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 Posting a reply to post #4434

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4434 No.4434
Is there anything on these two? Thomas/Floyd aka Catman/Deadshot, does it even exist?

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Kitchen sex would be epic. But anything with these two would be awesome.


I second this motion. HARD

Oh rule 34, why must you fail me now!

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I'm gonna just leave this here.




I don't even know about this pairing but I love the art.



The pic is just delicious and it temps me greatly to write fic... but I know not the characters.

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Secret Six. Deadshot and Catman.

There's several Marvel kink memes floating around, is it time for a DC rare pairing one to get more delicious mercenary action?



And maybe after I've dled/read a bit about them, some writefaggery?

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That would be most generous anon.

I bring more art (I didn't draw this, it's from DA)

There are tons of requests here that haven't been filled:

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MOTHERFUCK saving this thread from the last page.

/co/ had a fuckawesome Secret Six thread yesterday that kind of converted me and of course the first thing I thought was where the gay stuff for this series was.

Sorry it's such a rough doodle. Working on other stuff at the moment. Just wanted something to bump this thread with. Also, Bane is the best daddy.


Yes! I seen that thread on /co/! Thanks for the great art again Tim. Yes, Bane is the best dad ever.

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Saving this from oblivion again.

Bought the first TPB yesterday. I highly recommend others to do the same, unless you actually like sleeping and not turning restlessly in bed to sultry images of Catman.

To keep the thread alive, here's something from the kink meme:

He's not even wounded, is the fucking thing. Injured, maybe. Slightly distressed, like a pair of jeans. But not fucking wounded.

It's a piece of - shrapnel, he supposes, from the plating of the armoured car they've just blown up, embedded deep in the back of his shoulder. It's not serious, Floyd knows straight off; there's a lot of blood, sure, but it ain't arterial, and all his fingers still move just fine. Blake, he will later be told, thinks he's been shot: in through the back, out through the front, bonus points if you clip both ventricles. He has "a little upset," as Rags puts it. Floyd sees the bodies on the ground and thinks it's maybe an understatement.

After the battle, as soon as he's wrestled his mask off one-handed, Blake pulls him aside. Roughly, by the arm - shoves him down onto a bus-stop bench and starts angrily pulling bits of plating from his back. He isn't gentle, but he's precise, and the process is notably less painful than if Floyd had tried to do it himself. He takes a swig from his hip flask - offers it back over his shoulder to Catman, who doesn't even respond. The bandage, when tied, is too tight for comfort. They don't speak.

He isn't sure what any of this means, and the night is settling around them. There'll be more trouble if they hang around here too long. He shoots a last look at Blake, sitting flagpole-rigid on the bench - clenched hands staining with Floyd's blood - and he turns to walk away.

He makes it a block before he hears Blake's quiet footsteps behind him. He is going to stop, to wait for Blake to catch up, but instead finds himself suddenly, violently shoved down an alley, out of the half-hearted flicker of the streetlights.

Blake is at his back, pushing him forward until the alley brick grit is rubbing his face raw. His hands are somewhere between Floyd's shoulder-blades, scrabbling for some catch or other, and when Floyd reaches back to help he gets an audible snarl and an open-handed swat upside the head. Jesus, says Floyd, into the brick. The force of Blake's determination is rubbing his burst lip against a crack in the wall - the blood smears before his eyes, and he sucks it sour-cherry into his mouth.

Blake gets the catch open. Floyd's neck guard opens at the back, falls to the ground with a too-loud clang.

And Blake's fucking biting him, not nibbling like some inexperienced co-ed nympho but fucking biting, open-jawed, hard enough to draw blood, maybe, definitely. His hips are pressed tight against Floyd's ass, but he can't feel his cock through the armour. And Floyd - Floyd's so fucking hard he can't breathe. He bows his head against the wall and tries not to thrust.

"Bend your damn head," says Blake, all raspy, and when Floyd does, he gives a last lingering squeeze of his jaw before pulling away. For a moment Floyd thinks Blake will mount him from behind, unprepared, in this awful piss-stained dead-end in the rain. But Blake turns him roughly around, and looks at him with a lean, unkind face. He's got a thief's face, Floyd doesn't say.

"You don't fucking die," says Blake, in a low voice, "until I tell you to die."

He sort of wants to laugh. "Catman -"

And Blake's sliding a hand up the side of Floyd's face, tracing the bruised line where his eyepiece rests, curling his hand around Floyd's ear. It's absurdly gentle, considering the situation. Floyd feels slightly off balance.

"Not until I say," says Blake, quieter. He kisses Floyd, frightening in his delicacy. When he pulls back, his mouth is red with Floyd's blood.

"Tom," says Floyd. Catman bares his teeth. He goes for Floyd's throat again, softer this time, under his jaw - Floyd rolls his head and eyes. Blake's fingers find the catch of his belt and slide into his armoured jock, cold from the night against warm skin. He spreads his legs, a little, and Blake's warming hand curves around his cock before reaching up to pull down his tights, just enough. It really is fucking cold out.

But Blake's mouth is warm, velvet soft despite the teeth, and he looks good on his knees. Predatory, like. Not powerless. The leather of his cowl feels worn and old under Floyd's hand. What remains of his cape after the fighting shields them from - well, not much, actually, with the rain coming down and no one on the street. But still. It feels like a wall against the world.

When he's getting close, Tom claws red welts into his thighs, every line in him taut, and he shuts down for a bit.

He has to drag Tom up for a sloppy half-kiss after that, (and really, kiss is too soft a word - he feels like Catman is trying to blaze the inside of his mouth like he blazes everything else -) tasting the salt of blood and sex and black coffee all at once. He pulls Tom against him, one arm around that perfect narrow waist, and jacks him off slow, between their warm bodies. He pushes back the cowl to watch Tom come, face lax with pleasure, long hair curling in the rain. They stand together like that for a moment - leaning in, each half bearing the other's weight.

The night has dropped a thin, creeping mist around them.

"When I say, and only then," says Tom, after amount, his voice heavy. There's an awkward smile hovering about the shape of his jaw, the line of his lip, not quite settled. Floyd reaches up to push it into place.

"Okay, alpha," he says, and Tom grins: feral, soft. Feline.

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Mooooaaaar Catman.


Oh my GOD Tim, that's...ngh.


Oh my fucking God you're fantastic.

I had a dream that someone drew art of Deadshot fucking Ragdoll in all sorts of strange positions. I thought you guys should be aware of my subconscious. I blame Tim most of all.

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Live! Liiiiiive!

HNNNGH. I must read this series now.

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Oh hi, just dropping some doodles into my favorite/pet-thread and stuff.

Don't all go running over yourselves with new content now.

...I'm sorry, that came off as bitchy but yeah BUMP.

Sorry, Tim. I keep posting prompts on the kink meme, but we're getting nothing out here.

I swear, I think it's just you and me.

Re-reading Secret Six now to try and get some plotbunnies...or kitties...plotkitties?

Anyway. Fingers crossed!

I just started reading Secret Six and I'm pretty much going to learn how to draw just so there may be more Catman/Deadshot content.

Saw Gail Simone at WonderCon over the weekend. Got Secret Six signed! And that's plenty reason to bump this thread.

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Well, look what got bumped. After a fruitless search of my own, I just can't resist asking.... Is there no Ragdoll content on the internets?

Polite sage for being a bit off topic.

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OMG, did you see the preview?

Intensely spoilery, obvs, but *wow*

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I think this is about the furthest I can get with Ragdoll. Also, him and Black Alice are kind of psychotically and creepily cute.

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Art by Chazee at Y! Gallery/Blogspot

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Art by Larry Dixon, as a gift for Gail Simone.

No need to spoiler, this is a nsfw board. Thank you for the pictures.


Oh wow, that's awesome! Thanks for posting!

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Gail Simone meeting the Secret Six! ...Except they're dressed as the Birds of Prey.

Work it, Ragdoll.

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Goddammit, I had a dream about Floyd in that getup. A DREAM. FEELS WEIRD MAN.

I think you mean

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Also, dA doesn't have much Secret Six besides >>36135, as predicted. I think it's hilarious that Deadshot's in all the weird fetishy art, though. It's gotta be the pornstache.

it's not long but here's a fic I wrote a while back

Pussy Cat
(Catman - Tom Blake, Deadshot - Floyd Lawton)

When he first reached out to try it had been just a vague curiosity and had nearly gotten him killed. The blades pressed hard enough to his stomach to draw a ribbon of blood had put him off for a while.

He wasn't a cat himself but that hadn't stopped the strong draw of curiosity. He'd come back to try again. And he'd had a knife pressed to his throat that time.

It wasn't until about the seventh time he tried that Catman had allowed it. They'd been working together for only a couple of weeks and it was still during the whole Villain war thing that damned Luthor had started. He'd finally been able to get a hand on the other man's ear and scratched. He'd half expected the purr but it had still startled him.

Blake had pulled away looking angry and embarrassed.

It had been another two weeks before he'd gotten the chance again. Two months before the man had settled down enough to lie next to him and just let him scratch at his ears; he had purred so hard that first time that the whole couch had vibrated with it.

Today Catman was kneeling between his legs, one hand braced against Deadshot's thigh as he stitched the short cut over his hipbone. Large hands held the needle with care and he moved with an almost startling gentleness, like a lion with its cubs. Lawton waited, barely flinching at the draw of metal against his flesh until the job was finished and the sterilised pad taped on. Before Blake could move away he reached out and scratched one bare ear.

He gripped the man between his thigh and felt muscles stiffen as the man drew back a little. But when he turned the scratch into something more of a pat the other villain relaxed against him, purr starting to rumble in his chest.

Pulling him closer, up against his chest Lawton stroked along his back and sides, down to his flanks and up again. Catman slowly settled against him only to startle when his stomach brushed up against something hard. As far as he remembered Deadshot had put down his gun harness before sitting on the edge of the lounge to get his wound treated. A glance to the side confirmed this; the harness with all of it's guns lay in a careless pile on the coffee table.

He smirked slightly and pushed up against the other man, hard, tumbling him back on the ratty cushions. He drove the other man down into the lounge, pressing him in with his body and ground his hips into the others.

Deadshot let out a shout, surprise mixing with shocked lust, and tried to push his friend off. But he failed miserably. One big powerful hand snatched up both his wrists before he could even think of struggling further and the other wound itself tight into his hair.

Blake tugged hard on dark hair until the mercenary’s throat was bared, arching back away from him and completely irresistible. He threw a satisfied thanks to who ever was listening for the other man having changed into civvies first and then bit down, right over Deadshot’s jugular, as hard as he could.
Grinned at the slow swell of blood and held on.

Lawton twisted under him, trying to throw off the other man; the strange feelings of helplessness and panic beginning to rise. The hand in his hair let go, it disappeared for a second only to join the other at his wrists. With a thin cord. He thrashed and struggled under the stronger man but found himself dragged to his feet, then into a bedroom and thrown onto a neatly made bed. When he tried to get to his feet he was knocked back down with a growl.

Catman smirked widely and knelt on the bed over his fellow villain, pinning him to the bed with his knees. He reached over him and grabbed the knife from under the pillow and ignoring Floyd’s cursing and pleading cut the man’s clothes off his body leaving him completely nude.

He lay himself down over the hit man, pressing down with his whole body and licked at the mess of blood on his throat. The noise he made was somewhere in between a purr and a growl.
He leaned back to quickly strip off his own clothes and stretched out to grab something from the bed side table.

Ignoring the man’s increasingly desperate attempts to alternatively reason with him and threaten him, he picked him up and turned him over, grabbed his hips and dragged him to his knees.

“Really Lawton, calm yourself. You did start this after all.” He purred into the man’s ear, nibbled at the lobe of it before proceeding to fuck it with his tongue. The man in his arms choked back a moan and shivered against his chest. “Wont hurt you. Much.”

He slicked up his finger and slid one in, nice and slow. Damn but the man was tight, hot and tight, as he clenched against the invasion. Deadshot let out a shocky sounding grunt and tried again to pull away.

“No you don’t. Patted the cat Deadshot, now I own you, gotta make you mine. Just relax baby, it’ll be easier.” It was spoken in a dark growl pressed against his sweaty throat and another finger was pressed into his ass with the words.

Deadshot shook in the man’s arms. He liked the man sure, liked the purring more than he should have of but he’d never thought it would go this far. He’d never been with a man before and while Catman wasn’t overly rough he was also relentless in this. He was terrified.

Tom felt the man shake in his arms as he twisted his fingers inside of him and stroked his flank gently. He licked at the droplets of sweat beading on the pale skin of the man’s neck and purred deliberately. Felt Deadshot shudder deliciously at the sound before he added the third finger, worked it hard this time and fast before withdrawing his hand and pushing the man down into the mattress.

Deadshot found himself flinching in terror when the mattress shifted behind him and strong hands spread his cheeks wide. This was it.
Catman smirked, took a deep breath and blew across the sensitive skin. He chuckled as the man jumped under him and leaned down to lick a long stripe up the crack of his arse. Laughed out loud when the man squealed. And when he leant down to thrust his tongue in he was already purring. Deadshot thrashed, not to get away this time, but because that purr vibrated through his whole body, setting his nerves on fire.

He found his muscles relaxing against his will and he just lay there, quivering and whimpering and completely stopped fighting.

Catman felt the fight dissolve from the warrior and purred harder, finding himself greatly amused and aroused by the hitching whimpers spilling from the other’s mouth. He slid one hand, still sticky from the lube, around and wrapped it around Lawton’s dick. He rode out the sudden arch and thrust and brought the man off quickly.

He worked fast to slick himself and get into position before driving himself deep into his villain in one fast thrust, seating himself in fully, balls brushing against the soft virgin skin. He could feel Deadshot try to tense but he was too relaxed after having just came only seconds before.

Blake leaned into the man, pulling his hips up towards him until Lawton was kneeling under him, mostly held up by Catman and not himself. He thrust slowly at first but quickly got into a rhythm, fast and hard. He pounded into the tight arse in front of him and stretched slightly so that he could, once again, bite down hard. This time he sank his teeth into the heavy ridge of Deadshot’s spine. The man shuddered under him as he felt himself harden again.

Tom slid a hand around from the hip he had a bruising grip on and wrapped it back around Lawton’s dick again. He stroked once before squeezing, hard.

Deadshot screamed.

Catman grinned and thrust in one final time, coming in a burst of wet heat and an incredible feeling of fullness inside Lawton.
Blake kept both hands on the man possessively as he sprawled bonelessly on top of him. He wasn’t prepared to move yet, in ten minutes or so maybe. But by then he wouldn’t be moving off the man but into him again.

He contemplated whether he should buy a collar tomorrow. The mental image was delicious and he started purring again.

Hope you like


>Reading fic while toasting waffles
>Get to the good stuff
>Waffles pop out of toaster
My life is a cartoon.

Delicious fic, babe. Why can't we have more like this?


The Ragdoll/Black Alice thing going on is also disturbingly cute. I concur.


Ragdoll looks way too much like Ax there. It's making me uncomfortable.

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Bump with silly.

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Bumping with post-coital Catman and Deadshot by Nicola Scott, which I just found on tumblr. Great commission or GREATEST commission?

Is it bad that I JUST NOTICED that Lawton has a porno stache?

I was suprised to learn that Catman was an actual, villain back in the day when I watched FoP. I also liked Adam West doing him.


I. Uh. I. WOW.


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