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lilac-super-nova · 3 years

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~ TRY AGAIN ~

DRAMIONE

WARNING: Character death! Swearing.

WORDS: 1.5K

A/N: Sorry, I changed it up a bit from the post I made about this fic the snippet of text. So, it's not exactly what I said it would be!

Hermione finally decided to go outside. The library was far too stuffy and there was a chattering group of third-year girls nearby. As she placed her book back on its shelf, Draco rounded the corner of the aisle and stopped at the sight of her standing there.

“Shit! Malfoy!” Hermione yelped quietly in surprise.

“Oh, finally,” he sneered, staring at her. “I was looking everywhere for you.”

“Of course you were! And I bet I know what you want to talk about,” Hermione whispered harshly, turning around to face Draco. “All you ever want to fucking talk about is us!”

Draco’s face registered hurt and then quickly switched back to his usual sneer. “So? You’re scared to talk about it at all,” he muttered, leaning forward so that Hermione could feel his hot breath on her cheek. “Are you scared of me, darling?”

He felt her body tense underneath him and he smiled. He tilted her chin upward and put his arm on the bookshelf behind her so that his body was practically touching hers, but not quite.

“Draco!” she gasped.”Not here!”

“Hmmm… perhaps an empty classroom?” he suggested.

Hermione tried to object but then she realized there was no point and settled for a look of pure hatred instead.

She followed him to an empty classroom and closed and locked the door behind her.

“I think we could try again. Please trust me. It’s okay, don’t worry,” Draco assured her as he sat her down on top of the teacher’s desk.

“Draco, I really don’t know,” Hermione mumbled, closing her eyes and taking Draco’s hand in hers.

“Please, darling? For me?” Draco pleaded with her, squeezing her hand tightly.

Even though she enjoyed watching him beg with her, she reluctantly sighed and nodded her head. Draco smiled and felt grateful for the opportunity. He knew he only had one chance and he had to be careful.

Draco placed a hand on her waist and leaned forward so that their lips almost met, but he paused, thinking of how lucky he was to have this opportunity and how beautiful Hermione was at that moment. He slowly breathed in and then tilted his face forward so that his li-

Hermione pulled away, hopped off of the desk, and landed with a dull thud as Draco tried to comprehend what had just happened. She had just been sitting in front of him, lips awaiting his touch, or so he had thought. Now, she seemed to be a completely different person, fierce and fiery beneath his gaze.

“Draco… I really can’t do this,” Hermione began regretfully. “You’re a good person, but I really don’t think this is going to work out. I’m so sorry, Draco.”

The realization and fact of what was going on hit Draco like a huge bullet, his heart dropping immediately and his mind drowning in despair. No, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening! What had he done to earn this? He had been careful and slow. Was he too slow!? What ha-

“This isn’t your fault,” Hermione assured him, reading his mind. “It just doesn’t feel right to me. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” Draco choked out quietly, stuttering in his confusion. “I understand.”

Hermione nodded. “I wish you well. Goodbye.”

And with that she walked out, gently closing the door behind her. Leaving him with his head down, wallowing in his misery, feeling as if he had failed. Drowning in his fears, mistakes, and insecurities.

***

The next day, Draco was walking down the hall on his way to potions class and he saw Harry, Hermione, and Ron standing with the rest of the Gryffindors, waiting for the class to start. The ease she talked to them with made him feel a deep pang of jealousy and longing. She had never talked to him like that.

Professor Snape opened the door to the dungeon and all of the students filed into the classroom, sat down, and awaited instructions. Today, Draco found a table with just Pansy and slumped onto a chair.

“Where the fuck were you yesterday?” she asked, setting her bag down on the empty seat next to her. “Crabbe and Goyle are in the hospital wing, they fell down a whole entire flight of stairs. I don’t really understand how that’s possible though,” Pansy said, noticing that he had looked around.

She smirked and had a slight air of triumph. Draco wondered if she had pushed them so that she could sit with him alone. He didn’t understand how she could be so obsessed with him when Hermione Granger had turned him down twice. When he couldn’t even gain the love of a mudblood.

Shit. “I was busy doing some studying in the library… for… uh… an extra credit essay for Snape! And it took quite a long time, I couldn’t figure out a specific thing about... unicorn blood.” He pieced together. He couldn’t tell her about what happened with Hermione, she would humiliate him for loving a muggle-born.

“Oh, well, you could’ve told me. I would’ve gladly helped you with your essay, you know,” Pansy said with a sly smile.

Draco began to feel uncomfortable and there was an awkward silence.

“I’m so sorry, I just didn’t think of it at the time. Next time something like that comes up I’ll let you know, okay?” He brought his hand up to his neck and rubbed it.

Pansy simply nodded, a little disappointed. He felt like he was failing everyone in that sense. How could he satisfy the love Pansy had for him and his own need for love from a person he could never quite capture at the same time?

At the end of the class, Draco quickly made his way to the door and hurried down the hall and up to the Great Hall to eat lunch. The entrance was filled with people and Draco let out a small groan when he realized that he had come at the worst time.

As he finally made his way to the Slytherin table he noticed Potter stare at him with a mix of hatred, confusion, and pity and Draco knew that Hermione had told him about what had happened.

He chose to sit at the far end of the table, away from his friends, and waited. When the food appeared he ate only a few things and no dessert at all. He noticed that some of the other Slytherins were looking at him and whispering to each other. Draco sighed. They were talking about him, of course.

When he got up with everyone else to leave and go to their next classes, he heard snippets of conversations including his name.

“Look! It’s him, Draco Malfoy. What a fuck up. Did you hear that he’s failing all of his classes?”

“--and that he’s starving himself! Do you know why?”

“Ha! He got turned down by a muggle-born! Ya’ know, the nerd?”

His cheeks glowed red as he ran, not to his next class, but to his Slytherin dorm room. He felt like he was going to cry and soon enough, his vision was getting blurry.

He threw open the door and dragged himself over to his bed where he collapsed onto the soft sheets. There he let all of his tears out until he was done and simply lying face down on his covers, barely able to breathe through the thick fabric.

The thoughts racing through his head were tangled in each other as he tried to make sense of his feelings and compose himself. Soon enough, he knew what he must do and it made his heart go wild. He had been expecting this for a while and he finally had the courage to do it.

Draco got up and robotically walked himself over to his trunk. There, he tied almost all of his clothing into one long rope and stood at the wall, waiting. He got out his wand, and under his breath, mumbled a simple spell. When he looked up, he noticed a hook protruding from the wall a foot above him. It was next to his bed so that if he got on it he would be able to touch it with the top of his head. The perfect height.

Without thinking, Draco worked the rope of clothing and created a noose that looked like it would fit perfectly. He did this by hand. He adjusted this on the hook and made sure it was very tight and would not give way. After that, Draco got up on the bed, positioned himself, and put it on while simultaneously tightening it.

***

The thorny roses stood on that bedside table, never wilting or dying, never needing to have their water changed. The thing is, they had never been magically altered in any way and were practically perfect. The pure crimson red of their beautiful petals. The neatly sculpted thorns, sharp as a needle. The long and delicate, but strong stems, as healthy as they had been exactly a year ago. Nobody touched them or bothered them in any way because they were a monument. Some people said if you get that bed, you would end up dying that year, some said it was good luck.

Many people mourned this tragic death, but none as much as Hermione Granger.

#Dramione #dramione #dramione ship #draco #draco malfoy #hermione #hermione granger #harry potter #hogwarts #dramione fic #fanfic #hp #hp fanfic

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bladling · 2 years

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rules: tag a few people you want to know better; make a new post, don’t reblog!

tagged by @lowkeyanakin ! tysm it made me smile that u tagged me 🥺❤️⚔️

currently reading: ROTS novelization and Glittering Images: a journey through art from egypt to star wars (art nerd so im so hyped to start reading this!!!). im also on book 3 of dune!! (god im in the middle of like 8 books. how do people consistently read one?????)

last song: Yes Sir, I Can Boogie by Baccara. ive been very into 70s disco and light french pop lately :)))

last movie: attack of the clones lmaoooo. im watching all of star wars with my bff rn because shes never seen 🤯

last series: HALSTON!!!!❤️❤️❤️🙏🙏🙏⚔️⚔️⚔️ watched it for the first time on thursday and then rewatched it yesterday... it blows me mind. i love a good tragic story. THE DRAMA!! this song reminds me of him: https://open.spotify.com/track/54UPoHNQuqAqOQAZ2hl1il?si=3Yih3JhPRT-_JuzAe4KStQ

im also currently watching moon knight!! im not at all a marvel fan and i dont consume marvel media at all... but oscar isaac so u didnt have to try hard to convince me to watch this lmao. all of u guys on here posting so many gifs now i GOT to see it huh? (im liking it tho! i hope it stays good)

sweet, spicy, savory: hard to choose between spicy and savory.. depends on my mood...

coffee or tea: TEA FOR SURE!!!! i have a huge collection of loose leaf tea. kinda nerdy about it. coffee is too bitter for me but girls who drink it just plain black r hot and sexy and hold my hand. i wish i was as strong 😫

three ships: obikin, anakin/me, obi wan/me, and to make it interesting: obi wan/anakin/me ❤️

first ever ship: this is so embarrassing but i was obsessed with the ya*oi (SHOULD I CENSOR IT LMAO???) manga jun/jou roman/tica when i was in middle school 💀💀💀

currently working on: oh boy.. i just have so many illustration ideas i want to do!!! working on some commissions, and i have thumbnailed 2 oil paintings i really am so excited to start now that i got my new easel set up!!!!! 🙌

favorite piece of clothing: my warrior cats hoodie and my anakin tshirt i got on etsy because its so fucking funny www.etsy.com/listing/1122803188

comfort food: my moms pho is zee best

favorite time of year: spring! seeing the new greens and blossoming flowers is very inspiring

fav fanfiction: lmao not surprising but Lex Talionis by intermundia. this fic is what made me fall in love with obi wan and anakin more. changed my life because them and star wars has changed my life 🤯.

i have so many other fics that i would also consider my favs!! all of u r so talented and make the best fics... how!!!!!

no pressure tags ❤️: @unspuncreature @nyaladinstormblessed ......... bruh i cant think of any other mutuals at the top of my head rn

tagging any one of u silly guys who want to do this ♡

#about me

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octupus-on-the-moon · 3 years

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A roommate

~Hi :l I know, I know, I'll update regularly my ass. The good news are, that i wrote a lot. My Star Wars obsession is back and i started to write a fic about it and I'm writing a Short Story about Sam. Sooo i got distracted. But I sat down yesterday and got some writing done here aaaand I made a Masterlist, linked over here. I shut up now, have fun ;)~

《 Previous -- Masterlist -- Next 》

Seventh part of a nightmare

Word count: 1542

Pairing: Bucky × Reader

Warning: Mental health issues

It was a long rough night. For both. The silences and darkness prevented Barnes from sleeping, he doze off a few times just to wake up, sweating and panting. Thinking about all the horrible things his Alter Ego did, what he did. Even though Bucky really wanted to stand up stretch a little and turn on the lights, but he did not, because he feared he might wake up y/n and needed to explain himself. So, he kept sitting on the cold floor, waiting for the sunrise.

On the other side of the door y/n, wasn´t having a better time either. The whole thing with her father was slowly driving her crazy. She replayed every single memory she ever had of him. And suddenly there were little but clear hints about his other life. Strange man in black suits, that came to visit them. Her dad every once in a while, disappearing for a few hours just to come back with a present, telling y/n that he had work to do outside. And the panic he managed to hide in front of everyone but her, when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and the media went wild. It started to make sense. Everything started to make sense. And it scared y/n, because a little part of her did not want it to be real. To calm herself down y/n was walking around the room, playing with her hair, picking on her skin. She was tempted to open the door, but on a second thought, y/n did not want to intrude in James’s space. She was already a burden enough.

Holding that thought y/n, decided to try and sleep. Under the blankets she stared at the ceiling. Y/n could hear almost anything that happened in the apartment. The quiet humming of the fridge. The steady leak in the bathroom sink. The fluttering of the curtain and obviously the sounds of the Big City, that came through the open window. The only thing she could not hear at all was James.

Finally, her curiosity won.

On tip toes y/n stood up and went to the door. Every little noise in this apartment could be heard from the bed. Everything but him. Was he meditating? Did he leave? Did he die from a strange disease from one moment to another? She was about to laugh about her own silly ideas. Preventing it by putting a hand over her mouth, while the other one slowly lowered the door handle. It opened easy without making any sound. Y/n took two light steps ahead and looked over the edge into the living room.

As she saw James leaning upright against the wall, she hid herself behind the wall. Nothing happened. Once again, she leaned over the edge. He did not move. He was sleeping. Y/n took a deeper look on to the scene before her. Mr. Nakajima’s Mattress was carefully placed on the wall, besides the TV. James was sitting on the opposite side of it, between the armchair and the only chair he had. The head straight up as if he were looking at the ceiling. Under the long-sleeved t-shirt, he was wearing, you could see the singular shapes of the metal arm. His legs stretched out in front of him wrapped in a dark blanket. The curtain was closed, but the window was open, so that the thin fabric flooded up every few moments and the street lights submerged the room in a strange light.

Y/n did not know how long she admired the scene. Every little detail consumed her in that quiet night. Then the magic broke.

James set himself up, struggling for air, gripping the blanket with one hand, putting the other one on his chest. Taking one heavy breath after the other. To just break down against the wall again. Y/n froze. She was not meant to see that, but she could not move without drawing his attention to her. Y/n kept observing the scene, that had lost all its charm. The room was cold, because of the wind that came through the open window. The furniture lost its shape, turning into threating shadows. In between, James suddenly seemed so small and lost. He forced his breath to slow down. It took him a few tries, and when he hesitantly drew his knees to his chest, something inside her broke. Her face grew cold. Eyes narrow, Lips pressed together. Her fist closed tight.

Even though she long thought of him as a monster, now she decided to make everyone pay, who was responsible for this. If this sudden feeling came, because it reminded her of someone long lost or because the person in front of her was scared child, instead of the strong Avenger she thought he became, did not matter.

James started to become more conscious of his surroundings as he calmed down. Y/n took the moment of confusion and escaped silently to her room.

The first rays of light from the morning sun, vanished the cold shadows of the moon. After sleeping a few hours, y/n got up of her bed full of zest for action. It was not enough sleep, but nothing that a good coffee could not solve. While she hurried to the bathroom, y/n noticed that James was still sleeping, rolled up in the same place she left him last night. With a smile she brushed her hair and teeth. Y/n planned a little surprise for him, that would work even better if he slept a little longer.

After y/n dressed up, made a good coffee, drank a cup and left a little note for James. She went out to buy some things for her host. The usual stuff. Food, easy to cook for one person; Some good wine; Toilet paper; soap, etc. As she passed a little Flower shop y/n had an idea and went inside.

With all hands full of bags, she carefully balanced her way to the door of the apartment. Then it struck her. She did not have any keys. Rolling her eyes sighting, y/n slowly let all bags down to the floor. Taking a quick look on her wristwatch, that told y/n it was almost noon, she decided to knock.

Like the last time y/n heard some mumbling and quick steps behind the door. With the same sleepy face of the first time Bucky greeted y/n. When he registered all the bags on the floor, his face lit up in astonishment. It was a really long time ago someone went grocery shopping for him.

Y/n and Bucky brought everything to the kitchen, both equally excited about all the bags.

“Why and what did you buy?” Barnes asked with a soft smile and a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Oh, just some food aaaaand” Y/n was searching through the bags “Some little plants” she finished showing him a little pot with a tiny round cactus. “Because you need food and taking care of plants is fun, apart from the obvious fact that they look great”

“Wow” was the only response from Bucky. The little plants reminded him of Wakanda, they were not exactly goats, but y/n bought a lot of them so he would have enough to do every day.

The Sunday rushed by between cocking their late-late-breakfast, eating and talking, repotting the plants, looking for the best place for all the little flowers, cactuses and little bushes and last but not least cooking their on-time-dinner. As the sun sets, both were sitting on the living room floor enjoying a bottle of wine, surrounded by little colorful pots.

“I didn´t think you could cook, it was delicious” Bucky commented looking down on the empty plates.

“Thank you. Yeah rich-girl-complex doesn´t work with me. I like doing stuff myself and I lived alone a few years.”

“Well, you really didn´t seem that kind of girl, but you also don´t seem that kind of girl that likes doing domestic tasks” He took a sip of his wine, without letting her out of sight.

“Good point, but I think that isn´t a gender-relevant-thing everyone should be able to take care of themselves”

“Agreed. I´ll cook the next time”

“Agreed too, this place looks great by the way” Y/n praised as she took another look around the room.

“Yes, you were right plants do look fantastic” Bucky approved with a soft smile.

“Oh I bought something else” Y/n jumped up and went to the bedroom. He took another sip of his wine frowning. Then she came back with two Books “These two are my favorite” y/n explained holding them up “Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe from the Narnia Chronicles by C.S. Lewis”

“How did you? Never mind. Thank you” Barnes reached out for the books beaming as if it were Christmas. Y/n gave them to him, sitting down, studying his expressions. She was nervous at first, because she did not know if he would like them, but the smile told her everything. She relaxed, reaching for her glass.

“Can we read them together?” Bucky suddenly asked, after reading the backs and observing the covers awhile “No pressure, if you already…” His shy stutter got interrupted

“Of course”

~I loved writing this one, it was really fun and I love its vibe. If I'm intruding too much into the reader character, I'm sorry, I'm really trying not to~

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#bucky barnes #mcu #marvel #tfatws #sam wilson #anthony mackie #captain america #sebastian stan #bucky × reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier × reader

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gyllenhaalstories · 4 years

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Hi can you write a fic about dad!jake because there’s not a lot of them on here (if u want) and plus your writing is amazing hands down one of the best jake blogs on here ♥️

i do agree, there is a cruel lack of dad!jake. it’s so unfortunate! i mean, he looks like uncle goals and he would make the best dad in the entire world! thank you so so so so so much anon! you have no idea how happy your kind words make me! you didn’t give any specific setting so i went for the ultimate softness! just because i love naming characters, let me introduce you to toddler (ish) rose gyllenhaal! EXTRAS: i suggest you listen to the cinematic orchestra’s to build a home to get in the same mindset as i was while writing this. i found the gif on google image and couldn’t find the original creator, i’m sorry! WARNINGS: none except i don’t know how kids act and like what they are except very strange creatures so i’m so sorry if my awkwardness is showing through this fic! i hope you, and everyone reading this, will enjoy it! ( 1500 words)

BUILD A BEAR

“Teddy Bear!” Your daughter pointed, her head and arm peeking from the pillow fort you helped her build in your living room. “Big Teddy Bear!” She pointed at her father.

You chuckled, realizing that Jake has returned from running errands.

“You learned new words? I’m very proud of you, sweetheart!” Jake frowned, confused, as he planted a kiss on your forehead, then your daughter’s. Proud was an understatement. He would brag about how smart your daughter was at the simplest thing. Whether she fed herself without making a mess, drew an absolute chaotic art piece with her crayons or found her way to snuggle up in her parents’ bed despite being told not to, he was so proud. She amazed him.

It amazed him how she looked exactly like the two of you combined. She had his piercing blue eyes, but they had your shape, soft and cheerful. She had a bright smile like him. She had your button nose. She had that little curl in her hair that resembled yours. A bad encounter with the coffee table during a tickling session left her with a tiny scar on her chin, which looked exactly like one of Jake’s shaving accidents when he was young and innocent.

It amazed him how fast time flew by. Not even yesterday, the two of you were hearing her first cry and hugging her for the first time. It amazed him how much love he had to give this bundle of joy, while he believed he could never love someone or something as much as he loved you.

Rose repeated the nickname again and again. Maybe it was her new obsession. Last week, she tasted her very first lemon and kept screaming lemon all the time. Quite the learning experience, she had her father’s vocal chords that was for sure.

Jake shrugged it off and brought the mail to the kitchen table. He did not bother taking off his jacket, he kneeled with the two of you. He opened his legs and arms, hoping Rose would crawl and sit with him, but she just laughed and pointed at his face again. “Bear, Daddy is a bear!”

It finally hit you and you brust into laughter, leaving Jake in his confusion.

Rose pretended that her fingers were scissors and she mimicked the snip snip sound as she ran her little hand around Jake’s beard.

“She thinks you look like a bear.” You, too, brought your hand to Jake’s face and you stroked it lovingly. Rose agreed by nodding her head frantically. “You know, with the beard.”

“That’s not nice! I’m not a bear!” Jake pouted and pretended to be sad, which resulted in your daughter covering his face with kisses.

“No sad Daddy, I love my teddy bear!” She hugged him tight and Jake widened his eyes. He mouthed that she didn’t have a teddy bear and suddenly this looked like the biggest emergency in the world.

He scooped her up like she was as light as a feather, pulling out the cutest giggles out of her tiny body. “Get in, sweetheart, we’re going shopping!”

You told Jake you preferred to stay at home and clean around the house. He insisted he would prefer to have his princesses with him, but you gave him a wink. He was quicker to understand it meant you were clearing their evening schedule for something more entertaining than laundry, baby food making and bento box lunches binge watching.

So Jake got the little toddler ready. He let her pick her hat, her scarf and her mittens while he put on her boots. She usually hated that part, but he had this magic trick of singing a silly tune as he did so. It made her want to sing too, and forget about the heartbreaking moment her feet leave her favourite slippers. She opted for teal mittens, an orange hat with a pink pompom and a purple scarf with stripes. “She’s New York Fashion Week ready!”

You laughed, kissing them good bye.

*~*~*

Jake drove to the nearest mall and carried Rose over his shoulder until they reached the door of the shopping center.

“Where are we going?” She kept asking, from the moment she was in the car to now, when Jake was all scrunched over to hold her tiny hand.

“It’s a surprise, Rosie!”

“I love surprises!”

He made the walk to the Build a Bear store fun. He went to grab a muffin from a food stand and shared it with her, washing her hands so she would not stick them every where. He even stopped by a clothing store, taking notes of the pieces she liked from the front windows so he could get her new outfits. And when they finally made it to the store... She was running and dragging Jake along. He was surprised by her strength, but he really should not be. Ever since she was a baby she was strong like the Hulk, or like her mother. He liked to think she got it from you, his super woman with super strength and super everything.

“You can pick one, okay? And we’ll bring it to life together! Poof!” He added sounds to his explanations, catching her attention.

Rosie was impossible to control. She ran from one corner to the other, apologizing adorably when she bumped into a friendly employee. She would pick up a giraffe, no a cat, no, a dog, no, a dragon... Honestly Jake wanted to buy them all. He was aware the mall was closing soon, and he knew better than to torture these poor employees with an excited child who skipped her nap and would crash at any moment (or well, she would when he would stop giving her M&Ms to buy her concentration).

She finally made up her mind on a light golden bear. It came with a flower on its ear and pink paws. “It’s perfect, just like you!” Jake exclaimed and booped her nose. He let the employees teach Rose how to fill the plushie with stuffing until it was the best cuddle buddy in the world.

“How should we name her?”

“Jake!”

He shook his head, trying not to be insulted by the fact she still associated bears with him.

“No!” She listed possibly fifteen names that made less and less sense and gave the employees a headache.

Rose pulled on Jake’s pants, asking him to come down to her level, which he did. “What is Mommy’s favourite flower?” She asked and he answered.

“Daisy!” They both said in sync. It was a perfect name, because the bear had a daisy on it and Jake and you really had this flower theme going on. You, in fact, hesitated between so many flower names for your kid.

“Let’s show Mom your new friend!”

*~*~*

Jake managed to spend the entire car ride without a cry, a scream or a word of complaint until he accidentally woke Rose up from her nap by picking her up. She was tired and fussy. It was dinner time, but you and Jake decided it was better if she slept a bit more before. Your plans for the evening got bumped to tomorrow, but you could not care any less. Rose and Daisy were the new partners in crime and they were too adorable to resist.

“I have another idea!” Jake announced and set Rose down on the couch, inviting you to do the same. He disappeared in the laundry room, where he threw a soft blanket in the dryer with a dryer sheet. He then ran to the kitchen and prepared a platter of hot chocolate. He made sure that Rose’s was just warm enough and he placed a big marshmallow on it. He set the platter down and left again, only to come back with a warm blanket.

He turned on the television to play Frozen and sat on the couch with Rose in between the two of you. Your bodies were wrapped in a coccoon of warmth. And your heart felt the same. Rose quickly fell asleep, she did not even make it to the pat where Olaf appeared, and it was her favourite moment. She snored lightly, clutching on Daisy.

Your head was resting on Jake’s shoulder and you looked up to him.

If somebody told you a couple of years ago that you would live a life like this, you would have never believed it.

You have a beautiful house to live in. A job you love that allowed you as much family time as you wanted. A significant other that was nothing less than your soulmate. And you had this precious soul sleeping soundly with her mouth covered with hot cocoa.

You took a deep breath and Jake stared back into your eyes. The silence said it all.

You wanted nothing more in life than this: the taste of hot chocolate, your child being so peaceful and happy, Jake’s content face lighting up the evening sky and this never ending smell of fresh laundry. Your family was like a basket of clean laundry. So warm, so satisfying, so comforting.

Jake built Rose a bear.

And Jake, Rose and you built a home.

#jake gyllenhaal fluff #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #requests: jake gyllenhaal #one shot: build a bear

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thecassadilla · 4 years

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Preparations

Pairing: Kristanna

Word Count: 1,875/AO3

Summary: Anna and Kristoff ponder nursery themes and paint colors as they prepare to bring their baby into the world.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is my contribution for Kristanna Week Day 3 - Yellow! It’s a very loose follow up to my fic from yesterday’s prompt, Thankful, but it can be read as a standalone. Enjoy!!!

“I’m thinking...yellow,” Anna mused, her fingers poised on her chin in a thinking position as she glanced around the mostly empty room. She was doing her best to picture what the room would look like when it was completed, though the boxes of yet-to-be-assembled furniture were hindering her imagination.

“Yellow?” Kristoff questioned, clearly not seeing her vision.

“Yellow is cheerful. Yellow is neutral.”

“Yellow doesn’t seem neutral to me.”

“It’s one of the go-to colors that people buy when they don’t know the sex of a baby,” she explained. “And someone doesn’t want to find out the sex until birth, ahem.”

“It’s exciting to not know,” he countered. “It’s like waiting for Christmas morning when you’re a kid - you have no idea what you’re gonna get until you actually make it to that day.”

“I guess you’re right,” she muttered under her breath, hoping he wouldn’t hear it.

He cupped his hand behind his ear and leaned closer, a coy smile plastered across his face. “What was that? Did you just admit that I’m right about something?”

She playfully narrowed her eyes. “Don’t make me repeat it. Now back to the paint color - it definitely has to be pale yellow, not a neon yellow.”

He furrowed his eyebrows together, taking another look around the room. “Do you really think that yellow will look good?”

“I think yellow will go nicely with the white crib,” she said, dropping her hand to rest on her swollen belly. “And I think yellow will help me feel awake when I’m ready to pass out from sleep-deprivation. It’ll be like artificial sunlight!”

“Alright, if that’s what you want, then I’ll make it happen,” he smiled wearily, laying his hand on top of hers.

“I want you to like it, too.”

“I’ll like it,” he assured her. “Yellow is...good.”

“Good,” she grinned. “Now I think that the crib should go over there, and then the dresser and the changing table could be on the opposite wall. And I’d like the rocker to be by the windows, so I can look outside during feedings.”

“Your wish is my command.” He glanced down at his watch. “We should probably head to the hardware store now so that way we have enough time to decide on a shade before they close.”

She shook her head. “You go, I’m too tired.”

“You trust me to pick out the right shade?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. “You know what, I’ll just grab a few samples so you can look at them and I can go back and pick it up another time.”

“Of course I trust you, honey. I want you to buy it today,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I know you’ll pick out the perfect shade.”

“No pressure,” he huffed.

“And the sooner we get the room painted, the sooner we can build the crib!”

“I think what you mean to say is that the sooner I paint the room, the sooner I can put the crib together, because you will not be inhaling paint fumes or building furniture for the foreseeable future.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I should get going.”

She puckered her lips and he obliged her with a quick kiss. “Love you! Be careful.”

“Love you, too.”

Kristoff had foolishly assumed that there wouldn’t be a large selection of yellow paint at the store. When he arrived and saw the sheer amount of shades and different brands that the store was selling, his jaw nearly hit the floor and he knew that he would have to make his decision carefully. So, he perused the aisle of the store for what felt like hours and wound up choosing a pale yellow called “Honey Pot,” hoping that it would suit Anna’s taste. In his eyes, it was the perfect shade of yellow; it was noticeably yellow and not just cream-colored, it wasn’t obnoxiously bright, and it would be easy to paint over if they needed to repaint the room in the future.

When he returned home from the hardware store, paint in tow, he was hoping that he would find Anna upstairs in the nursery. Instead, he found her on the recliner in the living room, fast asleep. He thought back to the baby book he’d read, and remembered that pregnant women were not supposed to sleep on their backs and he instantly became panicked.

He rushed over to her side, and gently shook her shoulder. “Anna? Anna, baby, wake up.”

She groaned, opening her eyes and turning to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re not supposed to be sleeping on your back.”

She glared at him. “You should count your lucky stars that I can’t get up off this chair and tackle you.”

“I’m sorry, I just panicked,” he explained. “I read that it’s not good for the baby.”

“Oh, honey, I really appreciate that you’re concerned, but I was fine. We were fine.”

“I’m really sorry for waking you up, but on the plus side, I got the paint.”

“About that…”

“What?”

“I changed my mind. I don’t think we should paint the room yellow,” she said sheepishly, grabbing her phone and typing in the passcode. “I read online that yellow can be too over-stimulating for babies. It makes them fussier, and then they cry more.”

“Fantastic,” he muttered.

“I think we should actually paint it light grey, and then get bedding that’s yellow and grey. And yellow curtains. Here, like this.”

She handed him the phone, which was displaying a picture of the nursery that she’d just described. She was right, the grey paint was infinitely better than the yellow. He sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know if the paint is returnable.”

“I’m sure it is,” she said, as he handed the phone back to her. “It’s not like you used any of it. People change their minds all the time.”

“I don’t know if there’s a ‘my pregnant wife is indecisive’ clause in their return policy, but I’ll look at the receipt.”

“You’re the best,” she smiled.

“The store is closed but when I go back tomorrow you’re coming with me to pick out the grey paint. You have no idea how grueling it was to try and figure out what shade of yellow you’d like.”

“I’m not picky. As long as it wasn’t highlighter yellow, I wouldn’t have had any complaints.”

“I did my best, but I’m glad it’s going back because you changed your mind about the color altogether and not because you didn’t like the color I picked.”

“I’m sure the shade you picked was perfect,” she assured him before returning the recliner to its upright position and holding her arms out. “Would you mind helping me up? I wasn’t kidding when I said I couldn’t get out of this chair.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Much later that night, Kristoff was preparing for the nursery to be painted; he moved the stack of boxes to the hallway, careful to leave room for them to pass by and had just finished laying the tarp on the floor when he heard Anna call him from their bedroom.

“Kristoff, I need your help!”

Her tone made it sound quite urgent and he immediately dropped what he was doing in order to rush to her side. “What’s wrong?” he asked, breathless from his sprint.

Nothing appeared to be wrong at first glance; she was merely sat up in bed with her laptop resting on her thighs. She motioned for him to come closer. “I need your help picking a theme for the nursery.”

“Oh that’s it? You scared me, I thought something was wrong with you or the baby.”

“We’re fine, baby’s kicking up a storm,” she assured him, patting the top of her belly and smiling. “Just indecisive. Come look.”

He sat down next to her on the bed and she turned the laptop to face him. “What’re we looking at?”

“So, I really like this bedding here - yellow, grey, and white chevron. It incorporates the color of the walls and the crib with the paint color that we originally wanted.” She pointed to the picture on the screen before dragging her finger over to the picture next to it. “But this one is safari-themed. The crib sheet is yellow with cute baby monkeys and giraffes and zebras, but the comforter that comes with it is grey and white, so it works. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a big decision. Which do you like?”

“I can’t decide. I need your input.”

“I’m not really good at this stuff,” he insisted. “You’re better at the interior design stuff. I’ll stick to painting walls and building furniture.”

“But I want your help,” Anna pleaded with a pout.

He looked back at the screen, studying each of the pictures before giving her his final verdict. “Baby animals.”

She smiled triumphantly. “That’s what I was thinking! I’m going to add it to our registry.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t decide,” he chuckled.

“I didn’t want you to be complaisant and go along with the one I like because I like it. I value your opinion and this baby is as much yours as it is mine, so you should have a say.”

“That’s true but you’re the one who has to endure being pregnant. It’s only fair to let you have the final say.”

“Don’t make me power hungry,” she laughed. She closed the laptop and twisted to put it on her nightstand. “Next up, you’ll say that I get the final say on the name, too.”

He smiled coyly. “I’m definitely not saying that.”

“Drats.” She snapped her fingers in defeat.

“Only twelve more weeks. Can you believe it?”

“I can’t. I’m glad the morning sickness stage is over, but I don’t know how I can get any bigger than this. I’ve already lost the ability to see my feet when I’m standing. And the pressure on my back? Ugh, it’s the worst.”

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s not hard, it’s just a little overwhelming. I’m tired, and grouchy, and I feel like a walrus.” She turned her attention to her belly and poked at it with her finger. “And I wish you’d stop using my bladder as a punching bag.”

“You’re not a walrus. You’re beautiful, and strong, and if you need a back massage or you want your toes painted, then I’m your guy.”

She smiled. “Thank you, sweetie. And by the way, this baby is obsessed with you. Whenever you talk to me, it's nothing but nonstop kicks and somersaults. Here, feel,” she said, grabbing his hand and holding it to her belly.

“That never gets old,” he smiled, relishing the sensation of the baby moving against his palm.

“It’s all fun and games until there’s a foot lodged in your ribcage,” she giggled.

“Feels like there’s a party in there,” he chuckled. “How about we make this a real party? I’ll bring you up some ice cream.”

“Ooh, ice cream in bed? That sounds wonderful.”

“Mint chocolate chip?”

Her eyes widened and she nodded excitedly. “Um, yes. How is it possible that you know what I’m craving before I do?”

He smirked. “I speak fluent Anna.”

#kristannaweek2020 #kristanna week 2020 #kristanna #anna #kristoff bjorgman #frozen #frozen fic #my writing

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awesomehoggirl · 4 years

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it’s wip wednesday so i thought i’d share a quick writing wip from my multi chapter fem howince fic which will maybe be done in 20 years ! it’s got 8 chapters and i am still on chapter 2 if this gets finished it’ll be a miracle. the fic is called eau d’bedroom dancing because i love le tigre and imagine how fantastic riot grrl vince would be ...

mentioning before hand that i write all my first drafts and oneshots with no capitals because i find it a lot easier but with this fic when i go back over i’ll put capitals in :) (also this is a section from chapter one not the opening)

—

her name is vincenzia mirabella lucie-marié le manteau rafflesia vaisseau-spatial noire (the longest name in the class, and the only one never written up on the ‘star student!’ chalkboard) but everyone refers to her as vince. she’s new to the school, and seemingly england, but her accent is pure south london. two teachers have quit because of her already. holly moon has never been so interested in a person in her entire tiny life.

oh, she’s read up on musicians, heard their stories, wished ever so slightly that her life would someday be just as interesting — did you know nina simone had seven siblings, that john coltrane was in the navy? but the weirdness that seems to just bounce off vince’s tongue beats every story she’s ever read hands down.

it quickly becomes apparent that she’s borderline feral: if the staff-room murmurs of the teachers are to be believed, she came from a ‘neglectful home’; if vince’s own word is to be accepted, she was raised in the jungle by a cast of rock stars, animals and french nobility. holly is sensible enough to doubt her at first, but before long (and after many demonstrations of her ability to talk to animals) she’s genuinely on board. they sit behind the ash tree at lunch time, out of sight from dribbling boys and disapproving teachers, and holly figures out that through half a chocolate bar vince can be coaxed into revealing all sorts about her unorthodox childhood.

‘dunno why you’re so desperate to know about my life,’ vince complains once, when asked again to tell the story about the great order of frogs and the backwards waterfall. ‘why can’t i hear stories about you for a change?’

‘all in good time,’ says holly, whose mother is a tax attorney married to a geography teacher. ‘plus, i know you love the attention.’

and so vince sits there and talks until she goes hoarse, or loses interest, or feels like changing the subject right at a crucial moment, or the school bell rings and they have to go inside. she talks about her house made of bus tickets and her animal friends, her french duke uncle who would come down on bank holidays and teach her table manners, about joining the jackals for hunts, about skimming the treetops in the claws of squabbling vultures, about the hoots and screeches of the monkeys as they chased her through the undergrowth on the back of a hippopotamus. and holly will listen breathlessly, trying to seem nonplussed when in reality she is clinging to every last word. (tell me again about the paper-mache tiger and the rhinoceros’ game nights. tell me again again again.)

because no matter how hard her sensible brain tries, she really can’t prove them wrong. vince is hopeless at all forms of spelling or arithmetic. she is genuinely flabbergasted when explained to that, in fact, biting and shoving are not always seen as ‘playful’ in the human world. she swears like a sailor (or perhaps a rockstar) would, until the little old lady vicar gasps, snaps her bible shut and refuses to read to the year six class ever again. idioms are beyond her, let alone algebra, and the teachers insist there’s no hope — but they can’t help liking her, despite it all. there’s something so genuine about her ever-present toothy grin, her bubbly demeanour, that they soon allow her to get away with anything.

and yet holly is her best friend. and the only person (maybe in the world) vince will tell her stories to.

‘once upon a time,’ she begins one lunch break, dipping holly’s generous sacrifice of a curly wurly into her pocket for later, ‘i was out with jahooli the leopard, who was my best friend — he’d give me rides on his back when i was really small, swattin’ the bloodsuckers away with his giant tail. he’d catch me fish in his big strong jaws, crush ‘em up so i could eat ‘em right, i was just a nipper, i’d not got all my teeth in yet, but he was a right sweetheart about that sort of thing. on the surface jahooli always seemed to be a reckless character, a real rough-and-tumble kind of cat, but i knew the reality: he’d lost his mate and his litter and he was gettin’ on a bit, i was all he had left in terms of fatherhood. it meant he did get a bit invasive at times, yeah, he could be real clingy. i didn’t mind though, see, i’m wise beyond my years, so i was quite good with all that stuff, i let him vent to me when it all got a bit too much for his poor leopard heart to handle. anyway, this one day he was lookin’ after me, on account of my foster father bryan ferry being away on tour. and it was a hot afternoon, this one. really hot.’ she sinks down on her heels. ‘the kinda hot that drenches you in sweat no matter how still you stand. the kinda humid that makes your palms slick and your eyelashes heavy. most of the animals were tucked away underground by midday, but the bigger sorts like me and jahooli, we couldn’t exactly join them. so jahooli said, why don’t we make our way down to the river?’

holly feels her spine prickle. it is eerie, the way her friend’s stories pull her in.

she follows vince along to said river, feels jahooli’s long speckled tail curling round her shoulders, bumping against her collarbones, keeping her close. feels the slick wetness of the air, feels the burn of her lungs as they work in shallow pumping gasps. breathes in the hot dark of the bush, the low chatter of the canopy. soon the lumbering gait of the leopard slows, the river is in sight — the banks are busy with boars, bucks and buffalo, sunning lizards and mice. slow-blinking crocodiles cruise in the shallows. vince is not afraid of them. (holly would be.)

‘is it true if you’re being chased by a crocodile you should run in a zig-zag pattern?’ she interrupts (not because the story is getting a little too tense for her or anything).

vince rolls her eyes, makes a face as if holly has asked her the stupidest question in the world (considering just yesterday she asked holly whether all numbers bite or if the three digit ones are just especially fiesty, they clearly have different opinions on what counts as a ‘stupid question’). ‘if a crocodile were to haul its fat arse out of the nice cool water just to give you a bit of trouble, you probably did something awful to deserve it. why? are you plannin’ to go pokin’ sticks at ‘em? cause if you are, insult their music taste, they’ll go absolutely mental. most crocodiles are obsessed with alice cooper, so there’s a good starting point, have that one on me.’

‘so what’s—‘

‘oi, hush! do you want this story or not?’

holly shuts up. vince lowers her voice.

the jungle is sweaty now, the riverbanks a dripping piccadilly circus. jahooli has left vince’s side, gone to make conversation with ranbir the great panther, so she ventures alone to the water’s edge (the animals watch over her, they all like her, tiny and pink and strange as she is) and dips her feet in. the water is so clear and cold it hurts, but soon the pain ebbs and gives way to a calm coolness. she sits down, slides in up to her knees, lies back against the soft mud

the jungle is treacle now, bubbling and pooling, thick. vince soon drifts off and the leaves behind her eyelids are red. the stars are wheeling gulls, the air is thick with salt-spit, her eyelashes tangle and she slips down into the mud. somewhere else, the dulcet waves begin to lap. the elephants have arrived. jahooli and ranbir share a look before they approach, hackles raised (they are not mean-spirited creatures, but they do like to play a prank).

the jungle is long gone now, and vince dreams of strawberry ice cream. somewhere else, jahooli and ranbir wind around each other dizzyingly, teeth flashing slick and sharp. somewhere else, the elephants are fussing, distressed by their feline dance, their ashy trunks whirling as they back up their feet. pelts twist and brush together before the big-cats turn, open their jaws and let out a combined roar that wakes vince, sends animals scattering, splits the sky in two —

and the jungle rumbles. and the elephants charge.

#this is such a weird section for me to use as a teaser LMAOO im so sorry #vince noir #howard moon #howince #wip wednesday #primmy writes #the mighty boosh

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transparentheartz · 3 years

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day 7!! hello again, i'm so sorry about the last message i want to cry, i can't believe i messed so badly :((( but we're going to ignore it and move on

aww that's so sweet, i love getting your messages too, makes getting up so much better!

oh god you're really really busy!! take it easy and if you don't have time to reply i completely understand<33 it's just that time of year, i spent most of yesterday finishing up an essay but i still have one more to go and three portfolios to revise... college is rough ahah

i work in a discount store, it's known for being really cheap and probably scams so many people but its a job so i can't complain too much! i basically just stock shelves, serve customers or blow up balloons and do arrangements (which is my fav thing to do!!) the shifts i mainly do are like 10-7, 11-8 or 1-10, which aren't terrible... how about you? (only if you're comfy sharing!!)

that's so sweet! i think my mam wishes she had a method like that when i was a baby, i cried a lot. that's good that you can sleep in the car tho, i know a few people who can't! i mainly read during long drives or listen to music... for college i have a bus journey that's like 1-2 hours depending on traffic and i love sleeping on the bus, it's like you're in a another world idk how to describe it! time works differently!

aw no, i hate to hear that :(( especially with covid, i've found a lot of my friends are v v uncomfortable with crowds now... i don't really have a problem with crowds thankfully! maybe you could do something else with your sister, like go to the cinema or out for dinner? or even better you don't have to do anything if you don't want to! hopefully your fam will understand. i love concerts, like if we could go back to the 1990's i want to be a groupie like it's my calling. tell me more about what concerts you're hoping to go to?? how do you find crowds in concerts? hopefully i'll be going to 5sos, louis (!!!) and yungblud next year, i'm buzzing!

i'm so afraid to tell people this but i only recently got into 1d and louis (i'm like hiding my face rn), i always refused anything girlie when i was younger so naturally i said i didn't like 1d... but then when H released HS1 i fell in love, i played it non stop and to this day it's such a special album to me... then covid happened and i got really into 1d and louis quickly became my fav, and i fell in love with his lyrics and perosnality and here we are!! i do have one friend i can talk about 1d with but she's not a larrie, she says she's neutral :// you're a legend for converting her! i love that you have a friend irl you can talk about that with tho, i feel like it's so taboo to talk about reading fics irl, so i don't really bring it up...

oh wow you buy books so differently to me! i like simple concise writing with strong characters, the only books i've dnf-ed are ones where the writing is so flower-y i can't concentrate on the story, if that makes sense! i have to ask if you like the spicy scenes, have you read sarah j maas or 'from blood and ash'? they're the main spicy ya ones i know! i tend to save my spice for fics ahaha fantasy can be overwhelming, i've just always read it, started with harry potter at like age 8 ish and here we are :DD

for the piercings, i have my two lobes done and my cartilage and tbh i'm pretty happy with that, its already a struggle to match earrings i can't imagine anymore!! what about you??

i love animals, i have two dogs (labradors, one golden, one black!) called Macey and Poppy, a cat whose name is Katie (i have no idea why) and a donkey called Eeyore (like in winnie the pooh!) i live in the countryside so there's loads of space! do' you've any pets?

for makeup, i'm quite a natural gal tbh, i hate the way foundation feels on my skin. i will use a bit of highlighter but my go to is mascara and brow gel for everyday. when i'm going out i love eyeliner, i'm obsessed with blue atm! how about you??

i enjoyed writng this so much! have a great great day, you're such a lovely person, so don't let anyone tell you otherwise! <3

- your ss <3

hii! i’m not sure what you’re talking about, you didn’t mess anything up in the last message, at least not that i know of.

i work at barnes and nobles. i’ve always wanted to work there and have been applying since i was like sixteen. it’s a lot more work than i expected it to be but i’m enjoying it so far. i basically shelve books, stock toys, answer the phone, place orders, help people find books. it’s just a lot of running around really. my shifts usually go from 9-2, 3/4-9, or sometimes 1-7. or different shifts also. we’re about to start staying open an hour later cause the holidays so yay …

i love reading in the car. my mom says she doesn’t know how i do it cause she gets motion sick doing it (i got my love for reading from her) i always make sure i have headphone with me when i go on trips especially cause my dad doesn’t like to listen to music that comes out now, he likes music that was popular when he was younger.

i’m always checking my surroundings in crowds, even if it’s at the store. i just feel like something bad could happen at any moment. for concerts i think about the ariana grande thing that happened a lot, always afraid something like that will happen again but i try my best to enjoy my time bc i don’t want to miss out on something fun just because my anxiety. i want to see 5sos, louis and yungblud too !! i love them all so much. i was thinking of going to olivia rodrigos tour too but i’m not sure yet.

i never talked about 1d with people not even my family. they knew i liked them but not the extent i do. my sister heard me and my friend talking about larry once but she just laughed and was like whatever. i wasn't ashamed or anything i just didn't talk to anyone in school fr that i considered a good enough friend. also everyone where i live only care about boys, weed, and drinking (even in 8th grade) so yeah.

yeah idk i’m really weird about books, not a lot of stuff holds my attention so that’s why i read the beginning of the book before i buy it just in case. i haven’t read anything from sarah j mass, i think i only know of one of her books and it didn’t seem interesting to me so i never looked into her (isnt she also really problematic?) i haven’t read hp or hardly seen the movies only parts of them (but i love harry potter aus lmao)

i had three holes in each ear but got a keloid on one and had to get it removed then just let the others close too. they annoyed me anyways. i have a normal nose piercing (got it like three weeks ago) and a septum piercing (got it last year)

i have a chihuahua she’s so small, her name is xena. my mom has a shitzshu named lucky he’s annoying. i had another chihuahua before xena named pepper for like five years but she passed away a few months ago :( i miss her sm

i also don’t wear makeup, mostly bc i don’t know how to do it and have no patience to learn. i used to wear mascara but i cry easily, like when i laugh or something sad happens so i stopped i could do waterproof mascara but i don’t care enough to.

questions ..

any siblings ? younger or older ?

random but, what kind of car do you drive ?

what’s the last three songs you listen to ?

hope you have/had an amazing day!

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bindy417 · 8 years

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At the Edge of the Ocean (Olicity AU fic Part 1)

Hey guys, I’d been toying for weeks with the idea of doing a unique Olicity AU one-shot. I very rarely write fics with mystical elements but once this idea popped into my head, I couldn’t get it out. I also blame @agentsassydirewolf for letting me rant about it and adding fuel to the fire in my creative brain! Thank you, and I hate you (just kidding...kinda sorta)! ;)

Anyway, I’ve always loved mermaids. They are by far my favorite mythical creature. I recently re-watched Splash (a big, glorious mistake) and felt compelled to finally bring my Olicity mermaid AU obsession to life. This was originally going to be a one-shot but while writing yesterday, I realized there was too much to cram into a single post. I also wanted to have this posted in time for Valentine’s Day, so I’m splitting it up into two parts (I’m still working on the second one right now).

I haven’t yet decided if this might turn into a short, mutli-chapter ficlet. But let me know if you guys want to read more, and I might add it to my list of future fics to work on. I’m not sure how the visual aspects and edits will format on AO3, so I’m posting strictly to Tumblr for now.

Thanks in advance for reading, everyone, and Happy Valentine’s Day!

Pairing: Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak

Rating: T

Summary: AU. Oliver almost drowns when the Queen’s Gambit sinks and is saved by a mysterious creature. When he learns that his savior is actually a beautiful mermaid named Felicity, Oliver can’t decided if he’s more shocked by her existence or the fact that he feels such a strong connection to her. Coming from two different worlds, Oliver and Felicity must decided if their love is true and what they’re willing to sacrifice to make it work.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Arrow or any of its characters. Except for the Olicity edits, the rest of the images and gifs aren’t mine.

Chapter 1:

It was rare that Oliver Queen, billionaire playboy, thought about falling in love. He knew it would happen someday–when he was older, more mature, and done with his partying ways. He knew whoever he chose to love would be beautiful. She would be charming. She would be smart. She would be well-connected. And most importantly, in a bright and bustling metropolis like Starling City, she would be a vision by his side that dazzled.

Not once did Oliver think he wouldn’t have a choice in who he loved. Fate was nothing more than an illusion of grandeur. Something desperate people told themselves to make their choices in life seem more important. No one but Oliver Queen would be the master of his destiny. No one but himself would have control over his heart.

It was the complete and utter truth until she came along. She was unexpected. She was dazzling. She was everything…but human.

The day she’d first come into his life had started like any other. Spring break was almost over, and Oliver’s father Robert had convinced him they were in need some of some good, old-fashioned father-son time before Oliver returned to college. His mother Moira and little sister Thea would, naturally, stay behind in Starling while Oliver and Robert took to the high seas on the family yacht, the Queen’s Gambit, as they’d done many times before.

The storm seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. The wind howled as the waves roiled, thrashing violently against the boat. The Queen’s Gambit teetered back and forth precariously on the dark, choppy water. Oliver wasn’t one to normally get seasick, but even his iron stomach had begun to feel queasy.

It was the middle of the night and he was exhausted, but Oliver got up anyway to find his father. He wanted to know exactly how much longer they’d have to weather through the storm. That’s when it happened…

The yacht suddenly lurched. Loud clanging and cracking sounds rang out around him before Oliver was plunged into cold, wet darkness.

As he opened his mouth to shout for help, his lungs filled with icy water. His chest seized, and his limbs flailed to find purchase. There was nothing to keep Oliver from drifting down deeper into the dark abyss. Already he could feel his body becoming sluggish and his limbs heavy.

His eyes were almost completely closed when he thought he saw movement. Something touched Oliver’s shoulder, but he was too far gone to be concerned. Whether it was by the ocean or some unseen predator, he was about to die. Various images of his family flashed before his eyes: attending his first baseball game with his father, his mother helping him get ready for a school dance, and five-year-old Thea begging him to play tea party with her and her dolls. Much like the water flooding his lungs, Oliver was filled with overwhelming sorrow and panic that he’d never see them again.

As he slowly slipped into unconsciousness, Oliver felt himself moving through the water. There was a solid pressure against his back and shoulders, as if a pair of arms were wrapped around him and squeezing tightly.

Oliver didn’t know how long he’d been out before he eventually awoke to find himself drifting in a life raft. His eyes felt swollen, his lungs burned, and all of his muscles ached but at least he was alive. The same, unfortunately, couldn’t be said for his father or the crew. Oliver was alone and as he gazed out at the now calm water and lack of noticeable debris, he knew they were all most likely dead.

Dehydrated, Oliver couldn’t even form the tears he needed to mourn his father properly. He didn’t move for the longest time. It wasn’t until much later that he discovered a small ration of food and water tucked into a compartment in the raft.

Oliver quickly lost any concept of time. It could’ve been a couple of days or an entire week that had passed. His mind drifted as aimlessly as the raft that sheltered him. The moment he truly knew his sanity had abandoned him was when he thought he saw a pink fishtail breaking the surface of the water in the moonlight. In fact, there were several times that he imagined something pink lurking just beneath the surface.

Finally, Oliver opened his eyes to see an island in the distance. He was so close, and yet the current wasn’t with him. There were no ores in the life raft to paddle himself to shore. Maybe Oliver could jump into the water and swim, but he wasn’t strong enough to tug the raft with him, too. Abandoning it was out of the question, since it was too valuable to lose.

Oliver was cold, tired, hungry, and about to let himself pass out again when the raft had suddenly jutted forward. He flew backward onto the floor, bewildered, before quickly scrambling up. Something had to be beneath him, because the raft was moving as if a motor was attached to it.

“What the hell?” Oliver had muttered, feeling both scared and oddly hopeful as the island grew closer.

Minutes later, he was almost to the shore when the raft abruptly stopped. It was all the encouragement Oliver needed. Without a second thought, he jumped over the side and into the water. It was frigid and came up to his waist. Hissing from the sudden shock of sensation, Oliver took hold of the raft and yanked it with him the rest of the way to shore.

He collapsed on the rocky terrain, just barely managing to keep from whacking his head. Or maybe he did because he lost consciousness after that. It was around dusk that Oliver cracked open his eyes to find a strange, shadowed creature perched on another set of rocks nearby.

His heart lifted upon seeing its slender curves and long hair. It looked like a woman until his gaze drifted down to find the outline of a tail. Was he really imagining some kind of freakishly giant fish again? And why was it also a woman now? Had the sun fried his brain, or was he already that lonely? Oliver’s questions went unanswered because as soon as he’d blinked, the mysterious creature was gone.

The next morning, after he’d clumsily foraged for some food, Oliver had thoroughly convinced himself that the creature he’d seen was nothing more than a figment of his imagination. A hallucination, in fact, caused by the delirium of spending so many days drifting out at sea.

From that point on, Oliver was determined to do whatever it took to stay in the right frame of mind. He’d explored the island, which seemed to be uninhabited, as best he could. There was a brook where he could drink fresh water and a few edible plants. Being a city boy put him at a disadvantage, but Oliver did remember some lessons from the time he’d been trying to earn his Boy Scout survival badge years ago. He even gathered wood for a fire. Upon further inspection of the raft, Oliver discovered a small box of emergency tools and a first-aid kit. Among the items was a lighter, which had proved useful.

Slowly but surely, Oliver felt some of his strength returning. He didn’t have any more random hallucinations, which was automatically a good sign. However, he couldn’t survive on just plants and berries. The pains in his stomach were becoming uncomfortable. He was craving food with more substance, such as bread and meat.

Since there obviously wasn’t a bakery on the island and he had no idea how to hunt live game, Oliver turned to the sea for sustenance. He used to go fishing with his father all the time as a kid. Seeing as though he didn’t have any hooks or fishing line, Oliver fashioned himself a spear from a long, thick stick and waded into the water. He chose the rockier, enclosed cove areas because that’s where fish often liked to frequent.

Nevertheless, Oliver quickly learned that spearing fish was nothing like hooking them. He had to stand as still as a statue in the cold water while being as quick as lightning. He’d been in that exact spot for hours when he got so frustrated that he dove right under, intent on using his bare hands to catch the slippery suckers. It was eat or perish, and so Oliver just had to catch something.

It came as no surprise that the fish escaped his grasp, and yet Oliver almost inhaled a mouthful of water in shock. About ten feet away, swimming off into the distance, was a long pink tail attached to a human body. It was that creature again, only this time it didn’t have the darkness to hide it. The light seeping through the water showed what looked like long blond hair and shapely curves.

Mermaid, Oliver’s mind shouted.

He sprinted out of the water and back to land, gasping and shaking as he tripped over his own feet to put as much distance between himself and the beach as possible.

His logical mind searched for some kind of explanation; the hallucination excuse was getting old. Plus, she’d just looked so damn real.

Real or not, Oliver had dragged the raft deeper into the woods that night, pulled the covering over the top, and slept inside. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the water. Recounting every single mermaid movie Thea had made him sit through growing up, Oliver tried to remember the legends. If it was like The Little Mermaid, then mermaids couldn’t just come and go on land as they pleased. Ariel’s tail had been permanent, which was why she sought out Ursula’s magic. On the other hand, if it was like Splash, then mermaids could dry off and immediately have a pair of legs. The latter was exactly what Oliver was afraid of.

He’d avoided the beach completely the next couple of days and stayed strictly in the woods. Oliver was on his guard every minute but, luckily, nothing human or otherwise popped out at him. The third day, unfortunately, he couldn’t put off going to the beach any longer. Oliver had been in the process of making a large pit for a signal fire that he needed to finish as soon as possible. If there was even the slightest chance of a boat passing by in the distance, then Oliver had to be ready.

Although his spear had been useless in catching fish, it was the best weapon he had besides the Swiss Army knife tucked into his pocket. Oliver carried the spear tightly in his hand as he approached the beach. He didn’t know what exactly he was expecting. There wasn’t much that could be done to change the natural scenery, but nothing suspicious stuck out at him right away either.

Oliver had never been afraid of the water before but after that terrible storm and the possible creepy creatures lurking beneath the surface, it gave him the chills. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the unending hunger pains in his stomach, Oliver approached the pit and took stock of how much more work needed to be done. He walked over to the pile of wood he’d gathered to find the best pieces and immediately froze.

Beside the wood was another pile, but this one was made up of fish. There was also a message carved into the sand.

Oliver reared back, this time because of astonishment rather than fear. He blinked rapidly several times but the words remained. The mermaid not only knew how to spell, but she was apologizing. And for what? Scaring him the other day?

Staring once again at the fish, Oliver’s stomach growled loudly. He’d seen enough Sci-Fi horror movies to know that a seemingly kind gesture could be the ultimate trap. But if he didn’t eat food with some nutrients soon, he’d be weaker than he already was. The large fire pit forgotten for the moment, Oliver made a smaller pile and ignited it. Then, he whipped out the knife and proceeded to skin and splay the fish open. He skewered the edible parts and then proceeded to cook them over the fire. When they were done, Oliver set upon them like a wild animal. He barely could register the taste, because he was swallowing faster than he was chewing.

His stomach, finally satisfied, rumbled loudly afterward. Oliver glanced at the water, his eyes searching for a splash of pink among the waves. When he didn’t see anything of the sort, he returned to his original task. The food he’d consumed gave him a necessary burst of energy, and he was able to get a lot done. Just before leaving, Oliver scribbled his own message into the sand.

More time passed, and the pattern continued. Oliver would arrive on the beach every morning to find fish or other edible seafood waiting for him. Sometimes there was another short message like a greeting or tip about the island. The mermaid was actually clever and suggested making multiple pits and scattering them to cover the most ground.

Although the idea that something like her existed still freaked him out, Oliver couldn’t ignore that she was a valuable resource. He was almost positive that she was the one who’d saved him in the water and pushed him to shore. Now she was giving him food and advice. The back-and-forth exchange, no matter how small or limited, also kept him from feeling totally isolated. Despite hoping that his father might wash up on the shore in a similar fashion, Oliver never did see any signs that pieces of the wreckage could’ve reached his current location–wherever the hell that was.

What he really wanted to know most of all was why she was sticking around and helping him. Didn’t mermaids prefer to be off frolicking in the deep sea with the dolphins or whatever other friendly fish existed? And if there was one mermaid, then there naturally had to be more elsewhere. Was she alone, or did she have a family of her own to return to? He didn’t even know her name.

That evening, before returning to his makeshift shelter in the woods, Oliver scribbled a slightly different message in the sand.

All night he tossed and turned as the unending questions plagued him. He briefly considered sneaking back to the beach to get a glimpse of her but was afraid it might scare her off. The mermaid had been careful to avoid direct contact with him ever since that day he’d gone fishing.

Upon first light, Oliver was up and racing through the woods. He scanned the shore and felt his heart skip a beat when he saw her answer.

Felicity. The mermaid’s name was Felicity. It sounded so free-spirited and beautiful, which he told her when he wrote back. Oliver had disappeared into the woods after that to get more wood and supplies. When he returned, a new message was waiting for him. His heart sped up yet again, because she’d never answered him twice in the same day before.

Felicity had thanked him and said that he was cute, too, which meant that she had to be nearby right now watching. Did Felicity have a crush on him? Was that why she’d been helping him? Also, why did Oliver feel invigorated by that fact instead of scared?

He wrote in response, Not fair that you can see me but I can’t see you. He added a winking smiley face and leaned back to stare at the words. Was he actually flirting, with a mermaid no less, using silly scribbles in the sand?

Yes, he was. If anyone back home could see former playboy Oliver Queen now, they’d be laughing their ass off at him—and probably calling him crazy. Before Oliver could second-guess himself, he stood up and walked away. He didn’t return until later that night.

Soon, was Felicity’s response.

That time, his heart skipped an entire beat and he quickly knelt in the sand to reply. Can you walk?

No, she’d eventually written back. Need to stay near water.

Their conversation continued over the next several days. I can come into the water…

No! Too dangerous. Stay on the shore please.

Her response brought Oliver up short. He was no fan of the ocean anymore, but Felicity’s warning made it seem like there was something other than mystical mermaids like her that he needed to watch out for.

Ok I’ll stay on shore.

Promise me.

I promise. But I still want to see you.

That was the last correspondence they’d had. It was like Felicity suddenly disappeared after that. She’d even stopped bringing him piles of fish. Days turned into weeks. Oliver was apparently on his own again, and he cursed himself for pushing Felicity before she was ready. He hadn’t meant to scare her away. In addition to the struggles of hunting for his own food, the loneliness was setting back in. But he kept his promise. No matter how badly Oliver wanted to search for her, he didn’t go into the water.

Surprised by how much he missed Felicity, despite them having never actually met, Oliver visited the beach often in a vain attempt to still feel connected to her. It was during a walk late one night that Oliver’s world was righted while simultaneously being turned upside down. He hadn’t been close to the main beach. He’d traveled farther down to a part of the cove that came right up to the woods. Instead of sand, the ground was covered in tiny stones. The silver light of the full moon made them look like they were glowing. But the natural view wasn’t what initially took his breath away.

There, on the rocky shore, sat a beautiful mermaid in all her glory. She had long, wavy blond hair that had mostly dried. Her skin was fair like porcelain. The defined but delicate features of her face captivated him. She looked young—probably in her late teens. Oliver couldn’t see the exact color of her eyes, but they were light. Blue was his guess. Her nose was small, and her cheeks were flushed. When her lips parted, Oliver noticed them painted a rich pink.

Oliver didn’t stop there. He couldn’t. His eyes traveled the length of her body and lingered on the cleavage peeking out over the tops of her shell bra. Her waist was toned and curvy, leading into a long tail. The scales were multi-faceted shades of pink and glistened from the reflected moonlight. Her fins were wide but compact and remained partially in the water.

“Felicity?” Oliver murmured in disbelief.

“Hi, Oliver.” Her voice was just as he’d imagined it–soft and melodic. “Surprise…” Felicity seemed nervous, waiting for his reaction. She bit her lip and fiddled with her hands in her lap.

“You’re…stunning,” he breathed and meant it.

Felicity was the most beautiful woman—creature?—he'd ever seen. Oliver probably should've been scared right then and regretted such a thought. He was face to face with a mermaid, for crying out loud. Nothing like this was supposed to exist in the real world. But he wasn't scared or ashamed. In fact, Oliver was calm because Felicity looked just as curious and amazed by him.

Blushing, she replied, "Thank you.”

A charged silence passed between them.

She must’ve mistaken his silence for apprehension because she added, “If this is too much and you've changed your mind, I can go. I won't bother you again." She seemed sad by the prospect but resolute.

"No!" Oliver exclaimed. In the still night, it came out like a shout. She flinched, and he quickly apologized. "No. Please stay. I just want to talk. I have so many questions."

“I know you do. I might not be able to answer them all.” She revealed, “I’m really not even supposed to be here.”

“You’re not?” She shook her head. “Then why did you come back?”

Her eyes roamed his face. “Because I wanted to make sure you were okay. And I...I missed you,” she admitted somewhat shyly.

Oliver wasn’t exactly sure what she could’ve missed about him considering she’d been more helpful to him than he’d been to her. But the sentiment seemed genuine, and he was filled with a surge of warmth in his chest. Motioning to the ground beside her, Oliver took a seat when she nodded. He kept a couple of feet of distance between them. This situation was new to both of them, and they were still trying to assess the other.

“How are you real?” Oliver questioned and immediately wanted to kick himself.

Thankfully, Felicity wasn’t offended. She simply smiled and said, “I’m sure you’ve heard many of the legends. Mermaids have been around for over 4,000 years. But unlike humans, we like to keep a low profile. The vast majority of the ocean has remained unexplored by your kind, and we take advantage of that.”

“How are you able to speak and write in English?”

“Just because we are not of your world, doesn’t mean we don’t know of its ways. We try to learn as much as we can so that we can peacefully coexist. If we ever are in danger of being discovered, then it helps to be able to blend in.”

Oliver became more confused. “So you are able to go on land? Because I thought you said you couldn’t walk.”

“It’s complicated.” She didn’t elaborate, and so Oliver let it go.“Why were you on that boat?”

Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, Oliver said, “My dad and I were taking a weekend sailing trip. We didn’t expect the storm.” He hesitated, debating whether to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. Although he needed answers, he also dreaded them.

Felicity was watching him intently. “You want to know if there’s a chance your father and the others survived.” He was a little surprised that she’d been able to read him so easily but nodded. “I’m so sorry, Oliver.”

It was all she had to say. Glancing away from her, Oliver stared out at the gentle waves breaking along the shore. The ocean was calm now, but he wasn’t fooled. He’d experienced firsthand its vindictive fury. Somewhere in the dark depths his father’s body was lost. Oliver wasn’t religious, but this one time he prayed that Robert Queen’s soul had gone on to a better place.

The pair sat quietly for a few minutes. When he felt Felicity’s fingers graze his own, Oliver startled. Thinking he was repulsed by her touch, she began to pull back. Oliver swiftly grabbed hold of her hand and firmly kept it in his grasp. The human (or half-human) contact was a welcomed shock to his system. He hadn’t just been starving for food. Oliver had been starving for touch and comfort in its most basic form.

“Thank you for saving me,” he told her, holding her gaze. “I’m still not entirely sure why you took such a risk, but I appreciate it.”

“You probably would’ve done the same if you’d seen someone in trouble.”

Oliver didn’t have the heart to tell Felicity that he was a spoiled, selfish brat on a good day and probably wouldn’t have taken the risk if it came down to himself or someone else. For his father, yes. But for a random stranger? Probably not. And unlike Felicity, Oliver wouldn’t have had as much to lose.

Felicity had taken a huge chance in revealing herself to him, especially since she alluded to the fact that it was forbidden. Yet, there she sat holding his hand and giving him the benefit of the doubt. She was either a really compassionate person or some kind of super siren working to build his trust so she could suck out his soul when he least expected it. He assumed it was the first option but...

Oliver suddenly asked, “Do you like to sing?

Felicity frowned. “What?”

“Singing is something mermaids love to do, right? That’s how they used to lure sailors to their deaths. Sirens they were called. Are you one of those or just a mermaid? Is there a difference?” he rushed out.

“No, not all mermaids like to sing. And if I was a bloodthirsty siren, I totally would’ve seduced you already and given you the kiss of death.” Felicity gave him a serious look, and Oliver’s breath got stuck in his throat. Slowly, the corner of Felicity’s mouth quirked up and she smiled in amusement. “I’m kidding, Oliver.”

It took a second for the joke to register, and he let out a sigh of relief. “Very funny,” Oliver grumbled.

“I can sing, but I’m not that great at it. Even if I was, the whole singing siren thing is a myth.” Felicity squeezed his hand. “You’re safe with me. I promise.”

Despite how unthinkable the entire situation was, Oliver found that he actually believed her. Felicity had gone out of her way to save him from drowning during the storm and given him food when he was hungry. If she’d harbored any ill will towards him, she would’ve carried through on it by now.

Oliver looked down and studied her intently. Having moved closer, he noticed that Felicity had a much smaller frame than him. If she could actually stand up with her tail, she’d probably be almost a foot shorter. Her eyes were definitely blue, though it was difficult to determine their exact shade in the night. Regardless of the darkness that surrounded them, Felicity’s smile was as warm and dazzling as the sun. It actually made Oliver wonder what she would look like in the light of day. There was still a prominent part of him that thought this moment was a figment of his imagination and he’d wake up tomorrow to find her gone.

“Can I see you again in the morning? Maybe we can have breakfast together,” Oliver suggested. “I’ll bring the squirrel and berries if you bring the fish.”

Felicity’s nose scrunched up in an adorable scowl. “Squirrel? Is that what you’ve been eating while I was gone?”

“Unfortunately.” Killing and cooking it had been disgusting enough, but the memory of the horrible taste still made him shudder.

“Gross! No more of that,” Felicity declared with a resolute shake of her head. “Although I would like some berries. But you have to be careful of the poisonous ones.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” he teased, chuckling under his breath when she playfully nudged him with her shoulder.

Grinning, they stared at each other in comfortable silence a little longer. Without even realizing what he was doing, Oliver’s thumb began to run along the top of her hand. Felicity, her cheeks almost matching her tail, was the first to look away.

“I should go,” she abruptly announced. “I need to get some rest if I’m going to journey back so early.”

“Is your, um,”—he struggled for the right word—“cave—er, home not nearby?”

“No, it’s not. Which is probably a good thing,” she added as an afterthought. She released his hand, and Oliver felt the loss instantly.

“Felicity, can I ask you one more question?”

“Was that it?” she teased him.

Who knew that mermaids could be snarky? “No,” Oliver chuckled. “When you were gone, I didn’t understand why you told me not to go in the water. Were you afraid I’d almost drown again? Was that the danger?”

Felicity hesitated before shaking her head. “No. It’s difficult to explain, but all I can say is that not every creature in these depths is as friendly as me.” She raised her hand to his cheek, her touch a gentle whisper against his skin. “You need to be careful, Oliver, especially when I’m not around.”

It was more than concern he saw in Felicity’s eyes. It was genuine fear. Once again, Oliver listened to his instincts and decided to trust her. He stayed in his spot on the beach as Felicity eased herself into the water. She dove under, producing a soft splash. When she was farther out, she gave him a small wave before disappearing beneath the surface.

Their meeting that night turned into the first of many. Almost every day in the months that followed, Felicity would come to visit Oliver. She would stay on the beach, and they would talk as he worked on his fire pits. Felicity was actually very intelligent and gave him some great advice on how to structure the pit and position the wood so it would burn most effectively. Her knowledge was surprising since mermaids didn’t have fire for obvious reasons. When he asked her about it, she simply shrugged and said that she was known amongst her people for making clever contraptions. Her answer still didn’t address the intent of Oliver’s question, but he didn’t push the subject.

Sometimes it was difficult to tear his eyes away from her and concentrate. Felicity often laid on her stomach in the sand with her magnificent tail poking out of the surf. Her golden locks would dry in the sun and cascade down her back in shining waves. When Felicity rested up on her elbows, it pushed her breasts together and made them spill over the tops of her shell coverings. Oliver, despite telling himself that he and Felicity were just friends (not to mention different species), felt a different kind of hunger flare within him then. Felicity, the innocent creature that she was, didn’t seem to notice the heat that was slowly starting to consume him.

One day, Oliver had taken the opportunity to ask Felicity if many ships passed by the area, and she’d told him no. He supposed it made sense, since mermaids like Felicity preferred isolated areas. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, because spending time with her really was the best part of his day, Oliver tried not to show his disappointment. When he asked if she ever left the area on her own and ventured out into the ocean, she told him that she couldn’t. It was yet another restriction. Regardless of her nonchalant tone, Oliver saw the anguish swimming in her pretty blue eyes. It seemed she was stranded just like him.

The blond beauty also had many questions of her own. Felicity wanted to know anything and everything about Oliver’s life back home. He told her about growing up in Starling City with his family and the pressure of living in the shadow of the Queen legacy. Oliver considered glossing over some of his wilder misadventures and brushes with the law but found that he didn’t want to lie to Felicity. They were friends, and she deserved better than that. She simply listened in rapt silence, taking it all in without judgment.

At first, Oliver had been wary to talk about his life. Seeing as though his chances of ever returning home were very slim, he thought it would do more harm than good to reflect on it. It turned out the opposite was true. Remembering the life still waiting for him back home, Oliver felt an even stronger need to survive and return to his mother and Thea. They must’ve been devastated when they found out about the Gambit, and Oliver wanted nothing more than to take their pain away.

Felicity, conversely, was much more guarded about certain aspects of her life. He’d learned that she was eighteen, four years younger than him, and lived in a small mer- village. She had a mother who she was close to but never actually knew her father. When Oliver had asked if she’d ever stayed on land for an extended period of time—because how else would she or her people know so much about humans?—she’d dodged the question. Topics that weren’t so loaded, like the time she’d set a fish trap to get back at a bully who’d made fun of her friend, she tended to babble on and on about.

The day their friendship had turned into something more, the pair had been in the cove. The weather had gotten significantly warmer, and Felicity was trying to teach Oliver the patience and agility of spear fishing. They’d never spoken of the danger she feared, but Oliver got the feeling she wanted him to be able to fend for himself if she needed to disappear again. Despite his unease with the ocean, Oliver felt perfectly safe with Felicity. It also didn’t hurt that she looked sexy as hell with her hair plastered to her body and water droplets clinging to her creamy skin.

After finally making his catches, Oliver had asked if she could take him outside of the cove. So much of their time was spent on land and, for once, Oliver wanted to see Felicity completely immersed in her own element. With a beaming smile, she’d agreed and taken his hand. Felicity guided him into slightly deeper water. Although she could probably swim at least five times faster than him, she slowed her pace to match his. When she told him to hold his breath, Oliver did as instructed and let her tug him under the surface.

To say that Oliver was mesmerized watching her was an understatement. Felicity looked like a floating angel as she glided through the water. The way her entire body undulated with each movement made it easy to see how she was so fit. She gave Oliver a tour of the ocean floor without taking him down too far. He couldn’t hold his breath for that long and the pressure would’ve been too much for him. Taking in all of the intricate rock formations, colored corals, and various species of fish, Oliver had to admit that it looked like a completely different world. Felicity was grinning from ear to ear watching him, and Oliver knew he wore a similar expression.

Eventually, they returned to the cove and sat on the rocks to watch the sunset. The sky was a mixed palette of yellow, orange, pink, and purple. As breathtaking as it was, Oliver found his gaze wandering to Felicity. She’d closed her eyes and was letting the last remnants of the sun’s rays warm her skin. They were so close that he actually noticed the small smattering of freckles on her nose.

As if sensing the intensity of his stare, Felicity opened her eyes and turned towards him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered, her voice quavering ever so slightly.

“Because you’re beautiful, Felicity.”

“I am?”

Her uncertainty gutted him, and Oliver lifted his hand to her face. He stroked her cheek and her breath hitched, but Felicity didn’t pull away. “Yes.”

“Even my…” she trailed off and nodded down to her tail.

“All of you,” Oliver replied and slid his hand along Felicity’s neck and shoulder. With his other hand, he let his fingers graze the curve of her waist. Felicity shivered and leaned into his touch. He stopped just above her tail. “Can I touch you?” It had been something Oliver wanted to do for a while now, but he didn’t want to offend her or make her uncomfortable before.

Felicity swallowed hard and nodded, tugging her lip between her teeth. When Oliver finally placed his hand on the upper thigh of her tail, she moaned softly but deeply in her throat. Her response ignited the fire in his veins further, and he splayed his hand on her fully. Felicity’s scales were smooth and slick against Oliver’s palm, making it easy to stroke her.

A moment later, she let out a shaky breath and tentatively placed her hands on his chest. Oliver grumbled lowly at the contact and the way Felicity started to run her fingers along his torso. She traced every line of muscle and paid special attention to the scars he’d acquired from his first months on the island lumbering carelessly through the woods. Their foreheads touched as they explored each other, their mingling exhales turning into low pants.

Felicity wrapped her arms around Oliver’s shoulders as he gripped her tail to bring her flush against him. When the exposed parts of her torso hit his bare flesh, Oliver nearly lost it. His muscles rippled at the contact, and their noses brushed together.

“Felicity,” Oliver murmured huskily. It felt like electricity was shooting through his body when she started running her fingers through his hair. He did the same to her, loving the way the thick, wavy strands filled his entire hand.

“Oliver,” Felicity breathily replied, “kiss me.”

It was all the encouragement Oliver needed before he swooped in to claim her lips. Felicity gasped against his mouth, and he swallowed her moans. Tilting her head to the side, Felicity opened her mouth and allowed him to deepen the kiss. His tongue flicked against her bottom lip, tasting the salt from the ocean. When Oliver delved inside, stroking and teasing her tongue, he groaned at discovering the sweet taste that was all her. It didn’t take long for the pair to lose themselves in each other.

The unbridled need and passion were sensations Oliver had never felt before. No matter how tightly Oliver clutched Felicity, she still wasn’t close enough. He devoured her lips as she clawed at his back. Her nails penetrating his skin sent a jolt of heat straight to his groin. Eventually, Oliver pulled her entirely onto his lap and buried his face in her neck. He licked the tangy salt off of her skin before sucking on her pulse point. Felicity threw her head back and muttered his name, encouraging him to continue.

After kissing every exposed inch of her flesh, Oliver felt Felicity tug on his hair to bring his lips back to hers. This time, he slowed the kiss down and focused on making her feel special. Oliver held Felicity’s face gently in his hands and tenderly nipped at her lips. She sighed into his mouth and returned every affectionate swipe. Only when they were both desperate for air did they finally break the kiss. Neither one made a move to pull away fully and continued to cling to the other.

“Wow,” Felicity muttered.

Oliver rested his forehead against hers, staring into her bright blue eyes. “Yeah.”

“That was, um,’’—she bit her lip, and Oliver had to resist taking hold of it himself again—“my first kiss,” she coyly admitted.

Oliver had suspected as much. Felicity was a great kisser, but she was young and he’d sensed her timidity at times. She’d mostly let him guide her—not that he minded. Oliver loved that she put that trust in him.

He kissed the tip of Felicity’s nose, making her smile. “Believe me, it won’t be the last…”

(To be continued...Part 2)

#OlicityFanfics #At the Edge of the Ocean #olicity #olicity AU #ficlet #part 1 #oliver queen #mermaid felicity #mermaids #olicity fanfiction

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