#roy harper reader insert

You honestly couldn’t tell what stung more - the bare skin of your arms from the wind chill, the corners of your eyes from holding in your tears, or the vice grip clenched around your heart. Your eyes were bleary, smudging the rays emanating from the lampposts in the dark street, half from watery lids and half from the booze. You had felt stupid going into the bar, but you felt even stupider walking out.

Roy was so convincing, his voice that low, sultry yet saccharine rumble that stripped you of all defenses - and more often than not, your clothes too. Whispering in your ear how fun the night would be, no babe they are gonna love you, it’s just a casual hang. 

He had plenty of persuasive practice: after all, it had taken him a couple of weeks to sway you to go out with him in the first place. You were older, not by too much, but still, it frayed your ego a bit. Roy still had that boyish look on his face when he smirked, eyes not yet worn with crow’s feet. He was extroverted, energized and popular. You had a timidness that lurked behind your stare and liked to be in bed by 10pm. When he had asked you out initially, you assumed he was shooting his shot at anything with a pulse and a pair of tits. But as you came to understand only too well, once Red Arrow set his sights on a target, he wasn’t going to miss. So you relented, and under his playful exterior, you discovered a sincere, soft-hearted core that you had grown to love over the last year you had been together. 

Which is why you finally agreed to go to the bar with him in the first place. The Titans, previously Teen, were having a reunion hang. Roy had insisted you accompany him, sweet-talking you for at least a week about his desire to show off his smokin’ hot girl. 

“What am I gonna do without my arm candy?” He had teased, pinching your side before sidling up to you to speak more sincerely. “Like I said, princess, I’ve known these fuckers for way too long. They’re going to love you. You’ve got nothin’ to worry about. So let me show off my pretty girl, hm?” 

So you believed him, and despite the anxiety brewing in your abdomen, you agreed to go. Spent way too long choosing the pieces of your outfit, something that screamed ‘casual’ and ‘too cool’ even though it was selected with extreme scrutiny. Dolled yourself up to look effortless, even though you fretted over every detail. Roy looked annoyingly mouthwatering as always in his torn up jeans and holey shirt, which were almost certainly pulled from the dirty laundry pile. You knew he dug your look too. After all, he told you so about a dozen times and the two of you barely made it out of your apartment, despite his best efforts to trap you in the bedroom. 

As you strode into the bar, a fashionable fifteen minutes late, you picked incessantly at your cuticles, but Roy’s broad hand splayed out on your lower back in reassurance. Even in the dank atmosphere, at once, Roy spotted one of his colleagues and used the comforting pressure of his palm to steer you towards the table. 

A young woman - certainly younger than you - sat by herself at the large booth, throwing up an easy wave as she recognized the two of you. Well, Roy at least. 

As you approached the table, you really started to drink her in. Gorgeous, silky jet black hair that you swore was shimmering, even in the shitty bar lighting. She could be the poster girl for a Pantene commercial. As she stood to shake your hand across the table, you thought ‘shit, she could be a Victoria’s Secret model.’ A tall, tight figure like she had been sculpted, chiseled straight from marble. Her plush lips spread in a sincere, breathtaking smile that pulled her sharp cheekbones to her temples when Roy ushered you into the booth. 

“You must be Y/N!” She said, her voice bright like a windchime. “Roy has told us so much about you. I am so excited to finally meet you!”

At this, Roy’s hand squeezed around the curve of your waist and you smiled, letting out a sheepish, unknowingly held breath as you cast your gaze to your folded hands. Recognizing your shyness, Roy spoke first, throwing a sweet smile your way.

“The very same. This is Donna, uh Diana’s counterpart.” He said his voice dropping quieter, not wanting to reveal her secret identity to the bar eavesdroppers. Although, Roy had said that they had picked this place because the owners were particularly discreet.

“It’s really nice to meet you.” You said, bashfully. 

Roy had told you about Donna before, an integral participant in many of his lighthearted Titan stories that he had regaled you with. Once, he briefly mentioned that the two of them had dated, a fleeting detail that had stuck in your mind. You had figured she was beautiful. Duh. She was Themysciran - an Amazon. But seeing her live and animated in front of you pulled that detail back to the forefront of your mind as she regarded you with a captivating smile. 

At the subtle but noticed pause, Roy cleared his throat to speak again.

“Drinks?” He suggested to the table, his head on a swivel between you and Donna. He placed a warm hand on the bend of your knee.

“Yes please!” Donna agreed with an exclamation, rising from her seat.

Roy leaned in to give you a gentle kiss on the cheek. His presence firm, but reassuring, almost like his body was whispering: “I’m here.”

“I know what you like.” He said with a wink. “Let me buy you a drink, hot stuff.”

The compliment in his smooth, flirtatious tone broke a chuckle out of you, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly awkward as you watched the two of them angle towards the bartender. The worst part was there was nothing suggestive about it. They kept a friendly distance, chatting with each other in line like old friends - which they were, you reminded yourself. But seeing Donna, an absolute vision and more importantly Roy’s ex, joke with him so easily stoked the insecure flame inside of you.

Drinks were a great idea. Once they had returned to the table, you took a healthy sip, feeling the slight burn of the alcohol spread throughout your stomach. You listened to them chat about their respective mentors as you took generous swallows, feeling yourself gradually let go of your anxiety like loosening your grip on a weighted balloon. 

Shortly after, you heard the jingle of the bells tied to the bar handle. You were on the tail end of a giggle when you saw Donna’s eyes light up, trained on the entrance. You craned your head to see the rest of the gang meander through.

At the forefront, a lean yet built figure, onyx hair in a tousled mop. As you followed the strands dangling over his forehead, you were met with alluring blue eyes. They were so pretty that it was nearly excruciating to hold his gaze. You averted your eyes almost instantly. 

Dick Grayson, surely. Roy craned his head around with a jovial scoff, muttering an incomprehensible insult under his breath. 

Dick’s arm was wrapped around a brilliantly tall woman, taller than Donna even, with amber skin and voluminous auburn curls that cascaded down to her ankles. The glow of her neon green eyes brightened at the sight of her former colleagues. Your eyes widened slightly at her appearance. She was truly breathtaking, and not just from her exotic otherworldliness. 

As Dick and presumably Starfire, or Koriand’r, queued up to the bar, their figures parted way to reveal the remainder of the gang bringing up the caboose. Another boy, his posture slightly bent forward in timidness, violet eyes scanning the hazy room. Surely the Atlantean prince, formerly known as Aqualad: Garth. From what Roy had told you, you thought that you and Garth would get along quite well, affirmed further by the reserved smile that he cast you upon noticing your presence. And last but certainly not least, the other ginger, who was in the middle of talking Garth’s ear off before he recognized Roy and charged over with enthusiasm printed all over his freckled face. 

“The party’s here!” Wally announced, holding two thumbs to his chest. “How’s it goin’, Speedy? I assume this beautiful thing sitting next to you is your new lady.”

Your nose wrinkled slightly at the word ‘new’, but you hadn’t time to dwell on it as Wally leaned over the back of the booth to plant a sloppy wet kiss on your cheek. While you were slightly stunned at his audacity, you watched Roy give him a forceful shove to the chest.

“Did you wanna announce our identities to the whole neighborhood?” He growled without much heat behind his words, a smile threatening to break through his lips. “And yes, this is my girl. Which means paws off.” 

Wally rubbed his torso where Roy’s palm had struck him, laughing openly and loudly with a contagious mirth. He was still chuckling as he turned around to join the rest of the gang in line at the bar. Donna returned your wide-eyed expression with a genuine smile. The combination of surprise and booze brought a flushed heat to your face. Roy brushed a stray hair from your face, giving your cheek a gentle but reverent pinch as his friends eventually slid into the booth across from you.

The group of you talked and drank and talked and drank. Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be! As the liquor kept flowing, you found yourself laughing openly at the stories passed between vigilantes, liquid courage building enough to fit in a quip or two in appropriate moments which pulled a laugh from the crowd. At one point, Dick nearly spit out his drink at a snarky comment that you had made, which put you on cloud nine for the next fifteen minutes.

As the night drew on, the boys naturally gravitated towards the games. Wally was trying and miserably failing to show off pool trick shots to Garth, while Dick had challenged Roy to a game of darts, some comment about having better aim igniting Roy’s competitive streak. He left your side with a squeeze to your shoulder and kiss on the side of your neck, promising he’d be back as soon as he kicked Dick’s ass.

You were more than content to chat with the girls. At this point in the evening, Donna felt like an old friend and Kori was frankly impossible not to like. They made you feel included, like you weren’t just Roy’s plus one but part of the company. Which is why when Kori suggested tequila shots, your defenses were lowered enough to agree despite your usual better judgement.

Your eyes were fixed on the short curls by Kori’s temple which bounced merrily as she threw the shot back, looking unfairly gorgeous even as she was sputtering from the acrid well drink. Donna let out a loud bark of laughter at Kori’s reaction.

“Aw come on, Star,” she wheezed in between chuckles. “That was a baby shot. We’ve gotta get you drunk enough that you’re locking lips with the barkeep to ‘learn his language.’” 

“That was one time.” Kori muttered, her green eyes narrowed in annoyance that was betrayed by a slight smile on her lips.

Regardless, Donna held up her hand, bangles around her wrist jingling joyfully, to order another round. As three more shots were poured, you cast a glance over to the other side of the room. There, you caught sight of your man. His face was reddened from libation as he bickered playfully with the other guys, twirling a pool cue in his grip. As if he could sense your eyes upon him, his gaze shifted to meet yours and he threw you a wink, which made you giggle like a schoolgirl, before returning to his conversation.

The second shot went down easier than the first, but you felt the effects immediately. You had wandered from a pleasant buzz into drunk territory, but as you pivoted between your new friends, you couldn’t help but feel excited to be hanging out with a new group of gals. Roy was right - this evening was a good idea. Not that you’d ever let him know. You’d never live that down.

Looking between Donna and Kori, you were slightly relieved that you weren’t the only one affected by the alcohol. Kori swayed with a slight rhythm, her long fingers playing with the edge of the coaster. Donna’s face had gone loose along with her inhibitions. 

“Goddds, do you remember when the guys broke the front window of Titans Tower?” Donna asked Kori, a slight slur to her tone.

Starfire threw her head backwards, lips pulled into a huge smile as she laughed boisterously. The sound was borderline magical. 

“And then the flying disc was no longer allowed!” Kori finished the story off, still giggling. “So they played with that small little bag of sand.”

A grin was plastered on your face, not only at Kori’s adorable vernacular, but thinking about the group of men in the corner of the bar as young boys caught red-handed with a broken window. You tried to imagine Batman, arms crossed, holding a frisbee and banning its presence from the house. 

“Ugh, Roy and that stupid hackeysack.” Donna said, slapping her palm to her forehead. “He was obsessed with that stupid thing. Every time he slept over in my room, he brought it with him.” 

As your brain slowly processed the words, you felt your smile falter, just a bit. But you pushed the feeling to the back of your mind, determined to continue getting along with your new friends. They had dated, you knew this. No big deal.

“Yes!” Kori agreed, with glee. “I was always fighting the sack for his attention. Even laying unclothed in bed, he was focused on that toy instead of me!”

At this, the discomfort returned, its presence front and center of your mind. An unwelcome fourth member at the table. You felt your eyebrows furrow, before making a conscious yet assuredly obvious effort to fix your face to as neutral as possible.

“You and Roy were like… a thing?” You asked, with as much nonchalance as you could muster. Thankfully, your words were falling on drunk ears. 

“Oh yes.” Kori said, with a dramatic yet fond eye roll. “After I rescued him from a jail cell in Qurac.”

You felt the anxiety creeping back into your gut. Roy had mentioned his past relationship with Donna, but never told you that he had dated Kori. A Tamaranean princess. Literal royalty sitting in front of you. Your eyes darted to the corner of the bar but all you saw were the back of the guys’ heads as they argued over… something. Why wouldn’t he have mentioned that to you?

“Ugh, did Roy ever do that thing where he’d rub your shoulders after a mission?” Donna asked, eyebrows pulled up her forehead. 

Suddenly you felt very outside of the circle that you had assured yourself you had joined. Your incisors sank into your bottom lip. 

“Just to get you into bed?” Kori finished her thought, yet again. 

Donna laughed, clapping her hands in agreement. You bit down harder, tasting the metallic aftermath of blood. 

“Some shoulder rub. ‘Babe, you must be so tired, let me help’ for a thirty second massage that felt more like an attaboy.” Donna finished, laughter interrupting her sentences.

Your mind reeled through the Rolodex of moments that you shared with your archer, desperately searching to see if you could remember a time that he had massaged your shoulders. But honestly, you couldn’t remember let alone concentrate on anything other than the thought that everyone sitting at your table had slept with your boyfriend. It felt shameful, embarrassing. And it was choking you out.

“I wonder if he ever pulled that move on Jade.” Kori pondered outwardly which sent Donna into another fit of giggles.

“Hard to imagine Cheshire falling for that, but Lian had to get here somehow.” Donna replied which spurred Kori on further.

You felt invisible, which honestly you would have preferred if you didn't feel the heat boiling underneath the skin of your face. You took it back: this was a terrible idea. You never should have come here in the first place.

“God, what a slut.” Donna teased, making an uncoordinated grab for her drink.

As Kori laughed harder, you tried to muster a giggle for camouflage but felt only acid rising in the back of your throat. Suddenly, the room was too hot, the clothing you had chosen too constricting. You needed air, sooner rather than later, but mostly you needed out. 

“And who knows what he’s been doing with Jason on those long weekend missions...” Kori replied with a mischievous tone, waggling an eyebrow.

Donna broke into a chorus of snickers and you planted both palms on the table, hoisting yourself to a standing position. Kori and Donna reacted in mild surprise at your sudden movements, but their response was mollified by their intoxication. You brushed your hands off on your shirt, nearly tipping over a full glass of water as you reached for your purse.

“Sorry, uh, I forgot,” you said, swallowing in the middle of your sentence. When did the air get so damn thick in here? “I have something I need to take care of. Urgently. For work. I’m, uh, gonna head out. It was nice to meet you guys.”

You started shuffling out of the booth, urging your boneless legs to coordinate and get you the hell out of here as quickly as possible. Kori gave a small pout, her expression drooping at the announcement of your sudden departure. Donna swallowed the remainder of the liquid in her glass, throwing her hands up in opposition.

“Wait! Don’t go yet!” She exclaimed. “It’s so fun talking to you!”

You gave her an unconvincing shrug, more collapsing in on yourself in shame than anything. 

“I know, I know,” you replied. “It was really nice getting to know you guys too. I just… I gotta go.”

You nearly sighed in relief as you freed yourself from behind the table. You fumbled with the string of your purse, reeling in the body of the bag like you were pulling up a crab pot until the clutch was finally in your hands. You plunged your fingers inwards, searching desperately for your wallet. 

“Wait, aren’t you going home with Roy?” Kori asked, tilting her head.

You gave her a weak wave to brush her off, trying to channel a casual expression but your main focus was on not bursting into tears. Where was your damn wallet?

“I’ll send him a text on the way home. Don’t wanna bother him when he’s having fun with the boys.” You replied, billfold finally within the grip of your fingertips. “It was really nice to meet you guys. Have a great night.”

Your legs took you automatically to the counter, handing your credit card over in mindless motions. You would have forgotten it at the bar if it weren’t for the bartender that reminded you to pick it up from the tacky table top before you left. 

Your impulse forced one last look over your shoulder, where you spotted Roy, laughing, his head thrown back. He looked so natural in this environment, surrounded by his friends and the people who knew the life he lived and loved him for it. It made your heart clench in all the wrong ways, and against your will, you memorized the scene before stumbling through the front door. 

The heels of your shoes clicked uncomfortably on the city sidewalk, and you strode, head down, watching your uncoordinated steps pass the seams of the cement. And honestly, you couldn’t care less.

You couldn’t care less that it was dangerous, that it was stupid. You couldn’t care less that you were isolated and alone, walking in the pitch black margins between street lamps. Your poor mind couldn’t even coordinate what it was so upset about, so torn up for. So you just kept walking, each foot ahead of the other but crooked, unintentionally throwing your weight from side to side. 

You wanted to cry, but you wanted to puke, but mostly you just wanted to be home in your bed. You thought about calling a cab, but the sting of the night’s air was the most perfect punishment for the fucked up night you had endured so you trodded further. One uncoordinated footstep in front of the other. God. You wished you had a cigarette.

In the bar, Roy felt the laughter ripping out of him effortlessly, bubbling right over his built up walls and aged defenses like no time had passed since he was pre-pubescent. Wally was making him snort. He was picking meaningless fights for a laugh with Dick like old times. He felt like himself again. For the first time in, god, fucking forever. 

And the best part? He didn’t feel fractionated anymore. No - he was whole. His girl was there. His person, the most perfect woman he had ever laid eyes on, who knew and understood and incredulously, loved his faults. He felt similarly disarmed when he first met you: the walls eroding and self-preservation coming down whether he liked it or not, no liquor required. You had that effect on him, like nobody he had ever met. 

In the high of his exuberance, with his cheeks flushed with booze and mirth, his body loose with inebriation and comfort of old friends, Roy tossed his head over his shoulder to gaze at you in your brilliance - drunken not with alcohol necessarily but the high of a good time and the itch to keep it afloat - looking for his girl. His sweetheart, his everything.

So when his eyes finally focused to find Kori and Donna sitting alone, a wave of sobriety shimmered upon him. His vigilance returning, unwelcome, shocking him into a tipsy, disorientated surveillance of the dive bar. He couldn’t interpret a lot of what he was making out but most importantly, none of it was you. So, he stopped in the middle of his sentence to Garth, Wally, and Dick, marching over to the table with newfound sobriety.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked, essentially demanded. Any slur to his words was gone, and he was speaking with distinct clarity. Almost interrogative.

Kori flashed a look of shock, normally interwoven with her heart-on-her sleeve emotions but displayed openly with her inebriation. Donna started a bit at his presence, but sunk into a glumness that perplexed him.

“She said she was heading home, work project.” Donna explained. “I thought she texted you.”

At this, his hand snapped for his phone nestled within his back jeans pocket at record speed but found no notifications. His heart sunk a little further.

“So you’re telling me she just went home?” Roy asked, tampering down his temper as best as he could manage. “By herself? Alone?”

As he looked into Donna and Kori’s eyes, he saw the reflection of guilt, of knowing that they shouldn’t have let her go, but what were they going to do to stop her? As he gazed upon their wordlessness, he knew they were telling the truth and his beloved had set off into the night, alone.

Roy pulled the bill of his backwards cap lower toward the nape of his neck as he strode forward, knocking through the front door of the bar without even hearing the exclamation of the barkeep for his unpaid tab. As he burst through the entrance, he surveilled again, seeing no glimpse of his lover in the misty city night. Pivoting towards your apartment, he set out at a quickened pace.

Meanwhile, you walked, treading water through your thoughts and finding it harder and harder to keep the tears from breaking over the rim of your eyelashes. You had been walking for some time, so your apartment could only be a couple of blocks away. You sniffled loudly, nose running from the crispness of the night and tears leaking out, pulling your purse closer as you trod on. 

A set of rapid footsteps, slapping against the pavement in rapid succession, broke you from your thoughts, causing you to freeze. You swung your head around to identify the source but only succeeded in making yourself dizzy. The footsteps grew louder, and you realized with dread in your stomach that they were coming up from behind you. Great. Now you were going to have gone and gotten yourself ambushed in the dark street in the middle of the night. 

Though you had anticipated it, feeling the grasp of two hands on your shoulders still made you yelp out into the road. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping they would kill you quickly and get it over with, but as your body was turned around, unscathed, you cracked an eyelid to get a glimpse of your assailant. You realized with some shock that it was the slightly breathless form of your boyfriend that had captured you. 

“Hey!” Roy said, panting slightly. “Where the hell are you going?”

You could tell that he was upset and trying to conceal it, but shit, that made both of you. You pulled your shoulder out of his grip, turning back to continue walking, which only made his eyebrows furrow deeper. 

“Home.” You replied. You hadn’t snapped but weren’t particularly chipper either. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” He said, quickly catching up to walk beside you. “Drunk, by yourself, at half past midnight with no coat on.”

You didn’t reply to him, simply crossing your arms over your chest to guard the chilled skin of your arms. He let out a scoff, a clearly irritated noise at your lack of response, shaking his head slightly. Before you could continue your journey, he stepped in front of you, blocking your path. 

“Y/N.” He said, the ire evident in his tone which had lost all amusement. He tried to soften as much as he could. “What’s wrong, baby? Did something happen? Why did you leave the bar without telling me?”

It was your turn to make a snort of agitation. You attempted to brush past him, but the spread of his muscular arms caught you, placing you back in front of him. In the interrogation spotlight. You felt your face get hot, and couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment, anger, liquor, or something else.

“I’m just going home, Roy.” You repeated, refusing to meet his gaze.

“If you would have told me you wanted to go home, we would have left in an instant.” He retorted. “That’s no problem. What you can’t do is walk home in the dark, drunk, by yourself.”

He shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders, tossing it around your form, but you shoved the gesture off. Childish? Maybe. But you couldn’t stand to be enveloped in his scent right now. Not while you were thinking about that same smell soaked into the bed sheets of half of the damn bar. He clenched his teeth at your reaction, exhaling building rage though his nostrils. His hands found your shoulders again, and he gripped, hard. Not to where it hurt or would leave bruises, but enough that he commanded your attention. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He demanded. “What happened that’s got you all wound up like this?”

You tried to squirm from his grasp but he was too damn strong. The expended effort made you seethe harder. You shoved him with all of your weight in angst, but he barely moved an inch.

“Don’t worry about it.” You snarled. 

You should have left it at that, but the tequila was still dancing on your tongue, encouraging regret and instigation. “You can go ahead and go back to your other girlfriends.” 

The quiet fury on Roy’s face vanished into confusion. He cocked his neck in perplexity, and you dared to tilt your head upwards to meet his gaze. The glow of the yellow sodium lights illuminated his blonde lashes and the sprinkle of freckles over his forehead and across the bridge of his strong nose. He always had a way of looking unfairly gorgeous, which at this moment, just further pissed you off. 

“What are you talking about?” He asked, with genuine bewilderment. His fingers still held you outstretched in front of him.

You growled out a small, petulant noise of frustration, squeezing your eyes shut to ignore his pretty face. In peak juvenile behavior, you bit your lip and refused to answer him. He shook you in his grip ever so slightly. 

“Y/N. We’re not going home unless you talk to me.” He insisted. “What do you mean ‘my other girlfriends’?”

“Donna and Kori.” You snapped back with vitriol. “Throw Jade in there too. And whatever the hell you’re doing with Jason.”

Roy scoffed in disbelief, staring at your face scrunched in indignance. 

“I haven’t gone out with Donna or Kori since I was a teenager.” He clarified. “And I don’t want anything to do with Jason, trust me.”

“You never told me that you went out with Kori at all.” You shot back. If your gaze could burn through him, he would have been smoking.

“I didn’t even think about it.” He said. His voice was pitched high in disbelief. “We went out for what? A couple of months when I was fifteen? I didn’t think it was that big of a deal!”

“Well it is.” You said, finally wrenching yourself from his grip. You pulled your purse tighter over your shoulder and started off towards your apartment again. “I couldn’t sit at ‘Roy Harper’s Quick Fuck’ table anymore as the newest notch on your bedpost.” 

“Baby, please.” Roy pleaded, his footsteps trailing you once again. “I would never purposefully hide anything from you like that. And that’s not what this is - not what you are. Let’s talk about it. We can talk about all of my exes in excruciating detail. Whatever you want. Just please don’t go.”

After what seemed like hours of restraint, the dam amongst your eyelashes finally broke and tears dribbled freely down your cheeks, your bottom lip wobbling like you were a toddler scolded. You didn’t dare turn to look at him, knowing that the desperate look on his face would just stoke the angry, sad, guilty fire within your chest. 

“I just want to go home, Roy.” You replied, voice broken and thick with saliva. 

You finished the last leg of your tortuous voyage audibly crying in the evening air. As you plodded on, you still heard Roy’s footsteps following from several yards behind you, ensuring that you made it to your front door. He didn’t push further, didn’t try to convince you to stay, just watched you with a shattered expression until you were on your welcome mat. Digging through your bag, vision totally clouded over with tears, you finally found your key ring and let yourself in. 

The sound of the front door closing behind you felt to Roy like the lid of his coffin closing upon him. 

The morning sunlight beamed through your open curtains, sending a bolt of pain right to your temples. Squinting, you propped yourself up on one elbow. Looking down at yourself, you saw you were still in the clothes you went out in last night. Casting a glance to your full-length mirror, you saw mascara trails tracked in parallel down the sides of your face. You couldn’t remember falling asleep last night, but you must have passed out after sobbing eventually.

Closing your eyelids to guard from the electric rays of the sun, you palmed the bed sheets for your phone. Fingers wrapping around the brick, you pulled it to your face and clicked it on. 11% battery - Low Power Warning. Six missed text messages and a phone call from Roy.

You let your head hang like dead weight behind you. The tsunami of terrible emotions churned in your gut. 

Were you making too big of a deal out of this? At this point, you weren’t sure. You knew that it still bothered you that Roy had so many supermodel-esque lovers that you didn’t know about, and certainly didn’t make you feel any better about yourself. That being said, you couldn’t help but feel you may have slightly overreacted, spurred on by insecurity and tequila. The line of where your feelings were justified and you were making mountains out of molehills was a lot blurrier than you thought, even without a drink in your system.

Hugging your knees to your chest, you curled inward on yourself. Your head throbbed with your pulse and stomach swirled from lack of calories and last night’s poor choices. More than anything, you just wanted to run away. Especially from yourself. 

The next couple of days were no less excruciating. Back at work, you found yourself unable to focus, a smog of bad vibes smothering your mind from useful thought. You still couldn’t tease out your feelings even after days of ruminating on them. Roy’s texts still remained unanswered. Each night as you dragged yourself back to your apartment, you spent the night rolled up on the couch, trouble in your head and heart. 

The week following the night at the bar tortured Roy. He kept playing the night over and over in his head, wondering how things could have gone from so good to so fucked in an instant. He should have stayed by your side, he reprimanded himself. Not gotten swept up in Dick’s trash talk like they were boys again. Every couple of hours, he opened his messages app to see the read receipts burning back at him. Every so often, he typed another couple of messages out before pressing his thumb against the backspace to delete them.

Even worse: Lian noticed it, too. 

“Why are you sad, daddy?” Her little voice chimed from her car seat in the back of his truck. 

Gazing at her in the rear view mirror, he saw her concerned expression before gazing into his own sleep-deprived eyes. He quickly focused them on the road.

“I’m alright, trouble.” He said, not convincing himself nor his young daughter with his tone. 

She didn’t push the issue, but Roy could see her furrowed eyebrows in his peripheral vision as she stared at the side of his face. It made the guilt gnaw at his core even further. 

Later that night, Roy braced his hands against the bathroom counter, looking at his own worn expression. He hadn’t really slept since that night, certainly not well. His stubble was grown out, his hair was greasy, there were puffy bags under his eyes. Frankly, he looked like shit.

With an audible sigh, he stepped back out into the hallway. The door to Lian’s room was cracked, just as he left it after settling her into bed a half an hour ago. With his wide palm against the wood of the door, he pushed it open just slightly so that he could glance into the room. 

He was startled seeing Lian’s big brown eyes staring back at him in the glow of her princess nightlight. The comforter was tucked up to her nose, with her little hands clutching at its edge. She peered out into the dimness, with wide eyes trained on her father. Roy sighed once more, pushing open the door all the way so that he could step into the room and take a seat along the side of her bed. 

He brushed his thumb over her forehead, moving stray hairs out of her face. She blinked at him, her long dark eyelashes sweeping her cheeks.

“Can’t sleep?” He said, his voice soft. 

She shook her head in return, still tucked underneath the blankets. Roy stroked her head again. 

“Me neither.” He said, with a slight frown. 

Lian watched her father, and Roy knew that her observant little eyes had been drinking in his exhaustion all week. Watching him tear himself up on the inside. It was stressing her out. 

He pulled the corner of his lips up into a soft smile.

“Wanna go see grandpa?” He asked. 

At this, she lit up, nodding her head furiously. Roy chuckled at her enthusiasm, the first real moment of joy that he had experienced in a week. 

“Okay, trouble.” He replied. “Let’s go pack your backpack.”

As the sun finally disappeared behind the horizon, Oliver scrubbed his thumb over the back of his wife’s knuckles. With a tender squeeze, he brought the skin to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss just below her wedding ring that caused Dinah to sigh. Two chilled, crystal glasses of fine white wine adorned the table between them, forgotten by the lovers enjoying each other’s company in the evening. A mahogany and teak candle flickered, filling the air with a musky, delectable aroma. Just as he was about to open his mouth to speak, the bright beam of twin headlights bore through the living room blinds. 

Throwing his wife a skeptical look, Oliver Queen rose from the table. He hadn’t expected anyone pulling up into the driveway of Queen Mansion this late at night. As he heard the sound of footsteps approach his stoop, his hand circled around the upper limb of his bow which was tucked behind the doorway for cases such as this. Dinah watched her husband press his face to the peephole, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. 

When he pulled away with a confused, yet somehow delighted smirk, she felt her shoulders drop. His hand released its hold on the bow. Oliver opened the oak door.

“Well, well, well,” he said, smugly. “Looks like two lost missionaries have shown up on our doorstep. The sign says ‘no solicitors’, you know.” 

Roy stepped through the threshold, his daughter - still clad in her footie pajamas - nestled on his hip with her kitty backpack around her shoulders. He gave a half-hearted exhale through his nose at Oliver’s quip, tossing him an unimpressed look. 

“Mimi!!” Lian shouted at the sight of Dinah seated at the table.

“My precious grandbaby!” Dinah replied with similar vigor.

Roy set her down and watched Dinah crouch to receive the excited toddler as she raced across the floor. She swept Lian into her arms, squeezing her tightly as her granddaughter wrapped her arms around her neck. 

“Weren’t expecting you.” Oliver said, his voice low enough that only Roy could hear. 

He drank in the sight of his son, who looked absolutely weathered, with a gentle yet obviously concerned smile. Roy brushed a palm over the back of his neck, kicking off his sneakers in the entryway. Noticing the lit candle and glasses of wine on the table, Roy wrinkled his nose.

“Gross.” He muttered.

Oliver smirked, throwing an arm over Roy’s shoulder, which Roy fought less than usual. Another diagnostic sign that something was awry. 

“I need a favor.” Roy admitted.

He spoke with his father figure in tones hushed to keep the conversation between them. In the background, Dinah pressed kisses to Lian’s face, the child shrieking with delight. 

“I’m sure Dinah and I can watch Lian for the next couple of days.” Oliver replied. 

“No, no,” Roy brushed him off. Oliver’s eyebrows raised. “It’s not that.”

“Well, whatever you need, son.” Oliver said, earnestly.

Roy shuffled uncomfortably in the entryway. His eyes scrubbed across the landscape of the mansion, a place that he had avoided as much as possible. Yet here he was, crawling back with desperation. His eyes fell upon the photographs on the wall, pictures of Ollie and Dinah from when they first dated, a couple of him and Roy when Roy was just a kid. 

“I know you’ve always been sentimental.” Roy said. “I’m gonna need one of your keepsakes.”

It was Sunday morning, and the Sunday scaries had already set in fiercely. All weekend you had picked up your phone to say something - to reply - but words failed you and you put it right back down again. It felt almost like a compulsion. 

You resigned yourself to your worn spot on the couch, warm cup of coffee in your hands, leaning into the cushion as you stared out the window. After everything was going so well, you couldn’t help but feel that you screwed it all up. You had been caught in a self-hatred vortex since last week.

A gentle but firm knock on your door broke you out of your thoughts. You frowned to yourself, setting the coffee down on your living room table. You took your time to rise to your feet, walking over to the door before opening it gently. 

On the other side of the threshold, Roy stood with his hands in his pockets. The first thing you noticed was how worn he looked, which sent a pang of concern through your heart. 

“Hey.” He said, his voice husky from lack of use. 

“Hey.” You replied. 

Roy shuffled his feet. 

“I just wanted to talk.” He said.

You leaned against the door frame, giving him a subtle nod. Roy sighed, casting his gaze sideways. 

“I wanted to apologize for the other night.” He said. “You didn’t really want to go, and I talked you into it. And I’m sorry. I should have listened to you. I wish we didn’t go.”

You bit down on your lip, a part of you wanting to tell him otherwise. That in a way, you were sort of glad that you had gone, even if it ended in disaster. You got to meet his childhood friends, watch him interact so comfortably with the others. There was a part of that that was so special. But you refrained from replying, wanting to see where he was going with this. 

“When I was a part of the Titans, I dated Donna, and I dated Kori for a bit, too.” He admitted. “And it was fine or whatever. We were just kids. They were pretty girls. That’s all it was. I wasn’t trying to conceal that from you. It just… didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Then, there was Jade. She gave up on me, but worse, she gave up on Lian. That, I could never forgive.”

He cleared his throat. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he revealed a piece of wrinkled paper in his palm. It caught your attention as he worked it over in his hands, nervous. 

“When I met you, it was like nothing I had ever felt before. With anybody. I mean, you’re a pretty girl, obviously.” He let that boyish smirk cross his face for a moment before gathering himself. “But it was different. Deeper than that. You consumed my every waking moment - still do. You… disarm me.”

He let out a deep sigh.

“I understand why you’re upset with me. I’d be upset with me, too.” He admitted. “But if it would ease your mind even in the slightest, I would sit down and tell you every girl I’ve ever dated in chronological order. Hell, babe, I would tell you the edition of every porn mag I ever cranked one out to if it was any reassurance. Because not a single one of them holds a candle to you or how special you are to me, and I need you to know that.”

At this, you wrinkled your nose. Roy always did have a way with words. It was sweet. Gross, but sweet.

He held out the paper he had been guarding and you received it eagerly. As he leaned in to give you his peace offering, he placed a precious kiss to the apple of your cheek. You allowed yourself to lean into his warmth, for just a moment, and boy had you missed it.

“This is my proof.” He finished, shoving his hands in the pocket of his jeans. “I love you, baby. You are my end game. If you want to meet to talk… let me know.”

He threw you a sheepish look, with the smallest smile, before turning around and heading down your apartment sidewalk. You watched him climb into his truck before starting it up and backing out of the parking lot. 

Working the paper over in your hands, you trembled a bit before pulling it open. It was postmarked months ago, from when you and Roy had first started seeing each other.

After finishing the letter, your heart clenched involuntarily. Thoughts of the beginning of your courtship swarm through your head: how Roy would wear the same wrinkled button up every time he took you out, how he insisted on opening the passenger side door for you, feigning offense if you even touched the handle. 

Seeing it written out here, in earnest, eviscerated the last remnants of concern and insecurity that you had held on to. Kori and Donna may have experienced his immature shoulder rubs, but you had him in the early daylight, his lips slack with sleep as he pulled you impossibly closer even while dreaming. You had his calloused hands rubbing your lower abdomen when you had period cramps. You had him showing up at your doorstep at three in the morning with a pint of ice cream when you said that you couldn’t sleep because you were worrying about work. And you had him calling you his future wife in intimate scrawl in a letter to his father, just weeks after the start of your relationship. 

You were envious to think that others had your man before you, but you had him now, in whole. In ways that nobody else had him before.

The next morning, as the sun barely crested above the landscape, you found your roles reversed as you rapped your knuckles against Roy’s door. It swung open tentatively, and you saw his green eyes widen as he recognized your form, scrambling to undo the chain lock so that he could take in your appearance fully. You gave him a shy smile. 

“You were right.” You said, voice soft enough for the early hours. 

He cocked his head once again, with a small shake to demonstrate his lack of understanding. You let the corners of your lips creep up towards your temples.

“This is what it’s like when you’re dating the one.” You confirmed. 

You held out the letter. Roy took it in his hands, working it over cautiously as a smile wore itself into his face to match your own. His restraint exhausted, he released his grip on the door handle and threw himself around you. One hand wrapping around the back of your head to cradle you close, his face finding the bend of your neck. He took in your scent, the feel of your soft skin against the apex of his nose, his hands tracing your back. 

At your reunion, all was right in your world again.

“I thought so.” He murmured, directly into your ear. “Thank you… my Mrs. Harper.” 

Header image by: @twentytomidnight

Arsenal dividers by: andromeda-graphics

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This led to where you were now, waiting in line to get seated at a cute resturaunt.

"I'm hungry,"

Roy chuckled and ruffled his daughters hair, kissing her head. "I know baby, we'll get some food in you soon."

Lian crossed her arms and pouted, understanding what her father told her but she wasn't going to be happy about it.

Roy looked up at you, an amused smile on his face. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulled you into him feeling you shiver from his warmth.

"Babe, if you're cold you just had to tell me."

Keeping a tight hold on Lian, you nuzzled his shoulder. "Didn't realize how cold I am until now," you laughed.

"Daddy's always warm,"

You smiled at her. "Yeah, Daddy is always warm."

Lian smiled, hugging you tightly. "And Mommy gives the best hugs and cuddles."

At her words, time seemed to stand still. You and Roy had been together for a few years now, with you fully stepping into the mother role for Lian. But you never thought she'd ever consider you her mother.

Roy felt your body shift, hearing the word his daughter said. He could see the tears pricking your eyes, as you held his baby girl tighter.

Pulling you closer into him, Roy kissed your forehead. "Yeah, Mommy does give the best hugs."

It wasn't long before you were sat at a table, and lunch went off without a hitch. It was a few hours before the three of you were back on the road, with Lian passed out in the back seat.

Roy held your hand as he drove, knowing you needed that comfort.

"Everything alright babe?"

You couldn't help but beem at him, "She called me Mommy."

"I heard," he chuckled.

You tightened your grip on his hand. "I never thought she saw me that way, it caught me off guard."

Roy hummed softly, "Well, you've been around most of her life taking care of her. To a six-year-old that's what a mother is."

"If it helps, I can start calling you Mommy too."

You rolled your eyes. "Focus on the road, Harper."

Roy laughed, "You love me,"

“That bag looks a little heavy for a library run,” Roy remarked as you made your way to the front door of the apartment.  You knew he didn’t miss you dropping your house key at the table by the door.  You had no intention of coming back, so it was pointless to hold onto a key that opened a door you didn’t want to go through.

“It’s enough,” you quipped as you opened the door one last time.  You didn’t want a drawn out goodbye from someone who rarely even thought of you.

Within an instant, Roy was between you and the empty doorway.  It took everything you had to keep your body calm and relaxed.  If he wanted a fight, that’s what you’d give him, but it would be on your terms.  He was studying your reaction as he asked through clenched teeth, “Where do you think you’re going so late?”

You had studied Roy long enough to know what would hurt enough to leave him reeling so you could get out.  You locked eyes, slowly blinking once before coolly stating, “I’m leaving and will find a place to stay where I’m not looked at like I’m the end product of a drunken mistake.”

Roy was speechless from your verbal gut punch.  Perhaps if he’d taken the time to get to know you, it wouldn’t feel so true, or might not have even come to it.  You took his moment of personal reflection as your chance to get out of the apartment and out of sight.

You waited until you were across town before you pulled out your issued SAT phone. “Waller, I need a pickup at my current coordinates.”

You’d taken every precaution to make sure you wouldn’t be followed or found unless you wanted to be.  Roy wasn’t stupid, and you knew he’d immediately try tracking your cell phone.  You had a plan, and one of the preliminary steps was leaving the phone he’d given you in the opposite direction than you’d planned on taking.  He’d figure it out, but you had to hope you’d be long gone before he did.

It had been weeks since you’d left the Harper home for good, and for the first time since your mom was killed, you almost felt normal and happy.  Your life began to resemble what it once was, even with the glaring absences in your life.

It was bound to happen sooner or later, especially with Waller pulling the strings, but you didn’t expect to be thrust into working with Arsenal.  You both seemed to run head first into enemy fire and had to jump for cover as you shot off your armored response.

“What are you doing, working for ARGUS?” Roy whispered angrily as he took cover from the onslaught of enemy fire.

“It’s a matter of family,” you answered curtly.  The middle of a mission was not where you wanted to have some long drawn out heart to heart about the meaning of family.

“We’re your blood, not them, Y/N,” Roy hissed. “I don’t understand why you’d leave your family to work for Waller.”

“A family is more than blood.  They make you feel like you belong and you aren’t just some obligation from a night of indiscretion,” you seethed.  You had thought the emotional wounds had healed, but seeing your father again so unexpectedly tore you apart and you couldn’t hide it.

“The only indiscretion was treating you like an outsider and like my daughter.  I should’ve made you feel safe at home,” he confessed solemnly.  “But that still doesn’t explain how you got involved with Waller and ARGUS.”  

“My mother’s debts to ARGUS have become my own,” you stated simply.  “I’ll leave a better legacy, but for now, I’m working to repay hers.”

Before Roy could process what sort of debt you could possibly owe to ARGUS, you were darting out into the line of fire.  You expertly took out your enemies as you sprinted to get Lian away from the spray of bullets.  Each of your shots landed exactly as intended, neutralizing your mutual enemy.  It was only after Arsenal checked to make sure there would be no more attacks that he realized you’d been shot saving your sister.

“A family may be more than blood, Y/N,” he started as he began to tend to your wound, “but I know you go above and beyond for family.  I’ll make sure your debt to Waller is paid, but I’d like it if you came home and gave me a chance to make up for all of the hurt I’ve had a hand in in your life.”

All you’d ever wanted from Roy was to feel like he was your dad and had your back.  It may have taken getting shot, but you finally felt like you belonged as a part of the Harper family.

Tags:

Everything: @societiesholyskittle @pickyblue12 @icycoldbeanieweanies @thoughtfullychaoticdreamer

You were used to the fizzling rush of zeta-tube travel by now. The feeling that every particle in your being was dissolved, shaken up, and reassembled within milliseconds, displacing you in an entirely different location in the time taken to blink. Initially, it knocked the wind from you. Now, you were a veteran. Casting a glance over your shoulder, you saw that your machine survived the transport with you. What fortune. 

You arrived at the Watchtower today because Dinah had informed you that the Titans (formerly ‘Teen’) were meeting in the break room over lunch. You were desperate for a subject, and knew that the gaggle of young adults were more likely to be willing participants than the remainder of the Justice League that flitted in and out of the Watchtower with haste. Wrapping the power cord around your palm like a tether, you tugged the machine in tow. 

As you entered the break room, there they were. Dick Grayson, Nightwing, statuesque, reclined with his hip cocked against a side table. He was chatting freely with Koriand’r, who was giving him a run for his money in the looks department, her amber curls cascading down to her ankles, shaking loose while she laughed at Dick’s dumb banter. Donna concentrated on a small notebook pitched open in her palm, scribbling lazily as she eavesdropped on external conversation and smiling to herself at what she overheard. Garth perched upon the back of a chair, his knees curled close to his chest while he chatted with the former Kid Flash and Speedy. Wally talked with wild gesticulations, pulling a clap of laughter from Garth. Roy chuckled lowly as he sharpened the arrow points that remained in his quiver. 

Your presence seemed to ignite the air in the room, drawing the attention of the Titans, yanking them from their preoccupation. Your shoulders stooped with mild shyness at the sudden attention, painfully aware that you were clad in your daytime uniform and not the heroic garb that you were known for in this environment. The vulnerability of your lowly citizenship made you hide behind your apparatus, before you cleared your throat to address the room. 

“Um, hi guys.” You said, voice significantly meeker than your boisterous heroic persona. “I’m making an instructional video for the medical school. On ultrasound.”

You gestured to the equipment perched in front of you. A state of the art machine that had appeared in your department shortly after you had complained openly about your outdated appliances at a Justice League meeting. Courtesy of the Wayne Foundation, of course. 

“I need a model.” You cut to the point. “If you wouldn’t mind me scanning you and appearing in the video. Purely educational, of course.”

You watched the Titans cast glances between each other, communicating in silent telepathy that was only effective from the sheer number of years that they had worked together in close proximity. Feeling your intense status within the outgroup, you were determined to make your leave sooner rather than later.

“Anyway, if anyone’s willing,” You said, leaving the bait to the crowd. “You’d be doing me a real favor. I’ll be in the other room.”

You took your exit, dragging the machine behind in your path. You tried the door at the first available room, sighing in gratitude when it opened without complaint. Setting your phone up on the table for a most professional recording, you dragged the recliner from the corner as a makeshift gurney within the frame. You tucked your scrub shirt in and began preparation, ripping open a packet of ultrasound jelly with your incisors. 

What you didn’t witness was the scramble that had occurred in your wake. At your appearance and humble request, Wally smoothed a hand over his auburn curls, making predatory moves to narrow in. He swaggered a couple of steps, yanking up his pants by the belt loops. Before he could get up to speed, Roy jabbed the tip of his bow to Wally’s sternum. 

“Over my dead body, West.” He growled lowly, all of the tease sapped from his eyes. 

Behind the altercation, Dick let out a bright clap of laughter, pulling Roy and Wally from their scuffle of machismo. As the two turned, they saw Donna’s face pulled into a knowing grin, Kori’s expression glowing with fondness at Dick’s chuckle, the end of a jovial eye roll from Garth’s blue irises. In the aftermath of the short argument, each Titan realized how instantly the quarrel had sent them back to adolescence.

“It’s only because Roy has a big fat crush on Y/N.” Donna teased, pursuing the immaturity. “You’d have to be blind not to notice.”

Roy’s head whipped over at her snide comment, which sent Kori into further giggles. His cheeks, translucently pale with a sparse fleck of freckles, illuminated an alarming red. Wally broke out in a crooked grin at his reaction. 

“My bad, man.” Wally replied, easing back to sit on the table. “I didn’t know they were already accounted for.”

“You guys suck.” Roy grumbled under his breath. 

He tossed his quiver from over his shoulder to rest in the corner of the breakroom, propping his bow up to nestle alongside it. With a scathing look tossed over his deltoid, unable to argue against the allegations, he strode with the remainder of his intact confidence to follow your path. 

At the gentle rap of his knuckles upon the ajar door, you turned, your expression erupting into a brilliant smile at the sight of Roy Harper’s figure. The flush that he had been desperately trying to suppress threatened to rage wild. How could he help himself when you were looking at him like that?

“Thank you so much, Roy.” You said. “This will be so helpful for the students. I’m so grateful.”

He settled into the angled recliner, palms overlapped on his belt line. His analytic eyes watched you as you angled the camera, getting the perfect frame for the video. Of course, he was more than distracted with your figure. You turned to him after starting the recording.

“I’ll need your shirt off.” You said.

“Uh - for the video,” You corrected quickly, your face boiling with heat at the insinuation. “The exam is on the torso.” 

“Sure thing.” He responded, tugging his vest over his shoulders.

As you turned back from adjusting the video, your jaw threatened to fall to the floor. You had figured Roy was built, from the years of training as Green Arrow’s protege and his own crime fighting antics, but you weren’t prepared for the washboard abs, tight pecs, and most of all, deliciously defined v-line. You were sure he caught your oogling, but averted your gaze to preserve the remainder of your dignity. 

Despite your internal insecurity, you drew closer to him, magnetized. Unconsciously biting your bottom lip, you moved both hands towards the cut of his cheekbones. He closed his eyes, gorgeous long blonde eyelashes, in anticipation of your touch. Despite his expectation of your sensual caress, your fingers had simply moved to remove his mask. As you retracted it from his face, you gave him a shy smile.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your secret identity.” You said, with a jagged smirk. “I’d have a lot of explaining to do to my students on how I recruited Arsenal for my demonstration.”

Roy found himself too breathless to reply, concentrating his energy on calming down. You took the opportunity to apply a generous amount of gel to your probe, pulling the ultrasound screen in view of the camera. You leaned down, close enough that your breath blew across the plane of his face, before speaking in confidence to him.

“I can always edit the recording,” you said. “So if we make a mistake, that’s okay.”

Roy let out a rough exhale, nodding with closed lids. Once your probe was set, you turned to the camera for demonstration. 

“Hello, I am Dr. L/N with the School of Medicine, working today with my model Roy.” At this, you turned to him and gestured. He looked awkwardly at the camera, mouth still slightly agape. He cursed himself internally for making the first impression of a dumbass. “We will be demonstrating for you a FAST ultrasound today.”

Quickly recalling that he was on camera, Roy concentrated on fixing his face. He trained his eyes on the blinking, red dot of your phone and provided his most confident look as you continued your introduction. 

“A FAST ultrasound - or Focused Assessment with Sonography in Trauma - is indicated when there is blunt or penetrating abdominal or thoracic trauma.” You instructed. “There are four necessary windows.”

At the termination of your sentence, you leaned over Roy with your equipment in hand. His eyes were absorbed on your expression, paying no mind to the recording or equipment in the room with you. Your hand levitated above the bundled muscle of his stomach. 

“Is it alright if I rest my hand on your abdomen?” You asked. 

His eyes fluttered at the request.

“You can do anything you want to me.” He admitted. 

At the confession, you laughed with mild surprise leading into embarrassment. Your head turned abruptly to the camera and back again. 

“I’ll have to cut that from the recording.” You reprimanded, only to him, no heat in your tone. 

Clearing your throat, you continued with your presentation. 

“The first window is Morison’s pouch - or the hepatorenal recess - to check for free fluid in the abdomen.”

A shiver traversed down Roy’s spine at the contact of cold gel, a remarkable contrast from the warmth boiling underneath his skin. He continued to remind himself that he was on camera, being recorded, and tried to control his impulses. Your hand glided with precision underneath the curve of his right-sided ribs, angling the screen for optimal viewing.

“As you can see, Roy has no free fluid between his right kidney and the tip of his liver.” You replied. 

“That’s good.” You translated, intimately and only to him. 

His reply was a soft exhale through his nose, the movement rumbling through his belly and obscuring your view for just a moment. You used the end of the probe to scrape the gel from his right flank. 

“The next view is the perisplenic area. Looking for the same thing - free fluid around the spleen or underneath the diaphragm.” You explained to the recording. 

At this, you moved your arm across his waist to rest the probe against his left side, your body draped above his now. You bit down on your bottom lip and focused your attention on the ultrasound screen, trying to ignore the dilation of Roy’s mossy eyes and the way his gaze trained on yours with a slight slack of his lips. You adjusted the probe for optimal viewing, brushing the pad of your thumb underneath his left pec. 

“Again, we see the edge of the spleen and the retroperitoneal space.” You instructed. “An absence of anechoic striping that would indicate blood or air in the peritoneum." 

Once again, you gathered the gel, now warmed by the simmer of Roy’s skin at your proximity. As you turned away from the recording, you leaned in impossibly closer to whisper to him in confidence. 

“The next window is looking at your bladder.” You murmured. “Is it okay with you if I unbuckle your belt so I can tuck in the towel? Wouldn’t want to get ultrasound gel on your pants.”

Roy siphoned another breath from his lips, internally affirming to himself that he definitely would have put Wally six feet under if he had insisted on being your model in his place. With a sober yet drunken smile, his eyes never daring to leave your stare, he nodded to give you consent. You shot him a grateful look. 

Desperately reminding yourself that this was an educational experience, with the eyes of your eager students at the other end of the screen, your fingers moved to his hips. You tugged the tail of his belt from the loop, unfastening the buckle, leaving it draped to the side. Your digits moved to the button of his pants, pulling down the zipper just far enough that you could gingerly tuck in the sterile drape. 

Roy swallowed a moan at the brush of the back of your knuckles against his bare skin, realizing he was going to die and the whole thing was going to be recorded and broadcast to a class of aspiring doctors. ‘There are worse ways to go,’ he assured himself. He didn’t notice you turn back to the viewfinder.

“The last abdominal window is the suprapubic region.” You clarified. “You’ll see the outline of the bladder and the pelvic anatomy. Again, no free fluid of concern.”

He relished the scrape of your thumb in another effort to conserve the gel. He was consciously restraining himself from throwing the probe from your hands and pulling you down into his embrace. Recording be damned. In fact - even better. Evidence of your passionate embrace to return to later.

His thoughts erased instantly at your bare palm along the stage of his upper chest, brushing against the sparse reddish-blonde hair as you moved to position the instrument for the last time. His mind was torn between bliss and schemes of how he could keep your hands on him for as long as possible. The pads of your non-dominant hand danced down his sternum to feel for the apex of his ribs. You dug the probe in at the junction where his ribcage met his abdomen. 

“Lastly, of course, we want to check out the heart,” You said, trying to put enough pressure into your exam without causing him pain. “This view can be a little difficult and can take some maneuvering, but you want to get a good look at the pericardium.”

You adjusted the bell of the wand, edging it along his skin. Unbeknownst to you, Roy enjoyed the slight discomfort in your positioning. He made a mental note to restrain his freakier tendencies from you… until later.

His blissful gaze still set upon you, he noticed you break into a soft, subtle smile. His neck craned to look at the ultrasound screen, and you turned it so that it was optimal viewing for the recording and for him to see.

“And there’s his heart.” You said, gently, with a noticeable reverence. 

His eyes scanned the screen, and even to a novice, he could identify four chambers, beating in synchronicity. He marveled at the sight for a moment, before your voice broke him from his stupor again. 

“Beating maybe a little fast.” At this, you bit your lip. What a tease. “But regardless, no strain on any of the chambers. No fluid constriction or abnormal wall movement. A perfectly healthy heart… beautiful.” 

You couldn’t help yourself from adding the final comment, slipping from your lips before you could realize. You pulled away from Roy’s bare form, and he restrained a whimper, devastated at the absence of your touch. 

“And that concludes the basics of the FAST exam.” You announced, turned towards your cell phone. “We will practice more in class on Monday, but I thank you for your attention to this video, and most importantly, a huge thanks to Roy for being such a willing model.”

Roy entered reality from his daze, shooting you a crooked smile before turning to the camera to give a confirmatory nod and exit wave. You moved to stop the recording, pocketing your phone before approaching him once again.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to be my model.” You said. You extended an arm to help him sit up from his reclined position. “I really appreciate it, Roy.”

“No problem.” He replied, fixing his cap, pitched backwards upon his head. “I’m all about education.”

With a stuttering motion, you pivoted to grab another unused washcloth, thrusting it within his grasp. 

“Here’s this for the gel.” You said. “Sorry. It can be a little… sticky.”

He chuckled at this, and you averted your gaze from watching the sound roll through his pecs.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He replied. 

You turned away from him to clean the machine, powering it down and turning the settings back to baseline. Biting your lip, you didn’t know what to say until you felt a warm hand on the crook of your elbow. 

“You know,” Roy said, a mischievous look on his face when you faced him yet again. “Anytime you need a volunteer, I am more than happy to help.” 

Teeth to your tongue, you gave him an honest smile, heat bubbling to the surface of your face. 

“Be careful.” You warned. “I’ll take you up on that, Harper.”

As you rolled the machine back to the apparition platform, you prayed to a higher form that any of that footage was even remotely usable. 

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