swampiewrites

[swampiewrites]

Small Hands

Guy sees himself in the kid down the hall that flinches at loud noises.

Sometimes it feels like he never left, that he was still stuck in that house, still the same little boy that cowered under his sheets with tears in his eyes with every shout and curse from his father. He spent years of his youth trying to look forward, fixated on a future of success and freedom, one that would have his piece of shit old man gritting his teeth in regret and envy, but he’s still stuck in the past.

That’s more than apparent when the argument—or one sided verbal attack from the apartment across the hall continued for what felt like hours. He’s never met his neighbours, but he definitely knew more about them than he should with the shouting matches that occurred every night. He knows that it’s because of a man. A man that takes out his own frustrations, his own inadequacies out on someone weaker than him, he sees his father on the other side of the door. He tries not to see himself.

He’s had enough of listening to some scum of the Earth bastard screaming at his girl. He doesn’t know if they’re married, but he wants to tell her to run, that it never gets better. That she has no reason to stay.

When he slams his door open, he’s not afraid. He’s Guy Gardner, (former) Green Lantern of Earth, chosen by the Guardians (to be Jordan’s understudy), and there is no one he’s afraid of. He knows what to expect from a pathetic, mad man.

But when he sees a small curled up figure flinch and stare up at him with fearful eyes, he falters, freezing at his doorway, the sound of yelling louder. The scene feels familiar. He should have known. His own mother, too afraid to strike out on her own, to be solely responsible for messing up her kids by taking them away from their father. He feels hopeless, anger fading. What good were his fists and own loud words? He knows seeing a man beat on his old man as a kid that craved his father’s approval would have hurt him.

The kid looks up at him cautiously, huddled by the apartment door.

Guy Gardner, who rushed into fights fist first, always with something to spit out was no help here.

His head hurts, which wasn’t too uncommon after nearly becoming a brain dead, comatose patient.

Guy, the boy that left the hell he called a home, to be better, could at least try.

“Don’t think it’s too safe for a rugrat like you to be loitering around,” he speaks up, willing, because it always comes down to will, his hands not to shake.

The kid remains quiet.

“I’ve,” he struggles for a moment, “I’ve got some cake in the fridge if you stop acting like a mouse caught in a trap.”

He turns around, leaving his door open. Why is this so hard for him? The words he really wants to say, trapped in his chest, it’s hard to believe he once spent his days in a classroom. It feels like a lifetime ago.

He hears some shuffling and the door closing, yells blissfully muffled again. He sends a quick thank you that Tora’s been dropping off various meals and treats, her worry in him leaving the Corps and League more than clear.

He cuts into buttercream and yellow sponge cake, firmly throwing any thoughts of Tora and her pity out of his head for a moment.

He sets the kid up in his messy living room, a slice of cake and glass of milk on his shitty coffee table, some colourful cartoon blaring on the TV.

He leans back on his couch, wondering how he got here, watching how small hands made a normal fork look gigantic. The kid, eyes still glued on the TV, reaches for the glass, only to accidentally knock it over with their elbow. The kid shoots up, panic clear from the tension in their little shoulders, meeting his gaze with apprehension.

He raises his hand placatingly, moving to grab some paper towels. “Hey, no harm, no foul, it’d be a new low for me to cry over some spilled milk.”

The kid watches him wipe down the table, moving the glass aside, “See, good as new! No need to sweat it.”

The kid relaxes and he wonders how someone could berate that chubby face over something so minuscule. Was he so clearly small and scared once?

The kid opens their mouth for a moment before staring at the door, the silence now apparent. They run to the door, stopping to look back for a moment before rushing out.

He resolves himself again. He’s no hero, but he can be a warrior, violent and monstrous, especially for a kid that can’t even cry for help.

But, to his surprise, the next day, he sees the mother pack the kid into her car with whatever else she could fit into it with an angry asshole breathing over her shoulder. He hadn’t even considered she would have just left. His own mother never could. Seeing the woman ignore the shouting coming from her former partner, Guy realizes he’s never respected a person more than in this very moment. Leaning against the wall, he looks out his window, watching the father make a fool out of himself.

The kid doesn’t need a hero, clearly.

Rather than the emptiness or agitation he’s felt since losing the ring, he’s relieved. Probably the best he’s felt since his fight with Hal. He’s glad the kid will get a chance to live in a house where they won’t cower at raised voices.

Any positive emotion he feels is quickly overshadowed by anger when he sees the man push the woman down onto the ground, voice reaching a near roar as the kid scrambles out of the car to reach their mother.

He moves, shooting out of his apartment, down the stairs, barely registering when his feet meets concrete, too focused on the man he’s about to kill. He’s barely able to turn around before Guy’s fist is slammed into his face, a loud crunch filling the air, the man crashing against the pavement, body limp.

For a moment, he only pants, blinking. Unconscious just like that?

“That…was surprisingly easy,” he comments, almost speechless for once in his life. And, of course it was easy, he realizes, abusive shit he is, this was just another man, another father.

The kid stares up at him, blessedly not with fear, but with wonder.

“One punch…one punch!” The kid laughs, childish mirth clear, face transforming into someone without fear.

Now, he’s speechless.

He begins to laugh too.

“Yeah, it is pretty funny, huh, pipsqueak?”

But hopefully this gets at least one person to read up on Guy (Guy Gardner 1992!!), I know a lot of people label him as nothing more than an ‘asshole character’, but there’s a story behind his demeanour. Also mandatory ‘one punch’

And for the readers that never had anyone intervene when you needed it most, I’m sorry.

I think leaving the kid obviously unnamed feels right, sometimes strangers are kinder than your own.

Masterlist

[swampiewrites]

Absolute Boomer and his tooth gap has me giggling

[swampiewrites]

A kind debt

Before you read, please keep in mind that my media consumption of DC is very limited- I've mostly consumed the animated shows.

Summary: Kal-el finds himself in the warmth of a quiet home, a kind reader offering him a place to stay and a delicious dinner.

Absolute Superman x reader (GN)

Masterlist , notes at the end.

The sun was low, not that many could tell due to the clouds and pollution that littered the sky, the only tell was the dark red coloring of the falling sun. The indication of the day ending and curfew setting into place had people ushering their kids inside the small homes, closing their front doors and cracking their windows in preparation for the night. The smell of dinner didn't reach far, families struggling to scrap enough together to feed the young or elderly.

It was routine for everyone, feed the important people first- usually the children- then let everyone else portion what little was left. The working men would push their plates to their wives and parents, saying it wasn't needed even though they worked almost the entire day.

Kal-el looked down at the plate in front of him, hair following down and draping over his face, obscuring his eyes from your gaze. There was a proud smile on your face as you looked at the top of his head, completely ignoring how you couldn't see his eyes anymore.

“Enjoy!” You said, walking behind the man- almost strutting with pride over how you were able to feed the Superman that was helping people around the world, helping people like you. It felt nice, making a meal for someone else, someone who helped.

It wasn't intentional, feeding him, when you first saw him it didn't even register that he was the Superman. All you were trying to do was get him out of the broken down street, just an hour before curfew was no time for anyone to be walking out there, obviously he didn't have a place to stay- the only reasonable explanation. Quickly you had ran out and grabbed into him, pulling his arm- with him in tow- into your home just before the Lazarus soldiers turned the corner of the street to see either of you.

After you had closed the door was another story. You were finally able to get a good look at him, the stress washing off into worry for the new man who almost got himself hurt. The worry was unwarranted, he has very quietly pushed you off when you tried checking him for any injury, the Superman or not it was polite. And that's how he ended up at your dinner table, a plate of pasta in front of him.

When you walked behind him your hand gently slipped across his shoulders, which in turn tensed under the gentle touch of your hand. His head whipped around to look at you, eyeing your head from behind as you walked into a different room, he was still on survival instincts- that's all he was ever on now a days.

“Kal-el, I suggest you eat” Sol has said in his ear, the suit taking control of his hand for a mere second to nudge it closer to the fork. “The food has several registered proteins.”

He glances down at the plate again, looking at the tomato chunks in the sauce. It wasn't hard for him to give in, if Sol thought it was safe who was he to resist? After living off of scraps and very small meals given to him, this was like a dream. Kal-el took the fork and picked at the pasta, twirling it around before eating what was collected on the fork.

God did it taste better than his usual diet, all the fighting and wandering really worked up an appetite for him. He continued to eat like any normal person would, hunched over with both his arms on the table, absolutely inhaling the entire plate which resulted in barely giving himself time to chew. When you came back in he had a hand on his chest while quietly coughing to get some of the food unstuck from his throat.

It was a humorous sight, the people's hero struggling to calmly eat spaghetti which resulted in the sauce covering his lower face. “Here” you offered a hand towel over to him, leaning on the table while watching him wipe his face. “I got a room set up for you. It's not much, but I made sure the most comfortable blankets I have will be yours tonight.” Pushing yourself off the table you take the now empty plate from him and go to set it on the counter.

He made a small sound of protest, staring at the plate on the counter before making eye contact with you. “Seconds?” He eagerly nods, turning back around to sit properly at the table for a moment, then he turns back around and looks you right in the eyes. “Thank you” he offered before rushing to turn around again.

As soon as the player hit the table again he dug in, this time going a little slower so he could properly process it instead of choking silently. You pulled out a chair and sat at the end of the table, resting your head on your hands and watching him enjoy the last of your portions- something that didn't go unnoticed by him.

Soon after he pushed the plate towards you, half of it still full of pasta. His silent offer was polite, but from the way he was looking at the plate still you could tell he wanted the rest. “I'm okay” you replied, gently reaching over to push the plate back to him. The action made him perk up and pull the plate back towards him to finish off the rest in big bites.

The hand towel given to him earlier was once again used to fully wipe away any leftover sauce. When he set the towel down and looked at you it was like a bright light flashing at you, his eyes trained on yours while he gently set the fork on the plate with a ‘clink’!

“Thank you” He repeats the only thing he's said all night. “You're welcome” You reply, offering him a smile that he doesn't return, but that's okay. Pushing back your chair you stand up and take the plate from him, he didn't look at it this time.

After the plate was set down in the sink you gesture over to the room you had left a little while ago, “that'll be your room for tonight. Please make yourself comfortable.” The offer was kind and it's obvious he understood, standing up and slowly walking over to look into the room. It was empty besides the bed and a small table next to it. “I apologize that it isn't much.”

He turns back to you when you speak, resting a hand on the door frame, “It's fine, thank you.” Him speaking more than two words was a surprise, though you laughed to yourself at how he has said ‘thank you’ three times tonight- almost back to back.

“Please, get some rest. I'm sure your body needs it.” You gesture for him to go into the room, turning around to do the dishes right after, not at all bothering to make sure he actually went into the room. Not that it matters, he did listen.

“Rest is recommended, a mere 6 hours would help replenish your health.” Sol spoke up, gently ringing in Kal-el’s ear as he closed the door. Kal-el just nodded and walked over to the bed, pushing back all of the blankets and getting into it. He only pulled two of the blankets backup to cover him, not really needing them to stay warm for the night.

His mind replayed the events of the night, up until he entered the bedroom he now rested in. He saw no reason for your kindness to be given to him, to allow him to be in the safety of your walls and eat your food, to rest peacefully in your blankets. To rest in the warmth of a home, albeit a lonely one.

Your hospitality would not go un-repaid, he swore it to himself. He would figure out how to give back the kindness you had shown him, and with that last thought he drifted into one of the nicest dreams he'd had in a long time.

-------------------------

Hopefully I wrote him okay. I read all the Absolute Superman comics today and really fell in love with him, probably more than regular Superman if I'm being honest.

I would love to write for more of the Absolute universe soon, so if you've got any ideas please feel free to tell me about them!! ❤️

[swampiewrites]

For Hours: TransMan!Logan x Reader

Summary:

'He looked gorgeous, his big brown eyes stare at you, “can you give me one more?” you ask pleadingly, hands rubbing gently up and down his thighs as you leave wet kisses and lightly nip along his v-line, eyes still looking up at him.'

You go down on Logan for hours as he smokes.

Content: NSFW! MDNI! 18+, smut, oral sex (char receiving), overstimulation, smoking, smoking during sex, inappropriate descriptions of cigar smoking, multiple orgasms, teasing, come eating, come swallowing, face-fucking (kinda), tongue fucking, shameless smut

Notes: Reader is meant to be masc, but besides being referred to as “good boy”, there aren’t any gender markers.

Word Count: 1k

AO3 LINK

“Shit,” Logan hissed out, hand clinging desperately to your hair as you continued to work your tongue along his clit; a puff of smoke leaves his mouth.

Logan was laying on his back, a pillow under his waist as he lazily grinds his hips against your face. You’ve been between Logan’s legs for what has felt like hours, laying on your stomach with your arms wrapped around his thighs. Neither of you cared how much time has passed since the two of you started. You’ve been too focused on making Logan cum on your tongue over and over again, and he’s too focused on keeping your head between his thighs.

He tasted divine, almost heavanly. You moved your tongue from his clit to his hole, licking up his release from his last orgasim. Your tongue entered him, pushing up against his plush walls. You moaned as you pushed forward, moving your face further into his heat, greedily taking all that was gifted to you. Your chin was drenched with his wetness and your spit. Not that you cared, Logan’s pleasure was much more important than the mess you’ll have to clean up later.

His thighs tremble under your grip. Red, crescent shaped marks being carved into the meat of his inner thigh as you continue to keep them spread apart. His grip on your hair tightened and relaxed, his other hand lazily holding a cigar to his mouth. Puffs of smoke leaving his mouth as he lazily looks down at you. His eyes were droopy and tired. He slowly rolled his head, popping his neck before he returned his focus to you.

The sight before him was sinful, but he couldn’t help but keep staring. His thighs flexed, glistening in the lamp light, and covered with a mix of both of your fluids. He watches as you continue to clean up his release. Who knows how many times he’s cummed already, both of you losing count a while ago. He removes the cigar from his mouth gingerly before his hand falls to his side lazily, letting it hang off the edge of the bed.

Logan moans out your name, cursing you as you flatten your tongue against him and lick up from his hole to his enlarged t-dick, slowly taking it into your mouth and sucking on it harshly. Logan hissed again, throwing his head back and groaned loudly. You laugh a little, a smirk on your face as you detach yourself from his cunt, kissing his tip as you make eye contact with him.

He looks down at you, hair messy and forehead covered with a sheen of sweat. He looked gorgeous, his big brown eyes stare at you, “can you give me one more?” you ask pleadingly, hands rubbing gently up and down his thighs as you leave wet kisses and lightly nip along his v-line, eyes still looking up at him.

His hand untangles from your hair and moves to cup your cheek. He rubs your face tenderly with the pad of his thumb before gently pushing your head back to his core. You immediately reattach yourself to his dick, “good boy,” Logan drags out in his gruff voice, letting his head fall back against the pillow and gripping your hair again.

Logan brings his cigar back to his mouth, tenderly wrapping his mouth around the head of it and taking a slow drag. His mouth leaves a dark, wet ring around the tip of the cigar as he drools slightly at the repeated intense pleasure caused by your tongue. He releases the smoke out, grinding his hips along your face once again. One of your hands left his thighs, trailing upwards to cup and grope at his chest. Your fingers weave through his chest hairs as you pinch and twist at his nipple. Logan groans at your action. He leaves the cigar in his mouth, letting his hand grip your wrist before trailing down your arms and stopping at your shoulder.

His fingernails dig into your shoulder, almost breaking skin. The bucking of his hips gets faster as you continue to fuck your tongue into his sensitive slit. Logan lets out another puff of smoke and groans loudly once more.

He releases on your tongue once more, whining as you guide him through his final orgasim. Logan removed his hand from his hair and brought it up to rest on his sweat covered forehead before letting it fall to his side. He raised his head up from the pillow, a dazed and fucked out expression on his face as he looks at you as you raise your head from his soaking cunt.

Logan’s release was all on the bottom half of your face, but you could care less at the moment. He watched as you brought your hand up to your face, swiping your thumb across your chin to gather his release, and then sucking your thumb clean. Logan gestured for your lazily, bringing you forward. You moved up, thighs straddling his waist as you took the cigar from his mouth in between your thumb and pointer finger. You brought it up to your mouth and took a long, slow drag from it, moaning softly as you removed it from your mouth and blew the smoke out.

Logan’s hands rubbed circles along your clothed thighs, watching you intently and waiting for you to finish. He stared up at you lovingly as you then slowly leaned down to kiss him tenderly on the lips. You rested your forehead against his as you both breath in each other’s air, enjoying each other for a brief moment.

You move your head to kiss Logan on the cheek. His eyes follow you before slowly closing with a sigh, “I’ll start the bath love,” you say softly as you go to get up, helping Logan sit up a bit before going to your shared bathroom.

“Okay,” Logan nods lazily, his forehead still resting against yours as you lean into him to help him up.

[swampiewrites]

Home: Dr.Phosphorus x GN!Reader

Summary: After the car Waller borrowed to you and Phosphorus breaks down after a mission, Alex must stay with you for a week waiting for a Belle Reve plane to retrieve him.

Rating: General Audience, SFW, Fluff, slight angst, proofread (finally)

Word Count: 1.7k

AO3 Link

Fic Below :)

It felt weird being here. Walking here, waking up here, hell, even breathing here felt weird. It wasn’t the first time Alex has been in a house obviously, but being in your house? This was different. And most definitely a first.

It was a mission gone somewhat wrong that led to this. You are an old member of a previous suicide squad. Once your sentence at Belle Reve was over, you went back to living your peaceful life. But you happened to be a friend of Rick Flag, and you owe Amanda a few favors, so seeing you get paired up with Task Force M every now and then wasn’t an uncommon thing to see.

This time, you were assigned to go with Phosphorus to recover some needed files for Waller. A quick in and out mission, however the truck that was borrowed to the two of you was shot at on the way out because your cover was blown. One blown tire, a long phone call with Waller, and one very long Uber ride later, the two of you were now staying at your place for the week until a jet gets sent over.

It made Alex uneasy. Even with all the reassurance you offered every time he asked if it was okay to stay here while he waited for Waller to come get him. He still didn’t feel comfortable here. Well, maybe not uncomfortable, almost like he didn’t belong here.

You had let him borrow some old clothes so he didn’t have to wear the same pants and coat for a week. You fixed him food the night before. You even let him take the spare room. Alex had already mentally prepared himself to sleep on the couch, but no, he’s sleeping in his own room. The bed was more comfortable than a cloud, he almost didn’t want to get up the next morning.

Alex sighed, looking around the guest bedroom once again and taking in the homeliness of it all. The walls were a gray-ish blue, there were painted pictures on each wall, the currents were an off white color. And to top it all off, he even had his own TV. That was something he hasn’t had in forever.

It was currently playing a local news station. It’s been playing the local news station since the night before. He had full control over the remote but he’s basically keeping himself from changing it.

You knocked at the door and Alex shot up from his seat on the unmade bed. He quickly turned his head to look at it and wondered if he should try and make it look better before you came in. His thought was quickly shot down as you opened the door a crack to peek in before opening it all the way.

“Hey-“

“Mornin-“

You both greeted each other, stammering a bit and trying to decide who should go first. You laughed a bit, apologizing before continuing, “you never came down for breakfast.”

“Sorry, just not used to all this I guess,” Alex explained swiftly, rocking forward on his feet before settling on the floor again.

“You’re fine,” you chirped, “I just wanted to let you know that there’s still food for you in the fridge. I’m gonna be outside working on a few things, but feel free to come get me if you need anything,” you explained with a smile.

Alex nodded, “thank you, I’ll get some in a bit,” he said with a tilt of his head.

Phosphorus had to basically learn to redo his body language when speaking. Some had described his tendency to say sarcastic stuff in a flat tone as ‘unnerving’ given that he doesn’t really have totally visible facial expressions.

You nodded, “feel free to join me, if you want of course,” you patted the door frame as you turned to leave.

Alex nodded and looked around the room again. He listened to you walk downstairs and walk outside, the door shutting behind you. Alex then left the guest room, and walked downstairs.

Your house was littered with photos and small sentimental items. It wasn’t really what Alex expected when you said you had a place nearby. It isn’t an insult, but a comparison? Observation? The few people that make it out of Belle Reve don’t usually have a place to stay, and if they do it’s a crummy apartment on the bad end of some town. That usually leads to the cycle repeating itself and old faces becoming present ones in the cell across from you. But your place? It’s different.

It made Phosphorus question what you did to end up in Belle Reve to begin with. Your place is nice, you obviously have a family of some kind, and what looks to be a job. Alex sighed, looking down at his plate of now finished food. You even cooked well. Good cooks don’t belong in Belle Reve, that’s something Phosphorus knows for damn sure given how many times he’s been served the same slop over there.

You walked back through the door, tool bag in hand, “hey,” you said nonchalantly as you slipped your boots off at the door.

You placed your bag on the ground and walked over to the fridge to get a glass of water, “hey,” Alex greeted back.

Alex got up and placed his plate in the sink next to you. Curiosity was eating away at him at this point, “what did you do?”

“Hm?”

“Like,” Alex sighed, “to get into Belle Reve?”

You sat your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to speak before closing it quickly. You weren’t exactly sure how to explain it. It’s a combination of a lot of things, and then one major thing, and then no one understanding how much pain one person can take before they break.

Alex caught the look in your eyes, “you don’t have to explain, I’m just curious given the everything,” he gestured to your house.

“No it’s fine,” he laughed lightly at his gesture, “it’s just a lot and not really something I want to get into right now,” you explained, smiling at the man in front of you.

Alex nodded, feeling slightly guilty for making you think of it all, “I understand.”

You downed the rest of your water before setting the glass in the sink. You turned to Alex fully, “I finished a job my dad couldn’t, if you are so curious,” you snickered at the last bit of your words.

Alex smiled, “I am nosey,” he held up his hands in playful defense.

“Don’t I know it,” you laughed again, looking Alex in the ‘eyes’.

You had a soft, barely there outline of his facial features. They are highlighted slightly by the gentle glow he admits. It was a small detail you noticed about him a few months ago. Phosphorus had fallen asleep on your shoulder coming back from a mission with Richard Flag and Bride. You may have taken advantage of the situation and stared at Alex a little longer than one would consider normal. He’s got a strong nose, and crows' feet that peek out at the corners of his eyes. They become slightly more prominent when he smiles. Like, actually smiles.

Which is what he was doing right now as the two of you continued to talk random gibber-gabber. Off handed jokes and comments about the random people the two of you worked with in the past. Both before and during Task Force M and Belle Reve.

The conversation carried on throughout the day. Alex asking randomly questions about your life outside of the task force, wanting to get you know you more than the man with the mask. And you ask him random personality questions and what his favorite movie is.

It is Little Miss Sunshine. Which made sense, but it was a bit surprising. You had fully expected Kickass, American Psycho, or maybe even Danny Darko. “Really?” You laughed out as you pulled leftovers out of the fridge and portioned them out onto two plates.

Alex sat across from you at the kitchen island, watching you move some smoothly within your space. Almost like you didn’t care that was there, you’re aware of him. Used to him being there, even after a day of his presence within your space. Alex chuckled a bit, “it’s a classic, good plot, great writing and acting,” he kept watching you.

“I can’t argue there,” you placed one plate at a time in the microwave and heated them up.

“Do you even need to eat?” You asked randomly, giving Alex a fork and napkin, “not saying I don’t want to feed you,” you laugh awkwardly, “I’m just-“

“Nosey?” He finished for you.

You smiled at him, “a bit,” and laughed.

“I technically don’t,” he said as he took a bite of his food, “I just still enjoy eating.”

You nodded, understanding his reasoning. You also enjoy food and would want to still eat even if you didn’t have to, “I had a feeling. I’d still cook for you either way,” you said as you also took a bite of food.

“You need to apply to be a cook at Belle,” he joked.

You scoffed, “as if.”

Alex laughed at your reaction, “what? I thought you said you’d feed me either way?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “I’d rather cook for you here. Besides, here I get to eat across from you again,” you said as you got up to refill your water.

If Alex had visible skin he’d be blushing. His stomach got tied up in knots. It’s true he also missed seeing you on a regular basis. He’s not upset at you for leaving, he’s actually extremely happy for you that your sentence ended. It’s just not the same eating in the cafeteria without you joking about something with him, “you’ve got me there,” he laughed nervously, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie.

You returned with a full glass of water and smiled at the man across from you. You hesitated before speaking, “you know,” you cleared your throat.

Alex looked up at your nervous, flushed expression, “if you want, I can put in a request with Flag and Waller to give you visiting clearance with me?” You glanced up at Alex, a bit nervous.

“Like, to leave Belle?” He questioned.

You nodded, “yeah, while under my supervision since I’m technically an honorary officer. I can let you stay here for a week max every now and then,” you explained, “only if you want, of course.”

Alex smiled gently at you, “yeah, I like that idea.”

Maybe staying here doesn’t sound too bad. Especially if it’s with you