Any/all! ~ 20! ~ Omniromantic/sexual ~ Writer for all readers ~
Founder of the Takuma Troops! ~ THE NUMBER #1 INO TAKUMA BADDIE!! IM HIS MOTHERFUCKING WIFE
Hello!! Welcome to the inotaku-talkz blog. I am Aazix.
basic info:
I am 21 and I’m genderfluid, so I don’t care about what pronouns you what to use, you can use whatever!
I am also a beginner writer so please, my writing may suck for now but trust it will get better.
fandoms I am writing for:
Squid Game
Jujutsu Kaisen (except for Meimei and Mahito)
Mouthwashing (except Jimmy, platonic for Swansea)
DC Comics
(more will be added, these are the three I’m most comfortable writing for it the most)
request rules:
I will not write pedophilia, incest, cannibalism, or anything else of the sort.
Please make it specific on what kind of reader you are requesting for. If you don’t, then by default the reader is your request will be made fem aligned.
Also, writing is a hobby of mine, not a job that I get paid for. If you are waiting on a request to get done, don’t hound me for it. If you do, I’ll stop writing it and move on to the next.
Blinkies by @getos-wifey
Looking for more Ino Takuma Content? Join the Takuma Troops!
My requests are currently open!
The Aazix Masterlist
Grunge and Emo! Masterlist
Mission Impossible: Operation Tame Yuuji Itadori! Masterlist
Overall Warning: Cheating, Angst, Argument, Unplanned Pregnancy, Single Parent, Eventual Happy Ending, Emotional damages, Probably OOC description of children idk man i don't know any of them, Second Chances, Fluff
Chapter Word Count: 1,257
Chapter: 6/11
Reader is Female.
Masterlist
Author's Note: I wrote this before my frontal correct was developed lmao. Anyways, I hope you enjoy my work! :) Please reblog. Also, thank you to my beta! You're the best! <3
Summary: A knock on your door destroys your life. A few years later there's another knock on your door, but this time it's not as awful.
Roy visited as often as he could, your son absolutely loved every minute of his visits. They both got closer as the visits went on. But so did you and Roy. You had many conversations about why you didn’t tell him about Arlo, how your lives had been in the years since your breakup, your favorite memories of your kids, how to best handle the situation going forward, and many, many other things. You also text and call each other. A subconscious smile would form on both your faces when you saw the other’s name pop up on your respective screens. One too many late night conversations were starting to happen. You were both starting to trickle back into each other’s lives. After you thought that your son was more situated with the situation, you decided that it was a good time to sit him down to tell him about Lian.
“Arlo, I want to talk to you about something important,” you said, finishing up your dinner.
“Okay,” he replied, looking at you inquisitively.
“Well, this might be confusing to you, but you’ll understand more of it when you’re a little bit older,” you started gently. Your son looked at you with mild confusion. “You know how your friend has two older half siblings, right? His older sisters have a different dad than him, but they all have the same mom.”
“Yeah, they gave me stickers when I went over to their house to see his pet lizard!” You couldn’t help but smile at him.
“Well, you also have an older half sister,” you watched your son anxiously. You didn’t know how he would take the news that Roy had another kid. He didn’t say anything. You continued, “you both have the same dad but different moms. She’s only a few months older than you, though. Her name’s Lian. And she would really like to meet you. But only if you want to.” His gaze turned to the table, taking in the news.
“I have an older sister,” he stated. You could tell he was a bit upset.
“Yeah,” you took his hand into yours but he pulled away.
“Why didn’t you tell me,” he demanded.
“I didn’t really know,” you half-lied. You didn’t know what happened to Roy or his baby after you moved. Frankly, you didn’t want to know, especially at that time.
“Is that why dad didn’t want me,” he looked away and was starting to sniffle, “because he had another kid.” You knew he was about to cry.
“No, honey,” you got down to his eye level, he was crying. “What makes you think he didn’t want you? Of course he wanted you! Roy just didn’t know about you, honey, because I never told him. We had a really bad breakup and I moved away. Then I found out that I was going to have a baby, that I was going to have you.” You took his little hands into yours again, grazing your thumbs against his knuckles in a comforting manner. “I decided not to tell him about you. But as soon as he found out, he came to see you. He was really mad at me because I didn’t tell him. You remember the day he first came over?” You son softly nodded yes, tears still in his eyes that refused to look up from the floor. “Yeah, he was really, really upset with me that I didn’t tell him about you. He always wanted you, honey.” You pulled him into a hug. “I can promise you that he always wanted you. Don’t you ever say anything like that again.” You pulled out of the hug and gently wiped the tears that had fallen down his cheeks. You weren’t going to bring up Lian again for now. You needed to talk to Roy, and that too, urgently.
As soon as your son went to sleep that night, you called Roy. You didn’t want your son to feel like he wasn’t wanted by his own father. You were going to fix this for your son’s sake, for Roy’s sake, and even for Lian’s sake.
Ring Ring Ring Ring
“Hi,” a small girl’s voice said on the other side.
“Hi,” you replied, a bit nervously.
“Do you wanna talk to my Dad?”
“Yeah, I would like to.”
“He’s busy right now,” she said and then whispered, “he’s in the bathroom.” You chucked at how adorable she sounded. “But, I can take a message for him and he’ll call you back,” she said rather matter of factly. It made you chuckle again.
“Oh, no, that’s fine. I can call back later.”
“What’s your name?”
“Uh, Y/N,” you hesitated. You weren’t really sure what Roy had told her. “What’s your name?”
“My name’s Lian.”
“That’s a really pretty name.” Lian smiled at your compliment.
“Thank you, I like your name too.”
“Lian, who are you talking to and why aren’t you in bed,” you heard Roy ask in the background.
“I’m talking to Y/N,” she stated matter of factly again. “She said I have a pretty name.”
“Y/N,” Roy asked puzzled, “give me the phone.”
“No.”
“Lian.”
“No, I wanna say goodnight.”
“Okay, say goodnight and then straight to bed.”
“Goodnight, Y/N,” Lian said into the phone
“Goodnight, Lian,” you replied back. She finally handed Roy the phone and you heard them exchange goodnights and sweet dreams.
“Hey, sorry about that,” Roy replied after watching his daughter get into bed and making his way out of her room.
“It’s fine. She’s adorable.”
“You have no idea,” he chuckled. He glanced at the clock in the hallway as he closed the door behind him. “Is everything okay? You’re calling pretty late.”
“Uh, no. Not really. Do you have time to talk? I can call back later, if you’re busy.”
“No, no. It’s fine. What’s up?”
“So, I, um, I tried to talk to Arlo about Lian today.” Nervousness laced your words, which Roy picked up on immediately.
“How did it go?”
“Not great,” you sighed. “He thinks you didn’t want him.” Roy stopped dead in his tracks.
“What do you mean? What did he say exactly?” A million thoughts and emotions ran through his mind. Why would his son say that? Why would he even think that?
You explained to him what had happened, how the conversation had gone. To say that Roy was hurt was an understatement. He wanted to come to see his son right now; to reassure him that he wanted him. To tell him that he was lucky to have him as a son. To hug him and tell him that he loves him.
“I think you should come see him as soon as you get a chance. I don’t want to ask him about seeing Lian again until you have a chance to talk to him.”
“I’ll be there Thursday.” These next few days are going to be long, he thought.
“Okay, that sounds good. I guess I’ll see you then.”
“Yeah,” his voice was a little shaky, you could tell that he was worried.
“Roy, it’s going to be okay,” you reassure him. “We can handle this.” He smiled softly as your words.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“No problem. I have to be up early tomorrow, so I gotta go.”
“Yeah, okay. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight”
“I love you.” He said those words out of habit, like he used to.
“Thanks, you too.” You muttered back automatically, not even registering completely what he had said before hanging up the phone.
Overall Warning: Cheating, Angst, Argument, Unplanned Pregnancy, Single Parent, Eventual Happy Ending, Emotional damages, Probably OOC description of children idk man i don't know any of them, Second Chances, Fluff
Chapter Word Count: 796
Chapter: 5/11
Reader is Female.
Masterlist
Author's Note: Short chapter, rest are longer. I hope you enjoy my work! :) Please reblog. Also, thank you to my beta! You're the best! <3
Summary: A knock on your door destroys your life. A few years later there's another knock on your door, but this time it's not as awful.
Your son had a million questions to ask Roy. A million things to tell him. A million things to show him. Peanut Butter also wanted the new guests' attention. Within the span of a few hours, they had worn themselves out and Roy, too. You knew that a long conversation was on its way to decide what was next and what was best for everyone involved.
“Will you come back?” Your son asked Roy, as you tucked him into bed.
“Of course, I will,” Roy replied.
“Promise?”
“Pinkie promise,” Roy said, holding out his pinkie, which the boy happily interlocked in a promise.
“When will you come back,” your son yawned. Roy looked at you.
“He’ll be back soon, honey,” you said, placing a kiss on your son’s forehead. “But, now, it’s way past your bedtime, and you need to get some sleep.” Your son nodded.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” You and Roy chimed in unison, stepping out of the boy’s room.
You made your way down the stairs and into the living room.
“He’s so energetic, funny too. He’s a great kid, you’ve done a great job,” Roy said, plopping down on the sofa. “Oh, and Peanut Butter! Cutest dog in the world.”
“Yeah, they’re great,” you said, picking up discarded toys, tired and not really ready for wherever this conversion was going.
“I have a daughter,” Roy said, studying you, gauging for a reaction. You just continued what you were doing.
“That’s great. Older or younger than him?”
“Older by three-ish months. Her name’s Lian.”
“Pretty name.” Your answers were half-hearted, you weren’t really interested in his life or his family. After a while, a comfortable silence had settled in.
“She left her,” Roy murmured, fidgeting with his hands.
You looked up at him in confusion, “Who left who?”
“Her mother. Lian’s mom left her, us, when she was still a baby,” he looked up at you, meeting your gaze. “I tried to make it work with Jade. I gave it my all. But she left. Lian’s all I got and I’m all she’s got.” You didn’t really know what to say. He just smiled reassuringly at you. “I’ve managed pretty well. But, it’s hard sometimes, you know?”
“Yeah.” You definitely knew; raising a kid on your own wasn't an easy feat.
“I wanna be a part of Arlo’s life. I’ll do it on your terms, if that’s what it takes. But I wanna be there for him.”
“Look, I’m not gonna stop you from seeing him, but I want to take it slow. He’s still just a kid and this is a lot to take in. For now I think it would be better if you came to visit when I’m home. After a while, when he gets more comfortable and used to being around you, you can visit him whenever you like, regardless of if I’m there or not.”
“That sounds good to me,” he shrugged.
“Also, I have a bunch of videos of his big milestones and stuff. Would you like them?”
“Yes, I would love those,” Roy stated, before continuing a bit uncertainly, he didn’t want to push this situation too far. “Uh, I would eventually like him to meet Lian. She doesn’t know yet, but she’ll be so excited when she finds out she has a little brother.”
You shifted around uncomfortably, “I’ll talk to him about her. And if he agrees, then I’ll have no problem with them meeting.”
Roy smiled at you, “Thank you.”
You nodded at him in acknowledgement. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from the nearby table, you asked him for his number. He awkwardly recited the digits and you quickly wrote them down, the whole interaction a bit jarring. This is how strangers interact. Which, you suppose, you two technically are, but you and Roy have history, it’s weird to act like you don’t know each other.
Looking at the clock on your wall, you stated, “It’s getting late. I think you should go.”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he muttered looking at the time and getting up from the sofa. You walk him to the door. “It was nice seeing you,” he said, stepping out into the cool night. He wanted to tell you that he missed you. He wanted to ask you if you missed him too. If some part of you still loved him, longed for him even, like he does. But he knew to keep his mouth shut.
“Yeah, you too,” you awkwardly smiled back at him.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” You watched him as he walked into the night. Being near him again reminded you how much you missed him over the years, and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you hated him, you didn’t. You never could.
Overall Warning: Cheating, Angst, Argument, Unplanned Pregnancy, Single Parent, Eventual Happy Ending, Emotional damages, Probably OOC description of children idk man i don't know any of them, Second Chances, Fluff
Chapter Word Count: 714
Chapter: 3/11
Reader is Female.
Masterlist
Author's Note: I hope you enjoy my work! :) Please reblog. Also, thank you to my beta! You're the best! <3
Summary: A knock on your door destroys your life. A few years later there's another knock on your door, but this time it's not as awful.
Six years go by and you’ve created a wonderful little world of your own with your son. You recorded every big moment of your son's life: first steps, first words, birthdays, etc.. You cried the first day he started school, even though he was very brave about it and came home with a huge grin and a few new friends. One day, you knew Roy would find out, so you captured all the moments you could.
Your son looked just like a little mini version of Roy, he even laughed just like him. He’s your entire world, your life revolves around running after him to put on his pants, getting him to eat, or go to bed. He asks about his dad sometimes and you tell him about Roy, that his father is a good man, and that he looks exactly like him. He loved hearing the little stories about Roy you would tell him. Your life just continued normally with love, laughter, and never ending mischief on your son’s part.
Roy blinked several times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating what he was seeing. You were walking out of the grocery store in some city he was in for a mission, with a little boy sitting in the shopping cart that had ginger hair and looked so much like him. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He never expected to see you, let alone with—from the looks of it—his child.
Jason suddenly leaned close and pointed at the scene in front of them. “Uh, dude? Either I’m seeing things or that looks like your ex with a child that looks freakishly like you.”
Kori leaned forward from her seat as well, looking towards what Jason was pointing at. She saw you putting groceries in your car, laughing at something, while your son was eating a lollipop and talking to you. “I am going to have to agree with Jason,” she said, observing what was going on. The three of them continue to watch from their car. You put the groceries away and help your son out of the shopping cart before returning it, totally unaware of the three sets of eyes watching your every move.
In the next few days Roy tried to find out everything he possibly could about you and your son. Just from looking at the boy anyone could tell that he was his child, but he didn’t want to assume anything, there was a possibility that the kid was someone else’s, that the boy was adopted, or that you were simply babysitting. A kid that just happened to look exactly like him. He now knew where you lived, all he had to do was walk up, ring the doorbell, and get all the answers he so desperately needed.
“You want me to accidentally run into her and be like ‘Geez, Y/N, that kid looks awfully like Roy Harper, your ex-fiancé?’ Or we could get a strand of the kid’s hair and do a DNA test and then show up at her house to demand custody or something,” Jason only half joked. “Or you could show up at the park with Lian and be like ‘long time no see, is that my kid?’ Come on, dude, you gotta find out! It’s clearly bothering you.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Roy muttered in response, not bothering to look up. He felt hurt that you didn’t tell him. He knew what happened between you two was rough, but he didn’t think that you would have his child and not tell him. A child he planned on having and raising with you one day. He was angry at himself too. But he loved Lian more than anything else in the world and the possibility of her having a brother made him feel warm. He didn’t even know how to approach the situation. It was complicated and messy. He had gotten two women pregnant and had two kids, one he was raising by himself and another he didn’t even know existed until a few days ago. He was just going to have to bite the bullet and come see you. The longer he delayed this the more it would bother him.
So it was final, he was going to come see you and get answers.
Chapter Specific Warning: Unplanned Pregnancy, Covert Pregnancy
Overall Warning: Cheating, Angst, Argument, Unplanned Pregnancy, Single Parent, Eventual Happy Ending, Emotional damages, Probably OOC description of children idk man i don't know any of them, Second Chances, Fluff
Chapter Word Count: 713
Chapter: 2/11
Reader is Female.
Masterlist
Author's Note: DO NOT HAVE KIDS IF YOU CANT AFFORD TO GIVE THEM A GOOD LIFE. USE CONDOMS, BIRTH CONTROL, PLAN B TO PREVENT IT OR HAVE AN ABORTION IF NECESSARY. Kids are not accessories, toys, or status symbols; they are people with emotions and feelings. Anyways, I hope you enjoy my work! :) Please reblog. Also, thank you to my beta! You're the best! <3
Summary: A knock on your door destroys your life. A few years later there's another knock on your door, but this time it's not as awful.
A few weeks go by since your life fell apart. You started to rebuild some semblance of a life, but you couldn’t stand going back to the apartment, and everywhere you turned it felt like old memories of what you used to have would haunt you. You needed to start afresh. So you moved to a new city, got a new job, a new apartment—a fresh start. Far away from your old life, but more, importantly, far away from him. Time and change would heal your wounds eventually.
With moving and starting anew, you were stressed and still recovering from what had happened. It also wasn’t helping that you constantly felt like shit, physically. You felt more tired than normal. Your periods were also lighter than usual, but you chalk that up to stress. You didn’t have any morning sickness or anything stereotypically pregnancy related, so you didn’t connect the dots right away. That was until your family/friends forced you to go to the doctor.
“The reason you’re feeling sick, Miss, is because you are 17 weeks pregnant,” the doctor said. You blinked at the doctor dumbfoundedly.
“But I still get my periods and I don’t feel any different than usual, just a little tired. I don’t feel nauseous and I haven’t gained any weight.” You were in a state of mild panic.
“Were your periods lighter than usual?”
“Yes.”
“Ahh, that would be intermittent spotting, which is lighter than normal blood flow. And can easily be mistaken for a regular menstrual cycle. Some people don’t exhibit any stereotypical symptoms of pregnancy. Symptoms will vary from person to person and from pregnancy to pregnancy. Lots of people never experience the symptoms that we commonly believe are telltale signs that someone is pregnant. Most people don’t start showing a baby bump until they are between 16 and 20 weeks along, while some show much earlier.” You stared at the doctor, still trying to process what they said. “For now, we are going to send you to an OBGYN and get some more tests done to see if the baby is healthy.”
You didn’t know what to do, everything just got so much more complicated. You always wanted to have kids, especially with Roy, you knew he would be a great father. You two had decided that it was going to happen further down the road. But not yet, not so soon, and definitely not like this. You didn’t know what to do, do you tell him? Do you keep the baby? Do you raise it alone? A billion things ran through your mind as you made your way out of the doctor’s office.
After much deliberation, you decided to keep the baby. Maybe this was your only chance at motherhood, you reasoned. You were financially capable of caring for a child and you had a good support system to help you out. Your friends/family were so excited for you and the baby. But the decision that weighed on your mind the most was whether or not to tell Roy that you too were pregnant with his child.
He already had another child on the way, with another woman. And you knew him well enough to know that he would step up and raise that child. But could you look him in the eyes and not be reminded of what he did to you? Did you want your child to grow up around a cheater? The fact that he was a vigilante was also starting to add weight to your decision. Will your child be safe? What if someone decides to hurt them to get to Roy? Do you want your child to witness Roy coming home bleeding and bruised, time and time again? What if Roy gets killed? Will your child even grow up with a father? What if he relapses? What if he abandons one child for another? One “what if?” after another, hypothetical scenarios, and questions plagued your mind. Eventually, you decided that you wouldn’t tell him, that you would raise this child by yourself, safe from Roy Harper and his world.
The rest of your pregnancy went smoothly and at 40 weeks and 5 days, you gave birth to a little baby boy with ginger hair and your eyes.
Chapter Specific Warning: Cheating, Angst, Argument
Overall Warning: Cheating, Angst, Argument, Unplanned Pregnancy, Single Parent, Eventual Happy Ending, Emotional damages, Probably OOC description of children idk man i don't know any of them, Second Chances, Fluff
Chapter Word Count: 1,420
Chapter: 1/11
Reader is Female.
Masterlist
Author's Note: Hi!! So I wrote this during the pandemie and before women started having their rights taken away in this shithole of a country. But I'm finally getting around to posting this! This is kinda trop ngl… And I've since lost interest in DC. Anyways, I hope you enjoy my work! :) Please reblog. Also, thank you to my beta! You're the best! <3
Summary: A knock on your door destroys your life. A few years later there's another knock on your door, but this time it's not as awful.
You stood in the doorway paralyzed, not processing a word that the woman in front of you had said. You didn’t expect a knock on the door to obliterate your life like this, but it did. You stood blinking and gaping at the woman.
“I’m looking for Roy Harper. I’m pregnant with his child.”
Those words echoing in your ears.
“Could you, please, tell him to get in contact with me as soon as you can?”
“Uhh, yeah—I, um, I will.” You managed to say. He was gone on a mission and wouldn’t be back for a few more days.
“Thank you,” the woman in front of you said, she turned to leave but stopped with a small smile. “I’m Jade by the way.” You just stared at her for a few seconds.
You told her your name and she smiled back at you knowingly before leaving. She knew who you were; everyone knew who you were, you were Roy’s fiancé. You watched her leave and just stood in the doorway for what felt like an eternity. The rest of the day went by in a daze. The words echoing in your ears constantly like tinnitus. Pregnant with his child. Roy Harper.
The next day you broke, you laid in bed crying all day, thinking that this couldn’t be happening to you, wishing that this was just a bad dream. But it wasn’t, the constant suffocating weight of the engagement ring on your left hand reminding you that this was, in fact, reality. You removed it with anger and force and tossed it across the room, not bothering to see where it landed.
Over the next few days, you tried your best to process what had happened. You tried your best to go about your normal life. Trying to reason that it was probably a case of mistaken identity, a shapeshifter, or someone who had it out for Roy. You tried so hard to reason but there was that voice inside your head that kept nagging, telling you that it was probably true, he did cheat on you. To say you were going through hell was an understatement.
“I’M HOME, BABE!” His voice yelled with excitement as he came through the door. “I missed you sooo much,” he continued, dropping his stuff sporadically on the ground as he made his way through the apartment looking for you.
You just continued to wash the dishes in the kitchen, preparing yourself mentally for how to best approach this situation.
“Hi,” he said, coming up from behind, putting his arms around your waist, and laying a few kisses on your shoulder. He started to work his way towards your neck laying soft kisses on your skin, you stiffened in response.
You still hadn’t said anything to him, simply continuing with the dishes in front of you.
He lifted his head in confusion. “Sweetheart?”
You didn’t even know what to say. What could you say? Did you cheat on me and conceive a child with another woman? You didn’t want to accuse him of cheating, you didn’t have any proof, just the words of a woman you didn’t know. You took a deep breath and stopped washing the dishes. The first thing Roy noticed as you turned around was that your engagement ring was not on your finger.
“Hi,” your voice came out a little shaky as you tried to put some physical distance between you two. He noticed this too, you had never tried to do that before. Jade flashes through his mind, she knows he thought, followed by: no, she couldn’t, how could she? Unless…
“We need to talk about something and I want you to please tell me the truth,” you stated with nervousness. This wasn’t easy to do. A part of you begged you not to ask and just live in ignorant bliss with the man you so deeply and devotionally love. But beyond you and him was an unborn child involved in this situation. Even if the child wasn’t his but he did sleep with her, were you really going to marry, let alone be with a man who didn’t respect you enough to not cheat on you.
Roy nodded in response. Fuck she knows, she knows.
You took another deep breath, to prepare yourself for whatever was going to happen next. “A few days ago, a woman came by looking for you.” His heart sank, he knew where this was going. “She was looking for you because she’s pregnant and the baby’s yours. I asked her if she was sure that it was yours and she said she was and that it couldn’t be anyone else’s.” The shift in his body language and the look on his face told you everything you needed to know. It was all true, he did cheat on you, and the baby was his. Tears started welling up in your eyes but you continued. “She said her name was Jade and asked me to tell you to get into contact with her as soon as you could.”
Silence had engulfed the room, Roy was avoiding looking at you. The shame and regret he felt before was now intensified beyond capacity.
You spoke up again, asking the question you, now, already knew the answer to. “Roy, did you cheat on me?” The tears were already streaming down your face but you kept your composer; you did prepare yourself for this to some extent.
He didn’t say anything but just continued to stare at the ground. It was silent for what felt like forever before he whispered barely audibly, “I’m sorry.” He had tears running down his face. He fucked up and he knew it. A part of him was relieved that you knew, the part that had been carrying the guilt, shame, and worthlessness he had been feeling since it had happened.
“How could you do this to me?” Your voice was also just barely above a whisper. “Why did you do this to me?” You quietly sobbed.
All he could say in response was, “I’m so sorry.”
Silence had engulfed the room once again, occasionally being broken by sniffles or shifting feet. You knew what you had to do next.
“I’m going to stay with one of my friends/family members for the next few days, that should give you enough time to move out. The engagement ring is on the bedroom floor,” your voice trailed off.
“I’m sorry,” he said again in response, “that was a mistake, it didn’t mean anything. Can we talk about this? We could work this out. I don’t want to lose you, I love you more than anything else in the world. I know I fucked up, but please just give me a chance. Please,” he begged. He wanted you to yell at him, be mad at him, tell him he sucked, that you hated him. He wanted you to make him feel like shit. To validate what he felt inside. But you didn’t.
You looked at him with disbelief. Did he really just expect you to take him back like that, after he slept with another woman and conceived a child with her? “No, I won’t. I can’t. I never imagined that you would put me through something like this. From now on every time I look at you or think about you, all I’m going to be reminded of is this, the hell that I've been going through ever since I found out. I never expected the person I loved most to hurt me like this. I never, in my wildest dreams, thought that you would do this to me. That you would cheat on me. You didn’t even have the common decency to tell me that you cheated! I had to find out from someone else! You weren’t ever going to tell me, were you?” Anger was starting to flow through you. He didn’t say anything in response because he wasn’t going to let you find out, he promised himself that much.
Again, the silence told you everything you needed to know, he wasn’t going to tell you. You needed to get out of here, you needed to leave before you started saying things or throwing things. “Goodbye Roy Harper, I hope I never see you again for as long as I live.” With that you walked out of your once shared home. Roy’s heart ripped in half at that, he knew you meant those words. He was never going to see you again.
a/n: i refused to learn pool for this story because i prefer to remain bad at it, enjoy this third fic for the 700 Follower Event :]
cw: makeouts/implied offscreen sexual activities, sexual tension, description of combat, opening the polycule, gn!reader (no description of features/clothing)
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Jason and Roy decide that a relationship without you is no relationship at all.
Jason Todd/Reader/Roy Harper
It's odd, but one of the most feasible ways to earn a manner of destressing is when you and Jason are locked in martial combat. When you avoid the massive column of his arm that swings out to you, searching for means to club you to the ground: this is when you find yourself reaching a state of meditative ennui.
When you send out flying kick at him that is meant to topple his footing from beneath, that will stymie him from further retaliation: this is when you feel as though strife of the day has cleared residence from your head.
When the two of you find yourself in stalemate after battle well-fought and endured between each other, shoulders heaving as you consider possibility of retrial or to abstainment—this is perfection. This is bliss.
And talking with Jason is easy, as you recline on an elbow on the padded mats as he remains ramrod still in seated position. You feel at comfort with him. You don't even take in the manner that he watches how your gym shirt shuffles up with the languid stretch. How he is watching the vulnerable skin that is becoming his to appraise in his consumptive sights.
All you can focus upon is the question that you direct with a crooked little smile. The one that summons his arc of gaze back to you.
"So, what do you think about my technique now?" You ask, propping your cheek in your hand. You lean further into the give of the mat.
He makes a humming noise that seems to thrum through the entirety of him—his green eyes are so bright yet so demonstrative of depth. "I think you're getting better."
"Just better?" You can't help but feel a familiar smile of disbelief that is crossing the span of your face. "What about getting great?"
He's sarcastic, but far be it from him to allow his joke to disrupt the symmetry of his expression. He's monotone in his deadpan delivery to you as he states, "Don't want all the praise to get to your head."
You tsk with a click of your tongue. Your eyes pinwheel askance to the circular figure-eight that your free hand is tracing in the seam of the mat beneath you.
"Bet Roy would be nicer to me." You return with an almost petulant staunchness—it's a casual statement that you've lobbied out into the silence. It carries no insinuation, no barb. And you're unaware of the immediacy of the effect that it carries upon Jason, as the statement absorbs for him.
"You like fighting with Roy more than you do with me?" He asks, and perhaps there's a specific quality to the lightness of his question. Jason doesn't ask things lightly, he doesn't provoke things from the natural order—unless the topic has summoned his attention with great necessity.
You look up to him, feel something odd tumbling in the housing of your chest as you find those green eyes directly upon you.
"No—"—You shrug, a disjointed, uneven movement given your recline—"—I like fighting with the both of you just the same."
You provide the statement without bearing, without any layered intention. But Jason continues to proceed forward with the line of inquiry that he seems to determined to have out, turning directly towards you. You can't deny the way that this makes an unspooling of adrenaline press through the length of your body as you watch him do so.
"Don't lie." Jason urges, his voice low, his voice soporific—as though he intends to lull proper answer from you. "He's not here to hear it."
You shake your head without bearing any specific need to provide greater thought. You know the truth of your statement. But it's clear from the way that his eyes are staring through your body, taking in every detail of your face as you reply—he is unsure. He needs further verification.
"No—"—You disagree with his assertion. "I'm being honest. I think I like fighting against the both of you just the same."
He's quiet for the elapsing of a few seconds—in terms of Jason, a time that is eternal and everlasting. When he speaks, his voice is graced with an edge of curiosity.
"That so, sweetheart?" He asks, and there's something that seems to relax in the pitch of those shoulders that you didn't realize until now, have drawn taut. That were pinched with something yet to be relieved.
"'Course it is. Although—"—You lean forward in mollifying, conspiratorial manner to encourage him to listen closely—"—You're the more durable one out of the two of you."
There's a crook in the smile that he regales you with, that is both handsome and interested as he perceives you. You chuckle, putting your unoccupied hand that doesn't provide support over your mouth.
"But don't tell him I said that." You request of your confidant.
He's supremely benign as he relaxes back to full posture to you. "Won't breathe a word of it to him."
There's something quite articulated in the atmosphere of the room that you cannot quite place definition to. Warmer, perhaps—greatly affected by something that is making sensation prickle up and down your arms, your neck. Something that makes great heat pool under your skin.
Mercifully, it's Jason who breaks it, direct as he asks, "So you down for another round?"
"Only if you can keep up, Todd." You grin, and find your way to footing. Unaware still of how he watches every movement you make, as though he will never receive further chance to watch it.
"Think I will." He grins—and this little interlude is forgotten in the brutality of blow exchanged. For now, at least.
Your conversation with Jason remains tucked away and dormant in the background of your consciousness until a few days later. It's only resuscitated when you and Roy are tucked away in what qualifies as little more than a broom closet.
He affectionately refers to it as a "weapons room," but you know that the dimensions are indicative of something a little more menial.
You don't mind. The space is cramped, but with Roy, it's always cozy. He's looking at you now, over the blade that he takes care to sharpen with a whetstone.
Resting on the bench that the two of you have taken residence in are an abandoned shaft of arrows, and a few more blades that require the necessity of being polished. It's not vastly entertaining work—but the company can't be found anywhere else.
Roy seems to doubt the veracity of your claim, though. He arches his brow that frames the temple of his forehead in striking manner.
"Sure you don't mind helping me out with this?" He asks, as though he's impugned himself upon your time in dishonorable manner. Instead of being a friend that you actively seek out time to spend with.
You make a huff of a chuckle as you look away from your charge—a blade in dire need of a gleam to the curve of it. "Course I don't mind. I love spending time with you."
"Love spending time with me?" Roy echoes your choice of words, letting those brows jump up the acreage of his forehead. He looks quite shocked. The expression makes you laugh at the vaudeville of it all.
"Almost sounds like a confession." He replies gruffly to you, and there's exaggerated delivery in his words—but still an answer sought out.
And here there's a parallel to an interaction that you've forgotten about only until now, that makes your heart pulse quickly in the column of your throat. That makes you take in recuperative breath so you can concoct an answer.
"Only a confession that I like you, Harper—"—You say in manner that makes it ambiguous as to what you could be talking about—"—What's the harm in that?"
He understands the intentions of your words, doesn't press you for more—but doesn't relieve you from the conversation at hand. He resurfaces with further interrogative aims.
"Just as much as you like going on patrol with Jason?" He asks of you.
"Sure—"—You make a lobby of a shrug as you swipe a cloth over the blade, revealing a sheen undiscovered as of late—"—But there's different qualities to the both of you I like."
"Like?" Roy continues to ask, taking you both away from the task at hand. But you think it's been abandoned for a while now. You consider how best to word the muddled thoughts that are pinwheeling about each other, looking for manner in which to relieve the flush humming under the sinew of your body.
"Jason's the stern sort and can sort through something if he thinks about it enough." You supply first. Roy sets his dirtied cloth and blade beside him, taking great audience to your elaboration—"—And when he puts his mind to it."
You direct the tip of the blade in his direction with great particularity. "You like going about it in a casual, methodical manner."
Roy flexes the ability of his cocked brow once more, but says nothing in response while you articulate.
"There's a rhyme to the reason—but it's a good palate cleanser." You finally conclude your explanation to him.
He tilts his head in almost-offended means. "That's all I am to you? A palate cleanser?"
You laugh at the self-deprecating tone that he takes, eager to correct his assumption. But there's something in the way that this conversation has upended your sense of composure, your ability over diction. What you mean to say is not what you actually say.
"Either that or on my actual palate—"—You choke upon the words as you realize that you have fumbled. It's further substantiated by the way that Roy's eyes go wide, coupled with his dubious smile.
"Wait." You hold up a hand, letting the inferno of embarrassment devour you alive as you flail internally. "Ignore I said that."
You abandon the blade to the plateau of your lap as he begins to laugh, a loud, clear noise that does little to abate the agony.
You try and smother your torment so that you can say, "I swear to God, that came out wrong—don't tell anyone I said that—"
He recovers eventually, just long enough to allow you to stew in your misery while wishing death upon you both. But when he speaks, there's a ken to his gaze that you don't quite understand, still fomenting in your horrible mishap.
"Consider it forgotten." He reassures you with a well-acted lie, and encourages you to return back to your responsibilities. And you try your best to forget this as well.
Time off is a luxury so rarely provided, but so well-enjoyed when given opportunity. You, Jason and Roy happen to be the lucky trio that is given the privilege of indulging in it now—and have taken the time to do so in the rec room of sorts. Though, it appears that there's no one else in the room. All that occupies it are a few chairs and a pool table.
It only makes sense then, that the three of you would gravitate towards it in search of engaging activities. But then the three of you are stymied by a specific type of hesitancy—the hesitation of the layperson.
"Okay, but do any of you two know how to actually play pool?" You ask of them, deciding to take one for the team.
Roy answers in very typical fashion, "We learn more on the job—in the heat of the action."
You're trying to ignore the way that he looks rather dashing in his civvies—red shirt and jeans—while Jason is in black and cargos. Casual wear that suits them well, that complements each other. That makes you marvel at how well they frame the clothes, so that the muscles are so clearly visible through them all.
But these are thoughts that you must dash away if you're to have an enjoyable experience.
You chuckle and press a gripped knuckle to the junction of your hip. "So I'll take that as a no. Are we going to team up against each other?"
Jason suggests alternative as he regards the rack of pool cues that he is in closest proximity to. "How about every man for themselves and whoever sinks a hole gets a point?"
Roy isn't one to be left bereft of answer. "You say that because you're going to miss the balls you actually need to get."
In supplement, he jerks his head at the pool balls still held by the frame—and ducks the jab that Jason sends his way. But these playfighting is momentarily suspended. At least, as you stalk past them and make appropriate choice given your size. As they both silently take in the way that you stand before them with weapon of choice.
"Well," You gust through your teeth as you look at the battleground before you, "Let me get this shitshow on the road first, then."
It's a quick approach, a bending of joints as you position yourself in the sights of the white ball that you take aim at. There's a delightful clack of onomatopoeia as you send the balls in colorful spiral across the horizon of the green table. It's only interrupted by the satisfied way that you pull the cue back at the display—right into Roy's hip.
"Oh fuck—"—You exclaim, looking back at the fair distance that Roy has chosen to not take away from you. Were you more cognizant, you would note that he had been too distracted by the adjusted angle of your body over the table—"—I'm so sorry about that!"
Jason is dry as he takes the forefront to go make his shot, bypassing you to take aim. "Gotta watch the rear, Harper."
You're too busy dashing away the implications and the heat that is collecting under your face to watch as he very expertly misses any shot with the cue ball that darts around the perimeter of the table. Roy himself is no better when the white ball spirals in place at his shot.
"We might be here longer than I thought," you grumble to yourself. You return to make your shot—and do no better, the cue ball ghosting a touch against the purple stripes but finding inertia on the green plane.
Though he's one to talk, Roy decides to interject into the silence, "Gotta watch the technique on that backswing."
"It's pool, not golf, Harper." Jason informs Roy with neutral cavalier quality.
"With them," Roy jerks his head at you, "Might as well be the same difference."
This is what causes you to find full standing position. You don't resist the glare at the Two Stooges clearly enjoying their japes between each other.
"Well, is one of you gonna help me, then?" You demand, clutching the cue stick to your chest to better fortify your indignation. Jason advances towards you without further need for prompting, and takes perch next to you on the banister that surrounds the table.
And suddenly—the game doesn't seem so important. What does is watching the flex of his bare, exposed arm as it leans on the wood grain, a vein cutting through the meter of his skin in delicious manner. The way that his muscle becomes so much more sharply delineated as he rests on it to provide you tutelage.
You're unaware if he's taken notice, with the way that he instructs you to follow his teaching.
"Alright, sweetheart." He says, and it's odd—it always feels normal the manner in which he says sweetheart. But this time it's different—there's something that runs in dangerous undercurrent in the way he says it this time. In the way that his eyes are piercing through you. In the way that something is quickly flaring to life in the residence of your body as you watch him, watching you.
"Use your hand as the base to support the cue stick—"—He informs you to take heed, which you do so with careful precision, feeling the felt tickle the underside of your palm—"—And then take aim."
"You mean, what I've already been doing?" You joke, but the delivery of it is lighter, breathier. For some reason.
"You asked, " He replies with a lilting tease in the cadence of his voice.
You zero in on the blue solid that is in perfect alignment with the white one, letting the cue stick rest on the fleshy meeting of your forefinger and thumb. But it's so very hard to concentrate on the game when Jason is looming besides you, watching the minutiae of how you direct the shot.
And when it goes wide, how his rich, caramelized laugh thrums through you—you remember to make a noise of disappointment. Although you feel anything but. Although something wicked is building foundation in your brain as you turn from Jason who appears nonplussed at your defeat.
And you turn to Roy.
"Alright," You say, leveling the sight of your eyes upon him, "It's your turn to help me."
Roy appears none the worse for wear at being cheated out of his turn. But he doesn't approach you, remaining on the support of his cue stick as a crutch.
There's a playful angle to his voice as he cocks his head at you. "Coulda sworn it was one of our turns."
Your reply is pert and smart as you chirp back, "It's one of your turns once I actually sink one."
To your side, Jason argues without any real determination to the statement, "Don't think that's playing fair."
You laugh as though rules are something that any of you three have devoted great attentions to in this hamfisted attempt of a game. "Don't think any of us actually know how to play, so does it matter?"
Jason is unable to find suitable quarrel with the statement so you direct your third of the trio to ascend to the wings. "Get over here, Harper."
Roy finds his way to you with surprising speed, coming far closer than Jason did. The lack of space that the two of you assume between each other makes you without breath for a second. But only a second, for Roy is speaking, and it's as though he's in the shell of your ear, crooning such sweet sorrows.
"Okay, lean down and make sure that the cue can only hit the side if you want spin." His hand points to the ball that is now your best option for scoring—though you could care less when you take in the ridge of his knuckles, the swathe of his palm as he points. As you idly consider the calloused spread of his palm upon you.
"—And hit it directly but not with too much pressure." He finishes, though this is the only snippet of dialogue that you're able to truly remember from him.
"Alright," you lie with more surety than you actually possess, "Let's give it a shot."
Once more, you approach the threshold with more gravitas than you actually possess, all-but-feeling the schooling of two sets of eyes that are attentive to your every move. The fact that the cue ball is once again relegated to limbo on the board without hitting a single ball is unsurprising.
You stand back up with a groan on your lips that one might describe as defeated. "I don't think I'm going to get this."
Roy's voice is still so very close to you, urging you down the primrose path. "Maybe you just need us to hold you through it."
It's the fact that it's the late hour could perhaps blame the reason why you say back with light, airy quality, "Maybe I do."
Jason's voice is rugged with something that has yet to be willingly categorized by you. Something that is velvet and dangerous no matter which way you proceed.
"Well," He asks carefully, "What do you suggest?"
"I think—"—You turn to address them both, Jason to your right, Roy to your left, mustering up a bravery that you must execute now or never—"—I think I suggest this."
Your hand finds easy purchase on the collar of Jason's shirt, though you know he could have stayed your hand, deflected the direction of it. He allowed you to grab him because he knew your wants. Because he read the desire that was marked in the curl of your fist as you found him.
As you dragged him down to your level, as he allowed himself to be led with surprising ease. As you found the full of his mouth with your own, as you finally tasted the forbidden fruit that you had denied yourself by self-deception.
As you kiss Jason Todd. And savor the scent of his cologne on your tongue and find the flat of his own pressing against yours, desperate to keep you against him. As he makes a low, needful groan into your mouth, his hand wracking around your body—as he draws as much of you as he can spare into his arms.
It's only when the two of you pull apart that you are made aware of the audience that has taken vested interest in the passionate display before him. As he leans disaffected, languid arm on the table, a lazy smile creeping up his face.
"Any of that for me?" Roy asks with a grin that is taking root on his face. As he already knows the answer that you will provide his way, as Jason's grip slackens upon you to allow him to join the fray.
'Wouldn't be a good scientific experiment if I didn't." You match the inflection of his grin as he makes to close up the distance with sharp alacrity.
"Come here." you say, but he's already arrived—and his mouth is hot and desperate to taste yours. His tongue is eager to search out the access of your mouth, to explore the journey of your teeth, to grab a handful of you.
You're vaguely aware that there is a hand on the back of your head that isn't Roy's, that Jason is murmuring low, wanting praise. That you have one hand around the curve of Roy's cheek—and the other is fisted into the sleeve of Jason's arm, keeping him as steadying anchor.
It's you who pulls away first for air—takes in the flushed, hazy glow of Roy. Evaluates the lustful cant of Jason's eyes as he watches the two of you reassess the rapidly changing nature of your relationship.
But it's you who brings them back in, and allows them to press you down to the top of the pool table, with utmost gentility and undying servitude to make you undone—your wish their every command.
It's the next day when you wake up. You're sandwiched in sweaty, tacky, barely-clothed and blanketed, satisfied tangle of limbs between them when the memories coalesce over you.
You realize in short time that they are already awake, soft, murmuring conversation of inane things exchanged between them. It falls short and drifts off as you shift, to signify your return to the waking world.
"So," You ask sleepily, ever one to get to the point, "What are we?"
There's a mutual, knowing chuckle between the three of you. Jason's hand urges around your jaw, not directing you to look any specific direction—but it's soft, tender.
"We're hoping you would tell us." Jason says, and there's a clear, navigable proposal that he—that they have both—laid at your feet. The chance to mark this fleeting indulgence—or something more material.
You look to the sea foam green of Jason's eyes, to the cornflower blue of Roy's, to their expectant, hopeful faces that are drawn with everlasting optimism. And you know your answer.
"Well, I don't want to choose either of you without the other." You say meekly. It's at this, as if in reassurance, they draw closer about you, bastion to uphold and uplift you in this time of crucial need.
Roy's voice is laced with amusement as his hand worries around the nuance of your collarbone, making you giggle. "Didn't think you'd have to."
Jason picks up point to continue.
"As long as you want us like this—"—And you take in the two of them, as they wish for the moon and hope that you'll join their heavenly orbit—"—This works for us."
It's no great, difficult choice. You smile at them, and feel the relief that seeps through the meter of their bodies that are worked in devotion to you.
"Then—"—You offer them sly show of teeth—"—Let's pick up where we left off from last night."
Ever chivalrous, ever true, ever both yours—they oblige.
dividers created by my dear friend @itsgivingardener
Takuma is laying under you, you with nothing but his shirt on are sitting on top of him watching him stroke his dick
Hes on the edge again already, having tears in his eyes from all the pleasure building up but never getting that sweet release he is so desperate to get, his cock twitching at the lightest touch, his tip a deep red
„Stop touching“ and he does as you say, his hand flying off his dick the second he hears your sweet voice
„Baby please I can’t take it anymore, please..“ You just smile down at him, his hairs sticking to his forehead, his eyes practically begging you to be done with your little game.
But you had other plans, thinking about just how far you can get him. Moving up just a slight bit you press your wet pussy against his boner, his eyes screw shut at the feeling of just the slightest touch, his hands grabbing the sheets as he is almost there
„You can’t just do…thh..at“ Takuma tries to protest as he is trying not to just burst, but as soon as you sway your hips back and forth on him he trembles, spurts of white land all over his stomach, the rest mixing with your slick all over his dick
Roy Harper with a partner who likes eye contact during sex.
I’m talking about intense eye-to-eye moments while riding him. A bit ooc but I feel like he gets flustered and tries looking away. But you manage to capture his chin between your index and thumb.
He sees the love and admiration in your eyes and he feels like it’s misdirected.
How could someone like you ever love and cherish someone like him?
summary; making out with roy at your brother's birthday party leads to a confession.
content; gn!batsibling!reader, a little steamy, roy & reader making out, confessions, reader is oblivious and it makes roy frustrated....
wc; 620
To no one's surprise, Roy Harper was an amazing kisser.
You certainly didn't expect hanging out with Roy at Dick's birthday party to end up like this. You weren't quite sure how you got here, but after a few drinks and busy friends, the two of you snuck into a stuffy storage closet — one of many in the large manor you called home.
He pushed you against the wall, lips refusing to pull away from yours unless you needed a breather. His hands were on your waist, slipped beneath your shirt. Despite the bravado and confidence you knew Roy Harper had — he didn't dare to let his hands go any higher or lower.
You made him nervous, and you weren't quite sure on what to do with that bit of information. You assumed it was because of Dick. After all, he was your older brother that happened to be one of Roy's closest friends. If he found out that you've been swapping spit with his best friend, you doubt he'd be happy.
"Roy..." You moaned softly, pulling him away by his hair to make him look at you. His lips were red and swollen from the intensity of your kisses. "... this is wrong, Dick's gonna kill you, and I'm not gonna let him—"
"Let him kill me." He rasped — you think it's the alcohol talking. "Please. I just wanna taste you babe. I've been dreaming of this for so goddamn long..."
Your eyes widened, the fingers that were tugging on his hair loosened slightly, caught off guard with his words. "W-What are you talking about, Roy?" You asked nervously, unable to hide the tremor in your voice.
He chuckled lowly, giving you a smirk. "You're the most oblivious person I've had the pleasure of crushing on." He said, "I've been into you for years, gorgeous. I've been waiting for so long to be able to kiss you like this. No bats... No Dickie... no siblings..."
His lips went to your neck, kissing and gently biting — he was careful enough to make sure he didn't leave any noticeable marks. "I'm so fucking into you it hurts."
You were frozen, and he seemed to notice. The red-head paled, his brows furrowing and his lips pursing. "Hey, if you don't wanna —"
"Shit. No, Roy." You whisper-shouted. "I want this. I want this so bad, it's just... you liked me? All this time?"is
Roy groaned, throwing his head back in frustration. "How'd you explain all the times I've asked to patrol with you specifically? How'd you explain the time I didn't hesitate to leave Star City just to come here and see you when I heard you got hospitalized? And the dozens of times I called you pretty?"
You shrugged, and it made him cringe. "I thought you were being nice!"
"Oh my god." He sighs, his hands reaching up to cup your face. He looked at you for a few seconds before leaning in.
"I." A kiss on your jaw.
"Liked." A kiss on your cheek.
"You." A kiss on your lips. Deep and passionate. Like he was making a point, like was proving that he's been hopelessly pining for you for god knows how long.
He pulled away, looking into your eyes to try and decipher what was going on in your head. "... are you sure this isn't the alcohol talking?"
He snorted. "A thousand percent sure."
"...Good." You sighed. You kissed him again, tasting the alcohol and the mints he consumed prior — probably to prepare for this moment. "Take me out on a date?" you asked once you pulled away.
He chuckled, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kissed your forehead. "Seven p.m tomorrow. Don't be late, I'll pick you up.”
Hello to everyone on tumblr, I have come to announce that I have officially moved out of my father’s house. I have endured many abuses in that house, but I will no longer undergo through such things anymore. I will be much more available now.
I now reside in my grandmother’s house. It’s peaceful here and I don’t have to worry about much.
Thank you for waiting, I love you all!!
Aazix!! (AS-its) @inotaku-talkz - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
