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finniestoncrane · 7 months

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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.

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang x reader #captain boomer x you #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes

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rodolfoparras · 7 months

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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8okvv33/

Think he calls it his boomerang? (Especially if it has a little curve to it) Who said that 🤨

Anyways... Please ignore how horny my asks have been tonight.... It's very late 😋

-🐧

Thinking about how Digger has a humiliation kink, yet another thing he discovers accidentally. You’d been messing around in bed, kissing and feeling up each other, when Digger mentioned how you got his boomerang excited.

He’d thought you’d laugh it off or maybe scoff and roll your eyes at his words, but instead you had retorted back, mentioning something about his little boomerang.

The word had supringly stuck with him. Now don’t get it wrong he wasn’t offended by any means. Digger knew that he was big. It didn’t take much to see it. However something about you downplaying his size had him hot and bothered. And he wasn’t shy to let you know, either by his words or the grunts and groans rolling off of his tongue, hard cock pressing up against your thigh.

It doesn’t take much before you have him straddling your waist, surprisingly strong thighs working themselves up and down your length and his big cock uselessy rubbing against his stomach, smearing pre cum all over it.

Maybe you’d be so cruel to flick your finger against his tip, a faux look of disappointment on your face as you spoke about his cock as if it were non existent.

Or maybe you’d remind him of the size he’s got and how his big cock is practically useless because he’s such a slut.

Whatever you say has cries of pleasure, tumbling past his lips, with Digger practically bouncing on your dick, before tipping over the edge, ropes of cum painting both your abdomens.

It doesn’t take much before he’s realigning your cockhead up with his rim,and sinking down on your dick, his own cock fully hard, and with Digger eagerly awaiting to hear whatever you’ll say to him.

#captain boomerang #captain boomerang x male reader #captain boomerang x reader #digger harkness #digger harkness x reader #digger harkness x male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #sub male character #bottom male character #x male reader #male reader #suicide squad game

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creepling · 7 months

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⋆.˚☀︎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.”

#digger harkness x reader #captain boomerang x reader #the suicide squad #kill the justice league #ssktjl #smut #dc fanfic #ehhh might be a lil ooc it's my first time writing him sorryyy

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cappric · 5 months

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I have noticed the easiest way to get a fandom rabid is Australians

#tf2 x reader #tf2 sniper #Mozzie #max goose #Junkrat #gummigoo #tdac #And more #mk kano #mk x reader #Gridlock #roadhog #overwatch x reader #monty gator #tf2 saxton hale #captain boomerang

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acapelladitty · 10 months

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Captain Boomerang/Female Reader - Unexpected Visit

Summary - Digger interrupts a 'private' moment and the fallout is more fun that you could have anticipated.

It wasn’t the fact that you were two fingers deep in your cunt - curled digits stroking along those sensitive parts within your walls that made your breath stutter as your toes curled against the sheets. It wasn’t even the fact that your bed directly faced the door which Digger was currently filling like he owned the place.

No.

The issue was the headshot of Digger which lay clenched in your free hand and the fact that the shit-eating grin on his face told you that he had heard you moaning his name as you stroked frantically along your aching clit.

“Thinking about old Digger, eh?” Digger announced, his laughter somewhere between a growl and a giggle as he palmed his rapidly-stiffening cock with his left hand. “Maybe, if ya ask nicely, I’ll see fit to replace those fingers with something almost twice as big and throbbin’ for a quick root.”

Shame burning across your face, the heat in your cheeks as your fingers pull free of your hole with an obscenely wet noise flares in an instant; your throat tightening across the moan which threatened to break free as he pulled his fat cock from his jeans and gave it a quick tug, readying it for a chance at your willing hole.

x-x-x-x-x

Not that he was bad at it. Far from it. What he lacked in practised technique he more than made up for in enthusiasm as he quickly read the signs of what movements made your thighs tighten around his ears as your lips moaned and vibrated around his fat cock. His beard and muttonchops even provided a wonderful sensation as the graze of the coarse hair on your thighs and soaked cunt added a layer of burning discomfort that made you writhe all the more desperately in place.

Following your embarrassing little impromptu show, Digger seemed determined to experiment with various positions and it had been his stellar idea to indulge in some mutual oral sex. His appetite was ravenous and even the very thorough fucking he had only just finished delivering didn't seem enough to appease him.

But still, even you had to admit that the man had a talent for suggesting amazing ideas which very quickly went awry.

So, no.

He wasn’t bad at it.

However, this did not prove to be the issue either.

But where Digger’s good idea went to die was in his decision to take the ‘below’ position in your sixty-nine adventure. A surprisingly gentlemanly choice given that he seemed to enjoy the sensation of you pinned beneath him, held in place by his thick frame while he railed you with a messy ferocity.

Being on top had suited you to begin with, the freedom of movement allowing you to set the pace as you hollowed out your cheeks and worked slowly around his pulsing shaft. His cock wasn’t the longest but the sheer girth of the thing made it a difficult task as any attempt at taking further into your mouth essentially plugged your throat entirely.

What Digger had failed to consider, when proposing this little game, was the impressive strength which you could muster with your inner thigh muscles and how tightly you were able to hold him – his face buried deep within your cunt as you rode your orgasm out on his thick features. In that wonderful moment, his natural need to breath was long disregarded and it wasn’t until his blunted nails dug bloodied crescents into your outer thighs that you recalled that little facet of the human condition and pulled yourself free of his face with a panting gasp.

“Not the worst way to go.” Digger exclaimed cheerily as he sucked in huge, desperate inhales of air. His lower face was a mess, glistening and visibly wet with your juices as his pink tongue lapped at his own lips like a particularly thirsty dog. “But I don’t think me old mum would appreciate a retellin' of the story at my eulogy.”

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #captain boomerang x reader #captain boomerang x you #digger harkness x reader #digger harkness x you #captain boomerang fic

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mordredisacoolname · 7 months

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HEADCANONS: SU!SIDE SQUARE/BIRDS OF PREY CHARACTERS

Are they top or bottom/sub or dom

MALE READER

CHARACTERS: HARLEY QUINN, DEADSHOT (FLOYD LAWTON), RICK FLAG, CAPTAIN BOOMERANG (GEORGE "DIGGER" HARKNESS), EL DIABLO (CHATO SANTANA), POLKA DOT MAN (ABNER KRILL), THE HUNTRESS (HELENA BERTINELLI), BLACK CANARY (DINAH LANCE), VICTOR ZSASZ

Warnings: N/SFW, amab reader implied, ADULT CONTENT READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

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Harley Quinn

-I can see her being both a dom and a sub

-really depends on her mood at that moment

-she can be all submissive and a pillow princess one moment, and the next thing you know she's on top of you pinning your hands down

Deadshot/floyd Lawton

-he's a top one hundred percent

-I like to think he tried bottoming for a man one time (whether it was you or not) and didn't like it

-now for the other question, is he a dom or a sub?

-he can be both, but either way he'll be in charge

-you're on top of him controlling the pace? Nah ah, he's secretly the one in charge

-you don't know how it's possible but it's all going according to what he wants

Rick flag

-I see him being a switch

-depend on his mood

-when he's angry he wants to fuck you to defuse the tantion, but when he's in a good mood he likes getting fucked by you

-but he's totally a sub

-he likes letting go of control and trusting his partner to do what's right

Captain boomerang/George "digger" harkness

-he'll never admit this to anyone besides you but he really likes being fucked

-he's a sub, no questions

-at the beginning he only tops, too embarrassed to ask you to top

-however when you do, his world flips upside down

-he won't admit he likes it right away, saying it was "ok", but he just keeps thinking about it and eventually submits to his desires

-oh how he loves being so roughed up he cant feel his legs for the next two days

El Diablo/chato Santana

-he's definitely a sub top

-he likes when you ride him

-gripping his shoulders and setting the pace however you like

-he also really enjoys being teased and tied up

Polka dot man/Abner krill

-I feel like he enjoys fucking someone rather than being fucked, even tho he doesn't really mind either way

-he's very shy at the beginning, so you think he's a sub

-and even tho he really likes being told what to do, he also enjoys being in charge very much

-but when he doms he's a soft dom, doesn't like hurting you

The huntress/Helena bertinelli

-I see her as a switch

-enjoys both subbing and domming, but prefers subbing

-likes letting go of control and just feeling good without doing much

Black Canary/Dinah Lance

-oh she's definitely a Dom

-will literally destroy you

-she has so much energy, when you have sex get ready for at least two rounds

-she's also a teaser, likes seeing you desperate and begging for her

Victor zsasz

-he likes displaying himself as a big tough guy, how dare you suggest him being on the bottom

-but he is

-he can be a sub and a dom just fuck him hard

-will literally let you do anything to him, scratch him, choke him, slap him, he's all yours

-but if you say something about it to others you better run

-also he's totally a brat

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issdisgrace · 7 months

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LIST OF THINGS I THINK DIGGER HARKNESS LIKE TO INDULGE IN

WARNINGS: NSFW, hide your eyes minors, holy men don’t read

A/N: Was tired and horny when writing this. Also shout out to @rodolfoparras for putting these thoughts into my head. Also sorry if it’s a little repetitive.

Blood kink - Use your blood, his blood, or someone else’s blood as lube to stretch him open. Smear blood all over him and tell him how pretty he is.

Bondage - Ropes, handcuffs, zip ties, whatever just tie him up and fuck him dumb.

Breath play - Wrap your hand around his neck as you fuck him and only let go when he’s starting to lose consciousness, pinch his nose shut while he’s giving you a blowjob and make almost blackout before fucking his mouth.

Breeding kink - Breed him from dusk to dawn, fill him full of cum, plug him up afterwards, make him go on his day filled with your cum and painfully hard because he can’t get the fact he’s filled with your cum off his mind.

СВТ - Tie him up, step on him, slap him, Christ bite him and this man is cumming the second anything happens. He fucking loves the pain, he survives and thrives off of it.

Degradation - Call him a slut, call him a whore, call him any degrading name you can think of and he will fucking eat it up, getting harder and harder with each word.

Orgasm control - Deny him, overstimulate him, just whatever you do make sure he can only cum on your terms and conditions.

Feminization kink - Call him baby girl or your woman, make him wear women’s clothes, make him wear makeup, get him all pretty then fuck him till his makeup is ruined and his clothes are torn to shreds.

Gun kink - Hold your gun to his head while you fuck him or while he gives you a blowjob. Let a shot out into wall or even someone near you and he’s fucking cum everywhere.

Humiliation - Make fun of his cock, make fun of everything about him, and he will cum hands free.

Impact play - Slap him, spank him, punch him, kick him, and he will get absolutely rock fucking solid. He loves the pains.

Knife kink - Cut him, fuck him with your knife against his throat, carve your initials into him, make him lick his blood off your knife, smear his blood across with your knife.

Manhandling - Throw him around like a fucking rag doll. Pick him up and fuck him against the wall. Even better fuck him mid air.

Marking kink - Digger loves for everyone to know that he’s yours but also yours his. Hickeys, bites, scratches, etc, loves them all to death.

Piss kink - Piss in him, piss on him, he’s in fucking heaven. He’s drinking it up (literally). Make him feel like a fucking pig.

Praise - Tell him how good he is for you. Tell him that he is a good boy. Just praise the absolute shit out of him and make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Public/Semi Public - Diggers really horny for you all the time so he couldn’t care less on location. He loves the risk of being caught and actually being caught.

Scent kink - He obsessed with the way you smell. He wants his face buried in your pits or into your crotch at least 4 hours a day. Steals your clothes and gets off to your smell.

Size kink - This goes with the manhandling. Digger loves that you’re bigger and taller than him. Just you standing next to him got him hot under the collar.

Somnophilia - Man is a heavy sleeper so you can just use him and he wouldn’t even know and that’s so fucking hot to him. He loves when he wakes up and can feel your cum dripping out of him.

Spit kink - Please spit on him, spit in his mouth, spit on his hole, spit on his cock. He fucking loves it makes him feel dirty and hot.

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #dc #captain boomerang x male reader #captain boomerang x reader #digger harkness x male reader #digger harkness x reader #dc x male reader #dc x reader

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typhoons-mess · 7 months

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i just want boomer and a brat reader like won't listen to him and is a little shit

Little Shit

Captain Boomerang x Reader

Warnings: Reader is a lil shit, sexual theme mentions

Rules • Request • Masterlist

It’s been a hot minute since I wrote so bear with me-I SWEAR I USED TO MANY YOUS IN THIS

You knew what would happen if you didn't follow his orders. But it was just so fun to watch him get frustrated. Especially when you had hidden his favorite unicorn somewhere in his apartment.

Jealousy might have sparked this little escapade. Seeing him pay more attention to the little stuffie than you wasn't fair. But at least he's paying attention to you now.

“Now luv', I ain’t gonna ask again. Where did ya hide it?” Digger looked at you with his arms crossed. He’s usually a sweet dummy, but he doesn’t make exceptions to his unicorn missing. You kick your feet as you look up at him, “I have no idea what you're talking about Digger.” He clicks his tongue as he crosses his arms, “Oh I know ya do luv'. And you know I don’t let anyone touch em’.”

"Like I said. I don't know what-" a thump can be heard coming from the other room. You looked nervously towards your bedroom where you hide the object. It must have fallen from the top of your closet since you had to stand on your tippy toes to get it up there. Digger starts to make a move towards the door, which makes you get up and sprint to the room. "Oi! I know it's in there now cupcake!" Giggling you open up the door to your room with Digger right behind you, scampering to the closet to get to the stuffie. Seeing it on the floor you scoop it up.

Giggling you run around the room with the unicorn in your hand as Digger stares you down. "You trying to make Daddy mad luv'?" He smirks at you, "Maybe looking for a spankin'?" Your face flushes thinking about him bending you over his knee. Seeing this, Digger sees it as an opening to scoop you up into his arms. "H-hey! You cheated!" whining out as he whispered into your ear. "Then ya shouldn't have been such a lil' brat and stealing my things."Snatching the stuffed unicorn out of your hands, purring into your ear, "Naughty girl."

Pouting you looked over your should towards him. "I just wanted for you to pay attention to me..."Giving a lopsided smile, he squeezes you. "Awe cupcake, all you had to do was ask. You know I love to focus on you at all times." You smile down at the ground as he kisses the side of your temple.

"Now, let Daddy give you the attention you need."

#captain boomerang ktjl x reader #captain boomerang x reader #george harkness x reader #digger harkness ktjl x reader #digger harkness x reader

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gilverrwrites · 6 months

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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?”

#captain boomerang x reader #captain boomerang imagine #captain boomerang smut #digger harkness x reader #george digger harness x reader #gilverrwrites

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thequeenofuselessinformation · 7 months

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Need I say more

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nobitchs-world · 4 months

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Me when my favorite tag updates when it hasn’t been updated in months

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finniestoncrane · 7 months

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shuffles in here hiii I was hoping to request KTJL!Boomer x Fem nb reader (she/they with feminine genitalia and the like, who is on the curvier side in terms of body type) who are in an established relationship and just having a fun night in together

I’m not super picky on what directions things go and honestly it could just be pwp but I would love to see the following things included in no particular order:

boomer being his usual sleazy self lol

mean but playful flirting

praise kink

squirting

overstimulation

reader being really into Boomer’s hands

mating press

i love love love your writing, the way you write boomer is so good! I hope you’re having a good day!

Messy

KTJL!Boomer x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.2k okey dokey i THINK i managed to cover everything, even if i did get sidetracked by the squirting!💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: fingnering, squirting, overstimulation, flirting, teasing, good old fashioned fuckin

You held his hands, stretching the fingers out, holding them, placing your palm against his, before letting your fingers fall between his, pulling him to you, clutching at his hands as you pressed them to your sternum.

"I like your hands, George. They're big. Strong. And very skilled."

Flattery was alwas the way with Digger. Stroke his ego, and you got the same result as if you were stroking anywhere else on his body. In response to your compliments, he lifted his hand, taking yours with him, kissing the back of it before letting it rest back on your chest.

"Comes in handy, I suppose. There's a fair bit of you to grab, I like to make sure I get the most out of ya."

You giggled, delighting in the way he smiled wide as he stared over your body. Trying to hide your own beaming grin, you took your hand from his. When you let go of it, he walked his fingers down your body, stopping at your abdomen and grinning as you whined.

“You really that desperate for it?”

Familiar by now with Digger's brand of playful teasing, you played innocent, knowing he preferred to tease you, to see you blush.

“I’m not desperate at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

With one hand on your waist, he reached the other down under your panties, fingers splaying you open, one of them sliding between your lips to collect your slick.

“You seem pretty keen.”

Splaying you open, fingers spreading your lips, he drooled at the sight of your pussy, shockingly wet already.

"I could drown in there, and you're gonna lie and say you're not absolutely frothing, huh?"

Biting your lip, you tried to avoid eye contact with him, your blush and giggles already giving up your true feelings under his scrutiny.

"Hey, no worries, babe. Let the Captain take care of you, no judgements. I'm ready for a dirty, wet root myself."

The way his voice rasped on the words, almost growling, had you unconsciously opening your legs wider, giving him complete access to you. And he took that invitation, immediately curling his fingers up inside of you, his thumb lazily circling your clit as you began to moan, warmth spreading over you, the heat of arousal spreading.

It always felt good when George was giving you his full attention, focused on only your pleasure, his long, strong fingers stroking and fucking you, much more manageable than his cock. This felt slightly different though. You coudn't tell if it was the build up, the romantic, lazy way you had been curled up in his arms before, or if he was trying a new technique, but there was a pressure in your abdomen that was new.

And you were closer, far quicker than usual. Orgasm imminent, you clutched at the bedsheets below you, certain that George was about to make you cum in record time, his sexual expertise once again impressing you. But instead of a body clenching climax, your thighs wet with your own arousal, you let out a scream unlike anything you thought you were capable of. You gushed, streams of liquid exploding from you, splashing onto George, his chest dripping, covered in you.

“Fuck me, babe!”

“George… I’m so sorry, I didn’t even know I could-“

“You got another one in ya?”

He thrust his fingers back inside of you, free hand tapping lightly on your clit as he pumped his digits into your walls, crooked up and tapping at the exact spot that had made you gush before. There you were, writhing under his touch, skin still flushed in embarrassment after making a mess everywhere. And there he was, on top of you, grunting with exertion as he tried to recreate the explosive burst of pleasure, his body positioned in a way that meant he would be soaked, covered in you. Mouth open. Tongue hanging out. Hoping to get a taste.

“I really don’t know if I FUCK!”

A quick spurt emanated from your quivering pussy, legs shaking, body trembling as you squealed in delight. But it wasn’t enough. It was a tiny dribble, and George was intent on making a splash.

“George… I don’t think… I can’t take much more…”

“Just a little bit longer, sweetheart.”

He caught your eyes, keeping his locked in to yours.

“You can do it, eh? Make old Digger happy, huh?”

The pleading tone, the way his crooked smile made his long, hooked nose curl up slightly, made your heart flutter. It was too much. You were over the line, body convulsing, tears forming in the corners of your eyes from the strain. Every one of your limbs felt like they were twitching and spasming as the continuous orgasm coursed through your nervous system. And then finally.

"That's it... good girl... what a good girl!"

With a scream, you felt your muscles relax, body falling into the mattress, your legs still kicking a little as you felt the liquid erupt from you. One quick spurt, followed by another, and then a long, splashing wave that soaked George as he leant in. Smiling wide, mouth gratefully receiving everything he could catch in it, moaning and gargling as he spat some back over his lips and down his chin.

Licking his lips, he once again caught your eyes, a predatory, hungry look glinting in his light green irises. Shuffling inelegantly on his knees, he lined himself up with your body, your legs open and resting at either side of his hips. Before you could get comfortable in that position, however, he caught you under your knees, pulling you to him, his cock resting against your cunt as he pushed your legs back, carefully and slowly, until your ass was raised and your body was pressed down to where he wanted you.

Rubbing the head of his cock along your slit, coating it in your own cum, he slid himself into you and began pumping his impressive length in and out, alread stretching you, bringing you close to yet another orgasm as you whimpered.

Everything about you in this position made his heart pound. The way your stomach folded, jiggling as he thrust, how he could see your eyes closed tight, teeth biting down on your lip, your breasts bouncing with each brutal pounding of his body into yours. Pinned down, submissive, ready for him to fill you up.

And it was equally good for you, having him take control, a little raucous, a bit dirty, like you were being used by him. The thought of that alone, that you were there to take him, for him to empty himself into, made your clit twitch, the heat in your stomach growing as you reached another climax.

"George... I think I might... again..."

"Yeah, no shit princess, I'm actually counting on it!"

He grabbed onto your hips, thumbs digging into the plush skin there to get a better hold of you as he pummelled your body, desperate to see if he could have both of you finish at the same time. He imagined that would be quite messy, and that was how he liked it.

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang x reader #captain boomer x you #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes

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