A/N: This is just a little drabble. Not a very long fic. But I was listening to Erratic Cinematic by Gerry Cinnamon (saw it mentioned on @crazyfreckledginger’s blog and was like hey why not), and I was just so at peace listening to it. Very warm vibe I got from the song and I suppose I was inspired to write some Roy Harper fluff.
Enjoy writing inspired by a very content and peaceful mood!
Pairings: Reader x Roy Harper (Arsenal)
Warnings: Fluff
Sometimes Roy wonders what he did in life to earn moments like these; he wonders what he did to earn this privilege.
Sun filters in through the window blinds, soft rays entering the bedroom and illuminating the space with warm yellow and gold colors. The fan in the room makes the blinds flow a bit, making the sun rays move around.
Roy lies on his side, arm folded under his head, as he stares at your sleeping face. It’s creepy, yeah, he guesses, but you’re just so… beautiful, as a few rays catch your hair and skin.
Heck, you’re always this beautiful.
You don’t stir when he reaches out to brush some of the hair out of your face, nor when he shifts closer to be able to wrap an arm around you and nuzzle his face in your hair. If anything, you mumble something before curling into him even more.
The sense of peace Roy finds when he’s with you is something he’ll never give up. The way you make him feel is something that will never fade. The love he has for you will never shrink.
Love is something he’d thought he’d already experienced. Love is something Roy never expected to encounter again. Love is something you have shown him.
Anything that makes you happy makes him happy too. Anything that hurts you hurts him too. Anything you enjoy he enjoys too.
Even the simplest things seem amazing to Roy if you’re involved. Things like waking up in the morning with you across from him. Things like eating breakfast, walking down the sidewalk, tidying up, washing dishes–they’re all his favorite things to do whenever he does them with you.
Nothing in the world can compare to you.
At some point Roy must have dozed off, because he wakes up to the smell of food, and noticed the absence of your warmth.
Knowing you’re probably cooking and, no, there’s no reason to worry, Roy takes a minute to let himself wake up before sliding out of the covers and off the bed.
“It’s cold,” he mumbles at the feeling of the air on his bare chest. Louder, he calls, “[F/n]?”
“In the kitchen!”
A-ha. His intuition had been correct.
Roy smiles, going to brush his teeth, then making his way into the small kitchen the two of you share.
Your hair is up in a messy bun, and you’re wearing an old too-big t-shirt with some grey sweats, but you still look like a goddess in Roy’s eyes.
Silently sliding up behind you, Roy whispers, “Boo,” with his mouth beside your ear.
You jump, whirling to face him, and he laughs. “Harper! How dare you!” You smack his chest with the spatula you’re holding and he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head.
“Sorry, babe, couldn’t resist,” he cheerily excuses himself.
Rolling your eyes, you turn back to the eggs you’d been making. “Pancakes?”
Oh you know pancakes are his second-favorite. “I,” he solemnly begins, “will never reject a pancake in my life. If I do let me be struck down by lightning from the Gods!” Roy lifts the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically and you chuckle.
“If you want some, you’ve got to make them yourself.”
He gasps. “How cruel. You know your pancakes are the best.”
You look at him out of the corner of your eyes, a sparkle in their [E/C] hues. “Should’ve thought of that before you decided to scare me.”
“[F/n]~”
“A-ah. Sh. This is your fault.”
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Have a blessed one!
Bullseye
Published
Toad's Cave 