neil is an intergalactic alien sent to earth tasked with writing fanfiction! 19 she/he/they bisexual adhd southeast asian multi-fandom english student roy harper's canon gf ceo of oldman!hal jordan sequel trilogy liker ex-vault 101 resident
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°. ✶ guidelines ✶ masterlist ✶ 🎸 ✶
neil pixelbfs' playlist:
1. of all the gin joints in the world — fall out boy
2. sue me — audrey hobert
3. i'm not gonna teach your boyfriend how to dance with you (the twelves remix) — black kids
‼️ZIONISTS/RACISTS/HOMOPHOBES/TRANSPHOBES/PEDOS ETC DNI. minors please block the #nsfw tag.
🍒 party girl!reader and roy harper relationship headcanons. || fluff, daily life headcanons, may be suggestive, not proofread. || ⋆˚࿔ i love this idea but i hate how poorly i wrote it :(
Roy Harper was an outgoing person, this was something most people knew about him, but he never thought he would eventually date someone who loves partying, drinking and socializing.
You were such a lively person. Roy loved this about you. He never thought of you as loud or clingy.
When some people came at him and complained about you, he became sarcastic and supported your actions.
And that was what you loved about him.
He was sober for months, maybe even years, but still he was the most supportive boyfriend you’ve ever had when it came to your party life.
He loved going out to parties with you. He protected you when you got drunk. Helped you shower, get ready for bed and do whatever you couldn’t at that moment.
That man was such a good man and you loved it about him.
The best thing about him was that he wasn’t insecure. He didn’t say anything about what you wore and that was such a blessing.
And he had the cutest little girl ever!
You and Lian always prepared breakfast while Roy was sleeping, with loud music.
Dating him was so much fun than you could ever think of.
He prepared delicious cocktails just for you. Whenever you wanted to throw a party, he helped you make your playlist. He was the funniest person ever.
And, of course, you adapted to his life, too.
He had a life that consisted of action. Being a father, boyfriend and Arsenal was not easy feat but he managed it well.
You became the trusted adult whenever he had to leave Lian with someone.
You and Lian had so many fun times together. You painted your nails, cooked, baked, threw pajama parties, watched cartoons and Barbie movies.
Even though you and Roy had such different lives, you still made life amazing to live together and that was what Roy adored the most.
BONUS DRABBLE ! (suggestive, reader is drunk)
“Let’s go,” you heard him say, his breath hit your ear as you kept swaying your hips to the music. Roy was behind you, his hands hugged your hips and pressed a little to stop your movements but you didn’t stop. “C’mon, baby.” You shook your head against his words.
“Can we stay more?” You turned to face him in his arms. His palms landed on your ass, slowly crawling up to your back. His touch was so feather soft yet solid there. “Pretty please!” You whined loudly.
He closed his eyes, shaking his head to each side, “Nope.”
“I’ll kiss you and hug you and fuck—“
“No.” He pulled you into himself a little more. You buried your head into his muscular chest as your arms climbed around him and grabbed his back.
“Rooy…” You cried his name out and he did the same with your name, his arms patted your back.
“We should leave. You need to shower, sleep, maybe I’ll give you a massage if you’re a good girl.”
His words were going right into your brain as he kept saying his bait. You rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you said. The loud music was banging in your head and it matched with your heartbeat. “Can you carry me?”
“Sure,” The last thing you saw was his smirk and you heard yourself yelp as he threw you over his shoulder.
“Roy!” You hit his back but he kept walking and ignored you. “I’m gonna throw up, oh my god!”
“You wouldn’t be the first person to do it.” His grasp on your legs got tighter as you kept squirming. “It also would not be the first time you did it.”
After that you stopped moving and decided to enjoy your time there, perched on his strong shoulders.
this is so cute and fun 😭😭😭 i love how reader still manages to party out with lian!!! like ofc the girls would have fun together!!!! im so glad i requested this bcs ohmygad im kicking my feet and twirling my hair it's so cute esp with how reader adapts to roy's life
and rooooyyyy ugh hes just so perfect... hes my dream bf... he's so supportive i love that
HIHIHIHI YESSS i decided to go pink blue purple for pride month 😇😇😇 i also wanted to stray away from the alien theme but i liked it so much i decided to make it my ENTIRE THING
summary: a moment of realization makes you distance yourself from roy, though your heart can't get rid of him that easily.
content: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, reader has a moment of epiphany that makes them go crazy, reader makes roy sad :( might be a bit bad sorry!!, ft. wally donna & dick!
wc: 2.7k
a/n: once again i am late. you guys are allowed to tickle me if you ever see me irl.
part one | part two | part three
You're the first person he searches for.
As he clashed the cymbals and beat his drums, his eyes dissected the entire crowd, landing and staying on the person he hoped with all his heart would come: you. His favourite person for the past few months, the person replacing all of the thoughts in his mind. And unfortunately, the person who's been ignoring him for a whole week.
Days had gone by with ignored text messages, with those texts varying from long, semi-emotional texts to short questions about your well-being. With each text that was ignored, his heart ached from worry and insecurity. Questions of your current well-being and his actions that could've caused this flooded his mind, adding to his growing worry.
Those thoughts led to one last text message he left last night. 'I hope you come to my gig.'
And there you were, standing in the far back, holding a cup of whatever while you watched him play. Your face was devoid of any expression, watching him with a blank stare and lips pressed into a tight line.
He didn't let it mess with his head. That night, he played better than he's ever played.
— ONE WEEK AGO.
"You look fine. Pretty, even." Roy chuckled, glancing at you as you checked your teeth for the umpteenth time in the vanity mirror. You were now aware of never asking Roy how you looked; he was always going to say you looked pretty. It was one of those sweet things that became annoying over time.
You swore you could still feel some remnants of the veggies you ate earlier lodged in the gaps of your teeth, hence why your finger was still nudged in your mouth, trying to find where the salad was, as it muffled your speech. "I cou hill heel ik!" You muffled, straightening your posture once again to look in the mirror.
A few moments later, you proved Roy wrong. There was, in fact, a small bit of salad stuck between your molars. Before leaving the car, you took one last look at yourself in the mirror. You were going to meet his friends today, and you were determined to impress them.
They were pretty popular on campus. A wallflower like you heard a few rumours here and there, but still knew well enough not to let those rumours cloud your judgement. After all, giving Roy a chance at that house party made him become your partner, your significant annoyance.
You walked into the bar with him, looking around to take in the atmosphere. It was probably a little fancier than the usual dive bars people you knew frequented. You wouldn't know — you've stepped into many taverns filled with pointy-eared humans and those with skin painted in bright greens or purples, but not actual bars that served alcoholic drinks. Mentally, you thank Roy for not making you remain a total dork.
"Theeerreee he is!" A voice boasted, lifting his arm to direct the two of you to a booth in the far end corner of the bar. He was another ginger, tall and a little bit lankier than Roy. His hair was curly, face peppered with visible freckles. You finally recognise him to be none other than Wally West.
Surprisingly, you've talked to Wally a few times before due to common interests. Hell, in freshman year, you hated him for stealing your spot in the college's e-sports team (which, to be frank, he earned fair and square.)
"Oh, hey!" He grinned, dabbing you up with so much energy you wondered if he had super speed. "Haven't talked to you in a while, dude." He said, throwing his arm around your shoulder to walk you closer to the gang.
"Wally, can you let them breathe first?" Says the only girl in the group, staring at him with the familiar look of siblingly annoyance. "Ignore him, he's just excited to have someone new on the table."
Donna, like Wally, was familiar to you, too. She was the first person most clubs scoured to hire whenever pictures needed to be taken. A semester ago, your D&D club booked her to be the photographer for your annual meeting. By some magic miracle, she managed to make your club look cool.
"Mhm." The guy next to her nods. You'd be living under a rock if you say you didn't know him. Dick Grayson was the campus heartthrob — you've seen him pretty much everywhere, with your favourite appearance of his being the one where his entire face was on a huge banner in front of the accounting faculty. He wasn't even learning accounting.
Roy eventually rolled his eyes, pulling you closer to him by the collar of your shirt. He took the chance to jest, accepting the risk of being punched in the arm. "Guys, chill. Please. This is their first time interacting with human beings."
Of course, you punched him in the arm. "Dick." You huffed, to which Dick Grayson says, "Me?"
Donna snorts. "Anyways, where the hell's Garth?"
"Swim meet. Didn't you read the group?" Wally answered, reaching out to steal another one of her fries.
The rest of the night went well — more than well, really. They had you caught up with their inside jokes, told funny stories they would never stop repeating to new people they meet, and even talked about letting you join their future meetups. Even though you still preferred being alone in your room, the fact that they thought of inviting you was nice.
The sound of a microphone's feedback makes you wince, ruining the comfortable atmosphere of the conversation. You turned around, seeing a girl on a stage with a TV above her head, displaying the lyrics to the song she was about to sing.
Roy had brought you to a karaoke bar.
When you turned to face him, you were met with a pout and pleading puppy eyes. "No," you said, immediately turning him down. "There's no way in hell am I going up there to sing, Harper."
A few moments later, you sat at the table, watching Roy belt out an old eighties love ballad, unable to hit a single note. He caressed the microphone stand, moving with nothing but unadulterated passion. For a second, his eyes found yours, flustering you before you looked away.
You weren't the only one to have noticed that. Beside you, Wally eyed you with a suggestive smirk. The redhead nudged Dick, "Think he's got anyone in mind, Dicky?"
"Oh, definitely." Dick laughed, also looking at you for a moment. The four friends broke into quiet laughter, sending suggestive looks your way, implying something you didn't know.
"Why the heck are you guys looking at me like that?" you asked, looking at them as you fidgeted with the edge of your cup.
Donna chuckled, answering with a sarcastic shrug. "Oh, I dunno, maybe the fact Roy's pretty much in love with you?"
That made your heart drop. Not in a good way. A dam in your head broke, flooding your head with thoughts that weakened your nervous system. Roy Harper. In love with you? You face the man on the stage again, watching him as he practically humps the microphone stand with how passionate he's singing. You suddenly felt physically sick, unable to process that statement even if they meant it as a joke.
Roy Harper, in love with you? The change of perspective felt too sudden. Your body went limp as if you'd been hit by a high-speed bullet train. The way you see everything he's done for you changes — from the Renaissance Faire to the dance in Ollie's kitchen.
To you, it was still ridiculous. It didn't make sense. The mere thought of him loving you more than a friend felt as impossible as the concept of time travel itself. The polaroid girl's face is etched in your mind, being the voiceless figure that reminds you to never fall for Roy Harper, because he doesn't go for geeks like you. You're not his type, and you never will be.
Yet… why does it make sense? That would be the answer to his kindness towards you, the reason behind why Roy would've pushed everything aside just to see a smile on your face, even if it was only for a second.
Common sense was pushed aside as the anxieties in your head grew stronger. It protected you as much as it harmed you. It reminded you to be aware of who you were, plaguing your thoughts with deeply rooted insecurity while simultaneously keeping you away from potential heartbreak. Deep in your bones, you felt insurmountable guilt for making Roy seem like he liked you.
Before you could even think, your legs walked you out of the bar.
— PRESENT DAY.
Roy wipes the sweat off his forehead, eyes squinting as he takes the handkerchief off his face, blinded by the bright spotlight shining on him. His gaze returns to the direction of the crowd, blinking the sunspots away for a few moments before seeing you again, still in the same position.
He reached down to grab his water bottle, taking a big gulp to moisturise his throat that dried at the sight of you. He hadn't practised what to say to you — he didn't even think you'd show up.
With a deep breath, Roy walked off the stage, pushing through the dense crowd with polite 'excuse me's. Once he was finally standing in front of you, everything seemed to be quiet. He couldn't hear the sound of the crowd, just his heart beating so hard and fast he was sure he could die of cardiac arrest right then and there.
"Hey," was the first thing he could think of. He stands motionless, his eyes looking at you with the now-familiar softness he's only used for you.
"Hi." You greeted, also not knowing what to say. Was 'Hey, my insecurities are rooted so deeply in my soul that I thought I was a terrible person for making people think we were dating. Sorry.' too straightforward? Probably.
"I'm really glad you came." He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I thought you weren't gonna show up."
"It was a last-minute decision." You replied truthfully, suddenly finding the floor to be an interesting sight.
Those words made his heart break a little. Even though you were standing here in front of him, it wasn't your initial choice. "Right," he forced a laugh to detensify the atmosphere, but nothing seemed to help. "Look, just… Let's cut to the chase and talk, can we?"
You've been dreading this. Since your arrival here was a spontaneous decision, you came unprepared, unsure of what to say to him. "Yeah. Sure. Outside?"
A tumbleweed rolls by the two of you as you stood outside the bar. Figuratively.
It's so silent you could hear each thump of your heart, thrashing against your ribcage as you waited for him to speak. Roy looks as unsure as you are, judging by his clammy hands and the way he was tapping his feet. After a full sixty-three seconds — yes, you were counting — you broke the silence. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
You should've known better; it was an extremely stupid thing to say to a man who's been suffering over the lack of your presence. Roy's mouth opens at first, but he's immediately at a loss for words. For the first time in your friendship with him, he's letting himself be angry at you. "Are you kidding me?" he sighed, crossing his arms. "Is there anything for us to talk about except for the fact you've ghosted me for an entire week?"
Embarrassment renders you unable to speak.
Roy continues, doing all he can to hold back his anger and think clearly for you. "We do everything together. Everything." He bit his lip, finding his words, "I just want to know what made you stop wanting that."
Your reaction was immediate. You finally face him, using up all your willpower to look into his eyes. "No, Roy… I want that. I do, it's just—"
"Just what? What the hell happened to you that made you stop answering all my texts? If it's me, then just tell me—"
"It's not you!" You answered, rubbing your face in frustration. "And nothing happened..."
"So tell me. Tell me why I've been ignored this entire week by the only person I care about on this stupid campus." Those words came out before he could even reconsider them, but he didn't care. For you to know just how bad your absence had affected him, you needed to know the truth.
You couldn't answer that. At least, not in a way that wouldn't have hurt him. "I… I guess I wanted you to spend less time with someone like me?"
His expression doesn't seem to change. He's still looking at you with narrowed eyes and a gaze so charged with anger it burned on your skin. "Someone like you?"
"Y'know, me. A total geek everyone laughs at? Someone who can't dress even if their life depended on it? Someone who's the literal opposite of cool?"
His look softens. It doesn't turn sympathetic — the anger remained, but there was slightly less than before. "So what, just because you feel insecure, you'd throw away everything we had? You're really gonna let your head win?" He asked, not really expecting you to answer. "I get self-sabotaging, I really do. But are you not even gonna try to fight it? For us? For me? For your own, self-proclaimed loser self?"
You slumped against the nearby wall of the building, closing your eyes. "Guess I wasn't."
He scoffed, leaning next to you. "Y'know, D&D weekends and ren faires don't make you a loser. Quitting does." He stated, uncrossing his arms. "You know I don't care, right? I genuinely don't give a single flying fuck about what people think of me. If I woke up tomorrow to people throwing tomatoes at me just because I hang out with you, I wouldn't care. You mean more to me than that."
As your eyes remained closed during the onslaught of emotions you felt at the moment, you felt the ghost of his hand next to yours. Slowly, his fingers laced with yours, holding your hand firmly — his way of saying he wasn't going to let go. "I'll hold onto you. I'm not gonna let you run away and actually become a loser who quits."
You kick his leg. He smiles.
"There you are." He hummed, pulling you closer by your intertwined hands. "My favourite person to bother."
You couldn't help but let the smile force its way on your face. Roy Harper was the only person who could ever successfully crumble down the walls you've built around yourself. It's been that way since he first met you at the house party that seemed so long ago now.
"You're the coolest person I know, y'know that?"
"Roy—'"
"You are. I love it when you talk about your campaigns or your favorite supervillains. It's cool." he murmured, those words reserved just for you. "And I think your geeky shirts are cool too. They're vintage. They suit you well."
Seeing the way you were reluctantly taking in those words, he considered his mission of convincing you to have some self confidence a success. "C'mon," he smiled, tugging you inside the building. "You need some music in your veins."
Another band had taken over the stage, playing a punky rendition of a twenty-tens love song you've heard on the radio a long time ago. In the warm, low lights of the bar, you let your eyes wander around his face. You find a few things you didn't initially notice, like the small scar on his right cheek or the small mole under his jaw, hidden in the subtle dust of orange stubble.
Rather than halting your thoughts before they had the chance to become less than platonic, you let them happen. You let yourself blush when he turns to smile at you. You let your heartstrings tug when he puts his arm around your shoulder, needing you closer.
That night, you let yourself fall for him, without thinking about yourself or the polaroid left forgotten in his car.
extra scene:
You and Roy were holding separate microphones, waiting for the lyrics to kick in. The smirk remained on his face, even when you gave him a death glare. You would've killed him if your body wasn't incapacitated by terrible stage fright.
"You areee… my fiiiireee…" He started, lips way too close to the microphone. It was unhygienic, but there wasn't much you could do when it came to Roy Harper.
"The one, deeesiiiireee…" You continued, stiff as a pole, as your eyes darted aroundthe crowd, trying your best to ignore Donna's phone trained on you and Roy.
Roy turns to you, far too excited to be singing Backstreet Boys. It was to a point where he had you genuinely wonder if he was drunk. "Believe, when I say…"
In tandem, the two of you sang. "I waaant it thaaat way."
likes & reblogs appreciated !!
stars by @/pixopix, drumsticks by @/mouseygraphics
DESK PET . cockwarming your gf barbara (kinda) pairing ! barbara gordon x fem!reader cw ! porn without plot, strap usage, dom!babs, slight degradation, orgasm denial, babs is a total meanie (hot) nicknames used : baby, honey, stupid girl, slut, pet, brat, sweet girl . 📓 sorry if u can tell this is so self indulgent, she’s lit my gf 🤷🏾♀️
It’s too hot today. The Clock Tower was a sauna.
The jacket you wore was thrown lazily over one of the many desks swarmed with piles of folders, the straps of your top nearly sticking to your skin and the fabric at the underside of your breasts already slightly damp and darkening.
“Barbie…” you whined, the sound of another shlick drop of your pussy lips stretched around the gummy silicone of your girlfriend’s cock punctuating your need. “F-fuuuck—!” You eased up again, all the way to the tip, then arched your back to drop down again, harder.
Your little skirt was barely there, bunched up around your waist, and your panties long since shoved to the side. Every drop of your hips made your girlfriend’s cock press against that perfect spot inside you, drawing a shaky breath from your lips.
“Come on, you can take it,” Barbara hummed into your ear, tilting her hips upwards as more of your creamy slick dripped down the shaft to soak the seat of her pants. “So good, baby…” she whispered, a free hand coming up to palm one of your aching tits under your top, rolling and pinching the tight bud between her fingertips. “Letting me stretch you out like this.”
“So big,” you cried, pressing a palm down against one of her thighs for leverage as you rolled your hips back and forth then back again in slow grinds. “Filling me up so good… wanna cum—”
Barbara hissed out a moan between her teeth, swatting your hand away and clutching you tighter against her with one muscled arm, the other pinching your clit between a forefinger and thumb before circling it gently, then furiously then gently again, coaxing you to the edge.
“Already? You’re so spoiled—” she grunted, fucking up into the mess between your legs, your ass flush against her pelvis and the pressure on her clit making the back of her neck burn with heat. “Can’t even sit still for two seconds. Climbing on my lap like a needy brat when you know I’m busy. Just needed me, huh? Needed me to fuck you full, baby… so needy for me… it’s okay…” she cooed into your hair.
Your mouth fell open in an uh! uh! uh! over and over again as she ground against that gummy spot inside you, your thighs shaking against hers.
“My stupid girl,” she rasped, hot against your ear. “You can do it— fuck— cum for me like this, honey.” she leaned back, taking you with her as your back pressed sticky against her heaving chest and your hips ground down to chase the aching pleasure she gave you. “Love when your pretty girl fucks you like this, baby?”
“Barbie— yes—” your hips jerked at the feel of her thrusts, your body jolting upward and tits bouncing as she held you down and fucked up into you like a toy. “Ahh— fuck, yes—like that, just like that—” you babbled breathlessly.
The sickening crackle sound of comm link coming in made you clench hard. It was Nightwing shouting into Barbara’s ear — something about a detonator, a pipe bomb or whatever, you weren’t even hearing correctly. You were so close, so close, if only your Barbie could keep fucking you just like this—
“Stay,” her arm banded around your front as she sat up straight, your pussy flush against the hilt and you whimpered at the loss of your impending orgasm as another voice crackled through her earpiece.
“Yeah, I’m still here. Go ahead.” She answered smoothly, typing one-handed while her other hand slipped between your legs to abuse your swollen clit with absentminded circles.
You turned your head, lips brushing her jaw. “Baby, please… I’ll be good, I swear. Just fuck me, please—”
“Nightwing, I’ve got eyes on the east entrance. You’ve got two hostiles, one that looks trigger happy. But handle it quietly...”
You whined, long and needy.
“You’re never good,” Barbara grunted into your ear. “You’re a spoiled brat that came here to distract me and now you’re whining because you’re too full and too wet to handle getting fucked like you asked.” The hand on your hip suddenly pulled you down harder, forcing the strap even deeper.
Your moan was barely muffled against her neck as the obscene sound of your pussy leaking on her cock made your face burn.
“You’re so fucking messy…” she laughed under her breath, right up against your ear. “You want everybody to know you’re a desk pet? Sitting on my cock, creaming all over my lap, and still whining for more?”
“Barbie…” you whined softly, trying to rock down again, but her hand tightened on your hip, stilling you instantly.
You were so soaked. Every slow clench around her strap made more slick drip down the base, coating her lap. “I said stay,” she murmured against your ear, voice low enough that the comms wouldn’t pick it up. “Sit there and wait like a polite slut.”
You whined like it hurt, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as your pussy clenched and clenched but gained no relief. She rolled forward, pulling her chair closer to the desk and spreading your thighs wider over hers, as she stayed buried deep inside you.
You bit your lip, face burning. Three minutes passed, then five. You watched the gigantic hands of the clock beyond the glass tick by as Barbara typed one-handed, the other still barely stroking over your weeping clit.
Before the tenth minute, you caved. “I can’t help it… you’re so deep. Please, I need you to move—”
“Not yet.” Her tone was sweet but firm, the one that always made your stomach flip and she gave your hip a warning squeeze. “Sit on it a little longer, baby. Just keep me warm in this pretty pussy,” she said. When your bottom lip trembled, she turned her head and kissed you softly, the heel of her palm pressing down deliciously against your clit as you sobbed into her mouth.
“There’s my sweet girl,” Barbara whispered. “Warming my cock so good while I work… say it to me.”
You whimpered, clenching around her again. Your thighs trembled from holding the position for so long, as your pussy fluttered, begging for relief. “I’m… your sweet girl. Warming your cock so good, Babs.”
She smiled proudly at you and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, then turned back to her monitors like you weren’t impaled on her cock and dripping everywhere. Still, her voice never wavered on the comms. “Copy that. Keep me updated.”
You sat there trembling, waiting. The click-clack of her keyboard wasn’t anywhere near as loud as the heartbeat between your legs.
Eventually, you rocked your hips again, grinding down just enough to get friction on your clit and a soft moan slipped out before you could stop it. “I wanna cum, please… I’ve been good—”
“What did I say? Did you go dumb already ‘cause I’m stuffing you full?” Her hand reached up to grip your jaw, turning your face so you had to look at her eyes, all dark, amused, and full of heat.
You buried your face in her neck, breathing hard. “You’re so mean, Barbie…”
“Keep calling me that and I might just let you have it,” she warned, “but only after I finish this. So be patient.” Her free hand stroked your back gently while the other kept typing.
“Now quit squirming. The sooner I finish this, the sooner I can bend you over this desk and fuck you like you need it.”
Pairing: Wally West x gn!reader
Summary: You were both bad for each other. It was time to put an end to this chapter of your lives.
CW: implied sex, mdni, crappy relationships (or situationships?)
WC: 0.6K
Leche's Note: Hey...hi it's me again I'm back. I have more fics planned I swear, but I promise I'll be more consistent :p
“Are you leaving?”
The words tumble out of his lips before he can stop himself from asking, eyes watery from your argument. Which one, he wants to ask. You’d both been arguing the past few weeks, and tonight it’d finally reached its boiling point. Both of you knew that, at least. That…whatever this was, it wouldn’t work.
You nod slowly, turning back to face him on his porch, the rain hitting hard enough to startle you a little bit. How ironic—usually when it rained, it meant you’d end up in his arms again. Crossing your arms over your chest, you look him up and down. God, he was a mess.
His fiery red hair looked almost as ashen as his face, features crumpled into a frown so pathetic you almost consider going right back to him. You couldn’t, you knew that too. That going right back to his bed meant you’d repeat this cycle all over again, and you couldn't go through that again. No matter how many times he swears this time would be different.
“I have to, Wally. We’re not…we’re not good for each other.” You tell him quietly, your voice breaking him out of his spiralling thoughts. You still looked good. Good in a messed up, tired way, which hurt his heart even more. All he wanted was to pull you back into his orbit, to keep you with him. But as Mercury circles the Sun, he knows you’d eventually burn in his heat, and you’d both end up here all over again.
“Please. We have to try, don’t we? I know I’ve been fucking shitty but—” He chokes, voice wavering as he finally buries his face in his hands, trying to contain all his emotions again. You were leaving. You were leaving, after spending all of last night in his bed, claiming you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. How could you? How could you be selfish enough to pull away when things stopped working, but come right back to him when it settles down again?
You move, but hesitate, hands about to reach for his face, to soothe his worries. Steeling yourself, you pull back again, hands balling into fists to stop yourself from grabbing him, from falling right back into your normal rhythm. Normal. How could this possibly be normal? Normalcy usually doesn’t entail arguments and burnout.
Shaking your head again, you scoff, stepping back, closer to the pouring rain than him. The weather is humid, but the chill hits you faster than you’d like. You look at him one more time, memorizing his features. His green eyes, his shaggy hair, the freckles that threatened to take over his entire face.
“I have to leave. We…this is for the best, West.” You murmur, trying not to tear up, brows scrunched together in your effort to stick to your decision. Part of you wanted to say his name one more time, to memorialize it on your tongue. But it felt bitter in your mouth, and you knew like a fly to honey, you’d end up back in his arms again, so you couldn’t do this. You also knew, in the long run, this would be for the best. So, you finally get off his porch, walking into the cold of the night, even with the rain pouring hard.
He watches, one last time, from his porch. And for the first time since you’d both begun circling each other, he knows you’ll never climb up his front steps, never enter his house, or his bed again. He just has to hope it’ll be alright in the end.
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Taglist: @cinnamon-girl-writes, @smllvlle, @splodencible, @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger, @stilestotherescue, @sowhatifimslow, @nightwingblvd, @vianawaits, @pixelbfs
what a match, i'm half doomed and you're semi-sweet !!
half doomed — popular!roy harper. certified ladies man, captain of the archery team, drummer, engineering major
semi-sweet — nerd!reader. never been kissed, dungeon master, never ending tbr, top of the class
1. chapter one: natural 20
roy harper — who has been crushing on you since forever — is finally brave enough to woo you. the problem? you have crippling anxiety and can't seem to understand why he wants to hang out with you so bad.
2. chapter two: don't delete the kisses
you’re feeling down. it’s roy’s duty to cheer you up — and really, what better way than a trip to the comic book store?
3. chapter three: red ultra-hot chilli peppers
you promised you'd spend more time with him — so today, you're accompanying him at his soundcheck and meeting his family.
4. chapter four: better off as lovers!
a moment of realization makes you distance yourself from roy, though your heart can't get rid of him that easily.
dividers by @/pixopix & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more
summary: a moment of realization makes you distance yourself from roy, though your heart can't get rid of him that easily.
content: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, reader has a moment of epiphany that makes them go crazy, reader makes roy sad :( might be a bit bad sorry!!, ft. wally donna & dick!
wc: 2.7k
a/n: once again i am late. you guys are allowed to tickle me if you ever see me irl.
part one | part two | part three
You're the first person he searches for.
As he clashed the cymbals and beat his drums, his eyes dissected the entire crowd, landing and staying on the person he hoped with all his heart would come: you. His favourite person for the past few months, the person replacing all of the thoughts in his mind. And unfortunately, the person who's been ignoring him for a whole week.
Days had gone by with ignored text messages, with those texts varying from long, semi-emotional texts to short questions about your well-being. With each text that was ignored, his heart ached from worry and insecurity. Questions of your current well-being and his actions that could've caused this flooded his mind, adding to his growing worry.
Those thoughts led to one last text message he left last night. 'I hope you come to my gig.'
And there you were, standing in the far back, holding a cup of whatever while you watched him play. Your face was devoid of any expression, watching him with a blank stare and lips pressed into a tight line.
He didn't let it mess with his head. That night, he played better than he's ever played.
— ONE WEEK AGO.
"You look fine. Pretty, even." Roy chuckled, glancing at you as you checked your teeth for the umpteenth time in the vanity mirror. You were now aware of never asking Roy how you looked; he was always going to say you looked pretty. It was one of those sweet things that became annoying over time.
You swore you could still feel some remnants of the veggies you ate earlier lodged in the gaps of your teeth, hence why your finger was still nudged in your mouth, trying to find where the salad was, as it muffled your speech. "I cou hill heel ik!" You muffled, straightening your posture once again to look in the mirror.
A few moments later, you proved Roy wrong. There was, in fact, a small bit of salad stuck between your molars. Before leaving the car, you took one last look at yourself in the mirror. You were going to meet his friends today, and you were determined to impress them.
They were pretty popular on campus. A wallflower like you heard a few rumours here and there, but still knew well enough not to let those rumours cloud your judgement. After all, giving Roy a chance at that house party made him become your partner, your significant annoyance.
You walked into the bar with him, looking around to take in the atmosphere. It was probably a little fancier than the usual dive bars people you knew frequented. You wouldn't know — you've stepped into many taverns filled with pointy-eared humans and those with skin painted in bright greens or purples, but not actual bars that served alcoholic drinks. Mentally, you thank Roy for not making you remain a total dork.
"Theeerreee he is!" A voice boasted, lifting his arm to direct the two of you to a booth in the far end corner of the bar. He was another ginger, tall and a little bit lankier than Roy. His hair was curly, face peppered with visible freckles. You finally recognise him to be none other than Wally West.
Surprisingly, you've talked to Wally a few times before due to common interests. Hell, in freshman year, you hated him for stealing your spot in the college's e-sports team (which, to be frank, he earned fair and square.)
"Oh, hey!" He grinned, dabbing you up with so much energy you wondered if he had super speed. "Haven't talked to you in a while, dude." He said, throwing his arm around your shoulder to walk you closer to the gang.
"Wally, can you let them breathe first?" Says the only girl in the group, staring at him with the familiar look of siblingly annoyance. "Ignore him, he's just excited to have someone new on the table."
Donna, like Wally, was familiar to you, too. She was the first person most clubs scoured to hire whenever pictures needed to be taken. A semester ago, your D&D club booked her to be the photographer for your annual meeting. By some magic miracle, she managed to make your club look cool.
"Mhm." The guy next to her nods. You'd be living under a rock if you say you didn't know him. Dick Grayson was the campus heartthrob — you've seen him pretty much everywhere, with your favourite appearance of his being the one where his entire face was on a huge banner in front of the accounting faculty. He wasn't even learning accounting.
Roy eventually rolled his eyes, pulling you closer to him by the collar of your shirt. He took the chance to jest, accepting the risk of being punched in the arm. "Guys, chill. Please. This is their first time interacting with human beings."
Of course, you punched him in the arm. "Dick." You huffed, to which Dick Grayson says, "Me?"
Donna snorts. "Anyways, where the hell's Garth?"
"Swim meet. Didn't you read the group?" Wally answered, reaching out to steal another one of her fries.
The rest of the night went well — more than well, really. They had you caught up with their inside jokes, told funny stories they would never stop repeating to new people they meet, and even talked about letting you join their future meetups. Even though you still preferred being alone in your room, the fact that they thought of inviting you was nice.
The sound of a microphone's feedback makes you wince, ruining the comfortable atmosphere of the conversation. You turned around, seeing a girl on a stage with a TV above her head, displaying the lyrics to the song she was about to sing.
Roy had brought you to a karaoke bar.
When you turned to face him, you were met with a pout and pleading puppy eyes. "No," you said, immediately turning him down. "There's no way in hell am I going up there to sing, Harper."
A few moments later, you sat at the table, watching Roy belt out an old eighties love ballad, unable to hit a single note. He caressed the microphone stand, moving with nothing but unadulterated passion. For a second, his eyes found yours, flustering you before you looked away.
You weren't the only one to have noticed that. Beside you, Wally eyed you with a suggestive smirk. The redhead nudged Dick, "Think he's got anyone in mind, Dicky?"
"Oh, definitely." Dick laughed, also looking at you for a moment. The four friends broke into quiet laughter, sending suggestive looks your way, implying something you didn't know.
"Why the heck are you guys looking at me like that?" you asked, looking at them as you fidgeted with the edge of your cup.
Donna chuckled, answering with a sarcastic shrug. "Oh, I dunno, maybe the fact Roy's pretty much in love with you?"
That made your heart drop. Not in a good way. A dam in your head broke, flooding your head with thoughts that weakened your nervous system. Roy Harper. In love with you? You face the man on the stage again, watching him as he practically humps the microphone stand with how passionate he's singing. You suddenly felt physically sick, unable to process that statement even if they meant it as a joke.
Roy Harper, in love with you? The change of perspective felt too sudden. Your body went limp as if you'd been hit by a high-speed bullet train. The way you see everything he's done for you changes — from the Renaissance Faire to the dance in Ollie's kitchen.
To you, it was still ridiculous. It didn't make sense. The mere thought of him loving you more than a friend felt as impossible as the concept of time travel itself. The polaroid girl's face is etched in your mind, being the voiceless figure that reminds you to never fall for Roy Harper, because he doesn't go for geeks like you. You're not his type, and you never will be.
Yet… why does it make sense? That would be the answer to his kindness towards you, the reason behind why Roy would've pushed everything aside just to see a smile on your face, even if it was only for a second.
Common sense was pushed aside as the anxieties in your head grew stronger. It protected you as much as it harmed you. It reminded you to be aware of who you were, plaguing your thoughts with deeply rooted insecurity while simultaneously keeping you away from potential heartbreak. Deep in your bones, you felt insurmountable guilt for making Roy seem like he liked you.
Before you could even think, your legs walked you out of the bar.
— PRESENT DAY.
Roy wipes the sweat off his forehead, eyes squinting as he takes the handkerchief off his face, blinded by the bright spotlight shining on him. His gaze returns to the direction of the crowd, blinking the sunspots away for a few moments before seeing you again, still in the same position.
He reached down to grab his water bottle, taking a big gulp to moisturise his throat that dried at the sight of you. He hadn't practised what to say to you — he didn't even think you'd show up.
With a deep breath, Roy walked off the stage, pushing through the dense crowd with polite 'excuse me's. Once he was finally standing in front of you, everything seemed to be quiet. He couldn't hear the sound of the crowd, just his heart beating so hard and fast he was sure he could die of cardiac arrest right then and there.
"Hey," was the first thing he could think of. He stands motionless, his eyes looking at you with the now-familiar softness he's only used for you.
"Hi." You greeted, also not knowing what to say. Was 'Hey, my insecurities are rooted so deeply in my soul that I thought I was a terrible person for making people think we were dating. Sorry.' too straightforward? Probably.
"I'm really glad you came." He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I thought you weren't gonna show up."
"It was a last-minute decision." You replied truthfully, suddenly finding the floor to be an interesting sight.
Those words made his heart break a little. Even though you were standing here in front of him, it wasn't your initial choice. "Right," he forced a laugh to detensify the atmosphere, but nothing seemed to help. "Look, just… Let's cut to the chase and talk, can we?"
You've been dreading this. Since your arrival here was a spontaneous decision, you came unprepared, unsure of what to say to him. "Yeah. Sure. Outside?"
A tumbleweed rolls by the two of you as you stood outside the bar. Figuratively.
It's so silent you could hear each thump of your heart, thrashing against your ribcage as you waited for him to speak. Roy looks as unsure as you are, judging by his clammy hands and the way he was tapping his feet. After a full sixty-three seconds — yes, you were counting — you broke the silence. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
You should've known better; it was an extremely stupid thing to say to a man who's been suffering over the lack of your presence. Roy's mouth opens at first, but he's immediately at a loss for words. For the first time in your friendship with him, he's letting himself be angry at you. "Are you kidding me?" he sighed, crossing his arms. "Is there anything for us to talk about except for the fact you've ghosted me for an entire week?"
Embarrassment renders you unable to speak.
Roy continues, doing all he can to hold back his anger and think clearly for you. "We do everything together. Everything." He bit his lip, finding his words, "I just want to know what made you stop wanting that."
Your reaction was immediate. You finally face him, using up all your willpower to look into his eyes. "No, Roy… I want that. I do, it's just—"
"Just what? What the hell happened to you that made you stop answering all my texts? If it's me, then just tell me—"
"It's not you!" You answered, rubbing your face in frustration. "And nothing happened..."
"So tell me. Tell me why I've been ignored this entire week by the only person I care about on this stupid campus." Those words came out before he could even reconsider them, but he didn't care. For you to know just how bad your absence had affected him, you needed to know the truth.
You couldn't answer that. At least, not in a way that wouldn't have hurt him. "I… I guess I wanted you to spend less time with someone like me?"
His expression doesn't seem to change. He's still looking at you with narrowed eyes and a gaze so charged with anger it burned on your skin. "Someone like you?"
"Y'know, me. A total geek everyone laughs at? Someone who can't dress even if their life depended on it? Someone who's the literal opposite of cool?"
His look softens. It doesn't turn sympathetic — the anger remained, but there was slightly less than before. "So what, just because you feel insecure, you'd throw away everything we had? You're really gonna let your head win?" He asked, not really expecting you to answer. "I get self-sabotaging, I really do. But are you not even gonna try to fight it? For us? For me? For your own, self-proclaimed loser self?"
You slumped against the nearby wall of the building, closing your eyes. "Guess I wasn't."
He scoffed, leaning next to you. "Y'know, D&D weekends and ren faires don't make you a loser. Quitting does." He stated, uncrossing his arms. "You know I don't care, right? I genuinely don't give a single flying fuck about what people think of me. If I woke up tomorrow to people throwing tomatoes at me just because I hang out with you, I wouldn't care. You mean more to me than that."
As your eyes remained closed during the onslaught of emotions you felt at the moment, you felt the ghost of his hand next to yours. Slowly, his fingers laced with yours, holding your hand firmly — his way of saying he wasn't going to let go. "I'll hold onto you. I'm not gonna let you run away and actually become a loser who quits."
You kick his leg. He smiles.
"There you are." He hummed, pulling you closer by your intertwined hands. "My favourite person to bother."
You couldn't help but let the smile force its way on your face. Roy Harper was the only person who could ever successfully crumble down the walls you've built around yourself. It's been that way since he first met you at the house party that seemed so long ago now.
"You're the coolest person I know, y'know that?"
"Roy—'"
"You are. I love it when you talk about your campaigns or your favorite supervillains. It's cool." he murmured, those words reserved just for you. "And I think your geeky shirts are cool too. They're vintage. They suit you well."
Seeing the way you were reluctantly taking in those words, he considered his mission of convincing you to have some self confidence a success. "C'mon," he smiled, tugging you inside the building. "You need some music in your veins."
Another band had taken over the stage, playing a punky rendition of a twenty-tens love song you've heard on the radio a long time ago. In the warm, low lights of the bar, you let your eyes wander around his face. You find a few things you didn't initially notice, like the small scar on his right cheek or the small mole under his jaw, hidden in the subtle dust of orange stubble.
Rather than halting your thoughts before they had the chance to become less than platonic, you let them happen. You let yourself blush when he turns to smile at you. You let your heartstrings tug when he puts his arm around your shoulder, needing you closer.
That night, you let yourself fall for him, without thinking about yourself or the polaroid left forgotten in his car.
extra scene:
You and Roy were holding separate microphones, waiting for the lyrics to kick in. The smirk remained on his face, even when you gave him a death glare. You would've killed him if your body wasn't incapacitated by terrible stage fright.
"You areee… my fiiiireee…" He started, lips way too close to the microphone. It was unhygienic, but there wasn't much you could do when it came to Roy Harper.
"The one, deeesiiiireee…" You continued, stiff as a pole, as your eyes darted aroundthe crowd, trying your best to ignore Donna's phone trained on you and Roy.
Roy turns to you, far too excited to be singing Backstreet Boys. It was to a point where he had you genuinely wonder if he was drunk. "Believe, when I say…"
In tandem, the two of you sang. "I waaant it thaaat way."
likes & reblogs appreciated !!
stars by @/pixopix, drumsticks by @/mouseygraphics
roy harper x fem!reader, smut? guys idk what this is, i had a vision last night and wrote it all in 10 mins
Sharing a bed with Roy Harper is hell. He’s two hundred pounds of pure muscle laying beside you, making it impossible to escape his warmth.
You shouldn’t be sharing a bed with him, and you definitely shouldn’t be letting your fingers slip beneath your panties while imagining him pressing you against the wall, your back against his bare chest as he whispers filthy things in that husky voice.
A tiny whine slips out of you. It's a traitorous little sound that makes your eyes fly open.
“Dude," Roy's voice is low and hushed, but his amusement is clear when you feel his gaze on you.
You squeeze your eyes shut. Embarrassment floods hot over your skin, tangled up with frustration. Your breaths come out uneven and heavy. You don’t turn to look at him.
“Go to sleep,” you grit out, wanting to cry from the mess of emotions swirling inside you.
He snorts. “Hell no.”
The bed dips under his weight as he scoots closer. The room’s dark enough that you can barely make out his face, but you can still see that infuriating grin tugging at his mouth, like he’s proud of himself.
“This all for me?” he asks, wrapping a hand around your wrist where your fingers still are.
“I—no. Course not,” you mutter weakly.
He hums. Then he pulls your fingers into his mouth and sucks.
He moans, shamelessly. “Taste so fucking good, baby.” His eyes are glued to yours, his tongue drags along your fingers.
He doesn’t look away from you once.
“Roy,” you breathe out shakily, throat dry and lips parted.
“Lemme help, doll.” He lets your hand go and shifts until he’s hovering over you, one hand brushing along your side, his eyes carrying that dangerous glint that always manages to turn you on.
“Yeah, sure,” you mumble casually, trying to stay composed, though the act doesn’t last long.
roy harper x reader, suggestive, ac: tokibangart on ig
"Stay still," you mutter as you dust baby powder messily over his forehead. You'd been bored and Roy had been lying all over you, complaining about a boy Lian is friends with. Somehow, that had turned into you using him as practice for your threading skills.
"Hard to do that when you're sittin' on me like this," his voice is low, strained in a way that makes you grin.
You're straddling him, the insides of your knees pressing against his sides. Once you place the powder down, you pick up the thread and squint at it, trying to remember the five minute tutorial you'd watched earlier.
"This is how they do it when you get yours done?" Suspicion laces his voice as if he thought the answer would piss him off.
You roll your eyes. "No, but this is more effective."
"Now, hush, this might hurt," you add.
"It already hurts," he mumbles, eyes flickering to his crotch.
"Suck it up—
You know you've made a mistake when his lips pull up into a sly grin.
"Gotta better idea, how bout you suck—
You put your hand over his mouth. "Only if you behave." You tell him, eyes narrowed.
His eyes light up as if you just promised him heaven. And, he doesn't even lick your hand.
Satisfied, you start threading his brows the way the video had shown you. The first time you do it, he flinches.
"Fuck—Babe, no way you do this shit willingly." His hand moves to your hips, pressing you down on him a bit more.
Your breath catches when you feel him hard beneath you.
“Roy,” you warn, trying your best not to push everything to the side and just kiss him.
“What?” he says innocently, though the smug look on his face ruins it. “I’m in pain, need comfort."
“Quit whining, honey.” You lean down to press a quick kiss to his lips before going back to his eyebrows. Roy groans, yet when you glance down at him, he’s staring up at you with adoration written all over his face.
