Digger

Imagine smuggling a stuffed unicorn to Captain Boomerang in jail.

---------  Request for @sansa-bird  ---------

You had to bribe a guard, or two, but here you were. Some would be scared, standing in a room alone with him, but not you.

Bounding over to him as soon as the guard locks the door behind you with a gruff, “You’ve got five minutes,” you quickly wrap your arms around his neck.

Digger hugs you back, greedily grasping your body into his own, “You don’t even know how good it is to see you, girlie.”

“I got you something, big guy,” you grin up at him, tugging out of his grasp to rummage into your large jacket.

He looks on curiously, grin cutting through his face, “For me? What is it?”

“Surprise!”

“Ah, shit! This is great!” Digger laughs, taking the stuffed unicorn as quickly as you’d retrieved it and holding the toy up for his observation. His hands squeeze it a few times before he tugs you back against him, “You got a way of knowin’ what a man needs, huh?”

“Can’t help you’re an open book,” the tease rolls from your lips, as you relish in the few more minutes before the guard would be back.

[misc-oneshots]

The Heist

Request: Hey!! I know you already did one similar to this (and it was so angsty i loved it and youre awesome!!!) But do you think you can write a Cap boomerang where you get severely hurt while on a heist and loosing consciousness and Digger gets so scared and he stays with you until the cops get there and hes begging and yelling stuff like "help her please" or "shes dying"? Super angsty with a happy ending please? Thanks if you do! :)

For Anon

Words: 1,285

George ‘Digger’ Harkness/Captain Boomerang x Reader - Angst with happy-ish ending.

“Put it down, Dig.” You didn’t need to look behind you to know that he was pocketing one of your father’s smaller sculptures. “Don’t pretend you know what I’m up to.” He grumbled and you smirked at the clunk of the sculpture being placed back on the fire place. As the Mayor’s kid, the last thing that you needed was for you and Digger to get caught out just because he had big pockets and low morals. As long as no one knew about your relationship with the criminal you could still see him, your father was a powerful man and if he wanted to he could send you far away even though you were an adult. “C’mon you, we need to get out of here before someone sees you.” You smoothed down your thin jumper, the only protection you’d have against the cool Autumn air but it was worth it to be able to manoeuvre easily on your heist.

Digger tugged at the collar of his usual obscenely big jacket, he never gave a fuck about stealth but then again with his height, muscles, and bad mouth, it wasn’t easy for him to blend in. He stepped up behind you, slapped your backside before pulling you backwards to his chest, “I’m starting to think that you’re embarrassed by me.” You turned in his arms and mumbled against his lips, “You’re only just realising that?” Digger narrowed his eyes, “You think I won’t bend you over my knee and teach you a lesson just ‘cus your dad is in the house, eh?” You brushed your lips against his, “I’d much rather you do it in private after we’ve finished with the heist. You know, so I can be nice and loud.”

He grinned and gave you his dirtiest laugh, the one that always made you giggle in response, and pinched your backside, “Let’s get to goin’ then.”

---

He fell into the warehouse first, dragged you down to the floor and landed on you. You didn’t feel the fall but you reached out bloodied hands to pat his face to soothe him, he shouldn’t be so worried about you. “C’mon babe, stay with me.” He was panicked, his hands gripped your body too tightly as he carried you over to an abandoned work bench, “Stay with me now. I’ll fix this, I’ll fix this.” He continued his whispered promises and pushed your balled-up jumper onto your bleeding stomach.

“Digger, the police-” You mumbled and fought off sleep as it tried to take you, “Dig, you have to get out of here, the police.” “Don’t you worry about that, just stay with me yeah?” He mumbled and pushed a scratchy kiss to your forehead as the police lights filtered in through the window and lit up the room. Digger swallowed back the tears that threatened to take his attention, he couldn’t lose focus now. Outside the police ordered him through a megaphone for you both to give yourselves up. If he left now, you’d die before they would break in and then they may not give you medical help. No, he couldn’t abandon you. “Dig, get out.” You mumbled to him, “I’ll be fine, I prom-”

Your speech slurred and you had to force your eyes open but you were fighting a losing battle. “You’ve got to help her!” Digger shouted back to them, his cocky façade lost to hoarse desperation. “Surrender your weapons.”

“Listen to me!” His voice broke, “She’s dying! You fucking idiots, she needs help. Please! I’ll bring her out!” If you fail to surrender before you exit the building we are authorised to use live ammunition. We will shoot to kill.

He pulled you further up into his arms and kicked over the work bench that you’d been lay on with a howl of frustration. With a frail hand, you reached up and brushed away his escaping tears and smeared your blood on his cheek. “Dig, I’ll be fine, ther- there’s a way out I – I think in the basement.” You struggled to advise him. He rested his forehead on yours and his tears ran down your cheeks before he kissed you softly and gently lay you on the ground.

He didn’t pull away from you for a moment, “I’m so so sorry. You need to know that, please.” He whispered. “Digger, it’s fine, go. I love you.” You mumbled and leaned up to kiss him. “I love you too, okay. And for the record, your Dad’s an arsehole, we would have made gorgeous little bubs.” He whispered and for a second his hand ghosted over your wounded abdomen when he was reaching out for a future that would never be.

Then he made sure that you were comfortable before standing but instead of moving towards the basement he stepped towards the front of the building torwards the police lights. “Dig, what’re you-?” You started but your voice was too weak to reach him. Dig held his hands up as he moved towards the door and swallowed hard and shouted to the police outside, “I’ve got one hostage, the Mayor’s kid. They’re mortally wounded, so you know, maybe you should do somethin’ ‘bout that.”

-----

Well, he was going to die. Just when Digger thought that facing a literal firing squad and being bundled into a bag was bad enough now he had a fucking bomb in his neck and he had to work with some of the most annoying people that he’d ever met. Yet he could have dealt with all of that if he hadn’t lost you.

He pulled a dog-eared polaroid picture of you sat in his lap out of the crate of his belongings and ran his thumb down the side of your face before tucking the picture into the inside of his jacket close to his heart. “Watcha thinkin’ so hard about?” Harley, aka the blonde menace, skidded up beside Digger and leant on his shoulder with one arm while idly swinging her bat by her side with the other hand. Digger shrugged her off him and opened a can of beer, “None of your business.” “Now hey, that’s not very nice, I was only asking!” She protested, “Aren’t you the guy who shot the Mayor’s kid?” She popped her gum in his face.

He glared at her, it was like Chinese whispers finding out what people thought that he’d done to you. If only they knew the truth. “Well you didn’t do a very good job, I heard they survived.” Harley mocked him lightly and Digger nodded and drank more of his beer. She twisted from one side to the other as she regarded him curiously, the psychologist in her being curious, “Was it worth it?” Digger glared at the blonde woman whose eyes held more knowledge than she’d like people think she was capable of, was she that smart or was he that see through? Did he have a big sign on his head saying that he was in love with you? That his freedom was nothing in comparison to person the cherished most. “Yeah,” He nodded, “It was worth it.”

[babblydrabbly]

Imagine the Squad's Reactions to You Crying || Poly!Squad x Reader

Pairing(s): Select Suicide Squad Members x Neutral!Reader

Characters: Harley Quinn, Boomerang, Bloodsport, Ratcatcher II, Peacemaker, Rick Flag, Polka Dot Man.

Warnings: Language. Hurt/comfort. Some angst. Mentions of suicide (And by that I mean canon typical Abner).

[ A/N: I'm calling them imagines, but I guess they're drabbles too. Really just some indulgent hurt/comfort for my own soft self. Technically canon-divergent; Let's pretend this group is all on some random mission pre-suicide squad 2021. Criminal!Reader. ]

Imagine that Belle Reve has forced you to toughen up, to numb out and ignore everything that made ever made you who you are. On a mission with the suicide squad, out in the world again, it hits you: These are the only times you really feel free anymore— And how laughable is that? The thought seizes you like a punch to the gut, makes you finally break right there in the middle of the mission. You have to excuse yourself from the team when you think no one's looking— just to let the faucet run for a bit in private.

You think you won't hear the end of it if anyone catches you, but you're wrong.

Harley Quinn

"Thought I heard you bawlin' over here." You jump when Harley pushes through the forest brush, unsurprised to see you in your messy state. She's got her arms crossed, and you can't blame her. There's a chill out here cutting right through you too, and you hug your knees closer to your chest when Harley has a seat right down at your feet. "Sorry, I was—" You feel ridiculous, holding back a hiccup. You know your hair is messed up from brushing the wetness away from your eyes, your cheeks ruddy. "I was gonna come right back." Harley snorts, leaning her head down until her temple is resting on your knee. She looks up at you, yawning. It's 0500—Dawn hadn't even broken over the mountains yet— and you still had hours to keep trudging. "Why're you sorry?" You pause at that, blinking the last of your tears away. Harley watches as one of them falls down between the two of you, pursing her lips as she waits for you to answer. You shrug. You've this conversation with Harley before— She knows you inside out by now. Knows you're not the hard criminal you pretended to be out on these things. In fact, she knew you were quite the opposite; When you swiftly broke from the group just to disappear a few feet away, Harley had a feeling you needed a minute. You supposed you were sorry because plenty of people had jumped ship when the going got tough with you— You knew it was the same for Harley too. Your silence, her silence, there wasn't anything more that needed to be said. Harley considers words of encouragement, but you're a tough cookie. —Even if you don't think you are. You liked this moment of quiet anyway. Lifting your hand, you thread your fingers through her hair; It comforts you the way Harley sighs and noses at your knees, her eyes falling closed. "Wake me up when they're done figurin' out what to do next." She mumbles against you. And the task is enough to break you from your downward spiral, her soft breathing all you need to calm your addled mind.

Boomerang

"You back there, [Y/n]?" Harkness had turned to you during the conversation, only to see you had disappeared. He had a crude joke he knew would get you laughing— It seemed like you needed it, the way you'd been acting earlier. He pauses. "—Shit. You alright?" When he sees you sitting there, quickly wiping your red eyes with the palms of your hands, he lets go of the branches he's holding back and waits for you to say something. When you don't, he saunters over as casually as he can muster; George has a feeling making fun of you wouldn't land right this time. You expect him to try cheering you up, but instead, he plops down next to you on the stupid little rock digging uncomfortably into your uniform and nods. "Yeah, fuckin' sucks out here, don't it?" You crack a smile despite yourself. Shaking your head, you tried taking a deep breath. "Actually... I was thinking about how much I love it out here, in spite of it all." You say quietly. You know he meant the mission, the life-or-death stuff. How you get to see the great Pacific Northwest for the first time, and it's all because you've been sent out here to blow some of it up. But you can't help but breathe in the cold pine air— To relish the quiet, living forest around the two of you. Even with his thick trench coat, Harkness is shivering, his arms coming up to rub his own shoulders in an attempt to warm up. You chuckle then. Wrapping your arm around him, he breaks out into that toothy grin of his as he returns the gesture. You let your head fall on his shoulder, a warm feeling flooding you when he lets you without protest. A tender warmth floods George too, the cold night air forgotten. "You ready to fuck some shit up, [L/n]?" He says, patting you on the back after awhile. You roll your eyes, but your shared penchant for chaos makes you you smirk. Dragging yourself back up, you help lift him back onto his feet, laughing when he tries to pull you back down with his weight. "I am now."

Bloodsport

"The hell's wrong with you?" You snort at DuBois' gruff way of showing concern. He's standing there with his helmet at his hip, face twisted in an awkward grimace. "Well?" He tries again when you say nothing. "Since when d'you get all...snuffly?" He comes over and has a seat without an invitation, keeping his eyes over on the rest of the squad through the trees. He lets you finish feeling sorry for yourself, the tears coming to end but still there, still clearly streaking down your red, puffy face. You swallow thickly as the two of you sit in odd silence. When his hand comes to rest on your thigh, warmth still radiating through his glove, a bit of relief washes over you. You always joke that he runs hot— What with all the spite and bitterness that keeps him fueled up. Even now, he doesn't seemed bothered by the weather. Robert lets you take his hand in yours, and your face crumples when his grasp turns over to entwine with your fingers firmly. "It's gonna be alright, love." He says first. He doesn't know why this one's bothering you so much. He's not even sure if it's his place to ask. He considers the details of the missions— Tries to discern if there's something about it that's different this time. When he can't come up with an answer, he simply squeezes your hand again. A small smile ghosts his lips for just a moment before it's gone. You swallow down another hiccup, nodding your head as best you can. "I just... I thought I was so much more than this, you know?" You hear your voice break in your ears. You have to look away again, embarrassed. But your words slice through Robert like a knife— Hit too close to home for him— And his gaze suddenly hardens. "Hey," He says, his voice stern. He brings your hand to his chest, keeping it there against his heart. You look back at him, startled by the sudden fire in his eye. “You fuckin' are, alright? You’re not just this. Don't you fucking forget it."

Ratcatcher II

"[Y/n]? [Y/n], what's wrong?" You startle at the pair of hands that reach down and cup your face without warning. You had only been on one other mission with Cleo Cazo so far. You were apprehensive about making friends with new members— There wasn't enough time to even get to know half them. It wasn't called the Suicide Squad for nothing. But despite the challenges, despite the hardship that came with being on the task force, it never seemed to stop Cleo from being one of the kindest fucking people you'd ever met. It made you a little jealous, the way she stayed so true to herself, even while inside Belle Reve. Your brows knit together when you meet her look of genuine concern, and you rip your face away from her palms abruptly. You feel shame wash over you— Shame over letting this practical stranger see you weak like this. "Nothing." You say, standing back up. You steel yourself from any more prodding, expecting her to say more. You jump again when Cleo wraps her arms around you in a tight hug instead. The gesture almost pisses you off— Almost. But you're still upset. Still not finished feeling sorry for yourself. You feel the waterworks come back with a vengeance at her tender embrace. When your shoulders shake involuntarily, you curse under your breath, tears falling down your cheeks again. Your lip quivers as Cleo pulls away to aim another concerned look at you. "...How do you do it?" You whisper. "Doesn't it break you? Being trapped like this?" Cleo mulls over your words, her thumb stroking your elbow gently. You shiver, gripping her back. "It is hard." She finally admits, matching your quiet voice. "But I just have to remember I'm not alone." You huff, cracking up when Sebastian the rat suddenly pops up over Cleo's shoulder, waving at you. Cleo delights in seeing you cheer up, but still takes a moment to hold your face again. You let her this time, biting back another sob at her touch. "You're not alone either, [Y/n]. I'm here for you." A small squeak. "We're here for you."

Peacemaker

"Jesus fuck!" You nearly shout when you look up and see Smith there in the dark. "How long have you been standing there?" He'd followed you shortly after you broke away from the group. If it had been any other member, he would've been suspicious about how you left without a word. But even though you butted heads, he considered how he knew you pretty well by now— And you weren't stupid enough to desert the task force. At least, he hoped you weren't. When he sees you sitting there, shoulders shaking as you cup your face in your hands, Chris uncharacteristically freezes. He expected plenty— Just not to see you crying quietly. You arch your brow when he clears his throat. "I, uh. You look like you need a minute." He's turning back to step through the brush when you stand, waving him off. "I'm fine." You say. He shoots you a look, stopping; He doesn't buy it. Smith makes his way over to you, planting his feet squarely in your path. "Bullshit." He says simply. "I've seen you take a bullet to the gut. You didn't even cry then." You roll your eyes. "That was probably the shock, Chris." You're one of the few people who call him by his name anymore. It's partly the reason he steps closer, his voice softening as he gets a better look at your face. "What's up, [L/n]? One of these fucker's say something to you?" You shake you head, a chuckle threatening to distract you from your little pity party. "No. It's not them. It's just—" Nope. You can't do it. One more word, and you're going to burst into tears. Again. You bite back a whimper, quickly glancing away. Smith seems to understand then; He wasn't going to pry it out of you if you weren't going to say it. You exhale shakily when a pair of strong arms envelope you in a brief hug. Smith pulls away at arm's length after a moment, nodding at you. "Take your time. I'll let 'em know you need a minute. And— [Y/n]?" You blink up at him. "You can tell me." He tries, his eyes darting away. "Maybe some other time, you can talk to me."

Rick Flag

"[Y/n]?” While the others argued amongst themselves, your team leader notes your absence with just a hair of alarm. He had plenty to worry about during missions— Very rarely did he ever have to worry about you. You glance up to see Rick assessing you silently, and you instantly try to play it off. "I was going to come straight back." You assure him, before anything else. Like he'd actually bring Waller up on the comms and tell her to blow your head off for stepping a few feet away from the group. You almost wish he would just have a squat beside you, but instead he takes one knee, and most of your view with it. You duck your head; You don't know why, but a shame washes over you when Rick looks at you like this. He didn't need another member losing it. He takes your chin in your hand carefully. "What's wrong, [Y/n]?" You brace for the dam to break, your lip a quivering mess. The sight stabs at him. When he sets his rifle down to wrap his arms around you, you can't help the whimper that escapes your throat. "Just tired." You mumble into his shoulder. He lets you cry it out for a few minutes more before you compose yourself. There's nothing he can offer you as a free man— No words that won't sound hypocritical or simply fall short when it came to your situation. "I know that I don't know, [Y/n]. But you don't have to lie to me." You want to fight to keep from falling apart again. So you smile instead, knowing in this quiet moment that he means it. "I'll be okay." You tell him. And the corner of Rick's lips quirk in the sly way of his. "I know you will." He says, finally letting you go. "But I'm here when it's not alright either, understand?" You give him a shitty little salute that makes him crack up. As if to put a point on just how much trust he had in you, he lets you pick up his rifle, nodding when you hand it back to him. "Copy that, Colonel." "Rick." You grin. "Rick."

Polka Dot Man

Abner says nothing when he finds you sitting there, crying to yourself. His steps approach you without making you jump, and you glance away when he has a seat beside you. "...I know. It tends to build, doesn't it." He says for you. Like you've just poured out everything you've been thinking, and you worry briefly that his inter-dimensional powers might include some form of telepathy. Because the look he's giving you when you finally turn your head to him, the utter, shining sympathy on his face makes you wrack with another sob. Your shoulders heaving as you collapsing into a mess again. Normally he’s the nervous wreck. Normally, when the others don’t get why he’s on the brink again, you’re there, soothing him with a gentle bump of your shoulder against his. Your companionable silence was always enough for him— You saw Abner. He tries to return the favor by scooting closer to you. He wasn’t one for touching, so you’re surprised when you feel Abner slip his hand around yours. “Everytime we’re out here, I wonder with baited glee what will finally kill me.” He sighs. You’re glad the others aren’t around, because you can’t imagine what they would say if they saw the way you and Abner exchange wide grins. “A rockslide would be pretty badass.” You throw out casually. You wipe your drying eyes with a sniffle. He chuckles a little at that. “I would have preferred a cold avalanche, but I don’t think there’s enough snow this time of year.” He waits for you to collect yourself without any more, patient as you finally stand. You pull him up with you, holding both his hands there between you for a moment. “You’re right, Ab.” You say. “Let’s make it through this one. There's better ways to die.” Let’s make it through this time, for the hell of it. It’s a silly little promise— one you keep managing to make to each other over and over. This many squad missions later, you wonder what kind of joke someone out there is playing. Abner’s smile lights you up. Sometimes you wonder if he dusts it off just for you. You hoped, anyway.

[thequeenofuselessinformation]

Need I say more

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 846

Gif NOT mine.

If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me know, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - @rjsigaming (Unless told otherwise.)

Year posted - 2021

----

The helicopter fell to the ground and came tumbling towards Digger, and the world slowed down as (Y/n) looked to her lover, her heart shattering. "BOOMER!" She cried out mustering all of her strength and power, she rushed forward nearly as fast as the Flash himself, a feat she has never before mastered. Diggers eyes widened with realization, as a brilliant purple light rushed towards him.

Before he had time to think, (Y/n) crashed into her lover, sending his body hurling out of the way and to safety. Without a chance to react, and try to save herself, the helicopter blades tore (Y/n) to pieces, right before Diggers eyes.

"No." He breathed out, his eyes welling with tears. "No-o!" He cried out with a crack in his voice, heartbroken. "(Y/n)!" He screamed out her name in sorrow, his heart shattering to a million pieces at the sight of her dismembered body. "Boomer we have to go." Harley called out as she pulled at the man's arm, heartbroken herself at the loss of her best friend.

"We have to go!" She urged the broken man, who could hardly hear her through his sorrow. "Please she sacrificed herself so you could live! Don't let her sacrifice go to waste!" Harley pulled him by the arm, her words finally getting through to him. Digger then pulled himself up and swallowed his sorrow, and pushed on for her sake, honoring her sacrifice, and killing anyone else he could.

From then on Boomer could only see his one true love within the sanctuary of his dreams, crying out each time he awoke to find her side of the bed empty and cold. His heart aching for the life lost, and for the the life they could have had together, Boomer and his beloved (Y/n).

----

*Why do my favorites always die??? And I hate how used to it I am. 😒 Anyways I'd die any day to save Boomer, and on that note, I hope you enjoyed this.

[gilverrwrites]

Quick and Dirty

Pairing: Captain Boomerang/Reader

Digger has an idea, it involves highly inappropriate usage of the Speed Force Gauntlet. (Please ignore the fact that the gauntlet doesn't actually extend to the fingers - at least i'm pretty sure it doesn't)

You're currently reading the AFAB version

>[Please click here for the AMAB version]<

Rating: 18+

Words: >800

Content: Established relationship, coercion (kinda), clitoral stimulation, vibrations, dirty talk, spit, swearing.

Please remember: to do the things that make you happy.

“No. Fucking. Way.” You warn, leaning back against the wall and crossing your arms defensively. “You keep that thing away from me.”

“Oh, come on, Darlin’.” Digger is still smiling, crooked, confident, casual. He gestures to the speed gauntlet strapped to his other arm. “It’s perfectly safe. You’ve seen me usin’ it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You examine the glove in question. It would be a lie to say you weren’t intrigued. You didn’t know much about the speed force beyond whatever half-truths Digger rambled on about, it seemed intricate, and unsafe. But Boomerang was a good lay, and he’d used that thing to save your skin in the field more than once, so you were willing to tentatively hear him out. “If that thing goes off midway, I don’t want my bits going with it.”

“That won’t happen… Probably.” Concern did flash across his face briefly, but it was quickly hidden by his usual bravado. He stepped closer to you, not quite close enough to touch, but enough that you could smell him, that you could feel the high energy radiating from him. Or maybe that was the gauntlet. “Have a little faith in ol’ Boomer, aye. I’ll treat you right, make you feel real good.”

“Okay… but if anything happens to mine.” You point to your crotch before gesturing to the growing erection in Digger's trousers. “I’m using yours as target practice.”

That might have been a boner killer for other men, but Digger's enthusiasm when it comes to sex or showing off knows no bounds, and this is a perfect opportunity for both. His eyes glint with mischief, with victory. He licks his lips, and you know there’s no backing out now, you’re fucked.

Digger maintains eye contact as he reaches out, there’s no pleasantries. He makes quick work undoing your trousers, hooking his gloved fingers in your panties, and pulling them both down until they’re positioned halfway down your thighs.

“What, no foreplay?” You challenge, raising your brows at him.

“You’re not gonna need it.” The look he gives you is so coy, so amused. It should fuel your cynicism, but it looks hot on him. “But, since ya asked so nicely, I guess I can spare a lil somethin’.”

He rests his unarmed hand on the wall beside you and leans in, occupying your lips with his. You’re only allowed a moment to enjoy it before you feel the brisk metal finger plates of the gauntlet slide between your slit. You hiss at the contact, and Digger pulls his hand back immediately.

“Sorry bout that. Shoulda warmed it up first.” His expression flips to sheepish as he brushes his fingers against his scarf. He blows on it a few times before spitting on his index finger and continuing. “Right, let’s try that again.”

He resumes the position, one hand on the wall, one hand slinking back between your legs, and his face just inches from yours. The temperature has barely improved, but he’s able to sink his fingers back in without causing you to flinch this time.

You’re still unprepared and admittedly unimpressed thus far as he starts circling your clit. To give him a fighting chance, you close your eyes, hoping it will help you focus on the feeling.

“Aye, no no no. Keep your eyes open.” As you follow his instruction, you hear a quiet whizzing from below, a lesser sound than the gauntlet's normal powering up. “I wanna watch your reaction.”

Then it hits you, an intense pulsing pressed against your most sensitive area, like every vibrator ever invented is being utilised on you in that single moment. The wall prevents you from being able to roll your head back, so you stare at Digger, wide-eyed as your body tingles and burns.

“Shhhhiiiiit, you like that.” His voice is dripping with fervour, and it only serves to add an extra level of throbbing to your cunt. Already approaching your climax, you’re unable to find the words to respond, instead fisting your hands around Digger's leather lapels in anticipation. “You reallllly like that, don’t ya?”

A nod is all you can manage as you begin to jerk and quiver, hitting your climax in record time. It’s hot and searing, like lightning is running through your whole body.

The tips of your fingers and toes, among other things, are still twitching as you start to catch your breath moments later. You can barely comprehend whatever Digger is prattling on about. He’s waving the gauntlet around, his arm moving so fast you can’t make it out. There’s lots of brash laughter and ‘I told ya so’s. You’re finally able to fully tune in as he muses, “How many rounds of that can handle, I wonder?”

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Stealin’ Hearts

George “Digger” Harkness x Reader

Fandom: DC Extended Universe

Summary: You’re a superhero and you just found out your soulmate is the notorious diamond thief, Captain Boomerang. You want to trust him, but you’re not sure you can just yet, so…now what?

Note: This is the sequel to He’s a Challenge. I really wanted to write a second part lol so here you go!

Warnings: Alcohol mention.

Word Count: 1.5k

Reader is: Female (but I would be willing to rewrite another version for a male or gender neutral reader.)

When the jet landed, you let go of Boomer’s hand and led him out onto the roof of your family’s secluded forest mansion. He looked down at the sheer size of it, his eyes wide.

“What?”

“Nothing, just…It’s not what I expected.” He admitted, hauling his duffle bag full of his few belongings over his shoulder. You led him in through the door and down the stairs to the balcony that overlooked the lower level of the house. You saw your siblings were congregated there, River looking particularly anxious, his arms across his chest. Rose and Ryan were sitting on the couch, talking, but their discussion stopped when they noticed you and Digger standing there, looking down at them.

“We’re here.” You called awkwardly.

“I see that.” River said, his eyes guarded as he looked the notorious Captain Boomerang up and down.

You led him down the stairs to where the others were and he hesitated, but followed after you anyway, a sheepish look on his face.

“So, Mr. Harkness, I’m not sure if (Y/N) told you why you’re here.”

“Well, I know we’re soulmates, so…” he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, obviously anxious about the whole situation. “I kind of figured that was why.”

“Well, yeah, but also no.” Rose laughed, motioning for everyone to sit down, so you . “(Y/N), why don’t you explain?”

You exhaled a long breath, nodding. “Yeah, I guess I can.” You looked up at Digger and he smirked. “Yeah, so, uh, our mom is the queen of an alien planet. So like…we’re royalty. And because of that, through our laws, you get diplomatic immunity because you’re my soulmate. I mean…unless you do something super fucked up and then I can’t help you.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his expression confused, but also evaluating what you had just said. “You mean to tell me my soulmate is a princess.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged.

He grinned. “Wicked.”

***

With every room of the mansion you showed Digger, the more and more impressed he became, taking everything in. He was still expecting you to take it all back at some point, tell him it was all a big joke and he wouldn’t be living in your giant mansion for the rest of his days.

That was strange to him, too. This weird sense of security. He’d had a rough upbringing, that much was for sure. He wasn’t used to stability, even in his adult life. He’d been constantly on the run, in and out of prison, doing whatever he could to make ends meet and try to establish something for himself, and…here it was. It had fallen right into his lap.

You pulled open a door and led him into another bedroom. There were a few generic pieces of art on the wall. The comforter was charcoal gray and there were a few navy throw pillows on top.

“I’m sorry it’s so empty in here.”

“Why are you…?” He paused for a second, looking around the spacious bedroom. It was nice, clean…way better than the tiny, dingy jail cell he’d been in for the past few years. “Is this my room?”

“Yeah, is that alright? It’s next door to mine, so I figured…”

“It’s perfect, princess.” He smiled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”

“Well, believe it.” You chuckled, stepping further into the room and opening the drawers on the dresser. “We didn’t know what size you were, so we guessed, but we picked you up some basics. I didn’t know what all you had…”

Digger was silent, watching you with careful eyes. You barely knew him and yet you’d done all of this for him, going out of your way to get him clothes and bedding.

“And this is your bathroom.” You opened the door to what he had assumed was a closet or something, but no, he now had an entire bathroom to himself as well. “I know the shower can be a little confusing, so let me know if you need any help with anything.”

You blinked up at him, waiting for some kind of reaction. “You good?”

“Y-yeah, I just…” He chuckled and shook his head. “This isn’t what I was expecting.”

“What, did you think we’d throw my soulmate in the dungeon?” You smirked, watching the way he couldn’t help but crack a smile at that.

“I wouldn’t have blamed you for it.”

You were both quiet for a moment before he asked, “Do you mind if I take a shower real quick? I haven’t had a warm shower in…” He didn’t finish the thought. You both knew it had been a while since he’d had a bathroom to himself, let alone water that wasn’t already cold by the time he got to it.

“Go for it. I’ll be down in the living room when you get out.”

***

When Digger came back downstairs, you were almost shocked, looking at him. He’d trimmed his beard, combed his hair, and he was wearing one of the cozy gray hoodies you’d picked out for him. He looked nice. You couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks when you took him in.

“What, princess?” He raised an eyebrow, walking over to sit down next to you.

You set the book in your hands down on the coffee table. “Hmm?”

“What’s that look for?”

“You look nice, is all.” You shrugged.

He grinned. “You think so?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded. Once he was closer, you could smell the eucalyptus shampoo in his slightly damp hair. You leaned in the tiniest bit, terrified of moving too fast, but he leaned in a bit too, only to be interrupted by—

“GIRLS’ NIGHT!”

You looked up at the sound of the voice with wide eyes, chuckling when you saw none other than Harley Quinn standing there with a bottle of wine.

“Boomer? What are you doin’ here?” She asked, looking at him.

“I found my soulmate, Harls.” Digger said, smiling as he did.

She looked between the two of you, her eyes widening in realization. “Wait, are you two…?”

“Yeah, we are.” You confirmed, slipping your hand into Digger’s. He embraced it quickly, giving it a proud squeeze.

“But I thought your soulmate was some dude named George…?”

“Digger is just a nickname, mate.” He chuckled. “My real name is George.”

“Ohhhhhh.” Harley nodded. “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.”

“You know it’s Wednesday, right?” You said, glancing down at your phone to double-check.

“Oh, is it? I thought it was Thursday.” Harley laughed. “My bad.”

“You can hang out if you want to, though.” You offered, motioning to the couch.

“Don’t mind if I do.” She ran over and hopped onto the open end of the couch next to you, setting the wine bottle on the coffee table before crawling over to whisper in your ear, “He’s a keeper, (Y/N). You’re in good hands.”

“Oh believe me,” you smirked, “I know.”

***

It was a few months later. Much to your surprise, Digger stuck around. Part of you had expected him to leave that first night with all of your family valuables in his duffle bag, but he…hadn’t. Instead, he’d been coexisting peacefully with your siblings, spending significant amounts of time trying to get to know you better, reading, cooking on occasion, and helping with chores around the house.

He remembered in vivid detail the first time you’d trusted him enough to fall asleep with him. It had been innocent enough, one of your first times cuddling together. Your other siblings were all out of the house, so you and Digger had the house to yourselves. Naturally, you had popped in a movie. One thing had led to another and you’d ended up fast asleep on his chest.

He took a long moment to look at you, something he had never felt before welling up inside of him as slow breaths worked into and out of you.

Something changed then, and since that moment, he had been pretty attached to you. Not that you minded. It felt natural. He was your soulmate, after all.

“Princess, have you seen my—” Digger popped his head into your bedroom, frozen in his tracks when he saw you there, laying on your bed, reading a book.

“What?��� You asked coyly.

“Nothing, I just…” He smirked and stepped into the room. “Would you like some company?”

“Weren’t you looking for something?”

“Yeah, my heart, and it seems you’ve been hiding it in here with you.” He replied, walking over to your bed and climbing on next to you. He gently guided your book away from you and took its place on your chest instead, looking at you with his sparkling eyes, his weight comforting on top of you.

“And here I thought you were the thief.”

“Reformed, darlin’.” He said, unable to keep the smile off of his face. For one of the only times in his life, not only did Digger feel safe, but he finally felt happy, and he knew as long as he was by your side, that feeling would never fade.