#digger harkness smut

[creepling]

⋆.˚☀︎٠ ࣪⭑ A KNOCK AWAY

synopsis: returning packages and a broken washing machine lead you to spend the night with your hot neighbour, digger harkness.

tags: smut - minors dni. fem!reader. age difference (early 20s x late 30s). domestic elements. reader described as "shy" but not really. sexual tension. alcohol use. drinking games. awkward moments. oral (f receiving). couch sex. big dick (it's canon it's out of my control!!!). p in v. creampie. 4.4k words.

Your neighbour had a habit of ordering ludicrous amounts of packages but is never at home to collect them. It was almost every day they arrived and piled at your front door. The last few days you’ve knocked on his door to give them, but met by silence. Your small apartment is running out of room if any more decide to show up. You had been going in the afternoons once you came off work, but he either didn’t answer or wasn’t in. This time, on Saturday morning, you decided to knock on his door. Who cares if it’s the weekend, or it’s too early, you were determined to get those packages out of your house.

You knock gently at first and wait for a minute. No answer. A week. A whole week of this bullshit. Impatience clouds your sympathy, and you knock on the door harder. You hear a thud, a clank of glass, and a curse on the other side of the door. You knock again, calling up a groan of annoyance and an “I’m coming!”

The door opens, and you’re greeted by your neighbour for the first time since you moved here. He is shirtless, showing off a collection of tattoos. His mop of hair hadn’t met a comb yet; still scuffled by sleep. You could tell he was older, and you were taken aback by how attractive he was. Given in a rugged way. You half-expected a balding divorcee with a beer belly.

“You’re George, right? I live next door,” You introduce.

Eyes squint and bloodshot, he looks you up and down before nodding. “You know what time it is, sunshine? Too bloody early to be knocking on people’s doors.” He said, fighting through a hangover to communicate. The twang of an Aussie accent was the second thing to surprise you. Even with the twang of annoyance in his tone, you bite your cheek to fight off a flattered smile.

Your bashfulness forces you to ditch the defiant speech you prepared. “I’m aware of that- but I’ve tried to get a hold of you all week, but you seem to not be in during the afternoon.” You shuffle to your open door, grab one of the packages and gesture it to George, “There’s a ton of packages here for you.”

George’s annoyed face began to soften, and he let out an idle chuckle. “Shiiiiit, I forgot about those!”

He opened his door wider and began collecting the parcels from you. You got a peek inside his apartment. Your suspicions of his home were accurate, resembling what all men living alone succumb themself to; their own squaller.

“Thanks for holding onto them for me. And sorry for being cranky, hangovers, y’know?” George said, his tone now different, one more pleasant. You smile, feeling pleased that you have the chance to converse with a neighbour and know who lives next door.

“Hope you had a good night so it’s worth it,” you chuckle, taking a stack of the packages and shuffling to his door. George takes them from your hands swiftly. This left you standing by his door, looking around the living room, stumped on the small talk. You were never really good at this.

“I mean- it was alright. They just hit you more when you get older,” he dropped the remaining boxes by his door, rubbing his temples as he stretched. His abdomen extended, shifting the waistband of his pants, making you look away and stand in silence. George scratches the back of his neck as he looks at you, feeling the interaction fade to a farewell.

“I better get going, you’ve got a lot to unbox,” you say, slowly backing away.

George gets to the door, nodding and shooting you a smile. “Thanks again for keeping them safe.” You could have sworn he looked you up and down, in a different way this time. Sizing you up, for other means. Maybe it was your imagination.

You meekly wave before retreating to your apartment. With the packages gone, your eyes adjust to the clear space, and the lingering images of your neighbour hot in your thoughts.

The washing machine was stuck again, and no matter how hard you hit it, it was still broken. Today is not going well, and you were on the edge, especially since the only other machine in the block has an ‘out of order’ sign on it. You rub your hands along your face, the skin already flushed from anger. A shuffle of footsteps approaches the entrance, and you reveal yourself to see who is witnessing your self-pity.

“Useless fucking thing, ain’t it?” It was George, the first time you’ve seen him in clothes that weren’t pyjama pants with socks and slides. He looks like he’s back from work, or the gym, it is hard to tell. You did wonder what he did for a living.

“I’m lucky it broke before I put my laundry in,” You look at the bright side with heavy eyes and a half-assed smile.

“Well, I don’t wanna brag, but I do have a machine. Wouldn’t mind ya using it until they fix it,” George shrugs with a ‘no big deal’ attitude. Suddenly your neighbour was a beacon of hope, and the stress left you with a sigh of relief.

“That would be really helpful, thanks,” you pick up your laundry basket, following up the stairs. He hunched the duffle bags over his shoulder. Reaching the top of the stairs, he unlocks his front door and lets you in first, taking a look at his living room and huffing. “Sorry about the mess.”

Beer bottles and cans littering the coffee table, clothes on the floor or hanging from the couch and chairs. You take one breath and smell the stale air, keeping a straight face. “It’s okay,” You smile through it, not wanting to place judgment. Maybe he’s just a busy guy.

George quickly shows you the settings on the machine (which he wasn’t so sure about) before excusing himself to the shower. Before you could ask questions, he was dashing to the bathroom, leaving you to your own devices. You load the machine, press the button and hope for the best.

Alone in his apartment was daunting and you begin to explore. Mostly focused on the messiness, the environment nagging at your senses. Clean space, clean mind, as they say. You pick up the trash and throw it out, starting with the beer cans. Luckily you didn’t find anything too disgusting, with the odd dirty plate you could place in the sink. You open the curtains, coughing from the dust and open the window to release the smell of stale pizza and beer. Your mind is clearer, you go to wash your hands until you spot George standing by the entrance of the living room in awe. He is still in his towel, his right hand clenching the side to keep it in place, his hair wet and slicked back. You turn away immediately, looking anywhere but him, a kick of adrenaline overtaking your insides.

“Wasn’t aware I ordered room service,” he joked, amused by your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry- I should have just left and come back later for the laundry. But- I don’t know- your place looked like it needed a tidy-up. I can’t help myself, it’s a habit. God- I’m so stupid-”

“Don’t get your undies in a twist, it’s fine. I appreciate it,” George reassures, rubbing the back of his neck, “As you can see, I don’t get many visitors.”

When he closes the bedroom door to change, it’s safe for you to look again. That feeling in your stomach didn’t go away, it still brewed in the pit and crawled its way up your core. It makes you think about him again, like those sleepless nights after your first encounter, and your cheeks grow hot. Maybe this is a good time to slip out and avoid him like the plague. But what else would you be doing? Watching TV? Playing video games? All alone in your apartment, like you always are. That’s how your life has been, work, home, bed; absent of social life, of anything remotely adventurous. You keep your feet firmly on the ground, chewing your lip in thought. There was a time when you lived life on the edge, out every weekend, hooked up with people. Letting your old self come out to play wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

“Where do you keep your cleaning supplies? I could do the rest for you if you want,” you call, inching towards the bedroom door so he can hear you. He opens the door quickly, startling you, wearing casual grey sweatpants and a white tee.

“Are you like a freelance maid or something? This how you get clients?” He leaned an arm on the door frame, looking down at you. He becomes the only thing in eyesight and you freeze, giving a shy smile.

“No, I just like cleaning, that's all. You seem like you need it, being a busy guy and all.” You study his eyes, wondering if he sees right through you.

George slowly nods, then snaps his fingers, heading towards the front door and sliding his shoes on. “Tell you what, love. I have to run a few errands, while I’m out I’ll leave you to it.”

You frown, crossing your arms. “You’re just gonna leave me, your neighbour you’ve met like once, in your house alone? You trust me like that?”

He shrugs, taking one of the duffle bags full of… something. “I’ve got many weapons I can pull on you if you try anything. Plus, you’re young and don’t look that strong, so I think I can take you on.” You weren’t sure if he was joking, but there was a cheeky look in his eye that allowed you to chuckle.

“That would do it. You can trust me.”

George gives a little salute, exiting the door. “Stuff’s under the kitchen sink. Good luck!”

You look at his limited supply, an empty bottle of bleach and a mysterious liquid in a spray bottle. You decide to use your supplies, grab them from your apartment, and come back to start the work.

You collapse on the couch gasping for air. People underestimate how much energy it takes to clean, especially when cleaning George’s house. Within an hour you cleaned the living room and kitchen and hung up your laundry to dry in your apartment. The worst part was the vacuuming, as like not owning cleaning supplies, he also didn’t have a vacuum. Go figure.

George eventually returned, greeted by your efforts and your limp body sprawled on his couch. You quickly got up, hoping he didn’t mind. Heck, this guy doesn’t have a vacuum, he can’t be the judge. “So, what do you think?” You anticipate.

“You did a bloody good job, I’ll tell ya that,” a smile on his face, making you smile too. “And since ya the best neighbour on this side of Metropolis, I got ya a lil payment to say thanks.”

George pulls out a crate of beers and takeaway pizza, presenting them to you. Your eyebrows knit in confusion, but you smile at the thought. “Thanks, George.”

“Please, call me Digger, everyone calls me that,” he said, “Thought we could have a couple of beers and I’d feed ya, but I’m no chef, hence the pizza.”

“So, Digger… is this you inviting me over for dinner?” You ask, pursing your lips. He thought about it and then nodded his head. “I guess I am,” he smirks.

Pizza crusts and beer cans decorate the coffee table, the television musing low music. You laugh at a joke Digger told you, hiding your mouth to not spit all over the place. He sits low on the couch, his hands resting between his legs with a beer. With your legs close to your chest, you take a sip of beer when a silence falls between you.

“Thanks for having me, I’m having a lovely time.” You confess, a little tipsy. You get shy admitting that, focusing on the music, unaware of Digger’s eyes not leaving your sight.

“I didn’t have a college kid cleaning my house on my bingo card,” he muses teasingly, smirking at your bashful smile.

“I am not a college kid! I graduated ages ago.”

“And by ages ago you mean in the last five years?”

He chuckles at your look of defeat. “Says the guy who’s five years off getting a pension,” you tease in defence.

“I’m not that old!” He defended back, “Nowhere near it!”

“Well, you’re at least old enough to clean your own house and have a vacuum.”

“You got me there…” he says into his beer.

The silence fell between you once again, but surprisingly it was not awkward. The air was thick, and not with stale air like before. You convince yourself it’s one-sided, keeping yourself together. You had an idea, but it was juvenile. When he doesn't say anything to keep the conversation going, you go on and suggest it.

“How about we play truth or drink?”

“How old are you? Five?” He scoffs.

“We already established my age, remember? C’mon, it’ll be a good icebreaker. Don’t you wanna get to know your friendly neighbour?” You nudge his arm playfully, realising you’ve been going that a lot since you had a drink. Mostly when he told a joke. You try not to cringe, realising your inferiority. He probably thinks you’re immature, and you suddenly see yourself as a fool. But when he turns his body towards you, giving you his full attention while cracking open another beer, you feel a little better about yourself.

“Who’s asking first?” He asks.

You volunteered since you suggested playing. You turn towards him, fighting through a fit of giggles, liking the way his eyes smile at you. He has nice eyes, light in colour, a mix of blue and grey with crow's feet winging the sides.

“Okay, let’s start easy. How long have you lived on the block?” You ask.

“‘Bout five months, I’d say,” he says.

“Do you move around a lot?”

“Oi, thought you ask one question at a time?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just curious,” you dart your eyes to his smirking lips before looking away.

“To answer your other question, I do move around a bit. It’s a job thing.”

You look back at him, catching his stare, the one that never seems to fade from you. You like the way he stares at you, so attentive like he refuses to have you out of his sight. It’s the type of stare that makes someone feel special.

“My turn,” he chirps, “are you always this shy around people?”

“What? I’m not shy,” you scoff.

“Really? You’re not shy?”

“What happened to starting easy?”

“No, you said that. I didn’t. I never start easy,” he says haughtily.

You roll your eyes, taking the beer can to your lips and taking a sip. Digger scoffs in shock, “No way are you drinking to that.”

“It’s a ridiculous question, plus I technically did answer the question. I’m not shy.”

Digger shakes his head in disappointment, breaking eye contact to chuckle into his hand. You narrow your eyes, readying the next question.

“Do you have a wife and kids?” You ask.

Digger didn’t act like you struck a nerve, but he wasn’t laughing anymore. He shook his head, and you take that as an answer, not wanting to press further. Yet, he begins to speak, in a tone softer than the one you’ve been getting used to;

“I know at my age I probably should, but it’s never worked out, y’know? The whole love thing I’ve never gotten the hang of.”

You resonate with him, meekly returning a smile. “Me either.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Digger said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re good-looking. Woulda bet somebody snagged ya by now.”

You can’t help but chuckle, hearing how wrong his words are. “I guess I’ve gotten close before, but it was never meant to be.”

Digger nods in agreement like he is in the same boat. You had a strong urge to move closer to him, but resort to fidgeting with a thread on the coach. “Who’s turn is it?”

“Mine,” Digger returns his gaze to you. It was more intense, and you feel him all over you. As you grow the courage to meet his eyes, you see them trailing from your lips to meet you, his icy eyes darkening and lips parting as he readies his words.

“How would you feel about kissing me?”

Your stillness speaks volumes to him, and from the look of shock in your eyes, Digger’s smile fades and turns sour. He hides his face in his hands, cursing under his breath.

“Fuck- Just drink to that, it was bloody stupid,” his self-depreciation eats at you and you try and find the words to explain yourself. He was right, you were shy, and it got in the way of your feelings. So much for being the big flirt like you planned.

“No, it’s fine, honestly-”

He cuts you off, “I just thought- why else would wanna hang out with an old fuck like me? Keep my packages, clean my house,” he groans out a sigh, “and the way you look at me, fuck, it’s been driving me insane all day.”

“Digger-” you catch his attention, softening your face, and placing your beer on the coffee table. You shift your body closer to his, your movement swift but gentle. “I’d like it if you kissed me.”

He blinks, adjusting his eyes to the proximity, noticing the small details of your features, the softness of your lips. He swallows back his nerves, “Nah- you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

There is only one way to prove him wrong, and you did it by making the first move. You press your lips against him, and you're struck with his immediate touch as he engulfs you in his arms. Your hands snake up his chest to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss as he beckons you to press your body against him with his firm hold. He grins into the kiss at the sound of your whimpers, holding the small of your waist and guiding you to his lap. You go with the motion, swinging your leg around and straddling him, enamoured by the hold he has on you. The makeout was sloppy, tipsy on beer and getting more drunk on each other’s lips. Digger’s kisses were firm and deep, his chapped lips coated in your sweet spot as he glided his tongue along yours. His hands lay haven on your asses, rubbing his callous palm around the fabric of your pants, enchanting your hips to move ever so slightly.

“Ain’t so shy now, are ya?” He grunts into your ear, migrating his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling on your faint skin. You see stars, closing your eyes in bliss, your fingers tugging at his shirt and fighting off the urge to rip it off. He takes the time to remove his t-shirt with your eager assistance, latching onto you once you discard it.

“Please, I need you,” you plead. You gaze down at him, your stare both close and far. His bucking hips invite your crotch to feel his length, the tip of his bulge grinding against your thigh.

He whispers to you, “Tell me what you want.”

 “Use me, I know you want to,” you taunt, enjoying the light that ignites in his eyes, his grip tighter on your skin.

“You’ll regret saying that, but I bet you can handle it,” he jesters, pulling your hair to expose your neck, his lips latching back onto your sweet skin. His other hand pushes your top over your breasts, exposing your hardening nipples. Licking towards your nipples, sucking on them gently and cupping your tits in his hands, grazing his teeth when you grind down on his erection.

Digger, hungry for more of you, lays you down on the couch. His eyes demand your attention, taking time to pull down your pants and underwear, drenched in your arousal. He lowers his head to your cunt, prying your legs open as you try to hide how wet you were.

“Don’t hide from me, love, show me how pretty you are,” he muses, admiring your glistening walls, lapping them tenderly with the tip of his fingers. Relishing in your squirms, he gazes at you under his lashes. “Fuck, you’re drenched.”

Your hands grip his hair when his tongue makes contact with your sensitive walls, his prominent nose snug on your clit as he eats you out. His movements are deep and steady, keeping himself in place between your quivering thighs, refusing to come up for breath as a rising feeling of release fills your insides. Shifting his tongue from your walls to your clit, his nose taking place not to neglect your pleasure, his eyes checking your reactions as his pride swelled from your raptured state. He takes a breath to tease you in between, his hoarse voice wavering against your heat, “Look at you, getting so worked up for me.”

“’m so close,” that was music to Digger’s ears, egging him on to keep up the pace.

Your whimpers rise into moans, and your thighs shiver under his grip and come undone. Digger doesn’t stop, pressing a firm hand on your stomach, keeping you in place so he rides out your high. You’re flushed in humility, but fuck it feels amazing. You break a sweat, shivering at the cooling of your hot skin, sighing in relief when Digger finally relaxes his hold on you. His face meets yours, your arousal coating the stubble on his chin and spreading to his chops. He is ferocious and light-headed – as if drunk on the taste of you.

“Hope you’ve still got some spunk in ya,” he pants, “I’m as stiff as a board here.”

Digger invites your hand to feel his erection. You didn’t think he could be harder than he was before, but he comes full of surprises. He slings the waistband of his trousers down and his cock springs free, twitching at the touch of your flinching fingers.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” Blessed by the man himself, his size was insane. You straighten in intimidation.

“I’ll go slow, okay? Just- fuck- I’m bursting at the seams here,” he begs, cupping your cheek with a reassuring hand.

You nod with a morbid curiosity, unable to deny the instinct to have him inside you, to feel every inch of him. Digger litters you in kisses, sloppy and idle as he dampens your cheeks and lips. Opening your legs wide, sucking in a breath, you watch as he lines his cock to your entrance. There was no fuss in sliding inside you, your dripping cunt lubing his tip and coating his shaft, the feeling of him inside you more filling than painful. It sets a spark in your mind, your eyes distant, the twitch of his cock against your walls melting your senses.

An unexpected moan escapes Digger’s lips, but he is attentive enough to coo for your attention, holding your face and bringing you back to earth.

“You still with me, hun?” He chuckles at your dazed look, trying to keep himself together as you tighten around him. You blink back to reality and wrap your legs around him, mewling at the slow thrusts coming into you. You eventually nod a reply, straining your neck to witness his cock buried inside you to train your hole for his massive size. He takes advantage of your position, locking a hand behind your head and picking up the pace. He is smitten by your squeaks. His rough hand clenches your hip, setting out to fuck you good. As you will soon learn, Digger has a habit of getting carried away. You learn a lot of dirty things about him that both shock you and fill you with sweetly sick lust.

Digger has you bent over the arm of the couch, his cock pummelling in and out of your abused cunt, muffling your feral moans with a hand clasped over your mouth. He arches your back and presses his lips against your ear, reminding you that he can see right through you.

“Is this what you wanted? To fuck you; get you drunk on my fat dick. Bet you didn’t think I had it in me.”

“You’re so good, so ‘fucking good,” you moan, your eyes glued to him with lust, a sly smile across your face. Digger sticks two fingers into your mouth, teasing your tongue to swirl around them, smirking at your eagerness.

“Shit, that’s enough to make me finish,” he says in a low voice, “And you wouldn’t want me cumming inside you, would ya?”

The way you clench around his dick and the sidious look in the dim light suggest the opposite. “No, come inside me,” you seal the deal.

“You’re so bloody dirty.” Digger’s eyes turn dark, his hand wrapping around your neck, rutting into you faster and harder than before. You see stars, giving into the numbing pleasure you succumb to. A dumbfound smile stretches across your lips once you feel the warmth of Digger’s seed filling your cunt, hitting against your womb. His weight falls on you momentarily, leaving kisses along your back while his energy is slowly sucked out of him. His cock slips out and before his heavy eyes close over, he gazes at the cum dripping from your slit, groping your ass for a better view.

Digger gathers his senses, only noticing you struggling to get up from your stiff knees. He brings you onto his lap, soothing your legs and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Well, that was something…” He chuckles, “Ya think we got a little carried away?”

“I think I’ll never be able to walk again,” you joke, yet anticipated the next few days entailing leg pain.

He felt guilty, knowing to make up for it he would need more than pizza and beer. He continues to sooth your legs, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“How’s about I run you a bath?” He suggests.

There he is again, that beacon of hope. He is going to find it hard to get rid of you now. “That’d be amazing.”

[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?”

[acapelladitty]

Captain Boomerang/Reader - Restraints (Kinktober #10)

Summary - You find Digger all tied up with nowhere to go and decide to tease him a little before setting him free. (This was a wee commission from the absolutely delightful @worri-wort who has fantastic prompts!)

The sigh of exasperation which flees your lips at the sight of him is one that you assume he must be used to by now. Planting your hands atop your hips, you meet his eyes and a silly thought flits through your mind that, at least this time, you’d been lucky enough to find him conscious and clothed.

“Really?”

Digger’s fingers flex in the closest thing he can manage to a shrug as his body writhes against the myriad of twisting, textured vines which pin him to the wall. A thick patch of ivy sits behind his frame, the flora providing a strong anchor for the vines to hold its unwilling prey steady as the base of it seems somehow embedded in the plaster of the wall. The scent of earth is heavy in the air, something primal and heady, and the strength of it makes you clear your throat delicately as you tap your feet against the flooring.

“I know I said I would behave.” Digger begins with the inflection of a petulant child. “But things happened, and I got into a little tussle with the plant bitch,” he smirks at the dismissive nickname as a flash of gold peeks free of his dingy teeth, “so she left me here like this. Told me to fucking rot.”

“And what did you do to deserve that?”

If anything, his grin grows wider and there’s something guilty hiding in the way his lips tilt to the side even as he keeps stubbornly silent.

“Well, that wasn’t smar-”

“Hey! I’m the victim here.”

“Maybe she’s right. Maybe you should be stuck there. God knows it might actually stop you from making a mess.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, darlin’. Come and untie me.” He winks and, as if to make his point, his wide body struggles against the vines for a solid moment to showcase just how trapped he was. “I’ll make it worth your while, sweetheart.”

Sleazy charm in full force, the pet names are desperate but effective as heat touches at your cheeks. A fact he is quick to notice as his expression lights up and his efforts to escape stop in an instant.

“Fine.” You agree, attempting to sound nonchalant about the whole thing and failing miserably.

The vines are rough against your hands, feeling oddly alive as you delicately and methodically unravel the most prominent ones which cross his chest and arms. So focused on the task, you push away the embarrassment which sits warmly in the pit of your stomach as your fingers brush across his thick body; first trailing across his tensed bicep before wrapping around his thigh to coax off a particularly tight vine from just below his crotch.

Heat radiates from him like a furnace. His naturally warm frame is soothing, and you enjoy the sensations of his skin peeking through the vines as you return to his wrists, unknotting and loosening with dexterous fingers as you work as quickly as you can.

“Get the lower ones first,” Digger cuts in, the words startling you from your focus, “they’re trying to strangle me goolies and it’s not something I want to live through.” His voice has deepened, the accent coming through more pronounced as he slurs over the syllable with a sudden roughness. It’s hot and you bite your lips as you follow his request.

Dipping your hands back to the vines on his thighs, a gasp snaps free of your throat as your wrist brushes the crotch of his jeans to alert you to the stiff bulge which juts out from the denim.

“Digger…”

“You’re the one touching me, love. Can’t blame a red-blooded man for getting’ a little hot under the collar and cracking a fat when-”

He breaks off into a throaty laugh as you bury your head against his chest, blocking out the worst of his vulgarity and hiding your embarrassment by focusing on the racing pulse of his heart.

His shirt is ripped, the pale blue fabric torn enough across his chest that the exposed reddish chest hair below tickles your cheek as you press against him.

“Babe, heads up! Look!”

Following his instructions, you tilt your head up and immediately feel his chapped lips pressing against your own as he uses the little bit of purchase you’ve given him to catch you by surprise.

His mutton chops are rough against your skin, scratching your cheeks as he devours your lips in a filthy kiss. He tastes of cheap beer and even cheaper cigarettes, the palette of a man long haven given up any pretence of giving a single fuck about his health, and it’s nasty in a way which makes your head spin. In an instant, your fingers are pressing into his reddened hair, the strands there sitting flat against his scalp due to his recently abandoned beanie as you hold him in place.

“Chances of a gobbie?” He growls as he pulls away. “Can’t get a guy all hard like this and not do anythin’ about it. What’ya say, baby?”

Fresh heat creeps along your cheeks as you shake your head. No way he was getting a blowjob. Not like this. Those were a reward for a good well done and he had really messed this little meeting he attended up. But the idea does have a little bit of appeal, particularly when he’s so restrained and unable to do anything and the mental image of you on your knees before him sparks a wicked heat in your chest.

Chuckling at your headshake, he offers you a childish pout.

“And here’s me thinking you liked me, darlin’. Not even chucking me a pity handy.”

Mischief rises in your thoughts, pushing past the embarrassment as a cheeky determination settles in your mind and your hand drops deftly to his crotch.

Unzipping his fly, you don’t miss the way his chest heaves in surprise as you pull his straining cock free. He’s already painfully hard and the obvious droplets of pre-cum which are smeared across his cockhead are hint enough to how turned on he is.

“Is this what the big baby wants?” You coo, rolling your fingers across his fat length as it juts free of his groin. The base of his cock boasts a health patch of russet pubic hair, and it tickles your fingers as your stroke away at him with a slow pace.

Panting already, his expression is slack and content to allow you to do what you want with him as he remains unable to move more than a few inches. A lurid, deep moan slips free of his lips as you rub your thumb across his cockhead, spreading the mess there further as arousal tugs at your own stomach, heat spreading across your skin.

“Just like that, babe.” Digger groans, his hips jerking slightly as he chases your hand. “So fucking good to me, so fucking good.”

Mouth going dry at the praise, you settle into a steady rhythm as you use his reactions to guide your actions. He makes a little whimper as you run your finger along the line where the shaft meets the head and the sound goes straight to your groin, inspiring you to do it two more times until the pre-cum is steadily leaking from his slit.

“Are you close, baby?”

“Yeah- oh yeah.” He mewls out, the noise utterly pathetic. “Gonna shoot off all over your hands, love.”

Before you could respond to that, he follows through with his claim and you feel his cock twitching in your palm as he comes. His release is stuttered; the mess coating your fingers as a few erratic droplets spray across his own stomach, staining both the shirt and vines which cover the wide area.

Continuing to stroke him through his orgasm, you keep your hand moving along his shaft until his groans have shifted from pleasure to discomfort as overstimulation touches at his heaving body. You release him quickly, your fingers shifting over to the final vine which holds his right hand in place as you pull it free with renewed strength - confidence thrumming through your veins.

Now freed, even if it were only one hand, his determination is immediate as his hand strikes forward to wrap around the back of your neck and a surprised squeak flees your lips as he pulls you flush against his frame. The heat radiating off him is even more pronounced and the blush in his cheeks is reflecting in the warmth of your own as he grinds his cock against your clothed thigh.

“Fancy a quick root, babe?” He asks, his one freed hand dropping to roll across your clothed chest as he squeezes the skin there roughly. “Give me five mins to recover and the little guy’ll be raring to go for another round.”

“Root.” You mutter, mildly pissed off at how good the pun is there.

Moving your feet quickly, you kick away the vines which are littered around the floor beneath you to make way for a decent space for a quick fuck once you’ve finished releasing him.

[pr4ktical]

let me help you, dove

captain boomerang x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw! porn with little plot, digger being lowkey bipolar, rough sex, face sitting, hair pulling, swearing, unprotected sex, reader enjoys his muscles a lot, big dicked digger

synopsis: coming home all pent up, tense from a long day of work. luckily, digger is more than happy to help!

Finally, you are home! You dig out the shiny house key from your purse. Finding them, you shove it into the keyhole and twist. The door to your home swings open with a tired creak as you step inside. The exhaustion from a long day of work is noticeable as you drag yourself inside. You kick off your heels, set your purse down, and hang your jacket up.

Your lovely husband appears suddenly, Digger Harkness, wearing that tight tank top he always wears. The top showcases his broad, strong shoulders and muscular arms covered in tattoos. His dark brown eyes are bright, filled with a mischievous glint. His face is framed with his signature mutton chops and unkempt hair that falls in a small tangle around his face. He walks over by the door, a smirk spreading across his face. The tension in your body is apparent. “Hello lovely,”

His smirk grows wider, voice dropping to a gravelly low that sends shivers down your tense spine. “I can tell you’re tense, love,” he whispers, stepping closer to you. His gaze is dark, a seductive gleam in his eyes as he leans closer, his muscles flexing under his tank top. “I know a few things that could help you relax, sweets,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “I could give you a massage,” he suggests, his hand running down your arm in a slow, tantalizing stroke, “or perhaps something more.. intimate.” He leans in even closer, his mouth at your ear as he whispers, “I’m up for anything, love."

At his words, a blush spreads across your cheeks, the heat of his touch and the husky tone of his voice making you feel both flustered and excited. You nod your head, cheeks flushed pink, “Y-yeah, that sounds…that sounds good..” Digger gives you a lopsided grin, his eyes shining as he sees her flustered response. His tone is teasing, “What’s that?” he says, leaning in close, “you’ll have to speak up, doll.” He reaches out, his hand caressing your cheek, “I want to hear you say it.” At his encouragement, you take a deep breath, voice trembling as you speak. “I want..I want you, right now. More.. Intimate.” The words escape your lips in a low whisper, looking down at your feet the entire time.

A grin spreads across his face, eyes darkening with desire, “Atta girl.” He takes your hand, leading you through the house and into your bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The room is dim, lit only by the faint moonlight filtering in through the window. He leads you to the bed and pushes you gently onto the bed, crawling on top of you, body pressing against yours. His hands roam over your body, practically ripping off your shirt as he presses his mouth to yours in a hungry kiss. His touch is rough, his hands exploring your skin under your shirt. You can feel his hard dick pressing against you, his breath comes in quick pants as the kiss deepens. His hands eventually move lower, pulling down your pants as he then goes down to press his mouth to your neck, biting and nipping at the sensitive skin there.

He soon lifts his head, those same desired filled eyes you saw earlier. He smiles sleazily, pushing you gently off of him to lean on the bed. His body stretching out on the bed as he motions you to come close again. “Come, take a seat.” He says, a cheeky grin on his face as he motions you to his face. “I want you here, dove.”

You strip down to nothing with anticipation, throwing your bra and panties to the floor. You crawl up to straddle his face, feeling the heat emanating from his body. He wraps his big arms around your plush thighs as he forces you down. You feel your clit brush lightly over his nose. Quickly, Digger’s tongue flicked against your clit, drawing a shuddering moan from your lips. The warmth and wetness of his mouth, a stark contrast to the tension you’d carried in your body all day. With each flick, his fingers found their way to your breasts, teasing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The dual sensations raced through your body, a dance of pleasure that was on the edge of your control.

You rocked your hips, feeling the need to grind against his face, seeking the release you craved. Digger’s hands roamed, gripping your ass, holding you closer, his nose brushing against your swollen lips, and his mutton chops tickling your inner thighs. The room was filled with the erotic symphony of your moans and the slurping noses as Digger worked his magic.

Digger’s hands clenched tighter on your ass, his bearded face buried between your legs, and his tongue working tirelessly. Digger’s voice rumbled against your heated flesh, “That's it love, let it go, let it allllllll go.” His words were gentle, yet firm, urging you to release your pent up tension. His tongue thrusts deep inside you, mirroring your own rhythm. You gripped his hair, hard while looking him in the eyes. You felt him smirk underneath you as you made eye contact. You threw your head back and grinded against his face. The room dissolved around you, replaced by the white-hot intensity of your arousal. You arch your back and cry out, your body convulsing. Your juices flowing in a hot spray, soaking Digger and the sheets beneath you. Digger's eyes widened in astonishment, a look of pure satisfaction crossing his features.

The world came back to focus as you collapsed forward, pushing Digger off as your body trembled. “Fuck, I didn’t know you could squirt.” He laughs, making you giggle as well. “I guess you unlocked a new side of me we both didn’t know about.” You both smile. He goes down again and slowly licked you clean, his nose bumped into your sensitive clit a couple times, making your hips spasm and buck. “Feel better, dove?” he asked, a satisfied grin on his face. You nodded, unable to speak as you caught your breath and climbed off of him. He sits up, your arousal coating his nose, mouth, and beard. You help him by licking it off with a prideful grin. As you do, you feel something strain underneath you. You look down to see his almost painful hard on, causing another spike of arousal to drip out of you. You can’t help but let your eyes linger, and he notices the direction of your gaze.

A smirk forms on his lips, he caresses your face, “Ay, Don’t worry ‘bout it love, I can wait till morning. You need your rest.” He gently pushes your hair away from sticking to your sweaty forehead, his touch tender despite your perceived rejection. You pout, not quite ready to let the night end just yet. “But, I want to help you,” you protest, your voice thick with desire. Digger’s smirk only widens, and he shifts. “Alright, but only because you asked so sweetly.” He winks, and you can’t help but giggle. You help him remove his baggy sweatpants as he removes his tank top. You take a moment to admire the sight before you. The contrast of his muscular frame and the vivid artwork covering it can’t help but impress you every time.

You slide off the bed and get onto your knees, intent on showing your appreciation. Digger’s cock, now fully erect, beckons you forward, and you don’t hesitate to oblige. As you wrap your hand around his hard cock, you lean in to run your tongue along the veiny length, eliciting a low groan from him. The taste and feel of him on your tongue sends shivers down your spine, making your desire to please him spike. You take him in your mouth, deeper and deeper, your throat working to accommodate his girth. His hands thread throughout your hair, guiding your movements as you bob your head, worshiping him with your mouth.

The sensation of your warm mouth sends him to the edge of climaxing, but he wants this to last, to savor every moment of your attention. He pulls you off, leaving you both panting. “Enough of this,” he grows, hoisting you back onto the bed, flipping you on your hands and knees and positioning himself between your legs. He lines up his thick cock with your slick entrance, and with one powerful thrust, you’re both consumed with lust. Your moans fill the room, the rhythm of his hips driving him deeper, as Digger’s hands grip your waist, his thrusts matching his urgency. The sounds of sweaty skin slapping against skin fill the quiet room as you both lose yourselves. Digger grips your hair and forces you to look up at him, your back arching even more.

“Look at me, doll.” he commands, his voice deep and commanding. “Feel me filling you up, fuck..” He looks down, watching as his dick disappears into your tight cunt. Your eyes lock with his as he pounds into you with vigor. The intensity is overwhelming, every thrust driving you closer to the edge. Sweat glistens on your skin, the skin slapping grows louder as the arousal of yours mixes with his sweat. The familiar feeling of the coil in your core tightening with each thrust is apparent. Diggers pace quickens even faster, his grip on your hair tightening as well, his own release drawing near.

“Fuck, dove,” he growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he is driven closer to his own climax. “Take it. Take my cum, like a, Good. Fucking. Girl.” He emphasizes by thrusting harder on each word. Your nerves are still singing with pleasure, your body responds to his dirty talk. Digger’s pace becomes erratic and frantic, his breathing ragged as he pushes you both higher. “Fuck, can I come inside love…need..” He breathes out. You nod frantically, “Fuck..come inside me, please George..need it.” He nods and throws his head back, his grip on your waist tightens to the point where his knuckles turn white. You shatter first, the tension within you exploding into a million fragments. as the same orgasm rips through your body. Your entire body trembles , every muscle tensing in unison. Your back arches off the bed, a loud moan ripped out of your lips as the waves of pleasure crash over you. Your pussy clenches around Digger’s cock, milking him as the orgasm overtakes your senses. He pulls back to the point where he is almost all the way out, then with one powerful thrust, he plunges back into you. The intense sensation, combined with the final thrust, sends Digger over the edge. His cock pulses inside you, filling you with his seed as you both ride out the crest of your orgasms. The room fills with the sounds of your cries and Digger’s deep, guttural groans.

Digger pulls out of you, his cock glistening with your fluids. He gets up to get a warm cloth. He comes back to clean you up, wiping your thighs gently. “You are so beautiful, honey.” he murmurs, a sincere admiration in his voice as he lays the cloth aside and pulls you close once again. You snuggle against his chest, relishing the warmth and safety his embrace provides. The gentle caresses of his big hands along your back, the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat, and the sound of his deep, even breathing work together to create an atmosphere of comfort and peace for you.

thank you all! sorry haven't posted in a while, school has been beating my ass and I haven't been motivated to write! hopefully i will get out of writers block soon.

[boomerangsexymancompetition]

ROUND 2 MATCH 5

[many-fandoms-lover]

We also know that Boomer is cute and charming in his own way

Date, Digger Style

KTJL!Boomer x Fem!Reader, word count: 6k hi i am sorry, this was supposed to be like. a lil silly thing about what a first date with george might be like. and it ended up being 6k words. i just want him so bad it makes me look stupid quite honestly and i am ok with that 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: sleazy behaviour, groping, tongue kissing, just the tip and then not just the tip but agreeably so, lots of physical affection, reader has tits and a vagina, reader is referred to with feminine pet names, descriptions of a gross kitchen, also let's pretend that he's always a lil bit drunk so his drunk driving seems like the normal state of things. he's a villain. he's allowed to break laws lmao (and it's fiction, so i'm allowed to decide what alcohol does to him)

Sitting on the edge of your sofa, you took a quick look at your phone to check the time and to see if you had missed any messages. Nothing. Not even a quick courtesy text with "on my way" typed hastily, or auto filled. You'd been sitting there for twenty minutes already, with no sign of George. If this was what he considered a good start to your first formal 'date' then you two were perhaps too different after all to make this work. He was laid back, to a flaw. Horizontal. And you were more organised, at least more so than George Harkness.

Just as you began typing out a message, you heard the tell-tale screech of the tyres on his van, followed by the rumbling of the engine as he put the brakes on and came out of the creaking door. The sharp buzz at your door was enough for you to know your suspicions were right, and without answering it, you headed downstairs. At the door, you could see Digger, picking at his teeth and tucking the stray strands of hair back under the rim of his hat before he noticed you and struck a pose, goofy smile plastered onto his face.

He moved to grab you when you met him on the steps leading up to your building, but you dodged him, spitting his nickname at him.

"Digger."

"Aw, are you mad cos I'm late? You're not some bloody princess, I think you can wait five minutes!"

"Twenty minutes."

"Twenty, the- Twenty!?"

His eyes were wide as he looked to you, and you offered a solemn and unimpressed nod in response.

"Fuck... alright, that is a bit much. This'll be worth it though, I promise."

Raising an eyebrow, you silently questioned that. You'd known him for a while now, skirted around the conversation, flirted constantly, but turned him down at every offer of a date. And now, when you had finally agreed and given in to his constant pestering, he was going to show up late and not even dressed differently or in clean clothes? You weren't sure it would be worth it. But, if all else failed, you could always count on him to make you laugh, or at very least conjure up a smile. And despite wanting to still maintain an exterior of disappointment, you could feel the corners of your mouth lifting as he opened up the passenger door and gestured to it with his arm, bowing low.

"M'lady, your carriage awaits."

As you stepped up and into the front of the van, the smell was the first thing that hit you. Stale beer, sweat, and about five other scents just indistinct enough to elude your keen nose. Trying not to think about it, you turned to grab your seatbelt and noticed, out of the corner of your eye, that the back of the truck was filled with empty beer cans and bottles, piles of clothing, some dirty and some clean. And in the middle of it all, a mattress, some pillows, and a scattering of sheets.

"Do you live in here?"

"Don't worry about it, babe."

Before you could ask him any follow up questions, he pulled away from the kerb with a stuttering acceleration, and carelessly pulled into traffic. After a few minutes of teeth grinding, life-threatening driving at high speed, he pulled off the main roads and began taking back streets.

Granted, you didn't know where you were going yet, since Digger was insistent on keeping it as a surprise, you still assumed that after ten minutes of nothing but roads dotted with potholes and routes plagued by speedbumps that it was surely quicker to have stayed on the main route until you were closer. However, it became clear that there were intentions behind this path after all, when you turned to question George about the route and found him quickly glancing from the road to your chest, smiling wider every time a bump jostled your body, causing your breasts to jiggle. With a heavy sigh, you turned to look out of the window, concealing the smile that threatened to give away your façade. There was no way you could let him know how oddly flattering you found his constant gawking, that would be a nightmare.

When the van stopped at a red light, you spoke, still looking out of the window, to try and get Digger to tell you where you were going.

"I just would feel better knowing how long we've got left to drive is all."

He reached over to you, placing his hand on your thigh and pressing his fingers and thumb together, squeezing the ample flesh.

"Listen, don't worry about it, we're almost there."

His palm pressed down and skimmed further up your leg, and as you turned to catch his eye, hoping to at least shame him into not continuing his bold heavy petting, you were instead met with his lopsided, careless grin. With one hand on the steering wheel and one permanently on your thigh, he continued driving for another ten minutes, until you were well on the outskirts of the city. When the van finally stopped, you could still hear the tinny rumbling and sharp clinking of the empty bottles and cans bashing around in the back, feeling like it had shrilly inserted itself permanently into your head. But once you had stepped out of the van and the fresh air, plus the odd stench, hit you, you could hear yourself think clear enough to know that you were definitely beginning to regret this decision once more.

"Told ya we wouldn't be much longer! We're here!"

"Where is here?"

"About twenty minutes outside Gotham."

"Digger."

He slapped his hand on your back and pulled you into a side hug, dragging you along as he walked towards the door of the flat roof building with broken neon lights that stood in front of you.

"Ah, come on babe! Get a sense of humour, or you'll always look fuckin' miserable!"

You weren't sure if he could hear your sighing over the sound of the gravel as you made your way to the front door, and he definitely couldn't hear the louder second one you let out when you got inside. The one that was cut short when you realised you could taste the smell that lingered on the air.

Taking your hand, an oddly gentle move from Digger. The moment was gone quickly when he smacked your ass as he ushered you into the dingiest looking booth at the back of the bar.

"George, really? Here?"

"Yeah, babe! This place is great. Cheap beer, good food. I promise, you just gotta trust me, alright?"

Taking a quick look around the place told you otherwise. But there was just something about him you found hard to say no to. Which you imagined would land you in much bigger problems later on, but for now, potential food poisoning and a hangover of the worst order seemed like a fair risk for what would no doubt be a fun night regardless. It always was with George.

"Aw, I know that face! You're on board! Right, I'm gonna go to the bar and get us some drinks and food."

"I don't know what I want though, I haven't looked at the menu."

"Don't have to, I'm getting us the usual. You'll like it, tr-"

"Trust you, yes, I know."

With a wink, he slid out of the booth and you watched him make his way to the bar, leaning on it with his oh-so-cocky attitude as he ordered for you. And when he sat back down, he slid a pint in front of you and began chugging at his own. Looking over the tip of your glass as you sipped, you tried to get a glimpse at the kitchen. From what you could see, it looked like the kind of place that might give any decent health inspector an aneurysm. The chef's clothes were dirty, the walls were a stained yellow colour that seemed as though it was dripping down the walls, and every surface had a strange assortment of crumbs and stains on it. But still, you persevered.

And still, when the plates were slammed down on the table in front of you by the uninterested waitress, you were optimistic. Because you were determined to have a nice time. It was likely that which annoyed you the most of all, because the moment you bit into the greasy sandwich you didn't care in the slightest what kind of health hazard it was prepared in. You just wanted more.

"See, told you it was good."

Nodding in agreement, mouth too full to speak, you swallowed down the rest of the sandwich, although by the time you had finished it and your accompanying beer, Digger was already onto his third pint, and the sandwich was but a memory. Until he burped and you could smell it on his breath, something he found hilarious.

"Lighten up! You try, give it your best shot."

"I'm not having a burping contest with you, George. We're on a date."

"Yeah, but you're on a date with Digger. Way more fun, far less stuffy. Go on."

You mustered up the best you had to offer, cheese and beer and lettuce the most noted flavours in the air you expelled. Closing his eyes for a moment, Digger reached out across the table and took your hands.

"That was, without a doubt... the most pathetic fuckin' burp ever. We gotta get you another drink!"

Before you could say anything, he was already shuffling out of the booth and shakily making his way back to the bar. A bad decision being made and you couldn't really stop him. He could handle his alcohol, definitely, you'd seen him do it a number of times before. Digger could put away what might kill a lesser, for want of a better word, man. But it didn't make him any easier to be around. You'd already found yourself flushing hot, cheeks darkening, a heat building in your stomach with each lingering touch or flirtatious stare. So far this evening, you'd almost kissed him twice. It wasn't going to be any easier to prolong what you felt was the inevitable if he got far too drunk and became his usual, handsy self.

Of course, that's exactly what did happen. One more pint in and Digger was all over you in the booth. He'd leaned in at first to say something to you, speaking over the noise of the bar, close to your ear, his arm reaching up and around you and pulling you close and then keeping you there. As his fingers stroked at your shoulder, the other hand fell to your thigh, periodically squeezing it between his fingers and thumb. And every time you got distracted by how far up your thigh he was snaking his palm, fingers splayed out, pinkie grazing over your crotch, his other hand would pull your attention away as his fingertips skimmed over the top of your breasts.

It was difficult to try and hold him off. You were both tipsy, or at least you were tipsy, Digger seemed to be wasted. No good decision could come from that. But the way he touched you, the way he smelled as he leaned in, sweat, cheap body spray, acrid beer, it was intoxicating. If you'd been any less sober you might have leaned in then and there in the booth to kiss him, tasting the alcohol on his tongue, letting him put his hands all over you, anywhere, anywhere. But luckily, before you could make what you knew was a mistake, he sat back and laughed, one loud and sharp 'ha'.

"I fuckin' love this song, babe! C'mon!"

Before you could argue otherwise, you were being dragged out of the booth to join Digger on the tiny dance floor in front of the band. The song was difficult to dance to, at least you had assumed, given the heavy rock riffs that underlined the inaudible, high volume lyrics. But George wasn't deterred. It was almost endearing, how horrendously embarrassing he was, standing there with his air guitar, throwing goat horns at the band as he bounced on the spot. Cute, nearly. But mercifully cut short as the song ended.

"Aw, just as I was finding my groove."

You smiled at him, rubbing his shoulder in sympathy, biting your inner cheek as you felt how strong he was, impressed by his muscular arm as you let your hand slip down to graze over it.

"A real shame, George. Let's go back to- "

The band started up again, this time, a slower song, one that lent itself well to the kind of 'end of prom' vibes all young lovers were hoping for. And before you could finish your suggestion of heading back to the booth, Digger had pulled you close, his arms around your back, falling to your waist as he swayed back and forth. It could have been dancing, it could have been the uncoordinated shuffling of a man who had one too many beers, but either way, you leaned into it, allowing your head to rest against his chest while you placed your hands, linked together, at the nape of his neck.

It was almost too romantic, in its own, strange way. The dim lights, the other couples around you, the unique twang on the guitars, the stench of the greasy food, and the way George kept his hips, his crotch, pressed tight to you as you leaned against him. Not particularly from a storybook romance, but perfect all the same. You'd known this would happen. One date, and you were already falling for him. Not because of anything he'd done, but because deep down you knew you had been into him, since almost the moment you'd met. But you'd fought it, because men like George Harkness, you assumed, weren't the kind of nice boy you dated.

But here he was, holding you, swaying you, sighing softly as the music swelled. Granted the movements weren't exactly graceful, but they were surprisingly fluid, as though he might be good at dancing when he was sober. Yet another surprise for you to learn about, but obviously not right now. He was trying though, his hands at a respectable height, his head leaning on your shoulder. Every so often, he nuzzled into your cheek, placing a soft kiss to it when the notion took him. And when the song finished, you could hear his words clear, spoken gently into your ear.

"You wanna head out?"

You weren't sure if that was "out" as in "get some fresh air" or "out" as in "let's head home, yours or mine" but either option seemed good. The last remaining bit of sun and a soothing breeze might be enough to sober George up before you brought him back in for more dancing. And if it didn't, you were happy to take him to your place for a coffee, nothing more. Although, you were potentially considering letting him sleep on the sofa. You couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to nurse a hangover in the back of his van.

Outside, finally able to breathe without choking on the stench or the thickness of the air, you watched as Digger shielded his eyes from the sky. His stumbling stopped, and he began walking with his usual confidence, almost sobering up immediately in the light of the day.

"Christ! Still pretty bright out here..."

"Yeah, it's not that late. You tapping out early, George?"

"Nah, nah. Not at all! If I've got you for the night, then I'm havin' you for the night. C'mon, I know a place."

Admittedly, and strangely enough, you really hadn't had enough of him yet. It was one of the few things you agreed on, actually. This was supposed to be a date, you'd set aside the evening for it, so you were keen to make it last as long as possible. You couldn't let George know that, though. Keeping the upperhand seemed to be key with him, so you offered him a reluctant smile and rolled your eyes dramatically.

"Well, I suppose so."

Stepping up into the passenger seat of his van you caught him smiling back at you, knowingly. You weren't kidding him, he wasn't as stupid as he seemed at first pass, but he was kind enough to let you keep up the ruse. It didn't stop him getting a little dig in at you, however.

"Are you sure? If you're not keen I can take you home, babe. Wouldn't want you to be bored or something."

"And where are you planning on taking me that isn't boring, then?"

"Eh... just a little spot I know of. Quiet, secluded. Up that back road to the overlook. But again, if you're not into it..."

"No, no. It sounds... well, it doesn't sound boring, anyway."

Digger laughed, starting up the van which groaned horrendously before sputtering to life. Before he drove off, he turned to you and winked.

"Definitely won't be, it never is with me, babe."

Pulling out of the parking lot, he turned away from the city and onto the quieter roads which led out past the city lines and into the expansive countryside that secluded Gotham from the rest of the world. From the window, you watched the sun slowly setting, clouds turning purple and navy as they pushed in from the sides like curtains on a stage show. You had all the time in the world to gaze peacefully, as George was driving in complete silence, way below the speed limit, focusing intensely on the road. He'd seemed to sober up once you were out of the bar, but you didn't want to distract him while he was doing his best to keep you both alive.

The van bounced along a short dirt trail until it stopped in a small clearing, surrounded by trees on all sides and far above the dim, intrusive glow of the city, which buzzed against the now deep, navy sky. Shutting off the engine, George turned and shot you a smile, eyebrows raised playfully, before he leapt out. He walked quickly to the back of the van and you followed, waiting patiently as he opened the two back doors wide, finally giving you a better look at what had been rolling around there the whole time he had been driving.

There wasn't much you could think to say, being of the opinion that you should only speak if you had kind things to say. From where you were standing, you could definitely tell that you had been correct in your earlier assumptions. This was where he lived. His rolling apartment. Convenient, yes. But it was a long way away from being one of the trendy 'tiny homes' you'd seen. The walls were adorned with four posters in total, all of them the kind of cheap standards you would expect in the bargain bin of some ancient music store, miscellaneous women in very little clothing gazing out as seductively as they could from the airbrushed backdrops. On the floor, there was a stick and poke tattoo kit that looked like it might be the source of several new variants of hepatitis, and it was littered with empty beer bottles and cans, some of which may have been half-full at the point he decided to drive off given how sticky the surfaces looked. And to top it off, there was a worn out mattress. No sheets on it, no sheets around it save for one scruffy blanket. It was covered in stains that you couldn't quite place, which matched the single, dented and almost flat pillow that lay haphazardly to the side.

"You live like this?"

That was what you had wanted to say, but again, your polite nature stopped you.

"Handy to just get in the van and sleep, or get out of bed and go."

George smiled, looking oddly proud of himself.

"See, you get it. You won't believe the amount of people who have been put off by- uh... well..."

He looked to the ground, rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand.

"Not that there's been that many people I've invited into- A-and not that there haven't been any people that have been-"

"George."

You placed a hand on his shoulder and raised your eyebrows, offering him a sympathetic grin. He took the out, thankful that you'd put an end to his suffering, and reached in for the blanket, placing it flat over the top of the bed before offering his hand to you. Taking it, he helped you shift yourself into the back of the van, watching as you got comfortable on the mattress as best as you could, at which point he joined you.

Leaning back on his arms, he looked to the sky, sitting in silence for a few minutes. You had joined him, watching the stars start to sparkle as they became visible against the darkening backdrop. At some point, you realised that he was staring at you, and you wondered how long you'd had his gaze trained on the side of your head. Not on any other part of your body, you noted. He was looking at your face, gazing at your eyes. When you turned, you caught his stare immediately, smiling softly when he blinked and looked away with a cough meant to clear the air of the awkwardness he was bringing about.

Rooting around behind him, he eventually found two unopened beer cans, both of which were loose amongst the rest of his belongings. Keeping one for himself, he passed the other to you. He raised his, tipping his head with a 'cheers' and then cracked it open. You watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, a small trickle of foam slipping past his lips and down his chin. The urge to lean in and lick it off was disturbing, most of all because you felt yourself moving towards him before you even realised it. Settling back down into the strange romance of the moment, you pulled the tab on your own can.

The immediate explosion, the build up of pressure and gasses from the can being jostled around as you drove up the bumpy, dirt track to the spot you now sat in, left you in shock. Your shirt was soaked, completely, and the cool air was already beginning to chill your body. You blinked in shock, watching as Boomer tried to conceal his giggles while he stood up.

"Take your shirt off."

Looking to him, you raised an eyebrow, a look that said "is this really how you're going to make that move?" in a way that he read almost straight away. He began unzipping his blue hoodie, turning from you and passing it behind him, generously, and uncharacteristically, offering you some privacy.

Taking it from him, you quickly made the swap, your body exposed to the cold night air only briefly before you zipped up the hoodie, still warm from Digger's body. You tucked your bra and shirt under the mattress, making a mental note to collect them before you were home, hoping they would be dry. Making sure the zip was up completely, not offering any suggestive cleavage for Digger to hook his ideas into, you settled yourself, noticing that you were smiling. You could smell him on the fabric that covered your body. Beer, sweat, lingering smoke, an acrid smell you couldn't quite place and a sweet one on top of that. As the fabric grazed over you, you could feel your nipples hardening. It wasn't the cold though, it was faint arousal at the way you felt so close to him.

"You done yet, you're only putting a hoodie on!"

"Shit, yeah, sorry."

"I can look?"

He raised his hands, pulling them from his pockets and holding them up to his side, questioningly.

"Mhm, yeah."

When he was facing you again, he let his lips turn into an appreciative expression.

"Looks good. Suits you!"

Thudding back down beside you, George immediately lifted his arm up, wrapping it around your body and pulling you close. You found yourself settling into the hug, a natural embrace, one that made your heart flutter slightly as you let your head rest entirely against him. And then it happened, the moment that secured your confusion about him and his intentions. He sighed wistfully. So deep and joyous, his fingers digging into your arm to let you know you were the reason for the warmth spreading through him.

"It's nice out here, you can actually see the stars. Couldn't tell you what any of them were though."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

He turned slightly to look at you.

"What?"

"What? What are you doing? You brought me up here to look at the stars?"

George narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing in confusion and slight irritation.

"Yeah! I thought it would be romantic!"

"Exactly!"

"Exa-... what?"

"You're so confusing. This whole evening, you yourself, it's not how I thought it would be. I mean, it wouldn't be you without the occasional grope and cheeky wink, but you've been so... You're so... It's weird to see you being so..."

Digger's hand fell to your thigh, a light pressure aiming to calm you down.

"So what?"

You couldn't answer it, because you weren't even able to settle on a definitive answer yourself.

So confusing?

So disgusting?

So gentlemanly?

So romantic?

So hot?

All of that and more.

And when words had failed you, you decided that you'd have to express your feelings another way.

It was less of a romantic, graceful move and more that you sank into him, falling against his body, your lips luckily making contact with his as you both found your way in the kiss. Neither of you expected it, both of you surprised. The tenderness, the hunger behind it. You could taste everything about him, smell him even better than you had when you had put on his hoodie. You expected he was experiencing the same.

Digger fell back, his hands catching your waist as he pulled you with him, both of you laying now on the mattress in the back of his van. His hands pawed, grabbed, skimmed over you, oddly restrained in fact. That was until you shifted yourself up and onto him, straddling his hips and staring down at him, panting heavily as you both caught your breath and took stock of the situation you were now in. His hands on your waist made their way up to your shoulders, your neck, cupping your cheeks as he grinned at you. Watching your face, your expression, for any subtle changes as he let his hands trail back down your front, fingers catching on to the zip of his hoodie and pulling it down slowly, opening it to expose you to him before he cupped at your breasts as you bit your lip.

"Fuck me..."

Digger let out a low groan that followed his short, to the point statement. His fingers circled your nipples, tightening around them as he teased you. His hips bucked up, jostling you, letting you feel how hard he was. You could tell just from that motion that the rumours about how gifted he was had truth behind them.

Bending down to kiss him again, you let your tongue slip past his lips, his own meeting in your mouth. He tasted divine. Sweet, but acidic. Earthy almost, definitely addictive. Everything felt dream like, surreal. Mostly, you assumed, because you were doing something you'd never dream of, something you knew was ill-advised, a little bit silly, embarrassing in the right company. But it was hard to care.

You were quickly brought out of the dream like state however, as you felt Digger's hands between both of your crotches, unbuckling his belt and fiddling with the zipper on his jeans.

"Wait... on the first date? You think you've charmed me enough for that?"

With the smug, self-satisfied grin you had grown oddly fond of, George looked into your eyes as he spoke.

"I think you started this, so it's a pretty good indication of how much I've charmed you."

He winked as he let his fingers tug at the waistband of your own pants, pulling at them as you leaned in to another kiss. Your attempts to stop him, or at least to pretend that was your intention, were put to one side as your body reacted to the feeling of the cool air against your bare skin, his hands, rougher than you expected, holding your thighs, pulling your pants down further until he needed you to move.

"Well... have I charmed the pants off you at least?"

Smiling back at him, you nodded your head from side to side as though you were weighing up his efforts over the evening.

"I suppose you have charmed the pants off me, yes. But... I'm not sure how much further your winning personality has gotten you."

"There's plenty of time for me to catch up, then."

Clumsily, and with very little grace, you shifted and removed your pants, blushing as you noticed Digger watching you intensely, taking note of every movement, every second of you undresssing, as though you were offering him the performance of a lifetime. As you steadied yourself, he hooked his fingers into the band of your underwear and pulled you back to him, landing you flat on top o f his body, your hands on his chest.

Teasing at the band of your panties, he dipped two fingers underneath the fabric, skating over your mound and down to your lips, stroking them gently before spreading them apart. He rubbed one finger up and down, collecting your slick as he licked his lips, desperate to know how you tasted. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he ran them on his tongue, sucking them with his eyes rolling back.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me."

He continued unzipping his pants and pulling them down, boxers included, to reveal his more than impressive cock. At least ten inches, easily, thick, perfect, topped with a tuft of almost flaming red hair. Trying to control yourself, you leaned back.

"What are you planning on doing with that, Harkness?"

He squirmed, pressing his eyes shut and biting his lip before he managed to strain himself enough to speak.

"I just want... I want you... touch it... feel you... something... come on, please!"

Shuffling forward, teasing him knowingly as you felt his head, his length, against your thighs, you mused out loud, humming as though you were actually considering it, as though you hadn't already made your mind up yet.

"I suppose... this was a pleasant enough date. I could give you something, throw you a bone."

He nodded furiously below you, muttering his words of agreement.

"But! Just the tip. I'm not sure how much more of that I could take. It should come with a warning."

George actually blushed, looking away from you for a moment, as though the comment had genuinely embarrassed him. It did seem odd to you in that moment that he wasn't constantly bragging about his prowess in that area. He struck you as exactly the kind of person who would mention the size of his cock at any opportunity. You wondered if had the effect on others that it had on you. It was daunting, a little bit nerve-wracking. How many of the few people who had made it this far had given up at the sight of it, you wondered.

Most, you assumed, as despite how desperate he seemed to fuck you, he agreed enthusiastically, happy to be offered any opportunity to get as close to you as possible. He was already pulling at your underwear, grasping at it, trying to pull it down before deciding to push it to the side as he lined up the head of his cock with your swollen lips.

Looking directly at you he maintained the intense eye contact as he slid himself between your lips, pushing at your tight entrance slowly, carefully, only allowing his head to enter you. It felt amazing. So good, better than you thought. It stretched, filled you up, and that was ten percent of what he had to give. He hissed, gritting his teeth in concentration, trying his hardest not to move his hips, to buck them, to push himself any further inside of you.

As you balanced yourself, trying to contend with the little of him that was inside of you, he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing it, making you twitch, contracting against him, tightening the grip your cunt had on his head. As he groaned, you couldn't help yourself anymore. You wanted him, all of him. You were willing to risk it.

"God, George... just fuck me."

"Wh-what?"

"Fuck me! Just..."

Realising you might need to take matters into your own hands, you let yourself slide down his cock, each inch stretching you further, a shockwave of pain followed by dull throbs of ache and arousal coarsed through your body, the pit of your stomach feeling pressed, your insides stuffed with him. Llike you were being entirely consumed, enveloped, in George Harkness.

"Christ..."

It was all he could manage with the limited breath he had, his whole body stopping any other function to focus on not letting himself cum inside of you immediatel. The sudden warmth, the tight, wet embrace, the way you leaned back, breasts bouncing as helped yourself to him, riding his cock as he lay back and held your hips. His thumbs, stroking against your skin, where the top of your thighs met your lower stomach, feeling your own desperation as you worked him harder, faster, palms resting on his chest to balance yourself as you took everything he had.

Brows furrowed in concentration, pursuing your orgasm, you wailed as his fingers found their way back to your nipples, teasing them, grabbing at your breasts as you rolled your hips and felt his cock twitching agaisnt your walls. It hurt, but in a way that was delicious, a way that felt like it should be borderline illegal, like most things that provided such a wonderful, addictive experience were. But there you were, enjoying it. Loudly, explicitly. And very publicly. It didn't matter to you, and it really didn't seem to matter to George. You were quite happy to scream it from the rooftops then and there, how much you were enjoying it. Being fucked by Captain Boomerang, as ridiculous as his name always seemed to you. You'd be quite content to tell everyone that he was making you cum, that he was one stroke of his thumb against your erect nipples, one tap of his cock against the exact spot inside of you, from losing all composure.

"George... George..."

"Yeah... yeah, it's good... eh? I'm good."

"Fuck, you are. Yeah. Yes! Yes!"

One final, loud, resounding 'yes' echoed around you, filling the air, bursting through the trees. You imagined that anyone within a five mile radius might have heard Digger coming. His cock, falling from you against his body, still dripping with your slick, still spurting streams of his thick, white cum all over his abdomen, covering his thick pubic hair. His hands, still embedded in your skin, creating deep, red marks where the grip was far too tight, stinging so perfectly pleasantly.

Your own notes of pleasure hadn't exactly been all that much quieter than his own, but still drowned out by the amped up grunting and wailing of George. At least you could hold that saving grace. Allow yourself to cling to that modicum of your dignity.

Because you certainly weren't bothered about any other facets of it, as you slid down beside George on the dingy mattress, curling around his body, hand on his chest, smugly satisfied to know that you had contributed to the stains that would no doubt be a permanent feature.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Its Hard to Say I Do When I Dont

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/mMal7bG by Ultra_Gravity Evette Vernon, AKA Roach-Girl, has been in Arkham Asylum for 3 years. She's chosen to be apart of "Task Force X", where she meets George "Digger" Harkness. Uhm idfk hijinks ensue. Words: 1010, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League (Video Game), Batman: Arkham (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M Characters: George "Digger" Harkness, Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Harleen Quinzel, Floyd Lawton, Nanaue Sha'ark, Amanda Waller, Diana (Wonder Woman), Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen, John Stewart (DCU) Relationships: George "Digger" Harkness/Original Female Character(s), George "Digger" Harkness/Harleen Quinzel, George "Digger" Harkness/Original Character(s), George "Digger" Harkness/Floyd Lawton, Floyd Lawton/Harleen Quinzel, Harleen Quinzel/Original Female Character(s), Floyd Lawton/Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, How Do I Tag, My First Fanfic, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Hurt No Comfort read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/mMal7bG

[issdisgrace]

​REQUEST INFO

I want to start off with there is no guarantee that your request will be done. I do the majority of what is requested, but sometimes I don’t like the request or have no idea what to write for the request. Also, don’t expect your request to be posted right away. I like to have a backlog of fics so I always have something to post. So your request will be put into the backlog until I decide to post it. And if you never see your request, then I probably didn’t write it. But know I appreciate all your guys’ requests even if I didn’t do them. 

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Smut, fluff, comfort, light angst

Monogamous and Polyamorous

Any sexuality (other than straight, duh)

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Dom readers only

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Digger Harkness

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[double-hoe-seven]

Breaktime

Kinktober Day 6: Hair Pulling

Summary: You and Digger take a much needed break during a routine recon mission. Pairing: Digger ‘Captain Boomerang’ Harkness x Reader (ft: former background  Rick Flag x Reader) Word Count: 1,445 Warnings: Smut, swearing, Boomer, pet names (daddy, princess)

| 18+ Only | Minors DO NOT INTERACT |

| 18+ Only | Minors DO NOT INTERACT | Smut below the cut |

"See anything?" You ask into your earpiece as you look around the bar. "Nothin' on the second floor," Rick answers back. "Or the basement," Harley added happily. "I see a fox on the first floor," Digger said with a snicker. "Keep it in your pants, Harkness, we're here on a mission," Rick warns. "You aren't the boss of me, Flag," Digger scoffs. "Actually, he is, love." You finally chime in. "Why are you backin' him up over me?" Digger asks. "Because Rick's in charge, we follow his lead." You say casually, continuing to look around for anything useful. You fought the urge to roll your eyes when you heard him mockingly repeat after you. The tell-tell click of channels was heard before Rick said something "so, Harkness, huh?" "Don't give me that tone, Flag." "I'm not giving you any tone, I'm just curious." He defends. "He's a little rough around the edges but-" "A little?" Rick interrupts with a scoffing laugh. "Yes, a little, but he can be soft when he wants to be." You defend. "Whatever you say," Rick mutters. "Don't be mad that I'm getting laid and you aren't." You tease. "I'm going back to the main channel." He says with a slight laugh. "Whatever floats your boat." You hum before hearing another click.

Fifteen minutes later, you were kneeling behind a desk, looking through the drawers for anything useful. You were so focused on sifting through the different papers that you didn't hear footsteps approaching. When you felt something cold and metallic on the back of your head, you froze, only until the familiar smell of citrus and cedar permeated your senses. You turned and immediately smacked the boomerang out of his hands. "Real mature, George." You grumble as you stand up, facing the laughing Australian. "C'mon, loosen up, babe," he said when he finally settles down, tucking the weapon back into his belt. "God, you're such an idiot." You groan, making no effort to stop him as he cages you between himself and the desk. "Aw, you'll hurt my feelings, babe," he says with a faux pout. "Since when do you have those?" You tease with a smirk. "Oh, feisty ." He grins, leaning down to kiss you. "You're a pain." You mutter, hopping up to take a seat on the desk. He stood between your legs, tangling his fingers in your hair as he pecked your lips. "This mission's boring, love. Let's make it a little more fun." "We're here doing recon. It's not supposed to be fun." You hum. "But we could make it fun." He proposes, taking out his earpiece and yours, and tossing them across the room. "What if there's trouble?" You ask curiously as your hands go to mess with his belt. "They can handle being without us for a bit." He promises.

"Admit you need this as bad as I do, love." He orders, giving your hair a slight tug and smirking at the whimper you let out. "Or what?" You ask with a smirk. This time when he tugs your hair, he does it with more force, attacking your exposed neck with kisses and bites while lightly grinding his hips against yours. "Admit you need it." He challenges. He keeps a tight grip on your hair while the other hand slips below the waistband of your pants, teasing you over your panties. "Make me." You challenge back with a smirk. Digger gives another sharper tug and smirks at your pathetic moan. He gently bites at the base of your neck, his fingers teasing you for a moment longer before he hastily pulls his hand away; he chuckles at the whine that leaves you. "See? You fuckin' need this, babe." He teases as he backs up. Digger helps you off the desk and turns you around. He hastily pushes his pants down around his ankles while you do the same and bend over.

He leaned over you as he positions himself at your entrance, slowly pushing his hips forward. "Keep an eye on the door, love." He mutters, his hand again going to tangle into your hair, using the grip to pull you upright. Digger reaches around you and lets his hand slide under your shirt to fondle your breast while he rocks into you. He uses his grip on your hair to hold you upright and keep your back flush against his chest. He bites and sucks along your neck, leaving a series of bite marks on the skin as his hips move faster. A shaky groan leaves him as he settles into a rhythm of teasing your nipples and speeding up before slowing down when he feels you getting too close. Each time you let out a frustrated sound, he chuckles and tugs your hair again. "You just have to admit you needed this too, love." He teases.

"Bite me." You mutter. "That can be fucking arranged." He smirks, using your hair to tug your head to the side and biting at your neck just hard enough to leave a nice, obvious mark without breaking the skin. "Poor little thing enjoys having her hair pulled. I bet you were fun on the playground." He teases, pinching your nipple harshly before you can reply sarcastically. The relief of his hand leaving your breast was short-lived when it found a home between your legs. "You know what to do if you wanna cum, babe." He teases, bucking his hips faster. His hand settled over your mound, his index and middle finger going to tease the nub, "c'mon, love, just admit it." He coos. When you object again, he tugs harder, pulling your head back against him. "Good girls don't lie to daddy, do they, princess?" "Fu-uck me..." You mewl pathetically, grabbing his wrist in a vain attempt to pry his fingers away from your sensitive clit. "I-I needed this!" You finally concede, desperately trying to gain that tiniest bit of extra friction. "Needed what?" He asks, tugging your hair until you're standing upright with him pistoning into you from behind. "Say it, love." "Fuck!" You exclaim out of a mixture of frustration, annoyance, and pleasure as the tip of his cock hits that perfect little place deep inside of you in this position. "I n-needed you to fuck me!" You huff "now let me fucking cu-ow!" You hiss when he slaps your clit. He tsks and shakes his head. "Ask nicely, love."

If looks could kill, this man would've been dead long ago. "C'mon, big girl words." He teases with that cocky grin of his. "Please let me cum, Digger..." you plead desperately, trying to push back against him. He hums in thought without stalling his movements in the slightest. "Digger..." You warn lowly, a faint whimper in your tone. He savors the moment with a grin before relenting "alright, love, go ahead, cum for daddy." It took no time at all after his words before the wave of your orgasm washed over your entire body. A shiver ran up your spine and his name left your lips as bliss overtook you. He squeezed your hip tightly as he came moments later, burying his face in the crook of your neck and biting into your shoulder to muffle his groan of pleasure. His hips gave a few more languid thrusts as he rode out his high. Carefully, he slipped out of you, letting go of your hair. He happily took a seat in the office chair, catching his breath with a wolfish grin on his face. "I don't wanna hear it." You mumble with an eye roll, turning away to avoid him seeing you grin as you got dressed again.

"I wasn't gonna say anything." He said innocently, raising his hands in surrender before finally getting up to fix his own clothes. "Liar. You were gonna make some stupid joke about me and Rick." You tell him, grabbing your earpieces off the floor and putting yours in, handing him his own. "Fine, I was, but then I thought, it's not his cum leaking out of ya, is it now?" He smirks proudly. "Glad you can be mature about the fact that I'm friends with my ex." You say sarcastically. "Well, I've got nothing to be jealous of, do I?" He asks, once again tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you into another kiss. You took the opportunity to lightly tug his bottom lip when you pulled away. "Let's just get to the meet point." "Happily, lead the way. And I’ll keep an eye on the rear." He grins, gesturing for you to go first. "Perv." You joke. "I'm sorry, brat who enjoys having her hair pulled says what?" He asks with a hum.

Tag Team: @bdffkierenwalker​

[lunaticsandidiots]

boomer + dating…

(gn!reader) (nsfw 18+)

a/n: THIS NEXT ONES DEDICATED TO MY BBY SAM sam i lov u, sorry these took a hot minute but after all the escapades in the server over the last few days my boomer brain is switched back on and ready to rumble

boomer would have a million and one pet names for you, somehow always pulling new ones out of his ass,

“love”

“darlin”

“bub”

“chook”

“possum”

“sausage”

“ya bloody bin chicken”

you’d often wake up and come downstairs to find him splayed out on the couch in nothing but his boxers and gold chain (usually smoking cones).

“mornin’ darlin’.”

boomer would be naked all the fucking time, always parading around in his birthday suit, windows be damned.

he also wouldn’t be able to cook for shit, but he does look like a whole ass meal in a floral apron and nothing else.

(‘boomer cooks night’ = ‘takeaway night’).

(you guys would eat a lot of takeaway).

boomer would always have his hands on you in some capacity,

his arm draped over your shoulders as you watch tv,

his arms wrapped around your waist as you’re doing the dishes (whilst he’s meant to be drying them),

a golden-ring-littered hand on your thigh as you drove the car.

boomer would constantly be throwing you over his shoulder as a form of affection, whether you were calling it a night and heading home from the bar or going upstairs to bed.

boomer would always be taking you to gigs, and he’d always sit you on his shoulders in the mosh - both so you’d stay safe, and to make sure you always had the best view in the room.

coexisting with boomer would mean there would be music playing all the time (like, 24/7) - at home, in the car, you can hear him blasting AC/DC while he showers.

and especially when you’re fucking.

all your sex playlists would just be the raunchiest, horniest punk songs he knew *ahem*.

boomer would always be down for quickies (it wouldn’t matter to him if you were home alone or in the middle of a busy restaurant, if you were game, so was he).

date nights with boomer would usually be pretty casual, something along the lines of a pub feed and then getting smashed together and causing havoc until the early hours of the next day.

and he’d definitely drag you to parmy & trivia night every thursday at the local pub.

i think boomer would splash out on date night from time to time, finding the most expensive steak dinner he possibly can and taking you there, trying his hardest to dress up his scruffy beard and gold capped tooth behind a floral button up and his biggest, shiniest chain.

and man oh man would he be obsessed with showing you off, always finding a way to work the topic of you into every conversation.

[geekfanficwriter]

Call Me Captain [REWRITE]- Captain Boomerang x Reader *18+*

Summary: You’re married to Captain Boomerang, so when you find out he’s been released from prison as a member of the Suicide Squad, you go and find him. Words: 2139 Warnings: Smut, Oral (male receiving), Mild Bondage

Your husband was out from prison. You had connections that had told you he had been forced to join some task force and they had taken him out of prison to go to Midtown City and defeat some evil thing. You had made it to Midtown City the second you heard what had happened and now you were waiting for the perfect opportunity to free your husband. You had to be careful you knew that much. You had seen one of the other guy’s head had been blown off by some bomb they’d injected in their neck so you knew that if you weren’t careful, that would be the fate of Boomer as well. Your sweet Boomer. He wasn’t a good man, but he was good to you. He loved you deeply, and he treated you with respect. You worried at first that it was just a show that he was using you but over time you had become convince he truly loved you. He had shown you a million times, now you had to save him.

You sat behind a bin watching the fight go on when suddenly something flew in front of you. It was Pinky, the stuffed unicorn that Digger always kept around. You laughed and picked it up. After the fight was over he came into the alley looking around.

‘Looking for this?’ You said standing up and handing him Pinky.

‘Babe!’ He hugged you close and kissed you, laughing. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I’m here to get you out of here.’ You mumbled back.

‘As much as I love that, I’ve got a bomb in my neck. Can’t go anywhere without fucking dying.’

‘I know that, I was planning on cutting in out.’ You held up your knife.

‘No, you’re bloody not!’ He backed away.

‘Relax, I’ve got a needle and thread. I’ll sew you back up afterwards. And remember I have the training.’ You thought back to when you first met Digger.

 You were walking through the hospital on your placement. You were currently a medical student; you were in the last years of your general training, and then you’d be able to start your surgical training. You had always wanted to be a surgeon. As you were walking through the hospital, you slipped into an empty room; you had nothing to do right now and you’d be working for 12 hours straight, you just needed a five-minute break. As you went to turn on the light switch, you felt a hand cover your mouth.

‘Don’t scream.’ A male voice whispered in your ear. Don’t scream? Was he insane? Of course, you would scream! He slowly removed his hand from your mouth but quickly but it back when you went to scream. ‘What the fuck did I just say? Scream again and I’ll kill you before any help can get here.’ You believed he would so when he removed his hand again, you kept quiet. You turned around to face him and saw a tall man with scraggly hair. He was wearing a dirty grey coat that was covered in blood.

‘You’re a doctor, right? Well, I need fixing up.’

‘I’m only a student. I can get an actual doctor.’ You responded.

‘No, no one can know I’m here.’ Who was this guy? What did he do? ‘You gonna help me or not?’ He held up a boomerang. Oh god, you knew who it was. It was Captain Boomerang, a notorious thief and murderer. You nodded in response, too scared to say anything.

‘Great.’ He took off his jacket and hoodie and pulled off his shirt to reveal a massive gash in his side. You walked over to the cupboards in the room and grabbed a needle and thread and some antiseptic gel and gauze. You went to sew him up, but your hands were shaking so bad that the needle kept slipping.

‘Is there a problem?’ He asked.

‘No.’ You responded. You took a deep breath and tried not to think about the fact that you had basically been kidnapped by a criminal or the million HIPAA violations you were committing right now. You managed to get the thread through the needle and starting to stitch him up.

Once you were done, you covered the wound with gauze and stuck in down with medical tape. You then went over to a cupboard and grabbed some extra gauze and some antibiotics.

‘You need to take these three times a day until the pack is finished and change the gauze at least once a day. Just take regular painkillers for the pain.’

‘Thanks, Doc. I’m going to need your number. In case, this happens again.’ He said standing up and pulling his shirt back on.

‘What?’ You were not giving a psychopath your number!

‘You heard me, number.’ He handed you a burner phone. You could give him a fake number but if he tested it and your phone didn’t ring, he would definitely kill you, so you entered your number and handed the phone back to him.

‘Thanks, darling.’ He said walking out the room. You leaned against the wall and sighed. You really hoped you never saw him again.

 You laughed at that memory. You’d been so scared of him at first, but the more you got to know him, the more you fell from him. He definitely isn’t as scary as he came across, he was actually a big softie.

‘Who the hell are you?’ You heard a voice say, you looked up and saw a soldier stood there. You knew his name was Rick Flag, and he was the leader of this whole group. You lunged at the soldier with your knife drawn, but Digger pulled you back before you could do anything.

‘This is my wife.’ Digger told him.

‘Your wife?’ He responded shocked. ‘I didn’t know you were married.’

‘Yep, been married for 3 years.’ He held up his hand to show the ring on his finger.

‘Great, what the hell is she doing here?’

‘I wanted to see my husband considering they’ve denied me visitation this whole time.’

‘Well, you’ve got to get out of here. You’re a liability.’

‘I’m not a liability. In fact, I’ll join your stupid team.’

‘You’re going to willingly join this team?’ He raised his eyebrow.

‘If it means that I get to be with my husband, then yes.’

‘Fine, but if you do anything, his head gets blown the fuck off.’ You nodded in understanding.

 ‘Digger! Watch out!’ You yelled as one of the creatures stabbed him. You watched him fall to grow and immediately ran over to him. He couldn’t be dead there was no way he was dead. As you knelt next to him, he sat up and pulled the knife out his chest with a big wad of cash on the end. You sighed knowing the cash had stopped the knife from going all the way through. You wrapped your arms around him.

‘God, I thought you were dead.’ You spoke.

‘Can’t get rid of me that easy.’ He told you as he wrapped his arms around you.

‘I can’t lose you, not again.’ Him being in prison was so hard, you missed him every day and now you’d got him back you wouldn’t let him go that easily.

‘You won’t lose me again, don’t worry.’ He grabbed your head in his hands and pulled it towards him, kissing you lightly. You then both stood up and got back to fighting.

 You were all sat in a bar after finding out that Rick had lied to you. Well, not to you but to the others. Digger was drinking a beer while you had a glass of rum. Flag eventually walked in and everyone seemed pretty annoyed to see him there.

‘You’re free to leave if you want to.’ He said smashing the device that controlled the bomb in their necks and Digger immediately ran off. You stood up and followed him.

‘So now that you’re free what do you want to do?’ You asked him when you finally caught up with him.

‘Well, I can think of a few things.’ He said placing his hands on your hips and pulling you close.

‘Yeah, and what would that be?’ You whispered back, wrapping your hands around your neck.

‘I want to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk.’ He leant down and kissed you hard. You pulled him closer and laced your fingers through his hair. You eventually pulled away.

‘Come on, let’s go find a room.’ You took his hand into yours and pulled him through the corridor. You came to a hotel room and easily broke into the room.

Once you were in the room, Digger immediately pushed you on the bed. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs from one of the many pockets on his jacket and smirked at you.

‘Why would you bring those on a mission with you, Captain?’ You knew he loved it when you called him Captain.

‘I was planning on seeing you no matter what.’ He came over to the bed and sat on top of you, straddling your hips. You leant back up and kissed him, god you had missed this so much. He moved his hands from waist and pulled off his coat and jacket, leaving him in a white vest. You moved your hands underneath his vest and ran them up and down his chest and stomach. You pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him, you pulled his shirt over his head and leant down to kiss his neck. You kissed your way down his chest and stomach, as you reached his trousers, you undid his belt and trousers and pulled them down along with his boxers. You grabbed his cock in your hand and moved your hand up and down, feeling him grow in your hand, you then moved your head towards his cock and took him into your mouth. You heard him groan as you took him deeper, eventually deep throating him, you moved your head up and down licking him as you moved your head.

‘Fuck, baby.’ He groaned lacing his hands into your hair and pulling at it, making you groan. Just as he was about to come, he pulled you back up and laid you flat on the bed. He pulled off your shirt and undid your bra, pulling that off, he then took the handcuffs and placed him around your wrists, strapping you to one of the poles on the headboard. He leant down to kiss you and then moved his hands down to the waistband of your shorts. He undid the button on them and pulled them down. He rubbed you through your underwear and you moaned into his mouth.

‘God babe stop teasing.’ You moaned at him.

‘Tell me what you want, baby.’ He whispered in your ear.

‘I want you to fuck me, fuck me hard.’ He obliged and pulled down your underwear. He spread your legs on either side of him and you automatically wrapped your legs around his waist. He positioned himself and then pushed into you, making you both groan. He moved in and out of you, slowly at first as you got used to him, then he sped up making you moan more.

‘Fuck, I’ve missed you so much.’ He groaned as he pounded into you. He moved his hand down to your clit and started rubbing it making you moan even more. He continued to fuck you while rubbing your clit as you felt your orgasm coming on.

‘Babe, I’m going to come.’ You moaned at him. He pounded into even faster and you felt yourself about to come. You moaned with every thrust, trying to keep your voice down but not being able to contain yourself. You pulled against your restraints and grabbed at the headboard with your hands, needing something to grab onto. Then, you felt yourself come, you let about a moan as Digger continued pounding into you riding out your orgasm. He let out on final groan before coming and then pulling out of you. He slumped down on top of you as you both breathed deeply.

A few moments, later he stood up and went to go grab the key to the handcuffs, he undid them and you pulled your wrists out; he places two gentle kisses on the marks on your wrists before laying down next to you and pulling you close to him; you wrapped your arms around his chest and snuggled into him smiling.

‘We should probably get going soon.’ He spoke. You mumbled in response; you would get up soon but right now you just wanted to stay here with him for a moment.

[creepling]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ dating digger harkness headcanons

this is a very specific reader because i love the idea of this grimy hobo having a cute, smart girly partner that is the candy floss to his raccoon energy OKAYYY. also tcm shenanigans will be back shortly, i just had to give some love to a dc rogue like the old times<33

tags: feminine reader (wears dress, skirt, heels, mild makeup and has breasts and v) but gn pronouns. sugar daddy digger if you squint. reader is a jailbird. cuddling. pet name: birdie. smut under the cut - minors dni. polaroid nudes. (m) masturbation. thoughts of: oral (m receiving) and cowgirl.

If you were to ask Digger the first thing he noticed about you, his caveman mind would be objectifying. But your ass did look very flattering in your skirt and the smile you shot his way was the cherry on top. He likes them sweet and innocent, you like them rugged and dangerous. It was a match made in hell heaven.

After a few dates spent in dingy pubs and lover’s lanes, he was enamoured by you. He’s never had someone look at him the way you do. Eyes full of light, glistening at the sight of him. You always welcomed him with open arms, practically throwing yourself at him. He liked how easy you were to pick up, and the way you wrapped your limbs around him. How your soft skin blushes red against his scruffy neck. No matter the setting, you sat so close to him that you were more or less on his lap. He wraps his arms around you, or has a hand on your thigh, letting nearby acquaintances know you belong together. Digger thinks to himself, “I got so fucking lucky.”

His love languages are primarily gift-giving and physical touch. More times than you can count, Digger has fallen asleep on top of you. Either on the couch, while watching a movie or he found a way to snake between your legs while sleeping, he has a habit of using you like a pillow. You developed a kinship in moments like this where you play with his hair, massaging your fingers into the nape of his neck or twirling the strands that curtain his temples. You muse at his sleep-full hums, watching this rogue unwind under your touch, satisfied like a dog receiving pets. The gift-giving is when his rogue side is on high voltage. He wants to give you the world, shower you with jewels, let you wear the best of gear. “You want diamonds? Yeah, I’ll get you diamonds,” He’ll muse, mixing his pleasures with yours. When he robs a bank, the majority of his stolen dollars has been spent on you since you met him. Did your car get towed? He bought you a new one, along with the insurance. Need a new dress for the weekend? He’s got you sorted, along with heels and a bag to match. “Can’t have my bird in peasant clothes!” He protests, “Not with that cracken’ bod.” Queue the wink.

He loves showing you off, chuffed that he proved his doubters wrong that he could settle down and have a gorgeous significant other. “What they see in you, I don’t know . . .” They say, whether that be Deadshot, King Shark, heck even Amanda is amazed by it. He keeps candid polaroids of you in his pocket on the job, looking at them when he misses you. He squeezes the unicorn plushie you gifted him when he is stressed, anything to feel your presence when you’re half the world away. A shit-eating grin on his face when people tease him about his love for you, using it to embarrass him. “Awh, it’s puppy love,” Harley cooes, and Digger nods, all chuffed with himself.

Digger gave you the nickname “Birdie” because well . . . You’re a jailbird. He is in prison for heinous crimes, after all! Oh, is he touched-starved when you’re standing there, pretty face to the phone, separated by glass and talking in your voice that melts him like butter. His eyes are eating you up, desperate to have his hands on you. He’ll do all the suicide missions going to shred off the jail time, to get closer to the day his lips are kissing yours. Blackmailing Amanda to get you the best of the best, pay off college debt, holidays abroad, and spoil you when he cannot. “Oh, Birdie, when I get out of here I’m not letting you out of my sight, you’re stuck with me.” He groans, drunk on love. All you do is smile, sliding a pack of Polaroids under the screen when the guards aren’t looking. “Have these to tide you over in the meantime,” you tease. Digger rushes back to his cell, flipping through the photos. First were of you in dresses that were his favourites, the type of ones that are flowy and floral, framing you so delicately. They get more desirable as he flips them over, and his eyes lull in lust.

Digger loves the dirty photos you send him, it drives him fucking insane. It’s good to keep you fresh in his mind, but it borders on teasing just having you to look at. He didn’t have the brightest imagination, but this was good practice. Imagine how soft your thighs are under his callous hands, what your lips taste like with the lipgloss you have on. Your delicate hands trace his bulge, your touch replacing his heavy-handed grasp. Bucking into your hands as he sucks your breasts, teasing your nipples, muttering how perfect you are. His sweet little birdie, all belonging to him. Your eagerness proves your devotion. You take his infamous size so well, your spit coating his cock as your tongue swirls around his pulsing tip. As he wanks himself off, muffling his groans, he has the faintest memory of your cunt. How wet you always were for him, how eager you bounced on his cock. His eyes closed as he pumped his cock faster, edging to the echoes of past moans you chanted in his ear.

[gilverrwrites]

Conjugal Visit

Captain Boomerang/F!Reader, 2.2K words

AN: I can't remember what inspired this, but it's just a cute, fluffy, smutty thing I've been working on between request and uni work.

Plot: Digger is rewarded for saving the entire world with a 1 hour conjugal visit. It's not much, but it will do. Rating: 18+

CWs: None really, its just fluffy smut! Very mild angst, swearing, unprotected sex, p in v sex, cunnilingus, woman on top.

Please remember: You are a super star!

He’s been sending you origami unicorns and gibberish-filled letters about his good behaviour for months, but the promised conjugal visit never came, at least not until after he’d saved Metropolis, and, well, the whole world, maybe even the universe from an alien invasion. 

When his figure popped up on the news, you’d know it was him straight away, even despite his zipping around like a bonafide speedster. 

Later, when Lois Lane showed clearer footage, had confirmed it was him your heart had thrum with pride. You’d told anyone who would listen “That’s my man! That’s my Digger, out saving the world!” You’d even texted articles to your family, to prove he wasn’t the layabout felon they’d always complained about. They didn’t need to know that he was part of some kind of suicide mission, only out there because the government considered his criminal(-ly cute) ass expendable. No, as far as you were concerned, he was a hero, who would save the world, and come home to your loving arms when he was done. At least that’s what you told yourself to help you sleep at night. 

The positivity paid off though. When Digger and his teammates had saved the freakin’ world, his leader, Waller had graciously offered him a few years of his impossibly long sentence and a whopping 3 hours with you. It was considerably less than standard but you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Digger, however, was. His complaining had reduced his reward time to just one hour, and you were determined to make the most of it. 

As you approach the door, you eyed the various trays shelved next to it. Each one filled with different sizes and brands of condoms, all of which were too small for Digger, and you weren’t allowed to bring your own. Every finger and toe was crossed that the morning-after pill you’d pre-purchased would be enough. 

A straight-faced guard opens the door for you, you thank him as you step inside, disappointed to be the first one here. An ancient off-white plastic analogue clock on the wall loudly counts down each missed second as you wait for him, brushing your hair out with your fingers, sucking your teeth to make sure there are no remnants of breakfast stuck between them. When the door finally opens once more you have your skirt hiked up to your waist as you fiddle with your underwear. It wasn’t the comfiest, but it was Digger's favourite. 

Your efforts don’t go unnoticed, your jailbird boyfriend’s eyes are bulging as he takes in your form for the first time in too long. Your heart races as you do the same to him, suddenly feeling both coy and unstable as you examine the way his uniform hangs from his lean body. God you can’t wait to get those off him. 

From the excited look on his face, he was having similar thoughts about your outfit. You release the hem of your skirt, but before the fabric can even flutter back against your skin, Digger has you in his arms, using all his muscle to lift you up high by your thighs, head nuzzled against your stomach as he spins you around. 

“I’ve missed ya so much, you’ve got no idea. I can’t believe you’re really here. The real you, not just your pictures stuck above me bed.” He blurts all the things he’s wanted to say but couldn’t convey until now. “I stare at you every night, been dreamin’ bout this moment.” 

“I missed you too baby. Now kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!” You jiggle your weight until he begins to lower you. 

“Don’t have to tell me.” He chuckles, situating you at hip height, putting your faces in closer proximity, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, as you lock lips with him. He tastes like mouthwash, which was not unwelcome, but strange. Certainly different to the stale beer you were accustomed to. Regardless, Digger didn’t miss a beat, slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you with so much enthusiasm it made you miss him again already. 

The way he smiles into your kiss nearly makes you pull away to giggle. The way his calloused fingers tickle your skin as he snakes a hand up to cup your ass does make you throw your head back and laugh out loud. 

“That tickles! Stop!” 

“Nah, I’ve missed this sound too much.” He doesn’t stop, now deliberately tickling both your hips as you begin weakly hitting his shoulder. “You know what else I’ve missed the sound of?” 

You squeal as he releases you all at once, throwing your body onto the bed.

“That!”

You sit up on the bed, arms crossed as you wait for him to stop laughing at you. The bed itself is old, the springs of the mattress creak under every move, and the comforter is itchy as hell, but it will have to do. 

“I should be mad at you for that, but I’ll forgive you this once 'cause I missed you so much.” Leaning back, you spread your legs, revealing your underwear and offering him a come-hither look. 

He looks like a fox in a henhouse, pointy grin, big eyes, and it makes your pussy tingle with excitement. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Love, but I sure as shit am lucky.” His shirt and trousers are gone before he lands above you. Long fingers lock onto you, clumsily helping you undress until all that’s left is Diggers crew socks. He never takes them off for sex, ‘extra grip for when I’m givin’ it to ya real hard’, so you don’t bother trying to get them off him. 

“Digger, you’re a hero!” You argue between sloppy kisses. “Even if you weren’t, you still deserve good things.” 

“Yeah…” For a moment he looks at you, really looks at you, without the lust or the laughter. It might have felt scrutinising if you thought for a second that he knew what that word meant. “But you loved me before, an’ I really didn't deserve you then.” 

Before you can respond he’s slinking down your body, fingers pushing against your entrance and making you squirm. 

“You’re so wet already, you miss being all filled up by your old man aye? Bet you’ve been feeling so empty. I’m sorry I got me-self locked up. Sorry I left you so high and dry.” He slips one finger in, cupping your pussy, pressing down on your clit with his thumb. He hadn’t always known your body so well, but you’d spent so many nights wrapped up in each other that it was second nature now. 

“Don’t…” you try to speak between deep breaths. “Don’t be sorry, make it up to me.” 

No need to ask twice, in seconds he sucking on your clit and slipping a second finger inside. His crooked nose nestled against your pelvis area, mutton shops scratchy between your thigh as he begins to lap at your core. When he skims your sweet spot at just the right angle you whimper, tugging at his russet hair, which in turn causes him to let out a deep moan that reverberates against you. 

You whine and squirm against the wobbly bed as he continues, the fire in your belly building as duel licking and fucking pushes you closer to the edge. He hits that hot spot inside, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his head. With your orgasm in sight, Digger picks up his pace, slipping in a third finger as he concentrates his efforts on your clit. 

Reflexively, your back arches and your toes curl as your orgasm hits. Your hips roll, searching for more friction and Digger uses his free hand to press on your stomach, holding you in place until you come back down. 

“Ah, crikey. You taste just as sweet as I remember.” He comments as he comes back up, face gleaming with a mix of cum and saliva. “I missed that.” 

Before you can respond he places a wet kiss on your belly button. “An’ I missed this.”

Your sternum. “An’ this.”

“An’ definitely these.” He cups both of your breasts as he lowers himself and begins to rub his face between your cleavage. Green eyes peer up at you full of cheek when you grip his hair and tilt his head to look at you. “What?”

“We're on a time constraint, you wanna spend it all in there?” He purses his lips playfully, looking back and forth between you and your boobs as he pretends to consider the question. 

“I could die happy here.” To emphasise his point, he burrows between them once more before conceding. His cock bobs from side to side as he sits back, shimming his hips. “But we wouldn’t want Digger Jr to miss out on all the fun.” 

“Agreed! Let’s put him to use.” His hips feel pointed in your grip as you grab them, dragging him between your spread legs again. He runs the tip between your lips, teasing your clit and coating himself in your slick. When you feel his head at your entrance, your muscles tighten, trying to draw him in further.

This is the part you’d been craving and dreading. Even when you’d been sleeping together routinely, ‘Jr’ was too big to slide in with ease. The burn of your walls struggling to stretch around him makes your breathing uneven, the lubrication of your earlier climax doing little to ease the process. 

“Hey, hey, relax now, breathe.” Digger coos, leaning in close and cupping your cheek, reminding you that keeping calm is the best way to get through it. You nod, even though your body is in overdrive, you will yourself to relax, steadying your breathing and he gradually works his way into you. “That’s it, Darl’, let me into that tight little snatch.”

“Ew, Digger!” You groan and laugh at his atrocious word choice, but it works. It distracted you enough for him to bottom out. Smugly, he wiggles his bows and his cock at the same time, the motion making you pant and squirm, needing real friction. 

“On your back Harkness.” You order.

“Yes ma'am.” Hands gripping your hips he does the heavy lifting, flipping your bodies until he lays flat on his back, and you hover above him.

Comfortable, you waste no time bouncing on his lap, gripping his shoulders for support as you roll your hips up and down. “Fuck, Digger, that feels so good.”

“Oh yeah.” He agrees between gritted teeth, his hands reaching up to cup your tits, his hips jerking up to meet your thrusts. “This is so much better than jerking off to your photies every night. Nothin’ beats the real thing.” 

The more you rock together, the more he crumbles, face scrunching, hands abruptly grabbing at whatever skin he can reach, no longer just occupied with your breasts. 

“Shit Digger, your dick is the best.” You praise and you can tell from his pink cheeks and rapid movements that he’s on the brink. 

“Fuck. Touch yourself, touch yourself, touch yourself.” He begs, wanting you to cum but too lost to do it himself. You dip your finger between your legs, circling your clit with firm, circular motions, causing tension to quickly coil in your gut, but it's not enough. “Fuck, woman, hurry up and cum.”

“Impatient.” You scold, purposely pumping your body in fast, deep motions to aid Digger's climax.

“Can’t help it.” He whispers quickly, desperately. “You feel too good.” 

He’s a beautiful withering mess beneath you, gleaming under a layer of sweat. All sharp edges and soft freckled skin. Eager to put him out of his misery you press harder at your clit, rubbing as fast as you can muster until you can’t help throwing your head back, panting as you approach your peak, and Digger is right there with you, gripping you with bruising force as he finally lets himself release. Pleasure seeps through your body as you ride out your orgasms together, Digger grunting with every spurt of cum he releases inside of you. 

“Wow.” You pant, as you relax, collapsing onto his Digger's chest. “I missed that.” 

When he’s recovered enough, Digger wraps his arms around you in return, pulling you closer for a deeper hug. “We’ve still got it.”

“Still got it.” You concede. Sex with Digger is always good, but the come down, the cuddling and the pillow talk is comforting. As much as you want to, you can’t fall asleep in his arms, can’t have a thumb war over who has to go get snacks, can’t stay up all night talking about that guy you hate from work, or Digger’s latest heist plans. “I just wish we had more time to talk. I want to hear everything.” 

In sync, both your heads turn. Yours to the clock, Diggers to you. 

“Not much time, is it?” He probes, you know he can only read digital.

“No, just a little under 10 minutes.” Determined not to let your limited time together get you down, and feeling Digger’s cock already growing hard inside you once more, you offer; “Think we can squeeze in another quick?” 

“Don’t need to be quick, don’t care what they do to me.” Digger flips you over, his turn on top. “They’re gonna need one of them giant magnet thingys to pry me off of you, Love.” 

Request Info || Prompts || DC Masterlist || Ko-Fi

[lacontroller1991]

Kink Master (Rick Flag x Fem!Reader)

Requested by @myownworldsstuff​: Hello may i ask a rick flag x reader where the reader has the same skill set as black widow and he loves when she chokes people with her thighs? 👉👈 sorry to bother you.

@h-hxgirl​ @artemis-cr0ck​ @himbovillain-anon​

Warnings: Langauge, Choking kink, smut, unprotected sex, thigh kink, sub/dom (Rick being sub), Face sitting, oral sex (Female receiving), hand jobs, titty fuck, body cum shots, cock ring, (Ma’am) kink, I think that’s all

Sparring had to be your absolute favorite pastime at the prison. Not only did it allow you to prove to misogynistic men that you were, in fact, a total badass, but it also allowed you to throw around a couple of the inmates to make sure they know who is boss. Knocking Digger to the ground, you laughed as you held out your hand for him to take, but he just got up by himself and grumbled that you took him down and that it was unfair. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rick sparring with Floyd, helping with some hand to hand combat before your vision was obscured by a white face with pigtails.

“Hiya sweetums,” her voice rang in your ears as you gave her a smile.

“Hey Harley, do you need something?”

“Yeah, I was wondering if you could show me how to do your little leg twisty thing,” she grinned with mischief as you raised an eyebrow at her.

“Harls, you already know how to do that. You don’t need me to show you,” you replied as she continued to grin at you before placing an arm around your shoulders.

“Come on, please,” she begged as you let out a sigh in exasperation before nodding, causing her to shriek with happiness.

“Alright, just calm down,” you chuckled as she slyly gave Floyd a thumbs up who then shot up an “ok” sign, turning his attention to Flag who didn’t notice the little exchange.

“You know what’s fine as hell?”

“What,” came Rick’s gruff reply as he watched you pull Digger back over.

“When (Y/N) does that thigh thing, you know, when she wraps her thighs around the poor fool's neck and suffocates them.”

“Oh I know,” he mumbled, admitting it to Floyd who just smiled.

“Alright Harkness, just stand here. Harley make sure you’re watching since this is what you want,” you commanded as she rapidly nodded her head and when your back was turned, she looked over her shoulder to see that you had Floyd and Flag’s attention.

“Ok, so you’re going to charge at the person, place your left arm on their left arm before grabbing their right shoulder and you’re going to bring your legs up and wrap them around the person’s neck. Then, you just follow through with your weight,” you instructed as you did the moves slowly to emphasize each point before you got off Harkness’s shoulders and ran at him with full speed. Locking your legs around his neck, you threw your body around, sending him flying to the floor as you constricted your legs until he tapped out.

“Fuck woman, trynna kill me?” He asked as he tried to regain his breathing while you didn’t break a sweat.

“Nah, well maybe,” Harley laughed with you as you turned your gaze to Flag and Floyd who were standing there watching. Suddenly, an idea popped in Harley’s head.

“Hey Flag! Wanna swap partners? She needs someone compatible with her,” Harley explained as you shot her a look before grabbing her harshly and whispering in her ear.

“Fuck you think you’re doing Quinn?”

“I’m doing you a favor, hun,” she whispered back as your head sunk to her shoulder. Despite being an insane criminal, she had actually become one of your closest friends in the prison, knowing all too well about your little crush on your co-commander.

“What (Y/L/N), you afraid to fight me?” Flag questioned as your head shot up and smiled sweetly at him.

“Please, we both know you’d go down, Colonel,” you flirted back, and this was how it always was. Meaningless flirty comments from him and meaningful flirty comments from you.

“Try me, sweetheart,” he teased, knowing you hated it when he called you that, though you secretly loved it.

“You’re on,” both of you were trained in Martial Arts and respected that from one another. After the two of you bowed to each other, you got into a fighting stance as he threw a punch at you. Easily blocking it, you continued to block each blow that he tried to deliver.

“You know, for a special ops guy, you suck at this,” you yawned as he growled, tackling you to the ground, ignoring the whoops of the inmates around the two of you. He easily dominated you with pure strength but you had agility. Squirming slightly, you threw up one of your legs and struck him in the back, causing him to loosen his grip on you which allowed for more movement. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you put all your body strength into flipping him over, pinning him to the ground.

“Give up yet?” You smirked, hands wrapped around his wrists and legs around his waist. His cock twitched at the position.

“Fuck no,” he replied, breaking out of your grasp and pushing you backwards so you were on your back, legs still around his waist. His arms caged around your face, his breath on your lips, and he realized this. Slightly letting up on his weight, you smirked at him before bringing your legs up from around his waist to around his throat. Twisting over, you ended up on top with his throat between your thighs. His hands went up to try to break the grip of your thighs, but you only tightened it more, not noticing the way Floyd and Harley giggled to each other and pointed to you and Rick. More so Rick than you, and behind you where his legs were flailing around. He brought his legs up so that they were propped against your back and that's when you realized what the pair was laughing at. Gasping, you quickly let go of the man’s throat and scrambled to stand up.

“Alright, the demonstration is over,” you stated, looking over to Harley before running out of the courtyard and to your small little bedroom.

“The hell is her issue?” Rick asked, wondering why you all the sudden got up and ran away as Floyd helped him up.

“Your Flag pole,” he stopped suddenly, laughing at the name he came up with, stirring a laugh from Harley as well, “your Flag pole is at half-mast,” Floyd managed to get out before bending over his knees and laughing as Rick’s face went red.

“Oh shit,” he stated, running after you but not before telling the guards to take the task force back to their cells.

----------

Rick made his way through the halls before he found your door. Pausing for a minute, he let out a nervous breath before knocking on the door. Opening it immediately, you looked at Rick with a light flush to your face.

“Lt. (Y/L/N), I would like to offer my sincerest apologies. That was unprofessional and will never happen again,” he stated with his military voice, standing up as straight as a line and avoiding eye contact with you. Smiling softly, you walked toward him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down gently to your height to where his face was just centimeters above yours. Leaning up, you pressed your lips to his in a chaste kiss, waiting for his reaction.

“Shut up Flag,” you whispered as his eyes grew lustful. Crashing his lips down to yours, his strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist as his foot slammed the door shut before leading you to the bed in the back corner. Pushing you down, Rick crawled on top of you, placing kisses all along your neck as your hands moved up to his hair, tugging at the strands that were growing out. You had convinced him to grow out his hair and not keep it military cadet. Rolling your hips against his, earning a throaty moan from him as your heat grazed his hard on. “Fuck baby, you gonna be good for me?” You asked with a new found courage as he gazed up into your eyes.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied as you smirked, undressing yourself in front of him. You quickly stepped out of your pants and top as you topped him. Leaning down, you placed hot, wet kisses along his jaw as they moved down to his collarbone, before pulling away with mischief in your eyes.

“You’re gonna do as I say, or else you won’t get rewarded,” you mentioned with innocence as he nodded his head rapidly, “uh uh, use your words big boy.” “Yes ma’am,” he struggled to get out as his hips thrusted up against yours, trying to get some of the tension removed.

“A little birdie told me that you have a thing for my thighs. Is that true, Colonel?” You asked sweetly as your hand reached behind you and softly traced the outline of his bulge as he slightly whimpered.

“Yes Lt. (Y/L/N).”

“Do you want my legs wrapped around your face as you eat me out? Is that what my baby boy wants?”

“Fuck, (Y/N),” a sharp slapped echoed through the small room as his hand immediately went up to his face, “yes ma’am.”

“Good boy,” you rubbed soothing circles into the red mark on his face as you placed your legs on either side of his face, “I’m going to fuck your face,” you stated as he smiled up to you before wrapping his arms around your thighs and burying his face beneath your heat. Licking a long path between your folds caused you to jolt forward as his tongue buried inside of you. Lapping up your juices, Rick groaned against your mound, vibrations sending through you as your hips bucked up into his face, nose gliding over your clit as you let out a soft moan.

“Fuck Rick, just like that,” you whispered as you grabbed onto his hair, slightly rocking your hips as his mouth kept steady on your cunt. You looked down as his fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs, holding you in place as he began slurping the juices. Moving one hand away, he brought it down lower to your hold before sticking one finger in your warm body as his tongue started its attack on your small bundle of nerves. Moaning, you closed your eyes and threw your head back as the muscles around your lower abdomen began tightening and an urgent need for release grew.

“Rick, I’m close,” you whimpered, gripping his hair tighter as he nodded his head, adding another digit to your core as he rapidly pumped them in and out while his tongue swirled around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Rutting into his face, you let go of his hair as your hands went to your nipples, tweaking and pulling on them as it sent you over the edge.

“Fuck,” Rick continued to pump his fingers in and out of your as his tongue lightly grazed over your nub, helping you come down from your high, “did you like that pretty boy?”

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled up at you as you got off of his face.

“Since you were such a good boy for me, it’s time for your reward,” you smiled wickedly as you reached over into the drawer, pulling out a small rubber ring as he glanced at it curiously.

“What’s that for?” He asked as you pulled down his pants and boxers allowing for his erection to spring free.

“You’ll see,” you replied, lightly grazing over his cock with your hand and collecting the precum on the tip before putting your finger in your mouth, sucking the salty substance off as you looked at Rick with lush in your eyes. Moving your hand back down, you slowly stroked his cock, loving the way he whimpered for your touch. With the other hand, you moved to place the ring around the base of his shaft and tightened it, preventing blood flow as he let out a loud moan that he would probably deny as soon as your activities were over. Looking down, you spit a little on the tip before massaging it into the skin, your grip tight as you continued to move up and down his length.

“You’re being such a good boy. Behaving so well,” you stated nonchalantly as your movements quickened, his hips bucking up into your hand. Noticing the way his abdomen muscles were starting to constrict, you removed your hand from his shaft before leaning back as he growled at you.

“That’s unfair,” he complained as you smiled sweetly at him.

“Life’s unfair Colonel,” you replied, slinking down to where your upper body was above his lower. Grasping your breasts in your hands, you spit in between them allowing for some lubrication before slipping his dick in between. Squishing your boobs more closely, you moved them along his cock as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Watch or you won’t get to cum,” you demanded as his eyes shot to yours before trailing down to where your breasts wrapped around his cocked and bounced up and down. Continuing bouncing your breasts, you removed one of your hands and placed a warm hand on his sac, rolling them in your palm as Rick violently jerked his hips upwards.

“Fuck baby, please don’t stop,” he begged as you smirked, one hand tugging on his sac while the other held your tits in place as they continued to jerk him off. A shiver ran through Rick’s spine as he noticed your eyes locking onto his with such determination and lust and it went right to his cock. Groaning, his hips began stuttering as sweat dripped down his abdomen, highlighting his built body with a sheen glare.

“Cum for me baby, cum on my tits. Making me your dirty little whore,” you whispered and with one final thrust and loud groan, his seed landed on your chest and chin as you continued to jerk him off, coaxing him through his orgasm. Pulling away, you collected some of his cum on your finger before you crawled up to him.

“Suck,” you commanded as he put your finger in his mouth, mind too fucked out to really think about what he was doing, “good job. You were so good for me baby,” you whispered softly as you placed a soft but loving kiss on his lips as his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you flush against him.

“That was fucking hot,” he commented into the hot air filled with the smell of sex.

“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do that for,” you mentioned, looking up at him and memorizing his blissful face and how relaxed he looked.

“What took you so long?”

“I guess I never knew you liked me like that and I didn’t wanna bring it up,” you shrugged as your hand went to loosen the ring around his softening cock, causing him to slightly whimper.

“Well, we should probably thank Harley and Floyd,” he remarked as you heard giggling from the outside.

“Damn right you should,” Floyd shouted as Harley’s laugh echoed through the hall causing you and Rick to quickly sit up and get dressed. Popping your head out of your office, you saw Floyd and Harley being escorted away.

“Fuck you guys!”

“Not us, Flag,” Harley retorted with a final laugh before you went back inside only for a pair of lips to be placed on yours.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard tonight you won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” Rick threatened against your lips as his hands dug into your waist.

“I’m counting on it, Colonel.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HEHEHHEHEHHEHEHEHE prolly one of the longest one shots I've written so please enjoy

[babblydrabbly]

Still My Kind || (Digger Harkness x Reader) Smut

Pairing: Digger Harkness x F!Reader

Characters: Digger Harkness, Harley Quinn, brief TDK. Mentions of Rick Flag, Javelin, Amanda Waller.

Warnings: Language. Canon-typical violence. Kissing. Oral (f receiving). Handjob. Food mention.

Wordcount: 2.5k+

[ A/N: Takes place between SS 2016 and TSS 2021. My first full length Boomer fic! If this is just- wildly out of character I apologize. ]

After serving your time on the squad as a former inmate, Waller offers you a full time position co-wrangling Task Force X. You shoulder the responsibilities well— But you still keep one weakness close to the vest. When a morning of team building wears Boomer down, you figure you owe your favorite criminal a personal apology.

"Again." You snap.

You watch with arms crossed and a scowl as The Detachable Kid circles the padded mat with Boomerang.

There were some privileges to babysitting your ragtag team in between missions. You always pushed for more time with your trusted members, to let them out of their cells instead of having to watch them cooped up on monitors back in Argus's offices. Sparring and training were your go-to excuse. While Colonel Flag was busy with pre-op planning, you liked to make sure the team was at peak performance.

You had been making Harkness and Quinn your prime examples for close combat all morning. While Javelin was a quick learner, TDK was not. The five of you took up a private section of Belle Reve's training area meant just for squad members.

"He doesn't know what he's fuckin' doing." Boomer snaps back, out of breath. You can tell by his frown and heaving chest that his short temper is beginning to flare.

Harley sits on the floor with a water bottle and a towel around her neck, also looking annoyed.

"What d'ya say we give it a rest, [L/n]?" She whines. "It's been three hours."

"You want to go back inside?" You shoot back, arching a brow at her. Harley pouts and folds her arms.

They all knew once the sparring was over that you'd have to call the guards in— and none of them wanted an escort back to their bleak cellblocks.

You didn't want it for them either, but it was your responsibility to make the most of your time together.

"We lost three assets during the last mission. You barely made it out." You lecture, eyeing Harkness pointedly.

He stops pacing the mat and gives you a glare. "That was because of this idiot!" He snaps, jerking a thumb at TDK.

"Exactly. We were sloppy. I want us better."

"Well why the fuck are you making me wrestle with 'em?" Harkness barks. "I'm over it. Fuck this."

"Get back on the mat, Boomer." You order. He huffs as he ignores you, leaning down to snatch the water out of Harley's hand and dumps it over the top of his head.

"I think I'm getting the hang of it." TDK chips in unhelpfully. Boomer levels you with a scowl.

"Back on the mat, Harkness." You say sternly.

You blow the whistle, and their next little tussle lasts roughly fifteen seconds. You can tell immediately that when TDK's elbow comes up and lands right under Boomer's eye, it's the last straw. Before you can step in, he's grappling TDK around the waist and throwing him off the mat with an angry holler.

"I'm fuckin' done!" He barks, and you sigh, gesturing for the guards to come collect your friends.

You're busy with reports and briefings for the rest of the day, the sun outside your office window gone before you power down your computer. You scrub a hand over your face and glance at the clock.

Boomer doesn't bother standing when the door to his cell opens. You slip inside, nodding to the guard before it shuts behind you.

"Gonna make me run some more drills, boss?" He mutters, idly picking at the thin cell mattress beneath him.

You hold up a greasy paper back and large soda— A peace offering. Boomer eyes it for a moment before scoffing.

"That you sayin' sorry?"

You stay where you are, though there isn't much space to put between you.

"I'm not sorry for making sure the squad's more prepared." You counter firmly. A prickle of annoyance makes you roll your eyes, and you're not surprised when Boomer shoots up, stalking over to you.

He crowds your space, daring you square up, or to press yourself against the door. Over his shoulder, you know that the camera up in the corner of the room isn't picking up any of it, because you've already persuaded security to turn it off for awhile.

"All you fuckin' do is work the squad." He snaps in your face. You crane your neck up at him, unmoving as his hot breath grazes your cheeks in angry puffs. "You follow Waller around like you're her fucking dog now. Acting more and more like Colonel Dickhead every day."

"That's my job now, genius."

"Yeah, well I liked you better when you were wearin' orange like the rest of us." He grumbles, finally tearing his eyes away from yours. They flicker down over your work attire and boots, before coming back up to bore into yours again. You watch his brows pinch together as he finishes his little rant, his lips pressing together in a thin line as he waits for you to snap back.

But you sigh instead. You slip around him, and he lets you, eyeing you as you set the food and drink down atop his bed. When you turn around to cup his face in your warm hand, Boomer flinches minutely as your thumb brushes the fresh bruise under his eye.

"You scared me." You murmur gently. You coax him to look at you again. "Last mission was close. Too close. That detachable idiot almost got you killed. And you and Harley are my best assets. I want the whole team stronger next time."

He scoffs again, pulling away. "Assets."

It's your turn to crowd him against the door, his back falling against it with a light thud when you take his face in both your hands this time. You push up on your toes and press your lips to his firmly. Despite his anger, Boomer releases a pleased sound, his large hands immediately reaching for your waist to pull your body flush to his. The two of you kiss deeply for a moment before you pull away.

"You and Harley are my best friends."

"More than friends by now, I reckon." He says with a smirk.

You rolls your eyes again. "Well, I'm your boss now too."

That makes the criminal grin. "Yeah? Gonna punish me for insubordination?"

A smirk flashes across your face before you crash your lips to his again, the kiss heated and urgent this time. Your run your hands down his hard chest, over the thin cotton of his white tank top. A muffled moan leaves your mouth as Boomer's grasp slides over your ass, squeezing and kneading shamelessly as he swallows your sound with a greedy fervor.

"Uh-uh," You chide, pulling away. You reach up and push his shoulders down firmly. You don't have nearly enough strength to budge him, but he eases down pliantly, pupils blown wide as you guide him down to his knees. You unbutton your jeans for him. Licking his lips, Boomer undoes the zipper, yanking your black jeans and panties down with a grin.

"Fuck, Y/n." He breathes out, throwing your clothes against the wall. You don't have time to tease him before he's burying his face between your thighs, his eyes falling shut as his parted mouth meets your cunt.

You inhale sharply, a hand flying up to tangle in his blond curls. Digger's tongue darts out, prodding past your wet folds to dip into your entrance. You moan as he trails up your slit, the tip circling around to taste your clit with fast, eager strokes.

"Oh," You utter, your hips bucking faintly. "Boomer— George."

The grip on your hips squeezes at the sound of his real name. You feel his hot breath on you as he hikes one of your legs up over his broad shoulder, fingers digging into your flesh when he opens his eyes to look up at you. He watches you as he purses his lips, sucking your clit into his warm, wet mouth.

"Oh, fuck." You whimper. You brace a hand up against the cell door, curling over his head as he continues to suck and lap at your pussy.

Your gasps and stifled moans go straight to Boomer's cock, bulge aching as he pushes his face deeper into you. But when you feel his right hand leave your hip, feel it slip down your soft thigh and around the back of your knee, you give his head a sharp tug. Boomer groans against your folds.

"Don't you dare. You're gonna fucking listen to me now, Harkness."

Another groan. He could never get anything past you. Boomer's hand releases his cock through his jumpsuit, grip returning to your hip obediently. The skin on his arms prickle as you level him with a hungry look, taking your lip between your teeth.

"That's it. Fuck— So good. You feel so good." You shutter, combing your fingers through his hair. Boomer whines faintly.

You throw your head back when he flattens his tongue, the entire surface running back and forth against your swollen clit. He lets you ride his face, your hips rolling to meet the wet muscle tipping you over the edge. But he wants to hear you— wants everyone on the block to hear you saying his name.

He dares to let go of your hip again, but this time its to push two thick fingers into you. They glide into your tight entrance, causing your back to bow. You surprise yourself with a loud cry, hips jerking. Boomer groans against your clit, his other hand digging into you, keeping you there against his mouth. He laps at you as your slick coats his chin and knuckles, the ache between his legs burning as he rolls his hips against nothing. But fuck is it worth it— He pumps his fingers in and out of you, crooking them until every thrust of your hips is punctuated with a high whine that makes Boomer's cock twitch again and again.

Your walls clench around his fingers as you come, both hands flying to grip his hair as you utter his name with a broken cry. Boomer shoves his tongue between his fingers, lapping greedily at your juices while his nose presses to your clit. You ride his face through your climax, your leg practically wrapped around the criminals head as you squeeze him.

When Boomer pulls his fingers from your entrance, you watch breathlessly as he sucks them into his smirking mouth, his cheek nuzzling against your inner thigh.

You almost laugh, the way he yelps in surprise when you yank him back up by the collar, slamming his back and head against the cell door. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a lewd pop just in time to capture your lips, and you sigh contentedly at the taste of yourself on his tongue.

"Christ," He grins when you pull away, "Kissin' my lights out, woman."

You grin in return, your hands reaching down to untie the sleeves of his jumpsuit from his waist. A deep rumble leaves Boomer's chest when you slip your hand into his boxers with ease, your warm fingers wrapping around his thick length.

You guide him forward by the waistband with your freehand until you're tumbling onto the bed. Somewhere by the end, the sound of the fast food bag hits the ground with a splat.

"Shit—" You breathe against Boomer's shining lips. He kicks out a foot and knocks the drink off the bed too.

"Fuck the food. Just ate." He's lucky his toothy smile makes you laugh.

It disappears into a strangled 'oh', however, when you press your thumb to the head of his cock, smearing the drop of precum there around. Boomer bucks into your grasp, his knees shifting to cage you in as he props himself up on top of you.

"Wanna come." He whines into your neck. You shiver as he presses his thick beard to your skin. "Please."

"You're gonna come." You murmur against his ear encouragingly. Boomer braces his forearms on the mattress, framing your head as he does so. He snaps his hips to meet your fist, his breath quickening. "Gonna make you feel so good."

Using your other hand, you reach further into his boxers and cup his sac. Boomer groans against your collar. "Oh fuck."

He buries his face further, sloppy kisses trailing over your collar as his hips begin to stutter. You knead the silky skin in your hand as your wrist makes quick work of his length. Suddenly, Boomer reels back, his hand reaching down to cover yours as his orgasm hits.

You hum at the sound of his deep, guttural moan as he cums thick ribbons across your lower belly, his hips going rigid with each final thrust.

Boomer collapses beside you with a sigh, a stupid grin plastered to his face. He drapes his arm across your chest, his toned muscles easily dragging you closer to slot you beside him. You chuckle, pushing your nose against his as Boomer comes down from his little high.

"Fuckin' hell, Y/n."

"I know," You give him a teasing pout as you card your fingers through his curly hair some more, admiring the way he looks with such a relaxed, blissful expression. "Been awhile."

"Yeah, cuz you're workin' for the man now." He grumbles against your cheek.

"Woman, technically."

Boomer frowns at the reminder of Amanda Waller— of Belle Reve and this cell he was stuck in. He grips you closer, a whine leaving his throat.

"Don't go." He mutters as you wipe the spend on your stomach off with the sleeve of his jumpsuit. You huff at him, your face a mix of fondness and regret, of course.

"Maybe if you promise not to throw another tantrum by tomorrow morning... I can come get you for another training session. There's a new roster of potential members Flag wants to suss out." He lifts his head. "If you behave."

"They're really gonna let me out two days in a row?" He questions. Even he doesn't sound convinced. You shrug, fingers pushing their way up through the thick mess of curls on his chest idly.

After a moment of silence you sit up, reaching for your pants and underwear. "It's taken a lot of work to convince Waller that training is beneficial to the task force." You try to explain as you get dressed. Boomer props himself up on an elbow, watching you. "You know how she is. Doesn't give a shit if she just throws us at every problem and see who sticks around. But if I can get her to see that there's something to all of us communicating better— Of working as a team..."

You trail off, realizing you're rambling. Boomer offers you a soundless chuckle, shaking his head as he sits up. He reaches for your belt loop, drawing you closer between his thighs.

"Look at you. Givin' a shit." He teases.

"I do give a shit, Boomer. A lot." You say seriously. He seems to sober up at that. Boomer's gaze darts away from you for a moment, fingers dropping to pick at his uniform.

"And... not to get your hopes up. But I was talking to Flag about moving you over to gen pop."

Boomer's eyes fly up to you again.

"Help me out again tomorrow. We can talk about it some more." You say, nodding your head over to the camera in the corner, whose red light was now coming back online. You take a step back, shooting him one last smile.

On the way out, you pointedly avoid making eye contact with the guard posted outside. Boomer, however, has no problem giving him a shit eating grin and both middle fingers before the door slams shut.

[xfandomseverywherex]

Tease

Request: @nekodalolita asked “Oh AHA! HERE’S W… where oops caps I make a request. Digger/Boomerang pissed cause he can’t find his jacket. Tears the place apart looking for it only to hear Harley giggling and telling him to check Readers room and he finds her laying in his jacket and nothing else, bright pink body paint covering her in different places. Please and thank you“

Warnings: Implied smut, nudity, swearing (C’mon it’s digger)

Sure thing, friend! Only slightly NSFW, as I am not totally confident in my smut-writing abilities!

“Where in the ever loving fuck is my jacket?” Digger’s voice boomed throughout your small apartment.

Digger had scavenged through every nook, cranny, and crack in your entire living room. Every pillow upturned, every table moved, every blanket shaken thoroughly. He even searched through the kitchen and bathroom, just to be sure. Digger was furious.

“Harley, I swear to god, if you took it-”

“Hun, if I took your jacket, I would be wearing it. Why dont’cha just ask your girlfriend?” Harley giggled, glancing toward the door of your bedroom, which was tightly shut.

“I knocked, she said she hasn’t seen it. Why, you think she took it?” he asked, his accent thick with frustration.

Harley giggled again, pointing toward your bedroom. “You didn’t look in there though. I bet she hiding it,” she smirking devilishly, urging Digger toward your bedroom door.

Digger growled, walking swiftly toward your door before walking in, not bothering to knock first. Before he could get much farther he stopped, not expecting the sight before him.

There you were, laying on your bed in his jacket. Nothing but his jacket.

As his eyes roamed your naked body, he couldn’t help but to admire you. His jacket was thrown haphazardly over your shoulders and bright pink body paint covered parts of your neck, chest, stomach, and legs. As Digger admired the view, he felt his pants tighten at just the mere sight of you in such little clothing.

Digger stepped forward into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Now, princess, you know I don’t like it when you take my things without asking. What do I  do when my princess misbehaves?” Digger smirked, lust in his eyes as he stepped closer to you.