#rhdrabble*
Note
“hiding your feelings, not wanting to ruin the friendship, even going as far as avoiding each other completely, yet always ending up sharing an intimate moment” with Roy Harper and can lian be involved?
A/N: i knew this prompt was gonna be a struggle to keep as a blurb so i've been avoiding it sorry lol 😩
WC: 1207
Lian clambers onto the couch, a book in tow. She dumps herself in the space between you and Roy, looking between you excitedly. “Story time!” she says, opening it up.
Roy tries to take it from her, but she makes a noise and says, “No! I want them to read.” The book gets shoved into your lap next.
He rolls his eyes, feigning offence. “Alright, pip squeak.”
You share a look over her head that makes you smile.
You start reading, but you’re quickly interrupted by Lian’s hissed, “Daddy, closer!” She yanks on his arm until it’s around her, and now you’re all squished together. His arm hangs awkwardly, brushing against yours.
Eventually, once Lian’s engrossed in the story, Roy moves. His shoulder edges behind yours, and his arm follows, circling your low waist. Immediately, it sends an electric shock through your system, and as you turn the page, your eyes flick to him.
He glances back, expression unreadable but steady. His fingers graze the hem of your shirt; lingering, tempting.
You swallow and break eye contact. You continue to read.
Lian falls asleep not long after, clutching both you and Roy.
He’s the first to speak. “She loves when you come ‘round.” His voice is soft, tired after being on a multi-day excursion.
You don’t look at him and instead stroke her hair with a hum.
“You planning to steal her from me?” he tries again, keeping his tone light. Beneath the surface, he’s thinking far beyond that: Are you sticking around? She wants you to. I want you to. You’re good with her. With me. You’re the best part about coming home. I want you here.
He doesn’t say any of it aloud. Doesn’t want to ruin things.
This time, you can’t help that your eyes go to him. You snort. “Wasn’t on the agenda.”
He gives a small smile. “Feels like it’s gonna happen anyway.”
“Promise I won’t.” You try to match his expression, but it feels more like a grimace. You dismiss it with, “I should go.”
Roy pauses. Taps his foot. Then, tentatively, “You don’t have to.”
You still, too. Maybe you’re thinking about giving into him. He hopes you are.
“You should rest,” you say quietly. “You’re gonna need it for when she’s all over you tomorrow.”
Breath escapes him, disappointed. “Yeah, you’re right.”
➶➶➶
You’re doing everything in your power to avoid being left alone with him. Anytime it looks like someone’s gonna wander off, you’re up first with a flimsy excuse. It makes his heart hurt, like he’s been gut-punched.
He’s clearly made you uncomfortable, and now he’s ruined his relationship with his kid’s favourite babysitter-slash-back-up-guardian-except-he-hasn’t-told-you-that. Lian had chosen you herself, and at the time, he’d been ecstatic to have an excuse to be around you. Now, he carries guilt for wanting so much from you.
At least you address him by name when you leave.
➶➶➶
Sun’s out, so he goes for a walk to soak in some vitamin D for once. Just for long enough that he doesn’t feel as weighed down by life.
Except, as he walks along the path of a nearby park, he hears his name.
“Roy?”
He turns and sees it’s you, laying in summery clothes, floppy hat on your head, book in hand, soaking in the rays. He’s suddenly terrified.
“Oh. Hey.”
“Hey,” you say. You glance around him. “No Lian?”
“Nah,” he says, suddenly wishing she was with him so he doesn’t have to face you alone; doesn’t have to scramble for something to talk about. “She’s at a friends.”
You nod. Your eyes drift elsewhere. “Want a snack?”
He becomes aware of the tupperware that sits on the blanket beside you, filled with fruit and sliced sandwiches. “Uh, nah, it’s cool. Don’t wanna bother you.”
“Roy.” It’s firm, inarguable.
Reluctantly, he follows the command like a robot. He sinks into the blanket, keeping a healthy distance between you.
You push the container towards him, and he slowly selects something, then picks at it. When he eventually puts the sandwich in his mouth, he finds it’s delicious.
“Huh.”
Your brow raises. “Good?”
“Yeah.” He chews some more, swallows, then, “Hey, uh. Ollie said he’d look after Lian next time I’m out.”
Your expression falls. His words ricochet like a slap. “What?”
“I already ask a lot from you, so—”
“I told you it’s okay.”
“Yeah, but…” He trails off. You both look away, confused and hurt.
“Did I say something wrong to her?” you question meekly, fiddling with your book.
“What? No,” he rushes. “You do too much for me. It doesn’t feel fair. I just…” Your eyes are on him, waiting for something more, expecting it to plunge the knife deeper. “I don’t wanna force you to be around me,” he says, voice low.
“Roy…”
“It’s all good. You don’t have to explain yourself,” he says, not looking at you.
Hesitantly, you reach for his hand. He doesn’t move away, although he stares at the connection, bile rising up his throat.
“Seriously…” he croaks, hapless.
You shift closer and he’s drawn to you, jaw turning your way. His eyes are glassy as he looks at you. Your face hovers near his, expression bleeding with honesty.
“What if it doesn’t work out?” you whisper. “We’ll lose each other. I don’t think I could live with that.”
He blinks, thrown. “You want me, too?”
You snort, incredulous and breathless, hand clenching his. “You idiot. You can save the whole damn world but not know when someone’s into you?”
Roy pouts, though some of his concerns alleviate. “You’ve been avoiding me, so…”
You shake your head.
He gathers his courage, bundles it tightly in his fist, and says, “Would you give it a go?” He licks his lips nervously, knuckles brushing your hand. “If I asked?”
Your strength falters. “Are you asking?”
There’s a beat before he commits.
“Yeah, I am.”
You stare at him, considering the offer. He grasps at hope.
“I won’t hold it against you if you wanna pass.”
“Okay,” you murmur, and your nose bumps his. “But Lian’ll choose me in the divorce.”
Finally, Roy laughs. “Believe me, I know.”
➶➶➶
You’re woken when lips graze your temple. You mutter something nonsensical as you come to, the faintest of yellow lights leaking into the room. Roys hangs above you, his mouth curved.
“This isn’t her bed,” he whispers.
You glance at Lian wrapped up in your arms after vehemently insisting she had to sleep in daddy’s bed. “She’s sneaky,” you say, but it’s far from an uncomfortable position. She’d done it as a favour to you both, really.
He leans closer. “Hi,” he breathes coyly, hand coming to rest on your cheek. He tilts your chin towards him.
“Hi, baby,” you say, just as soft, welcoming the press of his lips. You can’t go further than that without disturbing the queen of the house, but neither of you mind. Roy just plants a few more kisses on your face, then he slides in behind you.
He glues himself to your spine, arms winding around you, a searching hand petting Lian for a moment. And as he tucks his nose into your nape, he murmurs, “It’s good to be home.”
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*
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Hello, I'd like to request a little Roy Harper blurb with ❛ it’s hot when you talk back. ❜ I feel like that has him written all over it
“If you’re going to work with us then you need to listen—”
“Give it a break, Grayson!” you cut in. “You asked him for help, or did you forget? You’ve known Roy too long to not know what you get with him.” Your rant doesn’t end there, and you continue with, “He’s always put others first so he sure as shit doesn’t need a lecture from the Bat Prince.”
With that, you grab Roy’s wrist and begin to steer him out of the room. “Don’t call him until you’ve finished sulking!” you say on your way out.
Once you’re in Roy’s truck, you look at him, suspicious of his muteness.
Roy blinks. “Babe—”
“Don’t tell me you think he’s right.”
“I was just gonna say it’s hot as hell when you talk back.”
Your mouth twists with satisfaction. “He wouldn’t much like it if we had sex in front of his house.”
“No,” Roy says, licking his lips hungrily. “He wouldn’t. He’d hate it, in fact.”
You abandon your efforts with your seatbelt to reach for his phone. You navigate to Dick’s contact and say, “Huh, better make sure there’s no accidental butt-dials.”
Roy grins and welcomes you into his lap as he hears the dial tone ring out.
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#roy harper smut#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*
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the biggest, warmest hugs w/ roy but the reader and him r besties but very obviously in love with eachother
i. casual greetings
Roy’s smile starts small, though it grows wide when he can no longer hold it in. You’re much the same as you bound up to him, feet slapping the pavement. The feelings aren’t shameful or excessive when it’s with him. Because it’s him.
The embrace is tangled limbs and giggles and usually some kind of sly rib in greeting. It inspires child-like joviality in both of you. That’s what your time with Roy always is: fun, even when you’re not doing fun things.
Warmth floods your soul. You wouldn’t change it for the world.
ii. car rides
Roy’s arm pulls you closer as the car rumbles along the highway. You’re in the backseat with him while Dick and Donna are up front. They chat amongst themselves, sometimes throwing a stray comment your way.
Roy’s unusually quiet, though. He looks between the outside landscape and you, each time with a soft smile. He squeezes your shoulder.
It feels like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, because the din of your friends won’t be enough to conceal what’s meant to be private thoughts shared only with you.
iii. couch snuggles
It’s been a long, long day, and Roy is exhausted.
He finds you in his living room watching his TV. He doesn’t ask how or why. Maybe you just sensed he needed the comfort.
You look up at him with a twinkle in your eye, stretched out across the couch like a lazy dog. It almost erases his shit mood.
He drops onto the sofa, forcing you to move lest you want to be squashed. You let out a squawking protest that he ignores. Instead, he lays down with you, taking up most of the space.
You grumble in the meantime, chiding him for his poor manners, but it stops when he just says, ‘Hold me.’
You fall silent.
Moments later, your arms wrap around his middle and you hug him tight to your chest. He exhales.
And suddenly, things are okay again.
iv. reunions
These ones always have a running start. You’re propelled by relief, and he tackles you with reassurance.
You can barely breathe with how he holds you, but you have naught a complaint about it. You don’t rag on his sullied clothes and his need for a shower. Just like he doesn’t berate you for worrying yourself out of your mind.
This time, though, when you ease up, your faces remain close. You stare into each other’s eyes, hearts beating far too fast for a reunion with your friend.
Roy’s gaze drops. To your mouth.
He traces the bow curve. He wants to taste it.
He thinks you’ll taste sweeter than any home he’s ever known.
You tug at the locks that stick to his nape, and the realisation comes.
v. undeniable
Nothing special provokes it, for once. Your arms just slide around him one day and your chin juts into his shoulder blade.
For a few beats, Roy remains still, measuring your breaths. He wonders if this is the moment. The one where he professes the feelings that have been pouring out of him for months, worse than any wound. Even though it’s invisible, you’re covered in the muck.
He turns, finally, eyes heavy with overdue honesty.
You’re shy under the intensity. He often looks at you like that, but it’s never been so piercing before. It’s déjà vu; reminds you of that time in the car that feels like aeons ago. Where the bed of this secret was consecrated.
He wants to smile, to soothe you, but he just stares.
Your lips form around the syllables of his name, but soon die a lonely death.
Mercifully, he departs his statuesque state, although it’s just as confusing as he tugs your palm to his chest. Where his heart is. Where it gallops.
‘Do you know?’ he asks, voice hoarse. ‘Do you know,’ he repeats, ‘how I feel about you?’
‘Yes,’ you say. He’s never had to tell you because it’s infused in his every action, every word, every caress and look. You’ve never second guessed it.
The truth is whispered raw with your hand scrunched against his heart: ‘You love me.’
‘I love you,’ he agrees. ‘More every damn day.’
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*
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Hey I was wondering if you could write “Look at you, all smug. It’s not like I jerk off to you at night. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” from one of your prompt lists (i forget exactly which one), with Roy and fem!Reader?
A/N: alt version
C/W: mutual masturbation, thigh-riding, dirty talk
Snatching Roy’s phone results in an… interesting revelation.
His arms are crossed as he huffs and pouts and glares, simultaneously disgruntled and flustered that you’ve found his secret stash.
Well, not so secret anymore.
Your eyes drift back to the screen, a smirk never leaving your face as you peer at the very scandalous discovery. Before you is a hidden folder aptly named ‘Nothing Suspicious,’ and yet, those are your photos. The very ones you text him when you want to rile him up; when he’s been more of a pain in the ass than usual.
Roy makes an annoyed noise again and says, “What’re you so smug for? It’s not like I jerk off to them.”
Your gaze snaps to him. “No?” you say, and it’s barely a question because you don’t believe him.
“No,” he agrees, and then his chin lifts, suddenly defiant. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Why else would you send ‘em my way?”
Your smile is poisonous. “Yeah,” you say, voice confident. “Yeah, I would, so you’re going to show me.”
Your hands find his chest and promptly, he’s forced backwards. Before the backs of his knees hit the nearest chair, your fingers are undoing his belt buckle. He barely notices as it hits the floor because his pants and underwear are next, and then he’s falling into the cushions, already half-hard.
You look down your nose at him. Your instructions are clear albeit sultry: “Show me what you do when it’s just you and those pictures.”
However, before he complies, he yanks you towards him by your hips. You don’t have time to chide him as his hand slips into your underwear, diving into the wet place he wishes his dick was all too often.
When a stuttered breath escapes you, Roy looks pleased for once.
His touch disappears, but with it goes the bottom half of your clothes. And then his slicked up hand is gripping his cock, and he’s finally giving you the show you so desire. It’s one of firm strokes followed with small jolts of his hips and his hung open mouth.
The sight’s going to stick in your memory for a while.
You settle on his burly thigh, legs split, allowing your arousal to coat him.
Roy stops the slow roll of your hips, half-lidded. Once more, his fingers curl inside you, gathering all your wetness to use as lube to fuck his fist, the one he’s pretending is you.
“You’re gonna give me your panties,” he tells you, voice low and uncompromising. “And because of your stunt, I’m gonna fuck them whenever I want, then send you the evidence.”
It might be the hottest goddamn thing to ever have come out of his mouth. You don’t even care when he continues to jerk himself off.
“Go on,” he grunts, eyes flicking to yours, fist full of his leaking self. “Get yourself off since you need it so bad.”
And who could say no to that?
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*#minors do not interact
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Saw you had blurb requests open (yay!), could you write “You look tense..do you want a massage?” with Roy and fem!Reader please?
C/W: female reader/language, cockwarming, "good girl"
Roy flops and twists around on the bed, groaning from time to time. You know he’s asking for attention, although you let him stew a little longer.
It’s when he pulls off his shirt and pants that your eyes lift from your phone. You try to keep your expression neutral as you ask, “Are you okay, baby?”
“Yeah,” he bold-face lies. “I’m good.”
“Okay,” you say, playing along.
Roy lays back down and stretches. After another minute, he lets out a whine. You have to bite your lip to stop from laughing.
“You know, you look a little tense,” you say innocently.
He hides his smile behind his fist. “Do I?”
Your voice is soft and sultry as you say, “Yeah, baby. Think a massage would help?”
Roy hums aloud, pretending to consider it like he hadn’t been aiming for this outcome all along. “Guess it might.”
This time, you have to laugh. You toss your phone aside and tell him to, “Roll over, then.”
He does as you order with a grin. You settle on his hips and get to work, kneading his muscles between your fingers, using your knuckles to dig deeper into them. He groans in satisfaction as you rid his body of knots.
After a while, Roy breaks your rhythm with, “My front could use some lovin’, too.”
You roll your eyes, but nevertheless move onto your knees so he can turn over. Once he does, you continue, making sure to cheekily palpate his pecs. He watches you through droopy lids.
You don’t mention it as you feel his hardness poke you, nor do you acknowledge when his hands grip your thighs and move you back to sit on his crotch. You just keep massaging, admiring his body and ignoring the dampness that grows in your underwear.
Roy’s hips suddenly jolt and you pause. “Something wrong?” you ask as you look up.
“Nah, just—might be more comfortable if I lose these,” he says, nudging his boxers.
“That so?” you return, remaining nonchalant. When he nods, you shrug and shift so you can remove his underwear. He lifts up to help. His dick springs free, though you pay it little mind.
As you clamber back onto his legs, his hands meet your thighs again. And casually, his fingers drag upwards until they hook into your underthings. His thumb rubs the place where you throb for him.
“Come keep me warm, baby,” he invites, voice husky. It’s really fucking tempting. Especially when his thumb moves aside the fabric and dips into your folds. He strokes you slowly, savouring the feel of your slickness. You hold in a mewl.
Roy’s other hand goes to his cock. He wraps his fist around his length and jerks it a few times. “Look, best seat in the house s’all reserved for you,” he says.
“Seems like you can keep yourself warm,” you point out.
His reply is immediate: “Not like you can.”
With a soft, undone exhale, you shuffle so his dick nudges your underwear. He pulls it out of the way and rubs himself against your clit. You let out a restrained whine, and it’s all it takes for you to make a decision.
Your pussy swallows him whole; warm, wet, and welcoming, needing little motivation to take him to the hilt. Roy’s head tips back with a moan.
Your fingers find their way to his muscles again, choosing to finish what he started—because he really does look tense.
However, it doesn’t keep you from languidly rutting against him and grinding your clit on his pubic bone, edging yourself towards your peak.
Roy doesn’t mind handing over the reins; he rests his arms behind his head and watches with a dopey smile. The sight of you still clothed, taking and using him eagerly has him ready to bust any moment now.
“Such a good girl for me,” he praises as your breath quickens.
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*
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#14 from the Meaningful Gestures prompts with Roy Harper? 🤍
Roy’s busy taking care of his bow, but there’s something about how his expression contorts with concentration, how his hands slide gracefully, and his general know-how that have you melting into him.
He ignores you at first, at how you’re draped over his back and shoulders, although he absent-mindedly indulges in the weight of your touch. You don’t say anything either, so he lets you be.
That’s until your mouth starts to wander. First it’s his low nape, then his biceps, and then your lips attach to his throat and he’s withholding a groan.
“Peach,” he musters through gritted teeth.
“Yes, baby?” you murmur as you de-latch, a smile in your voice. Your fingers stroke his hair, untangling his red locks gently.
Suddenly, he decides that maybe being distracted by you isn’t really that big of a problem. So he tilts his head, exposing more pale skin, and jokingly hums, “Proceed, rapscallion.”
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*
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Can you do After coming home from work/a long trip, finding your lover sobbing on the couch/in bed after a hard day, wiping away their tears with soft touches and gentle words--trying to convince them it's okay, and that you're there for them now, with roy harper please?
It’s the sobs you hear first. They started soft and muffled and mostly lost amongst the hum of the refrigerator, but now they rise to a crescendo, no longer contained.
You step into the living room and your eyes are immediately drawn to Roy’s crumpled form. He’s huddled on the floor, hands balled as he tries to stop the tears. It doesn’t work.
You cross the room in large, hurried steps and sink beside him. He tries to push you off, distraught, embarrassed, not wanting to be seen, but you just wrap your arms around him.
You go to hush him, but he begins to babble.
“Lian,” he croaks. Once repeated, you realise it’s a question. “Lian? Lian—Lian—Lian—?”
“She’s okay, baby,” you whisper against his temple, letting him rock against you. “She’s tucked up.”
Roy shudders, his breath escaping loudly. Gently, you cant his jaw upwards so you can see his face. His eyes are red-rimmed, lips puffy. You brush a finger through his matted locks.
“And you?” he asks. “Did anything…?”
“We’re all good,” you confirm, placing a kiss upon his nose. He scrunches it in response, and a tiny smile flitters over your expression.
He swallows, encouraged by it, then rasps, “I was worried.”
Your forehead touches his. “You always are.”
“Are you sure—?”
“Roy,” you say in a low but firm tone, skin skimming his. “Let me worry about you for tonight, okay?”
He lets out a choked laugh, but manages to submit with a hoarse, “O-kay.”
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*
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A needy kiss for attention on the lips/cheek/neck/etc blurb with roy harper please
Days apart have left you both lovesick and needy for attention. Even though you do your best to feign indifference, you both know better. You pretend to focus on what you stir on the stove as Roy continues to pepper you in kisses.
His mouth roves over your nape as he mutters, “You didn’t miss me? Even a little bit?”
“Nope,” you say, fighting a smile. It’s far from the truth considering how your body curves into him, but he lets out an offended hmph anyway.
He pulls down the sleeve of your shirt to deliver more kisses to your delicious, salty skin. “Well, I missed you.” You feel the graze of his teeth as he mouths upwards. “Could do with a ‘glad you made it home’ kiss, you know.”
You hum. “After I finish this.”
It’s enough ammunition for him to flick the spoon from your grasp and twist you around. His hands cup your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. You meet his eyes with a soft laugh.
“You’re bein’ a real sour peach,” he mutters, dipping forward, mouth twitching.
“Mmm,” you say, allowing his lips to touch yours. “You really like those.”
“Huh. Guess I do,” he says, an amused lilt to his tone.
And finally—finally—you melt into each other, surrendering to breathlessness.
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*
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Just spotted you have blurb requests open (if they're no longer open feel free to ignore this) can you write “i’ll kiss you right now to prove i don’t feel anything for you” but the kiss proves the exact opposite with Roy please?
Roy desperately fights a blush as the dare escapes his mouth. He hadn’t really meant to say it aloud… had he?
However, you don’t seem so appalled by the idea. You assess him carefully, eyes tracing his features and freckles before you say, “Fine.”
It moves quickly from there: you lean towards him, hand hooked around his neck and your lips meet. It’s soft despite its exploratory nature. His mouth is doing an excellent job of erasing all else; you can no longer remember what argument inspired this kiss, and you don’t care too much.
But then Roy breaks away, his eyes wide open as they land on you. You stare back. You both swallow.
He wipes his hand over his pants as he waits for any sort of reaction. You don’t give him one, so he settles for, “Huh. Not sure I came to a sound conclusion.” Nervously, he glances your way.
After a beat, your head bobs dazedly and you lick your lips. “Okay,” is all you say before you slope towards him again.
This time, he cups your jaw, pulling you in and in and in like you might have a chance of merging into one. Roy makes the fatal realisation that he really, truly doesn’t want this to end. His feelings for you have come alive; turned into livewires in his chest, dangerously sparking and twirling all over the place.
You pause, face hovering near his. He feels your breath fan over his chin and he wants another taste.
“Anything?” you whisper as his lips brush over yours, never straying far from the thing he suddenly wants most.
“No,” he says.
So why is it, in the next second, you’re climbing onto his lap, thick arms wound around you, whining each other’s names breathlessly?
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#they are indeed open atm#fic*
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hii can you please do “A nervous kiss that might involve a lot of stammering beforehand/flustered reassurances” with roy ??
Neither of you know whether this is a date or just a hang out. You both debate it as Roy’s truck pulls up to your apartment.
He kills the engine, and you still don’t know.
This is the first time you’ve ever intentionally hung out alone, and done more than play pool and drink. There’d been dinner, a movie, a trip to the arcade, ice cream, and then a walk to the damn harbour. A seven-hour rendezvous, all while flirting—you think it was flirting—and playfully touching each other.
Shit, it must’ve been a date, right?
You look at Roy, your smile coy. “That thing about blondes having more fun is totally wrong,” you start.
Roy scoffs, “Puh-lease. Redheads know the best way to live it up.” He purses his lips exaggeratedly. “Kesha wrote that song about me, don’t you know? The party don’t start till I walk in.”
You snort loudly at his stupid lyrical reference. He grins, although it turns shy as neither of you say anything else.
You glance out the window and look back, wanting to rip your hair out at the awkwardness. You try to ease things with, “Thanks for hanging out with me.”
“S’no problem,” Roy’s quick to reply. “We should chill without those broody saps more often.”
You’re taken aback, his words causing your heart rate to leap. “Oh, yeah,” you say. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
You match his smile, then reach for the door handle.
“Sleep tight, peach,” he says with a flick to your elbow.
It makes you pause.
It incites a rash decision.
In a split second, you’re clambering across the seats, and then your mouth is on his. The moment is fleeting, especially because Roy doesn’t respond.
You pull back to see his eyes stretched wide.
“I—shit, I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I thought, maybe—”
You reach up to cover your face, but then the worst happens: you punch him in the nose as he’s suddenly in your near vicinity again.
“Shit, ow,” he whines as he jerks back, hand now prodding his face, checking it’s intact.
You groan, totally, utterly, unbelievably embarrassed. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
When he meets your eyes, you’re ready to scramble from the car, door already flung open.
“Stop,” he orders swiftly. “Sit.”
With a sigh, you settle into defeat and shame.
Nothing happens for a beat, and then he’s tilting your chin up.
“Sorry, Roy,” you mumble, barely looking at him.
“Stay still,” he says, and then he’s cradling your cheeks and in your space again. His face hovers so close.
“Is this okay?” he whispers.
Surprised, you blink, then nod slowly.
He presses his lips to yours, ever so softly. It’s short, but nonetheless you’re left breathless. Your lids flutter before you look into his eyes.
Roy scans your face and apparently he’s satisfied with what he sees, because he leans in again. The kiss is slightly firmer this time, although it remains gentle.
His hand brushes over your cheek as he slopes back. You’re dizzily lost in his elation.
“You had me worried,” he says, breath tickling you. “But I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*
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Hi! For the blurb requests could you do "A spontaneous ‘victory’ kiss where my muse randomly kisses your muse in a crowd of people" with Roy?
It’s the aftermath: you’ve won, but you’re not sure that everyone made it out.
You trudge through rubble and battered bodies until you reach Dick, Donna, and Jason. They look worse for wear. Dick in particular, as you notice how his uniform’s been torn open. You touch his arm and ask if he’s okay.
He nods with a weak smile before his attention lifts. You follow his line of sight and see more of your friends make their way through the settling dust.
The relief disappears like lightning because they’re one red head short.
Your pulse jumps into action—Wally would be proud of its speed.
One by one, they join you. There’s still no sign of Roy. The others grow visibly nervous too, and Jason curses at him through the comms to stop playing.
Two, five, and fifteen minutes pass. He doesn’t show up. The team is tired as shit.
“You guys head out,” Dick announces, ever the gracious leader. “I’ll wait.”
Most of them trundle off gloomily. You refuse to budge because you need to punch that asshole in the face yourself.
And then—your heart drops, dies, and reanimates within milliseconds. Roy limps into view upon the horizon. You waste no time in sprinting towards him.
You both stumble as he barely manages to catch you in his arms. You yank him tight against you and before you can even process the decision, your teeth are clashing as you share your first kiss. It’s hot on the account that you’re a sweaty pair, but it doesn’t deter either of you from deepening the embrace. You fall into each other for what feels like only a fleeting, all-to-short moment.
When you break away, it’s to scold him. “You pea-brained, idiotic screwball—”
He puts a stop to your tirade with a softer kiss. “Save the foreplay for later, babe.”
Roy shoos your fretful “You scared me,” with his doting, insistent mouth.
You ignore the distant hollers and howls and hoots. But only because he’s goddamn alive.
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*
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Heyy, i was wondering if you could write something like roy comforting reader after lian told her something like "you're not even my real mom". Kind of angst but with a fluff ending
Please💕
The moment Lian says it, your face falls into blankness. You swallow the hurt it inspires; the tears that immediately want to well.
You’re not even my real mom!
“I….” You try to say something, but it dies in your throat. Lian doesn’t care as she stamps off. You hear her loud footsteps as she retreats into her room.
She’s tired and cranky, you remind yourself. She doesn’t mean it like that.
Roy slips around the corner with a frown. It’s usually reserved for his naughty child, but he just stares down the hallway for a beat.
Gently, he places his arm around your shoulders. “God, I’m sorry,” he mutters. “She’s really going through it lately. Misses Jade.”
Your voice is low and thick as you say, “I’m not trying to replace her.”
“I know, peach,” he sighs. “She knows it, too.”
You glance at him. “Are you sure?”
Roy smiles wryly. “You know what she says when she’s angry at me?” You shake your head. “She tells me that she loves you more than me.”
Your teeth sink into your lip to stop from laughing. “Oh.”
“Kids,” he shrugs, then kisses your temple. “I’ll talk to her though, okay? Make sure she understands how it makes you feel.”
You nod with a soft smile. “Yes, daddy,” you mimic.
Roy groans. “Don’t you start.”
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*
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Roy harper, kissing someone’s cuts/bruises/scratches blurb, please!
A/N: Potentially muchhhhh more angsty than you wanted, but here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (i got quite a few fluff requests)
Roy has never wished for supernatural abilities more than he does in that moment.
As ash and soot scatter from the ceiling, he’s left to watch you suffer.
The building had come down after the team was too slow to defuse a bomb. He’s just lucky the two of you weren’t close to the blast. He’s only heard the radio chatter of some of his friends at this point, so he doesn’t know if they’ve lost anyone. Doesn’t know the civilian casualty count.
He should try and fix things. But he can’t, because you’re stuck, bloodied with a pipe through your gut and a slash to your head. Your chest rattles, and he’s unsure whether it’s from pain or fighting unconsciousness, but he’d prefer one over the other.
So he holds you, kisses your forehead, wipes the muck from your eyes, and keeps pressure on your wounds. He wants to be the one left injured instead of you—because somehow he’s miraculously fine aside from a bump on the head—but he won’t say that out loud. He has to keep hope alive for you. Or there’ll be little else left for him.
“Roy,” you whisper above the creaks and groans of unstable rubble.
“Yeah, babe?” he asks, tightening his grip out of fear.
“Do you think they’ll find us in time?”
He sucks in a breath; counts to ten before he can answer. Voice steady enough, he says, “The only place your ass is going is vacation.”
You try to laugh, but it sounds unearthly, lost to your rickety breaths.
Ever so softly, he turns your jaw and kisses you. It’s a gentle promise. You smile weakly.
You fall into the crook of his neck, knowing that no matter the outcome, you won’t be alone for it.
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*
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C/W: oral (m receiving), roleplay, no reader pronouns specified
“Oh, shit,” you say as you peel away from the sticky wall. “It’s you. Arsenal.”
The costumed man pauses mid-stroll, chin tilting upwards to acknowledge you. “Yup,” he grins cockily. “In the flesh.”
You take a couple of steps to meet him. “Big fan of your work.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Everyone’s into those freaks who use their fists or guns.” You look him up and down, admiring his physique, a smile playing on your face. His arms are a particularly sore sight. “But I think the arrows are much sexier.”
His head tips with a coy smile, eyes bright. “That so?”
“Mhm.” The distance diminishes as you close in like a predator. It’s an interesting change of pace for someone who usually has the upperhand. Wickedly, your fingers tiptoe up his chest until you flick his cap. “I like your hat,” you murmur, gaze firmly on him.
Arsenal rubs at his neck, unsure where this is going. “Got a whole collection of ‘em.”
“Really? You should show me some time.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be smart, would it?”
“No,” you agree with another smile, still toying with his uniform. “But surely an exception could be made?”
Somehow, you manage to side-step him and trade places, so now his back faces the wall.
He crosses his arms, wondering if this is going to end poorly for him. “You shouldn’t be out so late, you know.”
Ignoring him, you ask, “Does anyone ever thank you?”
“Uh, sometimes—”
“I think I’d be failing my civic duty if I didn’t.”
At once, your chest is pressed up against him. Your eyes don’t stray as you lean in. He grabs your forearms, but it doesn’t stop you from tugging at his locks.
He evades your lips just barely, cheeks hot. “Hey, that’s uh, not necessary…”
“What? You’ve never wanted to do it in the suit?” you tease, palm rocking his shoulder inwards, trying to rouse his illicit desires. “Or is there someone waiting for you at home?”
He gulps, eyes darting across the street. “It’s unethical.”
“Only if you force me.” Soft and seductive, you kiss his exposed jaw—once, twice, and a third time, until your lips almost touch. Your fingertips graze his throat and stubble, making him shiver. Breathily, you ask, “Are you forcing me, Mister Arsenal?”
“...No.”
He doesn’t object to the next kiss and it sends a lightning strike to your core. Your palms drag over his body in encouragement, wanting nothing more than to be man-handled by the vigilante. He gives you what you want as his mouth parts to accept your probing tongue, one hand on your neck while the other holds your waist. You keen against him, causing his fingers to dig in. You half hope it bruises so you know you’re claimed. It’s the closest you’ll get to Heaven in Gotham.
Your hand drops to palm his crotch. Arsenal lets out a soft sound, his hands following yours as you sink to your knees. There’s something so uncontrollably sexy about unbuckling his belt together—it makes you moan against his leg. He watches you, mouth opened into a delicious, wanton pout.
“You sure about this?” Arsenal asks. You nod. But it’s not enough for him, and he holds your chin so you can’t move yet. “Say it.”
Your lips skim his wrist. “Yes, I’m sure.”
He lets you go; allows you to pull down his tight tactical pants and underwear just enough so he’s set loose. He doesn’t have time to think of the potential audience since you don’t hesitate to sink forward. Your palms slide up his stomach, relishing in his toned abdomen. His head hits the wall with a sharp intake of breath.
His fingers twists into your roots, helping you glide over him as gentle as he can without resorting to face-fucking. Still, drool spills from your mouth and coats his ride perfectly. The sound is loud and filthy and just that alone makes him a mess of groans. The wet heat of your mouth combined with the exhibitionism has every muscle in his lower limbs clenching.
“Baby, I’m gonna—”
You take him as deep as you can and swallow all that he has to give.
His chest heaves as he tries to regain a sensible breathing rhythm. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and straightens his cap. You tuck him back inside his clothes and re-do his belt.
“Holy shit. I can’t believe you just sucked me off in an alleyway.”
You shrug, wipe the spit and cum from your face. “I can’t believe you let me.”
He looks at you, half crazed, as he pulls you to do your feet. “God, peach, that was—” He doesn’t finish his own sentence as he kisses you hotly, devouring the taste of salt and lust. You sling your arms around his neck.
“Thanks for your service, baby,” you tease.
He grins as he nuzzles into your cheek. “So, you really wanna see my cap collection?”
“God damn it, Roy, I swear if you’ve brought anymore home—”
#roy harper#roy harper x reader#roy harper imagine#batfam#arrowfam#arsenal x reader#rhfic*#rhdrabble*#fic*
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Okay I’m back 😂 “ you're so damn attractive, you know that right? “ Roy and female reader. You’re doing gods work fr 🙏🏽
A/N: ♥♥ ty for the roy request, you're the real savior
C/W: Suggestive content
You sit in Roy’s lap, back to the world as you fuss with his hair. His eyes move between you and the screen as he tries to play a game while he gives you attention. You hear the shouts of his team members in his ear. Even distracted, it doesn't deter you from loving on him.
Your hands brush through his ginger locks again before you trail downwards. The pads of your fingers trace the constellation of freckles upon his cheeks. He shivers a little at the sensation. Pleased, you begin to pepper kisses along his jawline and up to his ear.
Once there, your tongue makes an appearance and swipes at his skin. Roy jolts in surprise.
He fixes you with a look of feigned authority. “Thought you said you’d be good for me?”
Your response is to pout. His eyes drop. With a sigh, he pulls you towards him by your chin. You relent into a smile as he kisses you. Greedily, you try to deepen it, although he cuts it short. Left unsatisfied, you whine as he returns to his game.
You’re not sure what it is about distracting a man from their business that’s so rousing, but hey, it’s far from being the worst thing you could get your rocks off too.
Your fingers creep over his body, feeling his muscles as you make your way back to his face. Once there, you tilt his neck sideways so you can drag your teeth over his skin. You feel his hips shift beneath you.
That’s all the encouragement you need to kiss upwards until you reach his headset. You knock it off.
“Babe—”
“You’re so damn sexy, you know that?” you murmur into his ear, breath hot, ticklish, and seductive.
Roy runs a hand over his scalp, and then, “Damn it.” He tugs the mic back into place so he can say, “Going AFK. My gorgeous wife’s got my dick hard as fuck.”
An array of, “Jesus, dude!” and, “TMI,” filter back through the headset, although they’re met with an empty room.
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For the blurb request, maybe you could do this one from the sexual tension prompts “You look angry. How about you take all that energy and put it to good use?”, with Roy harper, pleaseeee?
C/W: Suggestive speech
Roy lets out a whistle as your fist sends the punching bag flying towards the ceiling. Rarely does he see you release such wrath into the world. It hangs in the air and seeps into his pores like a grimy oil slick. He figures you’ve had a bad day—maybe encountered one of the bat brats.
You glare at him over your shoulder before he’s even uttered another syllable. “Go away.”
“What’s got you riled up, peach?” he asks as he slinks closer. You immediately swat the hand that comes for your shoulder.
“Not in the mood, Roy,” you say and turn back to the weighted bag.
He plays along. “Huh. Here I was thinking you were all sunshine and rainbows.”
Your only response is a scoff as your swinging fists go another round.
Roy chooses a more direct approach. His arms wrap around your waist and he noses into your neck. Once there, he holds you firm enough to dot kisses down your throat. Your skin is salty and hot and rousing. You jostle against him with a strangled noise.
Right by your ear, he murmurs, “You know, peach, you could take all that energy and put it towards a better cause.”
“Fuck you.”
Roy laughs lightly. “Yeah. That’s what I just put on the table.”
You’re quiet for a few moments as you reflexively savour the feel of his muscled arms around you. Your tongue drags over your dry lips. Eventually, in an impassive tone, you query, “And what would the doctor suggest?”
He hums like he needs to think it over. But really, he already has the perfect plan. “A dose of riding me should do the trick.” You snort. His smile brushes your ear. “What do you say? Should I write you a prescription?”
This time, you struggle to hide your amusement. The good old-timey cure for hysteria.
You sigh melodramatically. “Well, the doctor knows best.”
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