#what do you ache for? i ache for wonder

[korra-the-red-lion]

Alone

A fic for @captainmarvel17! I hope you like it!

“Hey Sara.”

Her eyes opened when she heard her name called. Sara was not the kind of person to let anyone sneak up on her. Annoyed mostly with herself, she turned to locate the voice speaking. To her surprise and great sadness, it was Laurel.

“Whoa, wait, what’s going on?” Sara sat up quickly, looking around the weird place. It was grey and dark, and she was having a hard time making out the background details.

Laurel put her hand on Sara’s shoulder. “It’s okay, you’re alive. Oliver and I noticed that you went through another trauma, so I thought I’d come check up on you.”

Sara nodded slowly, though she was still confused. The last thing she remembered was trying to get away from the people who had kidnapped her. The team arrived, there had been a fight. Sara closed her eyes, trying to jog her memory for anything else, but nothing was coming to mind. Laurel was watching her, her face just as Sara remembered it.

“I’ve missed you,” said Sara quietly, “so much. After Ollie died, I felt so alone. You were gone, dad had died, then Ollie. I know he brought dad back, and I know why he didn’t bring you back…but I felt lost without you both here. You two understand everything I’ve gone through, what I had to do to survive…”

Laurel nodded, tears in her eyes. “I know, Sara. I’m sorry. So, so sorry. If there was a safe way for me to come back, I would in a heartbeat. But it’s okay, you know? I’m happy with Oliver and Felicity.”

“I thought about it a lot. Bringing you back with the Loom of Fate,” Sara said with pain and anger in her voice, “but I didn’t. Because it wasn’t the right thing to do. It could have happened easily, the Loom didn’t alter history. It’s so frustrating sometimes, feeling this way.”

“Sara, you’re not alone,” said Laurel, squeezing Sara’s hand so tightly she felt the circulation being cut off. “You have the Legends supporting you every step of the way. Annnd last time I checked, you had a really amazing girlfriend.”

Sara chuckled sadly. “I wish you could meet Ava. I think you’d like her. She was boring, just like you were for awhile.”

“Hey!” Laurel playfully slapped her arm. “I was always fun. You just were too drunk and high to notice it when you were younger.”

“I had to be!” Sara shoved back. “Between you, mom, and dad, how else was a girl gonna get her fun in? Anyway, that doesn’t matter. I’m a mature adult now if you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh? Are you know? They must have changed the guidelines after I died.” Laurel sat back, her face getting a little blurry. “She’s waiting for you, Sara. Ava is hoping you’ll wake up soon. She’s really good for you. Let’s you have fun, but not get crazy. Though,” she mused, “Nyssa told me that she was horrible and that you could do so much better. I wonder who she had in mind?” She smiled her beautiful smile that took over her whole face and lit it up. Sara’s heart ached deeply when she saw it.

“I guess it’s time for me to wake up,” said Sara, noticing that the world was getting lighter. “I love you, Laurel.”

“I love you too, Sara,” said Laurel, her voice getting faded. “You better behave yourself, or I’ll haunt your wedding!”

Who said anything about getting married? Sara tried to say, but then the light got blinding and she had to close her eyes.

Ava was squeezing her girlfriend’s hand tightly. She was more worried about Sara waking up then cutting off circulation. Sara’s eyes were moving underneath her lids, and she started laughing at one point. Ava was wondering if she had brain damage from her time in captivity. They should have been there quicker. No, they never should have let her get captured. This was all her fault, how could she let this happen? Sara was never going to wake up and everyone was going to hate her forever and they were-

“Hey, Ava.”

Ava lifted her head in relief. “Oh my god! You’re alive! Gideon, is she okay?”

“Yes, Miss Sharpe. Aside from a minor circulatory issue in her left hand, Captain Lance is just fine. May I suggest you let go now?”

“Oh shoot!” Ava loosened her grip, but she refused to let go. “Sara, I’m so sorry! It’s my fault that you got captured. I shouldn’t have let you out of my sights. Welllll, that is never happening again, no way in hell!”

“Babe, please calm down. It wasn’t your fault.” Sara sat up and faced Ava. She pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay. Thank you for watching over me. I love you.”

Ava hugged her back. They stayed like this for a few minutes, before Ava noticed that Sara was shaking ever so slightly. She rubbed her back and asked, “Sara, hey…are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” said Sara, her voice steady despite her shaking, “I just wish you had met Laurel. You and her would have gotten along so well. I miss her everyday, but you helped heal that pain I was going through.”

“No, Sara,” said Ava, pulling away so she could look into the crystal blue eyes. “You helped yourself. I just helped you stay on the path, that’s all. Your inner strength is your superpower. I’ve become a better person jut by knowing you. I’m the luckiest person in the whole timeline by knowing you.”

Sara smiled brightly. “You flirt.” She kissed Ava deeply, pulling her onto the med chair. Ava kissed her back, her emotions threatening to burst through her chest. She loved Sara more than anything in the world. Sara pulled away, putting her forehead against Ava’s.

“I thought I was alone,” she said softly. “After Ollie died… it was hard. He seemed so indestructible. Even if Laurel was gone, I still had him. I think in some way, a part of me did die when he did.”

Ava listened. While she wasn’t the best at expressing herself, she did know how much Crisis hurt Sara. It wrecked her on an emotional level that all the Paragons chose to ignore. She nodded, encouraging Sara to continue.

“I thought in a way, I was alone. But, someone just told me I wasn’t. It seemed so obvious when she said it, but for whatever reason, I just couldn’t see it for myself. I see it now. I have you, Ava. I have the other Legends. Maybe you guys don’t understand everything I’ve been through, but you do understand me. And you’ll stay at my side no matter what. I will always love that about you. Thank you, Ava. Thank you for not leaving me behind.” Sara kissed her again, slowly and softly. “Will you be mine, forever?”

It took a moment for Ava to understand what she was asking. Then it hit her, like a thousand bricks at once. “Oh my- did you just? I- YES!”

Together, they fell to the floor laughing and crying. The other Legends came in and saw the scene, and when Ava told them, they all cheered. Sara smiled at her family, the ones who have been with her through thick and thin. She may feel it sometimes, but she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

[dust2dust34]

The Right Tools (Olicity, S7)

Summary: Set during the Happy Months (as I’m calling them). Some fluffy silliness - Oliver and Felicity move her desk into her new office at the cabin. (Prompted by Meg)

(read on AO3)

*

“Let me do it.”

“No, I’ve got it.”

And she did, damn it. She wasn’t going to let this thing win. Not now, not after days of looking for the perfect desk, of waiting for it to be delivered, of spending the last few hours putting it together. She was going to do this. It just… it wasn’t supposed to be this frakking heavy.

Felicity hissed as the edge of the desk bit into her fingers, but she didn’t let go.

Never give up, never surrender.

She curled her fingers, tightened her grip, and shuffled back into the little room that was going to be her office.

Their new cabin wasn’t huge, not that they needed huge. It was more than enough for her and Oliver, with space to expand. They were going to make one of the rooms a nursery for Mia. Oliver already had plans to convert part of the garage into a training space. And then there was the space in the attic that could be converted into a large bedroom.

That would be for William.

Someday.

A familiar pang radiated through her chest. He still wasn’t taking their calls, and every contact she and Oliver tried to make with his grandparents seemed to fall on deaf ears. But they weren’t giving up. Even if it took months, they were going to find a way to bring their son home. Or at the very least remind him that no matter what he had a place with them, and he always would.

The momentum on the desk carrying stopped.

“Oliver, come on,” she urged.

“Felicity.”

“What?” She looked at him where he held the other side of the desk. “Come on.”

“Put it down.”

“No.”

“I can do it myself, you don’t have to-”

“I’ve got it.”

“Felicity.”

“Oh my god, Oliver,” she snapped, finally dropping the desk. It landed on the floor with a heavy thud and she widened her eyes at him incredulously. “What?”

He gently set his end down and… and then he just paused at her outburst. She gritted her teeth, narrowing her eyes, waiting. But instead of speaking, he snapped his mouth shut and pressed his lips together in silent acquiesce.

Felicity rolled her eyes so hard they nearly popped right out of her head.

He’d made the mistake once of commenting about pregnancy hormones and she’d almost slapped him silly. Hormones. No, it wasn’t just hormones, damn it. He was being annoying and over-protective and she was sick of it. Her stomach might be getting to the ‘oh hey wow you’re definitely pregnant there, hey, can I touch your stomach’ - that’d been sweet the first time and the first time only - but that didn’t mean she couldn’t lift this stupid desk and get it into her stupid office.

Oliver blinked.

Felicity groaned. “I said that all out loud, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” he replied quietly. Too quietly. He put his hands up in supplication and she huffed. Loudly. “You can’t blame me for wanting to make sure nothing happens.”

“It’s a desk.”

“It’s a heavy desk,” Oliver corrected, already moving to shuffle into the small space left between said piece of furniture and the doorjamb. She rolled her eyes again and threw her hands up in the air as he barely made it through. When he reached her, he gently tried to nudge her out of the way, but she batted at his hands. He sighed. “Felicity-”

“This is so dumb-”

“It’s too heavy-”

“You are being such a di-”

“Is it so wrong that I want you to take it-”

“Don’t you dare-”

“Felicity,” he breathed, dragging her name out in exasperation. “Move.”

They stared at each other, Felicity fuming, Oliver steadfast. Neither backed down, not until Felicity finally snapped. “Fine! Fine, you stupid, stubborn man! Do your man thing. Be the man, lift the thing up with all your manness that your pregnant wife just cannot help you with-”

She was pretty sure he tried not to roll his eyes, but he didn’t succeed as he muttered, “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” she said as he lifted her side of the desk.

She was ready to go on a tirade, a huge, vicious, amazing tirade about… about his stupidity and… and other things, but… But then he started moving the desk and… and oh.

A flush worked its way up her chest and neck, flooding her cheeks with warmth as she watched him work. It didn’t take a lot to remind her how gorgeous her husband was. Especially when he did things like this. Felicity swallowed hard. She was positive he was using his attractiveness against her. When she’d accused him of such during a recent argument, he’d told her she was being ridiculous, which she was absolutely not. He was probably doing it right now. Using his hotness as a sexy argument-winning weapon. And she should be mad about that. But also… he was doing sort of fine. He still huffed and puffed - that desk was heavy, and she wanted to throw a good ol’ “A-ha!” at him - but there was muscle. Lots and lots of bulging muscle, all bunched up under his newly-tanned skin and…

Wow, she loved white t-shirts, had she mentioned that before?

He snorted.

Felicity wondered if she was thinking out loud again. Not that it mattered, because he looked really good in white t-shirts, especially when he had to lift heavy furniture.

Or rather, drag it.

“Don’t scratch the floor,” she told him.

“I’m not,” he retorted with a little more bite than she was used to. Okay, maybe it was warranted considering he was covered in sweat and his face was red with exertion.

The muscles on this man.

She pulled herself out of her reverie. Seriously, self, be less of a cliché.

“You will scratch the floor if you don’t lift it, like… Yes, like that, good job.”

He rolled his eyes, but his sense of self-preservation kept him from saying anything.

Felicity watched him slowly scoot it into the corner where they’d decided it would go.

It was going okay. More than okay, actually, not that she would tell him that, but she did feel some of her aggravation bleed away as she watched him shove the desk into place…

And not move his hand fast enough.

Oliver smashed his fingers between the hard edge and the wall.

“Oh, fu…!” he growled, immediately yanking the desk back just enough to rip his hand out of the spot. His skin was already bright red and she could see the groove where the desk had crashed into his digits. “Son of a…”

“I told you!” was the first thing out of her mouth.

Oliver threw her a disbelieving look. “Really?”

“Well, I did,” she replied as he shoved two of his fingers into his mouth to assuage the ache. His face morphed into a mask of pain that had her melting before she knew it was even happening. “Oh okay, come here,” Felicity said, moving towards him. He made a face at her, his lips still wrapped around his fingers before turning away. “Oliver.”

“No, you’re being mean,” he said, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

“I am not,” Felicity replied, grabbing his shoulder and turning him back around to face her. He didn’t fight her and when he was facing her again, he let his hand fall from his mouth, leaving an incredibly pathetic attempt at a sad face in its place. She raised an eyebrow. “Now who’s being mean?”

Oliver scrunched up his nose at her.

“Lemme see,” Felicity said, holding her hand out for his. He plopped it in hers and she examined the damage. The skin was still damp from his mouth, and it was still incredibly sensitive from the hit considering how he whimpered, “Ow,” when she ran the tip of her finger over the spot. “You know, for a guy who’s been shot, and stabbed, and arrowed, and tortured, and… and all sorts of horrible things-”

“I can say with confidence that getting stabbed didn’t hurt nearly this bad,” Oliver interrupted.

“Okay, Mr. Tough Guy,” Felicity murmured, bringing his hand up to her lips. She kissed his fingers, over and over, making sure to cover every bit of him that she could. His breath hitched and she smiled against his skin. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m here to make it all better.”

Oliver hummed his agreement.

Felicity looked up at him from under her eyelashes to find his eyes had darkened. He slowly licked his lower lip and the sight had another flush racing over her. This one was hotter, leaving her panting slightly, especially when it also spiraled inward. Heat tugged at the pit of her stomach and her thighs clenched as Oliver slowly curled his fingers around hers.

“Much better,” he whispered.

“Good.”

“I think I know how to get the desk back against the wall,” Oliver said, his voice low, throaty. It only had more heat cascading through her. “One that doesn’t include smashing any fingers, or toes, or…” He took his hand back and dragged it down her front, the edges of his fingers ghosting over her beading nipples. “Other very, very sensitive parts.”

She managed to give him a little, “Oh?” through a choked whimper.

“Yep,” he replied before grasping her waist and lifting her up on the desk. Felicity let out a little delighted yelp as Oliver pushed himself between her thighs. Her stomach was definitely getting bigger, but it wasn’t in the way yet. Especially when he hooked his hands in her knees and lifted her legs up to spread her wide so he could press his growing hardness right against her core. She grabbed his shoulders to hold on as he arched his hips closer with a rasped, “We’ll just scoot it right back in there.”

Felicity chuckled, a husky sound that had his eyes dropping to her lips.

“That is a very, very… very good use of the tools we have at hand,” she agreed.

“Right?”

“Mmhmm,” she managed before she pulled his face down to hers.

The second her lips slanted over his, they were done for.

(And it did work. Sort of. Well, okay, not really, because Oliver had to reposition it completely when they were done.)

The End

 *

Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!

[laurabelle2930]

At Last ~An Olicity fic inspired by @mel-loves-all

Okay... So I had some truly kind people ask for more! Since I do love to make people happy I have told the story from Felicity’s POV! This time around we learn more about Felicity and we get to see how Oliver responds when he learns the truth of her actions! (Warning... He responds very well...)

Mel’s amazing idea:  Oliver Queen, owner of the Jazz club, Verdant, fills in one night for one of his sick bartenders. One evening shift turns into several when his interest is piqued by a woman, sexy and confident, who enjoys all things pink including her hair. She sits alone at his bar, gently swaying to the live music, and turns down every come on line and advance made, male and female. She doesn’t say anything to him other than her drink order but he can feel her eyes on him. Her gaze lingers just long enough for it to feel like a caress. A caress Oliver has become addicted to. Does he have a chance with her or will he crash and burn? There was only one way to find out.

As always thank you to @mel-loves-all for her moodboard which you can view by clicking the link above. She’s an inspiration and truly a wonderful friend. 

If you’d like to catch up on Chapter one you can do so here...

Without further ado...Here’s chapter two. 

Read it here or on AO3

At Last ~ Felicity’s POV

Two Months…

 That's how long it had taken for Felicity Smoak to fall completely and, utterly in love with Oliver Queen. It felt both rushed and, too long all at the same time. Felicity wasn't sure how the night was going to end but, she was certain that she regretted nothing that had happened in the last two months.

 The rain from the previous storm stuck to her skin like a badge of honor as Oliver walked her home. Felicity could feel the webbing of his fingers along her own as they strolled through the damp streets hand in hand. Her leather pants rubbed uncomfortably along her chilled skin. Her feet ached but, the only emotion that held any weight was the feeling of complete happiness.

 The wind began to blow through the trees as they neared her white painted front door. Oliver's thumb grazed her knuckles as their shoulders brushed. “I don't want to let you go…” Oliver lamented quietly as Felicity's steps began to slow.

 “You wouldn't have to if I invited you in,” Felicity offered as her front steps came into view.

 Oliver stopped. Felicity leaned her forehead along his sturdy shoulder. She could feel the gears within his beguiled mind turning with endless questions. Felicity squeezed at their still joined hands. She then kissed his shoulder as she whispered, “I want you to come in…”

 “But you barely know me,” he breathed as his cheek fell to the crown of her head.

 Felicity's body shook with laughter as her own tale of discovery began to unfold before her very eyes…

 Two Months Ago…

Felicity Meghan Smoak was born in Las Vegas, Nevada. Her father was a school teacher who died in a car accident when she was still young. Her mother Donna was kind, caring and loved her daughter more than her own life. However, love didn't pay the bills so to make ends meet her mother worked morning, noon and night. She held various jobs throughout the Las Vegas strip that ranged from blackjack dealer all the way to being a very strict pit boss.

 As Donna worked to make a better life for her daughter, Felicity began to read. She would study the works of Plato, Aristotle and, Socrates. She would memorize mathematical equations and quiz herself in the dead languages. Felicity wanted a life full of possibilities; she also wanted out of Nevada. On her eighteenth birthday Donna gave her the surprise of her lifetime. Donna through her endless jobs had managed to put away almost $100,000 so her brilliant daughter might be able to afford college.  

Felicity with her mother's birthday present and her various scholarship offers decided to become a doctor. She was accepted to Harvard and then after she graduated with honors she was accepted into Harvard medical school by the time she was 21.

 What brought her to Starling City was the new pediatric wing at Starling General. They had the newest equipment, the brightest minds, and it offered Felicity the chance to grow within her chosen field. The move had been difficult. She couldn't decide if she wanted to rent or buy. She knew no one and the position of first year resident meant she had no time for a social life. However, after one particularly hard shift Felicity decided to blow off some steam and check out the club that had the entire hospital buzzing. The name of that club was Verdant.

 The first time she walked through those heavy, dark oak doors she was struck with the sense of home. Whether it was the stained glass in the front doors or the dark hues of the paint she didn't know but, she felt instantly at ease until she saw his beautiful face as he smiled at another beautiful face. Felicity could still remember how she ducked behind a velvet like dark, green curtain. She was still in her dark blue scrubs. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. She had no makeup on and, frankly looked exhausted after being on her feet for twelve hours. From there she watched him… He had on a standard black tee shirt with Verdant spelled out on the right corner in dark green lettering. His blue eyes seemed to glitter like the ocean after a heavy rain. From where she was standing Felicity could see how his sharp jaw was made softer by a scruffy beard made of three-day old stubble. He appeared to be in his late twenties or maybe his early thirties. What made Felicity’s stomach flip flop like a butterfly was his very toned physique. Even underneath the club’s dim lighting Felicity could still see the thick corded muscles of his sculpted arms as he waved to someone off to the other side of the club. His shirt highlighted even more of his physique when it clung to the perfectly toned muscles of his stomach. Felicity wasn’t a woman who swooned over a handsome man but, in that moment, she had to admit the beautiful man before her left her feeling just a bit weak in the knees.

 Felicity was about to dart towards the stairs to put an end to her awkward staring when she felt a small hand fall gently upon her shoulder. Felicity gasped as she pivoted around. The face before her was kind. Her features were delicate, and her name tag read Sara. Felicity gulped out a weak sounding, “I was just looking for the stairs.”

 The woman before her chuckled as she rubbed Felicity's shoulder gently. “You aren't the first woman I've found staring at Oliver nor will you be the last I dare say.”

 Felicity blushed, “So tall, chiseled and God like has a name, does he?”

 Sara's head fell forward in amusement, “You're funny. I like funny. So, the question is do you have a name?”

 Felicity extended her hand quickly mumbling out a quick, “Felicity and, you're Sara?” she asked as her eyes darted to Sara's name tag.

 The dark blonde smiled broadly, “Come with me Felicity. I think we actually might become very good friends.”

 Felicity still laughed at the memory because they did. After that night she not only had a fast friend in Sara, but she also had a place to unwind. It was her friendship with Sara that created the opportunity for yet another life altering change.

 The hospital was busier than usual. They had patients coming at them from all directions. Some were part of the new clinical trial that Felicity had been handpicked to run. Felicity had been rushing to see her next patient when she saw Sara standing at the end of the reception desk on the floor she was currently working on. Felicity ducked into her patient’s room to find them visiting with family members. They asked for a few more minutes so Felicity proceeded toward her black loving best friend. Sara's jaw nearly fell to the floor when she saw Felicity's new hair.

 “Oh my God your hair is pink!”

 Felicity blushed, “Yes it was a dare from a rather cheeky ten-year-old in my clinical trial.”

 Sara's laughter was beginning to attract attention, so Felicity pulled her into an empty room. Once the door was shut Felicity let out an exhausted, “Okay let’s have it…”

 Sara just shrugged innocently while her laughter filled the room, “What I’m not judging. I just think it’s an interesting look for a doctor that’s all.”

 Felicity scowled as she crossed her arms across her chest, “Yeah my attending wasn’t thrilled as you can imagine.”

 “Yet you’re still sporting the new do?” Sara asked cautiously

 Felicity’s forehead crinkled at the memory of that rather colorful conversation. “Let’s just say the ten-year-old has parent’s in high places.”

 “Well honestly how it happened is hilarious but, it kind of works,” Sara admitted once her laughter became small giggles of hidden amusement.

 Felicity nodded absently, “Yeah and you're here why?”

 Sara cleared her throat and, grinned madly with unsuppressed excitement. “Your hair just gave me the best idea!” She squealed again about fine octaves too loud.

 “Sara no…” Felicity immediately groaned. “I'm not going through with another one of your plans, so I can get a certain God to notice I'm alive.”

 “Yeah you are,” Sara laughed.

 “And why are you so confident all the sudden?”

 “Because,” Sara mused. “If you colored your hair on a dare, imagine what you'll do if I dare you to follow your damn heart and at least say hello to Oliver!”

 Felicity groaned when she realized she never could back down from a challenge. “I take it you have a plan?”

 Sara nodded eagerly, “Oh do I ever.”

 Felicity realized as she was strolling down the street in her favorite black, stiletto heels that she never did get the real reason for Sara's visit. Frankly after Sara caught a glimpse of Felicity's pink hair everything became centered on getting her a date with Oliver Queen.

 The plan was simple. Tonight, was one of Verdant’s busier nights. “The Lyla Michaels Experience” was playing so that meant the downstairs bar would be packed. Sara told Clive she'd get him a date with her old college roommate if he agreed to call in sick. He jumped at the opportunity and called in ten minutes later. Sara knew Oliver would call Tommy to cover. Sara threatened Tommy with having to watch “The Notebook” if he didn't go along with her plan.

 Tommy thankfully thought Sara's idea was inspired since he too felt that Oliver and Felicity would be perfect together. Once Sara had the two men in play she proceeded to explain her plan to Felicity. Sara’s idea was too in short tease Oliver by having Felicity walk in with her new “attitude” and do nothing more than ask for a drink before she walked away. Sara felt that with the pink hair, the right clothes and the right attitude that the “new” Felicity would leave Oliver reeling. Felicity was a bit unsure but, played along. She dug out her black leather pants and even managed to find her pink, leather halter top that Donna bought her as a gag gift on her 21st birthday.

 Sara helped style her hair, Felicity picked out her favorite lipstick and they both had fun with all the various necklaces that she never had the opportunity to wear. Felicity had to admit when she looked at herself in the mirror she couldn't quite believe it was her. She looked strong, confident and, even radiant.

 Bringing herself back into the moment Felicity glanced at her watch. Sara said he'd be loaded down with tickets around 6:15. It was now 6:10. “Okay…” Felicity muttered, “Remember be confident, be cool and, don't engage him let him engage you.”

 The club was slammed as usual. She saw Lyla was already crooning away with John supporting her amazing voice with his equally amazing piano skills. Oliver's chiseled jaw was clenched as Felicity approached the bar. He looked stressed and, even a bit out of his natural element. Something about the way his eyes kept shifting down made her feel a twinge of remorse. She was the reason he looked unhappy and, for some reason that left her feeling uneasy about Sara's plan.

 She checked her phone. Sara had already sent her about five supportive messages and one threat since she'd be working upstairs in the lounge. “Oh, you better be worth it,” Felicity breathed as she pushed herself between a pair of men who were just standing near the bar. She counted to three and much to her surprise she managed to say….

 “So, what's better a vodka cranberry or a Cosmo?”

 Her heart thumped along like shark as it moves swiftly through the water. His blue eyes looked stunned as he very deliberately drank in her appearance. Felicity felt wanted, desired, lusted after and, even appreciated as they stood there in a comfortable silence. Felicity took the chance to memorize how his eyes sparkled with flecks of green embedded within the endless blue of his irises. His fingers flexed along the edge of the bar as his full lips remained frozen in unspoken words.

 Remembering that she had a part to play Felicity pushed her head back in the game. “Well since you've gone silent I'll take the Cosmo,” Felicity breathed as she reached into her purse for the payment.

 She'd hoped that her voice might jar him back to reality, but nothing worked. She calmly slid the money forward before she walked away. As Felicity moved to the end of the bar her skin began to prickle until she swore her skin was covered in flames. She took a vacated seat that allowed her to keep her back towards his location within the bar. The seat also made it easy to sneak a peek when Oliver was otherwise occupied.

 As the night wore on something interesting began to occur. While Felicity agreed she looked amazing she wasn’t quite prepared for the people who seemed to agree. The first man who approached her was in his early thirties. His mustache was thick, his build was slender, and his hair hid the beginning of a bald spot near the crown of his head. Felicity smiled politely when he said hello, and before he could even utter another word she simply used her head to gesture towards Oliver’s position behind the bar. “You’re with him?” he remarked almost shyly. Felicity just nodded sweetly and sent him on his way. She continued to use that approach with each person male or female who walked by. Felicity had to admit that the attention was flattering but the pickup lines were awful.

 It had been nearly two hours. The band was playing their final song, the crowd was beginning to disperse and the only progress that had been made were a few stolen glances that seemed to set Felicity’s skin ablaze. She threw another glance over her shoulder. Usually whenever she dared to openly stare in his general direction he was busy make a drink or he was averting his own longing gaze. However, this time he was doing neither. Felicity shifted along the stool as the scene before her began to unfold. The gentleman had to be over seventy. He wore a pale gray suit, with a bold red tie. Oliver was leaning along the bar with a pad of paper and, a pen. The conversation between them seemed hushed, almost intimate so Felicity kept watching as the man put down a five and began to shuffle towards the doors. Felicity spotted Laurel, so she waved her down. Laurel came towards her with a genuine smile and, a bright, “So has my sister’s plan worked yet?”

 Felicity just rolled her eyes, “I’ll tell you later but, first can you tell me what Oliver and the older gentleman were talking about?”

 Laurel scanned the room before she came back with a quick, “Oh yeah that’s Louis. He’s a regular who lost his wife about six months ago.”

 Felicity silently pushed for more, so Laurel continued. “He comes in every Saturday and, has a drink in her honor. Recently he’s had a hard time getting around, so Oliver helps him out by running errands for him.”

 “That's what the list was for?” Felicity coughed as her heart began to ache with a feeling that wasn't within the crush zone.

 “That it is,” Laurel replied.

 Felicity now couldn't help herself she had to know. “And the five-dollar bill?”

 “Oliver takes the money and donates it to the pediatric wing of Starling General. Louis has a ten-year-old grandson there whose apart of some clinical trial. He waits until he has about a hundred bucks and writes out an anonymous check,” Laurel explained as Felicity continued to stare.

 Something like an epiphany rushed through her heart. “He would have noticed me if I'd been myself, wouldn't he?” Felicity asked more to herself than to Laurel.

 Laurel just gave her a knowing nod as she gave her one last bit of advice, “Oliver's got a good heart so let him see yours.”

 Felicity gulped out a small, “Yup,” before she let her blue eyes settle on someone that now captivated her in every way possible. She'd agreed to this plan because she had a crush and, now she had her own plan. Now she wanted more than just a single date. Now Felicity wanted a relationship.

 Current day….

 Felicity was nervous. As she'd agreed when they were still outside if he came in she'd explain why he wasn't a stranger to her. Oliver had been skeptical but, knowing Oliver as she did gave Felicity an unexpected edge. After a few more kisses to his shoulder Oliver relented and followed Felicity inside.

 Felicity lived in a two-story townhouse that was about a five-minute walk from Verdant. The outside was brick with white trim. The inside was simple and sparse since she was hardly ever home. Her kitchen looked brand new with unused appliances. Her sofa was where they'd landed. She brought him a glass of wine before he instead opted for water. Felicity however she had opted for the Pino Grigio. After drinking her glass and then Oliver's she continued to weave her tale.

 Now as her story ended she wondered if he still wanted the water. “Oliver?” Felicity nudged with a sense of verbal energy.

 “Yeah?” came Oliver's rather calm reply.

 Felicity had her legs flung over his thighs. She had her head against a white pillow and her arms were protectively positioned across her chest. “You're not saying anything…” she whispered as he slowly began to strum his fingers along fabric of her leather pants.

 His forehead crinkled as he absorbed her words. Felicity felt a rush of panic flooding through her shaking core as Oliver's lips began to curve.

 “You were the blonde…” he mumbled as the air around them began to shift.

 Felicity leaned forward, “Ummm whatcha getting at?” came her bemused reply.

 Oliver's sparking blue eyes fell to his fingers as they stilled along her legs. “Two years ago, you were the girl who was hiding behind the curtain”. Felicity wanted to die. “You were the girl that made me smile,” he chuckled as Felicity's heart began to race.

 Felicity leaned forward as Oliver reached out to grab her waist. She let him pull her forward until she was seated on his lap. Oliver than nuzzled his nose along the column of her throat. “I thought you were smiling at the girl that was seated in front of you,” she admitted as she brought her hands together around the nape of his neck.

 Oliver's soft, “No I was smiling because some beautiful woman was hiding behind a curtain,” made Felicity's heart soar.

 “So, you're not mad about how met?” Felicity breathed as Oliver placed a kiss along her collarbone.

 He then sighed as he moved his lips up to her cheek. Felicity shifted in his arms until their foreheads could touch. His lips lingered over her own as he whispered, “I'm mad that you didn't think I'd notice the girl in the scrubs but…” Felicity's heart melted with that but. “No, I'm not mad that Sara's plan worked.”

 Felicity rubbed her fingers along the small hairs at the back of his neck. She felt his skin dissolve into goosebumps beneath her touch. “I'm sorry that I didn't think you would think I was beautiful,” she offered as she gently kissed his bottom lip. “However, I'm not sorry for your two months of torture…”

 Oliver bit at her lower lip with his teeth while he said, “Secretly neither am I…”

 Felicity slipped her tongue along his upper lip as she replied, “And why's that?”

 Oliver's palms were beginning to rub along the leather of her top. Felicity's skin ached to be rid of the garment but, she wasn't ready for that level of intimacy tonight. Instead she rubbed her nose along the bridge of his. Oliver's fingers lingered over the laces of the top. His lips curved into a smile as he whispered against her mouth, “Because it made you see just how damn beautiful you really are.”

 Felicity felt her body molding into his chest as his once teasing kiss turned into something out of a romance novel. Felicity's fingers raked along his scalp as he used his tongue to further part her lips. Felicity savored how he felt as his lips began to move like waves upon the shore again her mouth. She felt a soft moan of elation spreading through her chest and towards her throat the moment their tongues touched. Her blood raced through her body as his touch sent small embers of desire toward first her mind, then her heart, and then finally her soul.

 Felicity cried out along their joined lips. Oliver's touch grew rougher as he began to move their bodies down toward the cushions of her sofa. Felicity wrapped her legs around his waist. Oliver moved his palms up along her shoulders until he had them against her cheeks. “We're not having sex,” Felicity warned as Oliver's knees came to rest along her hips.

 Oliver let out a small, “Agreed but, you can't blame me for trying…” as their lips once again joined.

 “Ask me out,” Felicity almost begged as she tugged his hips down against hers with her calves.

 Oliver choked out a feeble, “Would tomorrow work for you?”

 Felicity let out a breathy, “Yes,” as she dragged her fingers down his shoulders and, towards his hips.

 Once Felicity felt Oliver's waistband she knew they had to stop. She dragged her hands towards his face as his tongue once again began to massage her own. Felicity pulled the tips of her fingers along the lines of his jaw, while Oliver's thumbs moved along her cheeks. “Oliver we really have to stop,” she moaned as their feverish kisses began to slow.

 “I know,” he acknowledged as their foreheads began to touch.

 Felicity smiled as her blue eyes settled on his own. “Did you really think I was beautiful when you first saw me two years ago?”

 Oliver smiled at her question then pecked her lips once more. Felicity grinned against his touch when he said, “You'll have ask me that again when we have our first date.”

 With another chaste kiss Felicity said, “Oh don't worry I will.”

Tagging: @michealajulius @blondeeoneexox @relativelyobsessedfangirl @thebookjumper @emmaamelia95 @hope-for-olicity @coal000 @missyriver @supersillyanddorky06 @mel-loves-all @love2luvyyou @memcjo @smoakingarrow19 @independent-fics @green-arrows-of-karamel @blondiegrl00 @it-was-a-red-heeler @diggo26 @charlinert @oliverfel4 @swordandarrow @scu11y22 @vaelisamaza @ireland1733 @redpensandgreenarrows @emmilynestill @rivaroma23 @miriam1779 @jaspertown @marytagus @onceuponarrow @lalawo1 @pleasantfanandstudent @alemap74 @kathrynelizabeth89 @sweetzcupcake @jedichick04 @nalla-madness @quiveringbunny @mrsbubblelee @olicitylovemaking @almondblossomme @befitandchase @pimsiepim @andjustforthismoment @anonymiss118 @thelockpickingvictorian @yet-i-remain-quiet @lexi9515 @marniforolicity @myhauntedblacksoul @myuntetheredsoul @felicity-said-just-in-case @i-m-a-fan-world @emilyp05 @missafairy @cainc3 @captainolicitysbedroom @yespleasehawkeyee @tdgal1 @wherethereissmoak @fangirlfromthenorthcountry @sabahuniverse 

[habibialkaysani]

2,6,8,12,21,23,27,28,29,30

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?

currently I write for: killjoys, arrow and the flash and I dabble occasionally in legends of tomorrow. I used to write for: supernatural (god help me but it was only one story phew), still star crossed (cancelled after like half a season sadly) and harry potter (on another site, mugglenet fan fiction).

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?

lmaooooo what about every single ol!c!ty fic ever? mostly because they were my first attempts at writing after like two or three years of a completely dry quill so I feel like my rustiness really showed. esp with the smut :P

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

often it’s the little things - a line on a tv show, a bit of poetry, the chorus of a song, a gifset or fanvid that is particularly hurty. it’s like - when I feel that emotional punch I’m like YES I gotta try and replicate that feeling in something else. 

but also - it’s kinda weird, but longish journeys on public transport, esp when there is little to no internet access, is really helpful for my muse. it kinda forces me to step away from distractions and focus on writing and I honestly didn’t realise how much I needed that until I moved back home and worked pretty close to home so I didn’t travel as much. now I’m commuting a fair distance every day, I’ve been much more productive.

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?

 dinah laurel lance, ofc. but with iris west allen and nyssa al ghul being joint close seconds nowadays :)

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

so I love love love @freaoscanlin‘s fics. I’m not caught up on my faves’ ao3 pages yet but I have a ton of things bookmarked for when I get a moment and guhhh I’m looking forward to reading frea’s because there’s always this sense of empowerment in the women she writes - laurel, felicity, nyssa, sara, helena. not to mention her dialogue is spot on, so sharp and on the nose that honestly she does a way better job than the error writers ever could. 

@smilinstar also is someone I want to give a shoutout to. again I’m not caught up on everything and I know she’s been writing spideychelle fic lately but like. there’s such a wonderful strong sense of setting to her fics and it makes for wonderful reading that would be page-turning if I was reading her fic as a book. (page scroller doesn’t have the same ring to it lmao but that’s what it is :D) and just. there is so much heart in everything sumona writes that it honestly makes my heart ache, and considering I was nowhere near as invested in time canary before I started reading her fic and now I adore it and have even had a go myself, that is definitely saying something.

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?

music, usually. sometimes my music auto stops and I don’t realise because I’m just that engrossed in writing. but mostly I do need some kind of noise.   

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?

I write almost entirely oneshots and my longer fics are either unfinished or still short by long fic standard. so I am definitely more a go with the flow kinda girl. having said that, I am currently planning and writing an original novel and I’ve been using a three-act structure to try and make sense of all the ideas I have. and although I haven’t updated them in a while, I do mostly have my fics on ao3 grouped according to pairing/characters and then put in chronological order from the show’s canon. so in that sense I don’t have an outline but I keep up with what goes on on different timelines within my own fanon.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction?

um if I could I would go back in time and tell past me to look up the words she didn’t understand so she could avoid badfic and in particular badsmut and smut involving questionable kinks that would scar her for life.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

rarely do I like how a fic turned out. but vows was one of them - a lauryssa fic where laurel and nyssa make promises to each other over four different universes. and idk. maybe it was the length - I rarely go over 3k in all honesty so this being 6k may have scared people off or something. I got some comments but kudos wise this is one of my lowest which makes me sad. 

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

if I look at the top of my ao3 stats page again all I see is ol!c!ty smut and it’s just all so bad that I wonder why I haven’t taken those fics down. I know why - because I like feeling validated knowing my most read fic has 9k views and well over 200 kudos, even if it’s for badly written sex and like. really rusty writing lmao.

thank you ally you’re my hero

fanfiction writer asks

[anne-wentworth]

Stroke of Midnight

“You’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?” au. College au (kinda) as well.

Read on ao3

Felicity idly scanned the room littered with people, drunk and dancing to the music that blasted in the background. She already knew that the one person who actually mattered to her wasn’t there. She had seen him slink away from the crowd earlier, unnoticed.

Unnoticed by everyone but her of course.

She had decided to give him a few moments alone before she began questioning him.

Oliver had been off all night. He was quieter than usual and his smiles didn’t quite reach his eyes. But when she asked if everything was okay, he shrugged her off, unable to meet her gaze as he lied and told her he was fine.

Placing her empty cup on the ground, she got up off the couch and started making her way upstairs. She had waited long enough.

Upon reaching his room, she pushed the door open without so much as a knock. There wasn’t anything she hadn’t walked in on him doing over the years, Isobel Rochev being the worst of them all.

“I knew you’d come up here eventually,” Oliver said from where he was sprawled out on his bed, his eyes following her as she entered.

“I came to find out why you’re not at your own party,” she proclaimed, climbing into bed next to him as he scooted over to make more room.

“I’m just feeling tired,” he shrugged lamely.

Felicity immediately shot him her don’t bullshit me look that she inherited from her mother.

“Finals grades came out today,” he finally admitted with a sigh.

“So early?”

Felicity couldn’t hide her surprise. MIT at least had the decency to let their students enjoy the holidays before breaking their spirits.

Oliver nodded and from the look on his face she didn’t need to ask him how he did.

“They weren’t good,” he said anyway and the sadness in his voice made her ache.

It’s not like he wasn’t used to getting bad grades. In fact he was only at an Ivy League school because of his father’s money. But for the first time, Oliver had actually tried.

Oliver’s half drunken confession of I’m tired of being a disappointment on one of their last days before leaving for college danced at the edge of Felicity’s memory.

She wanted to erase the broken expression he wore then the same way that she wanted to now but there wasn’t much she could do.

“You tried,” she finally said, gently lacing their fingers together. “That’s the most important thing. That you did your best.”

“And yet it’s not enough,” he replied drily.

“That’s why you have to keep trying.”

“That’s so easy for you to say,” he stated matter of factly but not resentfully. “You’re brilliant.”

“We can’t all be born geniuses,” she quipped and her heart jumped as the corners of his mouth turned up.

“How are you so perfect?” he asked softly, still wearing that little smile she loved.

Just five words and her stupid stomach was doing flip flops.

“Really? Perfect?” she asked, gesturing at the general area of her face.

“Felicity you’re beautiful,” Oliver declared simply with a roll of his eyes, as if it was the truest thing in the world.

She quickly looked away, hoping that he wouldn’t see her blush.

Neither spoke, letting a comfortable silence blanket them as they stared up at the ceiling, still hand in hand. Felicity could faintly hear the noise downstairs but she couldn’t care less about the party. The only place she wanted to be was right there, with her best friend.

Felicity would happily spend the rest of her life with Oliver if only he’d ask.

“Do you remember when we were six and made that pact that if we didn’t have a New Year’s kiss by the time we were eighteen we would kiss each other?” Oliver asked suddenly, jolting her out of her thoughts that were leading her somewhere dangerous.

“Oh my god yes,” Felicity laughed.

She had seen her parents and Oliver’s parents kissing as the clock stuck midnight and out of curiosity, asked why people did that. Donna had told her that it was a tradition that when two people loved each other, they kissed at the start of the new year. Felicity had been absolutely enchanted by that, thinking that such a kiss must be magical. So she had sworn to Oliver that if she was all grown up and still hadn’t kissed anyone, that she would kiss him. And he agreed because he agreed with everything she said.

That was back when Oliver’s parents still did things like that.

Back before her father left.

A long time ago.

But some things still hadn’t changed.

“How many girls have you kissed on New Year’s since then?” Felicity inquired teasingly.

“None actually.”

“Wait you’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?”

It was impossible to conceal her shock at his answer.

Oliver merely shook his head in response.

“Why not?”

“I guess I thought...that it should be special,” he said shyly.

This time he was the one avoiding her gaze.

“Oliver Queen is a romantic,” Felicity mused. “Who knew?”

He shot her a glare and she countered with a grin.

“What about you?” he asked. “How many New Year’s kisses have you had?”

“Oh I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss either.”

“Why not?”

“You’re not the only romantic in the room,” she replied quietly.

More than ten years later and the only person she wanted to kiss on New Year’s Eve was still him.

Oliver had been her best friend since their first day at preschool when some girls had made fun of her glasses and Oliver had fiercely come to her defense. He was there when her father abandoned them and she didn’t understand why and told her it wasn’t her fault when she thought it was. He was there for her Bat Mitzvah, reassuring her that no one would notice the huge zit that had appeared on her forehead the night before, even though it was a lie. He was the one she gushed to about her first kiss and whose shoulder she cried on when the same asshole broke her heart. After every competition or award she won he was always right there with Donna to congratulate her and take her out for ice cream to celebrate.

Through it all, Oliver had been there for her. He knew everything about her.

Except the fact that she was in love with him.

Right then, with fingers still intertwined he was looking at her as if she hung the moon in the sky and she was damn near breathless. She wondered what would happen if she threw caution to the wind and just kissed him.

God how she wanted to kiss him.

But he would never love her like that.

The realization hit her like a tidal wave, freezing out the warmth that had spread throughout her body.

Quickly, she pulled away from him, making her way out of the bed.

“I should get back to the party,” she mumbled as she headed for the door.

“Felicity wait,” Oliver said, coming up behind her and tenderly grasping her wrist.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she slowly spun around, sparks flying where his skin met hers.

Their gazes were locked as the atmosphere in the room thickened until it could be cut with a knife.

Felicity lost herself in those pure blue eyes. They were an ocean that she desperately wanted to drown in.

Distinctly, she heard everyone downstairs counting down.

The world slowed as the seconds ticked by, the stars above watching and waiting to see what would be done. Fate held her breath and she looked down at the boy and girl who would one day rule the world together.

And as the clock struck twelve, their lips crashed together.

Felicity’s hands were in his hair and his were on her waist and colors swirled behind her eyes as her heart woke up. Felicity kissed him as if he was air and she was finally breathing for the first time. Oliver’s mouth moved against hers and this was a luxury that paled in comparison to anything else.

Every single moment ceased to exist because they knew they would never be as significant as this one. The entire universe fell at their feet.

The fireworks going off outside couldn’t compare to the ones exploding in her chest.

It was just as magical as she imagined.

All too soon, they broke apart and Felicity was drunk on all that he was.

Oliver’s eyes were filled with wonder and she knew she looked the same.

She couldn’t believe she had just kissed Oliver Queen.

“Happy New Year Felicity,” he said softly, his forehead resting against hers.

“Happy New Year Oliver,” she whispered, almost afraid to shatter the bubble they constructed around themselves.

He grinned as he pulled her even closer and she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him the way she had all her life.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted.

“Better late than never,” she cracked, even as she was coated in quiet disbelief.

Oliver cared about her the same way she cared about him.

He sent her a little glare and she laughed, unadulterated happiness filtering through her veins.

All of a sudden, he picked her up and Felicity squealed as he carried her back over to the bed.

“I hate you,” she said, looking up at him after he lay her down.

“Do you really?” he asked, his face mere inches from hers.

“Shut up,” Felicity grumbled before pulling him down, their lips meeting once more.

She was never going to stop kissing him.

And as the party continued downstairs, Oliver and Felicity built a home out of his blankets, fading into each other as the night disappeared around them.

Felicity didn’t know how long they had spent tangled together when her eyes began falling shut as she listened to the beating of Oliver’s heart.

“Oliver?” she said abruptly, her voice drenched in sleep as she recalled their earlier conversation.

“Yeah?”

“I’m proud of you. I know it doesn’t mean as much-”

“It means everything to me,” he interrupted, completely sincere.

With those words echoing in her brain, Felicity drifted off, a small smile on her features as Oliver stroked her hair.

What a way to begin the new year. What a way to begin everything.

[gashinamoon]

Across the Hall - an Olicity AU

Words: 2405

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Humour, Feels, Neighbours AU

Summary: Felicity Smoak is used to being alone, used to loneliness. Until one day she doesn't want to be.

Notes: I woke up feeling sad and miserable and instead of wallowing in it, I decided to channel it into some writing. I'm posting this as a new work rather than sticking it in with my drabbles even though I currently have no plans to write anymore to it, just in case my muse ever strikes and wants me to continue it. I always forget how much I love a good old Neighbours AU until I start reading/writing them. And writing this has left me with only 3.2k words left to hit my Camp NaNoWriMo goal, so yay!

Any words of encouragement are always greatly appreciated! So please let me know what you think of this once you're done :)

Read on AO3

Friday nights are the worst.

Felicity is used to being by herself, she's used to the dull ache of loneliness and has grown to just accept it as part of herself at this point. She’s used to doing everything alone and spending entire days in silence, entire weeks without really communicating with anyone besides the cashier at the grocery store or the doorman delivering her takeout or the casual exchanges of small talk with her neighbour who lives across the hall whenever they happen to cross paths every now and then. Sometimes she even enjoys the long, quiet days; sometimes they feel more like solitude than loneliness.

But Friday nights are hard because she's aware more than usual of now unusual it is for a human being to spend so much time alone.

If she's really quiet, which she usually is, she can hear people in the apartments nearby all getting ready to go out on Friday evenings. She hears them playing music, singing loudly and out of key as the alcohol they're consuming starts to take over their body. She hears them greet friends and offer them inside. She hears them laughing and singing some more, together this time. And then she hears the door close as they head out for the night, to bars and movies and dinner dates.

The building is never quite as quiet as it is on Friday evenings, the loneliness never quite as loud.

Felicity knows she's partly to blame for the way her life is now. She knows she could try harder to make friends, introduce herself properly to her neighbours, even go out downtown one evening and start talking to people in bars. She knows she could look for a job, one in an office building or a store, anything other than one that she does from home, day in day out just sitting on her computer at her dining room table. She knows she could join the gym, go to a class on poetry or pottery, start going running or hiking with local groups. But she doesn't. Whenever she convinces herself to try, she talks herself out of it in the end. Convinces herself she's perfectly happy and content being by herself.

And she is.

Until the days where she isn't.

Until the days where she feels suffocated by silence and wants to stand out in the street and scream and beg for someone to notice her. Until the days where she sits alone and cries into the arm of the couch for what feels like hours. Until the days where she can't face getting out of bed in a morning because the thought of another breakfast alone is just too much to bear.

She hears her mother’s voice in her head on those days, strong and warm and whole, as though she’s standing right in front of her with her hands on her hips and a stern but soft look on her face. “You need to get out there, Felicity. You need to let people in.”

She misses her mom so much. She can't believe it's been two years now since she passed away.

She knows her mom is right, she knows that she should open the door and get out there, just out of her apartment, but she's become so used to the safety of her four walls. Nothing can hurt her in here. Nothing can leave her.

But for once in her life it's Friday again and she's sick of being alone. She's sick of drinking wine by herself and falling asleep halfway through a movie before it's barely 9pm because she's so exhausted.

So before she can even talk herself out of it, she's leaving her apartment and crossing the hall, hesitating only minutely before knocking on the door of her neighbour, the only one who has ever made an effort to speak to her in passing. She doesn't blame her other neighbours for ignoring her. She knows she walks around with her headphones on and her hood up and refuses to make eye contact or smile at anyone. She knows she's not an approachable person in the slightest.

But that's never stopped him. He's smiled and said hi almost every single time he's seen her for as long as she can remember, ever since she moved in two years ago. She doesn't even speak back sometimes, but that doesn't seem to deter him. Sometimes, those basic and short interactions with him have felt life saving. A simple hello can mean so much when you're as lonely as she is.

She doesn't know much about him; their conversations, if you can call them that, have never strayed beyond small talk. The most she knows about him is that he loves the rain. She knows that because whenever it's raining and she bumps into him, he tells her what a wonderful day it is. She hates the rain, but hearing him say that always makes her smile anyway.

She's deep in thought when he answers the door. He looks confused for a fraction of a second before a smile crosses his face. “Hey, you.”

Felicity smiles back. “Hi. I know this is weird because we don't really know each other but-”

“I know you. You're the mysterious girl from across the hall who hates the rain and is always listening to music,” he grins, leaning on the door frame looking completely at ease.

She's never really paid attention before to how tall he is, but he towers over her even leaning over like that. Normally she’d find that intimidating. But she doesn't feel intimidated at all, not whilst he’s smiling at her the way he is. Her face feels hot under his gaze and she knows she’s blushing. She hopes he doesn't notice.

“Right, I mean besides that, obviously.”

“Obviously.” There's that grin again, it reaches all the way to his eyes.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I know we don't really know each other and I've never knocked on your door before, but I was wondering if you'd like to come over and watch a movie with me? I have wine and snacks and an impressive collection of horrors. Or sci-fis. Or any movie, really. Except romantic movies. I hate those.”

“I can tell. You really don't look like the kind of girl who would cry herself to sleep over The Notebook.”

“Nicholas Sparks is the worst. His novels are so unrealistic. And someone always dies! I can't believe people actually want to make movies about depressing stuff like that. I don't understand why anyone would invest so much time into something that's going to make them feel miserable. I mean, what's the point? There's plenty of stuff in reality that makes people cry without creating fiction that does the same thing,” she laughs, rolling her eyes

Oliver doesn't respond, he just looks at her intensely, still smiling, like he's trying to figure out a puzzle.

She shifts awkwardly, resting her weight on one leg and then the other.

“Who would have ever thought you had so much to say?” He asks, although she's not sure he's asking her directly or whether the question is rhetorical, a thought he’s said aloud.

She shrugs anyway, biting her lip. “Sorry.”

He almost looks offended as she speaks. “Don't apologise. You have a nice voice.”

She blushes again and this time she knows he notices because his eyes warm and his smile grows as she feels the heat in her cheeks.

He holds out his hand. “I'm Oliver, by the way. I figured if we’re going to hang out, you should probably know my name.”

She takes his hand and shakes it, delighting in how warm and firm his touch is, feeling goosebumps run down her spine. It's been so long since anyone touched her. So long she can hardly bear to think about it. She inhales deeply, shakily, trying to stop her mind from going there.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and she silently screams at herself inside her head for being so readable.

“Yup. Fine. Just fine.” He's still holding her hand. “I'm Felicity,” she forces herself to say, before she lets go and returns her hand back to her side.

Oliver watches her every movement and for the first time that evening, she starts to question whether this was a good idea after all. Maybe making friends with an attractive stranger wasn't the best way to start after years of extremely minimal social interaction and human contact. Maybe she should just go home and call an old friend from high school or something.

“Felicity,” he says thoughtfully. “It suits you.”

She snorts. “Really? You know that it means happiness, right? I don't think I could be any less suited to my name.”

But Oliver doesn't laugh, he just smiles softly at her. “I think I could prove you wrong.”

It sounds like a promise.

She doesn't know what to say so she's says nothing. She figures he's used to her silence by now anyway.

He watches her for a long time and surprisingly, Felicity grows less and less uncomfortable the longer he does. She still can't bring herself to meet his eyes, so she continues staring at his hands instead. She wants to hold his hand again. She hates how much she wants to hold his hand again.

“Are you seeing anyone, Oliver?” She asks, surprising herself and him, and she blushes again. “Not that I'm asking for any particular reason, obviously. I'm just making conversation.”

She curls her fingers into tight fists, until she can feel her nails digging into her palms and for the second time wishes she hadn't come over after all. But Oliver doesn't seem too phased by her question. His eyes only stay surprised for a short while before the warmth returns to them and his smile.

“Honestly, Felicity, I'm not sure.”

She looks up at him then, meeting his eyes, and for the first time, she sees a hint of sadness in them. The overpowering urge to hold his hand returns but she forces it down, curling her fingers even tighter into her palms, almost until it hurts.

“It sounds like there's a story behind that,” she says and he chuckles, softly.

“Maybe after that wine you promised, I'll tell you about it,” he replies, his smile returning as he leans into his apartment and grabs his phone and keys, slipping them into his pocket. “Should I bring anything?”

“Hmm, well I have chips and I'm sure I have popcorn in the cupboard somewhere. And the wine, like I said. But it would be awesome if you happened to have ice-cream or something.”

“I have ice-cream.”

“What flavour?”

“Guess.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said guess. Try and guess what kind of ice-cream is my favourite. Which kind I always have in my freezer.”

Felicity stands back a little and regards him. For some reason, she desperately wants to get this right. She thinks carefully over each flavour inside her head, trying to picture exactly which one he’d indulge on after a long day at work.

“My instinct is to say chocolate, but that's boring. That's the obvious choice. And I don't think you're that obvious,” she begins, watching his face for any clue that she’s getting the answer wrong. When she doesn't spot any, she continues. “And I don't think you're a vanilla kind of guy either.”

Oliver chuckles, watching her as she watches him. “You really thought long and hard about this, didn't you?”

“I'm usually really good at reading people, I just haven't had a lot of practice lately. So I wanted to make sure I got this right,” she smiles, amusement pulling at her lips as she watches his reaction, watches him raise his eyebrows questioningly at her, clearly in disbelief that she’s going to guess correctly.

She thinks for a few more long seconds before she decides.

“Raspberry Ripple,” she says, confidently. “Am I right?”

He doesn't answer her right away, just continues looking at her with an unreadable expression.

“What makes you say that?” He asks, opening his door fully and stepping inside towards his freezer.

“I'm not sure, exactly. I just know that people wouldn't expect it. So that's why you choose it. No one would ever assume that you like the slightly bitter but deliciously sweet taste of raspberry in your ice-cream. Not a lot of people do. Most people prefer more conventional flavours. And that's why raspberry is your favourite. Because it's unexpected,” she says, thoughtfully, partly making it up on the spot and partly just watching his face and letting it tell her what to say. “And also because the stores never run out of it. Because it's no one’s favourite,” she adds with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Oliver is standing so still and looking at her so intensely that her joke goes unappreciated. She clears her throat awkwardly.

A smile creeps back onto Oliver’s face as he reaches into the freezer and pulls out a tub of ice-cream. Before he's even turned around to face her again, she knows she was right.

Raspberry Ripple.

“See? I told you I was good at reading people,” she says, feeling pleased and proud of herself.

She's glad she hasn't lost the ability to read others. In fact, if anything, it's probably stronger now than it ever was. Being a natural born introvert has always made it easy for Felicity to watch people and learn things about them without them ever having to say a word. She used to spend her entire lunch breaks at school just sitting in the cafeteria guessing things about the lives of her classmates around her. And given that she hasn't really spoken to anyone since her mother died, and before that even, most of her life is spent watching people, learning them, comparing their behaviours and unconscious habits.

“Felicity, you are remarkable,” Oliver says, as he approaches her again, his eyes meeting hers with that same intense look he’d had before, except now it’s a little softer around the edges.

She smiles somewhat awkwardly under his gaze. “Thank you for remarking on it.”

Oliver grins at that and steps out of his apartment, letting the door close softly behind him, the ice cream tucked under one arm. “So, where’s this wine you keep talking about?”

She smiles back. “Follow me.”

If you want to be tagged in my fics/chapter updates, feel free to let me know! :)

(Also, let me know if there’s anything you don’t want to be tagged in! i.e. fics that aren’t strictly Olicity/Arrow, I’m more than happy to remove tags!)

@geniewithwifi @scu11y22  @dandeelies @ghostfoxlovely @bellemmie @keytoflowers2509 @relativelyobsessedfangirl @oliverfel4 @hope-for-olicity @lemonlime799 @pleasantfanandstudent @almondblossomme @broken-canary @green-arrows-of-karamel @youngfolksoldsoul @lovethishealthylife @wherethereissmoak @flowerandsunshine @deyanirasilvaurtubia @chachurka @ontheolicityship

[theshipsfirstmate]

Arrow Fic: I Have Been Homesick For You Since We Met

post-5x21, Felicity watches Oliver’s press conference and has a talk with Thea.

“It's not time. Not just yet. But maybe soon. They're not planets in orbit around each other, they’re comets scorching through constellations, alternating near misses on an inevitable collision course.”

Title from “A Father’s First Spring” by The Avett Brothers.

I Have Been Homesick For You Since We Met (AO3)

Oliver texts to tell her about the press conference, and somewhere in between reading his message and replying, Felicity's slipped her heels back on and buzzed the doorman to hail a car. Next thing she knows, she's at City Hall.

She enters the building, and knows the route to the briefing room by heart, but when she hits the lobby, her feet turn to lead and won't carry her any further. She’s genuinely contemplating walking right back out the way she came when she catches sight of one of the wall-mounted TVs. Oliver is taking the podium and something in her chest still swells at the sight of him standing in front of the cameras, speaking to the city he’s given everything to protect.

The volume icon on the screen ticks up until she can hear his voice and after holding her breath for a long, heartbreaking moment when he admits that “the allegations made against Robert Queen are true,” she turns around to see the friendly security guard at the front desk watching either her or the TV.

“Thanks, Lito.” The uniformed man gives her a familiar smile and a mock salute with the remote control.

“You going up, Ms. Smoak?” he asks. “I can print you a visitor pass.”

The question shouldn't throw her for a loop, but it does. Oliver's given dozens of these press conferences since taking office. Felicity used to love being in the room as he commanded it, watching him lead the city the way he was meant to, and feeling her heart take a stutter step every time he met her eyes on a particularly meaningful turn of phrase.

She hasn't been to one since they split, and she's almost certain it would be too much. She's glad to have trusted that instinct when she hears Oliver continue.

“It’s time to leave the past in the past, so that our children may inherit the Star City we’ve always dreamed of.”

Felicity hears her words about his father echoed back in that line, but she can’t help but picture the school photo of William that she uncovered during her dark web deep dive to try and find where Oliver’s son and his mother had dropped off the grid. She’s spent the days since their harrowing entrapment in the bunker waiting for the other shoe to drop and avoiding the sting that comes when she thinks about how he’s chosen to trust her now that the dust has settled around the ruins of their life together, now that she’s apologized for walking out, now that he’s out of other options.

But that’s not the only thing that hurts.

She hadn't been ready for kids, of that much she’s certain. She still isn’t. This work they do is only conducive to heartbreak, and she's spent more than a few sleepless nights weighing the ethics of bringing more life into a world fraught with pain and destruction. Even still, in the face of every logical argument, Felicity’s come to realize that some subconscious part of her had believed that eventually, the two of them would hand down a legacy together.

There’s a hurricane raging inside her, but she still finds herself waiting in the lobby after the press have finished their questions and the local station switches back to regularly-scheduled programming. Mercifully, it’s not Oliver who happens upon her first in the exiting current of reporters, it’s Thea.

“Hey!” Felicity reaches out to hug the younger Queen, who relents after slightly longer pause than normal. “How are you?”

Thea feels like next to nothing in her arms, and when they pull back, Felicity can see that her time away hasn't done anything to lighten the worrisome smudges underneath her eyes. She's got that haunted look that creeps up on Oliver sometimes, and Felicity’s heart aches because she knows even less about how to fix this Queen.

“Feels like I should be asking you the same thing.” Thea replies, avoiding the question and Felicity's eyeline. “Ollie told me about your bunker death trap lockdown. The chip’s OK?”

“Oh yeah, Curtis fixed me up in no time.” Oliver's sister's gaze returns to her with sharp focus then, and Felicity wonders if she'll go as far as to press her on what she really wants to be asking. She’s slyer than Curtis, but often delights in pushing the two of them into awkward circumstances or making them answer for the longing looks that even Felicity’s growing weary of denying.

But today, Thea seems like she’s a million miles away. “You came for the speech?”

“Yeah.” It’s more of a breath than an answer as Felicity wrestles with the hot burn of embarrassment that stains her cheeks. She had come for the speech, she just hadn’t quite made it there. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“There's nothing to apologize for,” Thea says with false levity and an even more fraudulent pursed-lip smirk. “At least he's not as sinister as my biological father, right? Not nearly.”

Rage like an adrenaline rush floods Felicity’s veins at the mere mention of Malcolm Merlyn.

“You’re nothing like him.” The words press through clenched teeth and her jaw only relaxes when she remembers someone who might be more convincing. “Did Oliver show you the video?”

“Yeah, he did. We talked about…a lot.” She heaves a sigh that tells Felicity that's not an exaggeration. “About our dad, and… mostly about leaving the past in the past.”

This time, the reference tugs a hint of a smile at the corner of Felicity's mouth and Thea must catch it. “That was one of yours, huh?”

“Not specifically,” she lies in the face of the other woman’s knowing grin. “We just had another one of those conversations about how maybe his burdens aren’t his alone to carry.”

It’s the same talk they’ve been having for years, Felicity thinks to herself. She tries to chip away at his walls with whatever tools she has handy, while Oliver stockpiles bricks and mortar on the other side.

“Talked him back into the suit and back up on that podium,” Thea muses. “Feels familiar. Might as well get that ring back on your finger.”

“Thea, come on.” Felicity’s shocked by both her sharp, immediate response and her visceral reaction to the suggestion. It's agonizing, thinking of what was, and what could have been. Even the flippant possibility of getting that happiness back sends an unwanted flash of hope through her that’s more lightning bolt than static spark.

“Come on, what?” Thea’s tone is less playful than her eye roll would indicate. “You're being goddamn idiots, both of you.”

But Felicity’s still got electrical current running through her, and she stays quiet for a long enough moment that Thea heaves a sympathetic sigh. “Sorry.”

“It's OK.” Felicity hates how small her voice can sound around members of this family. “I know you didn't mean it.”

“No, I meant it,” Thea cuts back, with a tone that leaves no doubt about whether or not she’s Moira Queen’s daughter. “But I didn't mean for it to sound like that. I just… you guys are only wasting time, you know? Life is short, and if you have even a chance to be happy…”

“We’re not the same people.” Now it's Felicity's turn for a sharp interruption. “We're so different from who we were when we were together, when he…”

The tears in her throat muck up the explanation she’s recited in her head countless times, and she clears it before articulating the most important point: “Too much has changed.”

“Some things are the same, though.” Thea Queen is the perfect storm of smart and stubborn, and it’s only fun when it’s not your boat that’s getting tossed through the whitecaps. “The most important thing is the same, and isn't that all that matters?”

That's the question Felicity's been asking herself since she saw Oliver lying in an ARGUS medical bed, smiling at her after pulling them both from the jaws of certain death, and realized it was futile to pretend that her heart wasn't beating the same cadence it has been for five long, agonizing, wonderful years.

But there's still no perfect answer to their biggest problems, and there never has been. They've tried once already, and failed so spectacularly that Felicity’s not sure she'd survive the drop again.

Then, just as her heart is turning itself over on nothing more than a memory, Oliver’s standing in front of her, and there isn't an excuse in this world or any other that can measure up to the feeling in her chest when their eyes meet. His are rimmed with red and shiny with a mess of emotions that she’d be able to pick through one by one if she stared for long enough. She’s not certain what he sees in hers, but she has a pretty good guess.

He hugs his sister first, murmuring a few words in her ear -- and Felicity tries not to notice how his figure makes Thea look impossibly thinner still -- then turns to her almost on instinct, like he might wrap his arms around her too. He settles for cupping her elbow with a warm, calloused hand, and she says a silent prayer that her sigh isn't embarrassingly audible.

“Felicity.” He's saying her name like that again, like it’s a complete sentence. It seems to have started back up after their moment in the ARGUS facility, but she hadn’t realized just how long it had been until earlier in the bunker, when he laid his hand on her shoulder. “Thanks for coming.”

His name in return, and all her excuses, get stuck in her throat at the feeling of his thumb grazing her upper arm. So she says the next best thing that comes to mind: “It was a good speech.”

He gives her a little smile, like he knows what she's trying to tell him. But before she finds out if that’s true, her phone buzzes with an alert from the new security system. “Someone’s in the bunker.”

A few more taps reveals the surveillance feed, and she breathes a sigh of relief upon seeing the familiar face. “It’s just Rene.”

“I told everyone we were laying low tonight.” Oliver says with a frown, which almost, almost covers Felicity's slip of the tongue.

“Speaking of fathers...” She trails off, but both Queen siblings turn to her with a genetically-resemblant furrowed brow, and wait with that infuriatingly practiced patience until she explains.

“I just… Quentin said he missed his custody hearing earlier.”

She turns her focus towards Oliver, anticipating the layers of his disappointed reaction. But they're both taken aback when Thea vocalizes her own. “He what?”

Felicity's genuinely not sure if she's asking her to repeat herself. “Yeah, he just... didn't show.”

“That idiot,” Thea’s seething, and it’s the most extreme emotion Felicity’s seen from her in months. “I'll go.”

The confusion must be visible on their faces, because she offers a feeble excuse as she turns for the door. “I have to stop by anyway, I left the USB down there.”

She's up to something, and Felicity hasn’t the faintest idea what. Thea’s always been the best of all of them at keeping secrets and this one sees to have come out of nowhere. “What was that?”

“I have no clue,” Oliver breathes, and she talks herself back into believing that she knows what he sounds like when he's telling the truth. “Thea's always been the mysterious one.”

She nods and he does too, quirking an eyebrow when the corners of her mouth twitch unconsciously.

And then it’s just the two of them. Again. They've been careful to avoid this kind of interaction since their night in the bunker loosened the cap on everything they’ve been keeping sealed up, but now it’s like someone’s shaking the bottle.

Felicity speaks first, almost as a reflex. “It was a good speech.”

Oliver grins, and she notices that the red in his eyes only makes the blue shine more brilliantly. “You said that already.” It’s hard to know what to do when he smiles at her like that, like things are easy and attainable, like the undeniable pull between them is enough. It’s hard to remember how to breathe, let alone control her rampant thoughts.

“Yeah, but I meant something different this time,” she admits, almost breathlessly, like she’s run a mile just to tell him the truth. “You're a good son.”

Felicity can’t remember when they moved so close, but he takes her hands in his then, and the whole world freezes. “Can I tell you something?”

She should say no, even though it is his turn. She should take a step back. She should remind him that they’re standing in the lobby of City Hall and almost every member of the Star City press is milling through the public space. But instead, she just nods.

“I was standing up there just now, looking out at all the faces... looking for you.” The catch in her throat is audible and he squeezes her hands gently. “And I realized that speech might be the best thing I ever do in my father's name.”

And it could be one of the last, she mentally adds, knowing there's a good chance he's thinking the same thing.

“But,” Oliver continues, and she can’t look away, hope looks so good on him, “it doesn’t have to be the best thing I ever do.”

It reminds Felicity of his words in the bunker, the confession that had spilled from his lips as the life seemed to drain out of him, and she’s hit with a sudden rush of blissful relief for the mere fact that, if nothing else, they’ve made it to today.

“You're a good son, Oliver.” She tells him again because it’s true more than one time over, and because she knows he needs to hear it as much as possible. But she surprises even herself with the next part. “And you're a good father.”

Her eyes have gone glossy with unshed tears, so much so that she can't really tell if his are shimmering back. But he squeezes her hands again, and tugs her just that much closer and it forces out her most painful truth.

“I always knew you would be.”

Even in a perfect world, where the danger is conquerable and their secrets aren’t life-changing and there are more good days than bad, Felicity can admit that she’s still not sure she’d ever be ready for kids. But the thing is, she hadn’t been sure about marriage either, until Oliver Queen was holding out a diamond with a question in his eyes.

He’s standing in front of her now, just like he has been for years. But he doesn’t have anything to ask her, and she doesn’t have any answers.

“I should go.” She says that instead of a thousand other things. “It was a good speech.”

The tears trip down her cheeks then, and when he comes into focus, he’s looking at her like he used to. Just like he's saying her name like he used to, just like he's touching her like he used to. He's looking at like he does when he wants to tell her that he loves her.

But when he opens his mouth to speak, she can't let him.

“I know.” It's not time. Not just yet. But maybe soon. They're not planets in orbit around each other, they’re comets scorching through constellations, alternating near misses on an inevitable collision course.

“Felicity.” There it is again. She has to go before the last vestiges of her willpower give out and she succumbs to something neither of them are ready for.

“It's OK,” she tells him. For now, it's enough. “I know.”

[laurabelle2930]

Every Life has a Moment 3/5 ~Olicity Fic

So here’s 3/5 and this time a lot of heavy emotions come out to play so yes I might be warning you to have a tissue handy. 

As always enjoy and you can read it here or on A03

“Past Issues”

Last time in Chapter two....

1 Year Later…

“You’re not asking me to marry you?” she squeaked from the floor of their shared home.

Oliver fell to his knees and wept openly, “Yeah baby I am…”

She gazed at him with tear filled eyes, “You wouldn’t be if I wasn’t pregnant…”

Oliver shook his head ruefully then placed the ring box on the ground between them, “When will you believe you mean everything to me?”

She sputtered as her palm flew to her stomach, “When I believe that you only loved me…”

Twelve hours before...

She heard his knuckles lightly rapping on the bathroom door while her forehead lay resting over the edge of the toilet seat. She grumbled in misery, “I’m okay baby it’s just my stomach again...” 

She heard his forehead inching down the door panes as he sighed gently, “Honey please just cancel the lunch. It’s just mom, and the social chair for the committee that they both want you to organize...” 

Felicity’s insides churned violently as the acid from her stomach coursed through her throat, she felt the burn before the stinging acid bit along her tongue moments before it came falling past her pale lips. Her body quivered as her stomach’s contents came up forcefully through her slight form. Oliver pleaded gingerly, “Felicity please just cancel the lunch, I’ll come home and we’ll go see Dr. Franklin.” 

“No...” she winced as the bile lingered in her raw throat. “You have the board member meeting today...” 

“So you’re more important than that!” he protested sharply. 

She let her body shudder in agony before her forehead once again fell over the seats rim. “I love you for that baby I do but I’ll just have mom take me okay?” she whined weakly as her stomach once again began to burn. 

She heard his gruff, “I’d rather be with you,” through the closed, thin door. She smiled slightly and called out, “I’d rather be with you too...” 

She could hear his smile when he quickly replied, “I’ll call you around 2 for an update baby...” 

“I’ll make sure the phones not on vibrate,” she replied before she heard his footsteps along their homes grey laminate floors. 

“I love you,” he called out quickly before he knew she’d no longer be in earshot. 

She screamed back, “I love you too,” before she let herself fall backwards into the comforting embrace of the cool, bathroom tiles. Her body’s tensed muscles eased the moment her spine felt the cold air from the ceiling vents brushing over her heated skin. She placed her hands over her stomach and growled towards the offending body part, “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

Her stomach burped and gurgled but did nothing more in reply. She scoffed emptily and crossed her legs while her back remained on the floor. She heard the drip from the bathroom sink, she heard her downstairs neighbor’s blaring stereo system through the floors, and she even felt the vibration from the loud beat as she wondered aloud, “Could this be more than the flu?” 

She gave herself a mental quiz...which ended up being her wondering aloud to the bathroom walls. “Okay so when did we have unprotected sex?” she first thought as the music below her back continued to beat pleasantly along her elongated spine. Her first thought of course was the shower but that was more than six weeks ago and she’d only been feeling unwell for the past three days. She clicked her tongue along her lower teeth and drew a calendar along her stomach. Her cycle tended to be a bit irregular so she normally never really thought about when it started she just always knew that it did. 

She laughed to herself when she recalled the last time she’d felt like this...

It was about three days after the snow storm. Oliver’s fingers were tangled in her hair as she felt her slender body heave violently. He placed his free hand over her shoulders and whispered through her gnarled cries, “You know this is really not sexy...” 

She hiccupped in humor, “Really? You don’t find the sight of your best friend’s vomit to be an instant turn on?” 

He held his breath, “Ummm no...” he joked in his very nasal tone while she crinkled her disgusted nose. 

“Well you wanted a relationship,” she noted as he gently pulled her back and onto his lap. She curled into his chest with her face pointed outward while he put his chin over the crown of her head. His arms were anchored around her waist as he placed a timid kiss to her head. 

 “So you’re still just my best friend huh?” 

“What title would you prefer Oliver?” she groaned in mild if not faked annoyance. 

She felt his fingers pinching along her sides as his throaty laughs echoed through her tired body. “I was thinking girlfriend if that isn’t too much to ask...” 

Felicity bit at her lower lip in contemplation. “Well I’m a girl and I’m your friend...” she thought aloud. 

Oliver mused quietly, “And you’re the love of my life who I recently had sex with...” 

She elbowed him gently which still made him wince, “Ow...” while she breathed, “Do we really have to put a label on it this soon? Can’t I have like a trail period where I get to explore the item before I decide if I want to buy it?” 

“I feel like a set of steak knives Felicity,” he choked before kissing her hair gently. 

She couldn’t help the giggle that raced through her body, “I would have gone with dildo but hey I guess knives work too...” 

That remark led to his fingers trailing along her aching sides until her muscles cramped. He tickled her until they were both on their sides with her back still pressed firmly to his front. He laughed happily, “Seriously baby what do you want?” 

She laced their fingers then brought them to her stomach until their hands overlapped, “I want to be us, just you and me is that okay?” 

He nuzzled at the nape of her neck then breathed, “Yeah baby we can just be Oliver and Felicity...” 

She smiled slightly as her stomach finally began to settle. “You know I’m surprised you haven’t asked me...” she realized as they each fell into their unique rhythm of enjoyable silence. 

“Asked you what?” he mumbled against her skin. 

She placed her forehead along his bicep and sighed, “Well we had unprotected sex and now I’m sick so...” 

His nose nuzzled along the small hairs of her neck, “Please if you were pregnant I’d be the last to know,” he commented simply. 

She nodded in agreement, “Yeah that would trigger some issues for me...” 

“Exactly and anyways if you were pregnant I doubt you’d have morning sickness three days later...” 

Felicity wanted to smack her forehead when she realized how blind she’d been once the memory ended. She glanced around the black and white bathroom with brushed chrome finishing’s and groaned, “How the hell did I let this happen...” then promptly leaned upward and left the comfort of her floor and searched for her phone.

The hospital gown felt stiff, uncomfortable, and frankly itched as it lingered over tingling skin. “Relax Felicity, I’m almost done...” Dr. Franklin barked lowly as Felicity’s toes curled. 

“Well I’m sorry but I hate this damn gown, and frankly having your head between my legs is not exactly ideal!”

Rita bit back a laugh but still her words were said in great humor, “Well you can ease those toes sweetie I’m all done.” 

Felicity released her held breathes as the metal contraption of evil slid down her cervix and back towards the room’s cold air. Her body shuddered a bit when the instrument finally was freed. Her fingers tapped out what she swore was Morse code as she quickly tilted up her head. Rita’s kind, wrinkled smile appeared moments later as she slowly stood. “Well?” Felicity gulped, “Is it a cyst like I thought?”  

Rita had her first glove off and was working on the second one when she smiled, “No it’s the option you’re not willing to vocalize.” 

Felicity’s head fell back over the rigid pillow in defeat, “How far along am I?” she nearly cried as her hopes for something far less devastating were dashed.

Rita reached for her trembling hands and slowly grazed her thumb over her white knuckles. “About six weeks I’d guess,” she soothed. 

Her stomach plunged to her toes while Rita continued to gently stroke her hands. “Sweetie pregnancy doesn’t have to mean death,” she offered knowing Felicity’s history better than most. 

She nodded while her eyes filled with unshed tears, “Yeah that’s what the father will say when I finally find the courage to tell him.” 

Rita patted her hands gently once more then said, “Well now that we’ve confirmed your symptoms are due to a baby and not a cyst would you be willing let us take a picture of your little tyke?” 

“Can’t you just say sonogram?” Felicity pleaded with emptiness filling her crumbling soul. 

“Do you want Moira to be here?” Rita breathed as she prepared to stand. 

Felicity’s eyes flicked to the small machine before they flickered to the bottle of gel, “He deserves to know first but...” she chewed on her lips as always and internally debated her options. While Oliver deserved to be first person told he wouldn’t forgive her if she didn’t ask for help when she clearly was emotionally distressed. She felt the bile rising to her throat while she remained in her uncomfortable supine position. Rita was already lifting up a section of the gown to expose her still taut abdomen. She hesitated for another second before muttering, “I need my mom.” 

Rita smiled sadly then replied, “I’ll have her brought back okay?” 

Felicity nodded relived while her heart clenched in despair. Rita pressed the intercom as Felicity’s mind wandered to the moment her world truly changed...

The room was cold that much she remembered clearly. The bright iridescent bulbs burned her small eyes as a pair of strong hands dragged her through the hospitals off white halls. She blinked rapidly as her small five year old legs struggled to keep pace with the older paramedic’s stride. She hiccupped in fear when the man came to a grinding stop. “Where’s my mommy and daddy? Where’s my baby brother?” 

His blue eyes she later came to find were the reason that Oliver’s own always made her feel safe. His small lips curved sadly while he folded his tall, angular frame until he was crouched over his large feet. Felicity blinked away another stray tear as the man’s hand began to shake. She sniffed, “What’s wrong?” 

Those blue eyes slid closed while he sighed, “Something happened when they tried to deliver your baby brother...” 

His touch felt foreign, cold and frightening as she croaked, “I want my mommy...” 

The kind stranger tired to say something more in comfort but all he could say before a loud scream filled the waiting room was, “Sometimes things go wrong...” 

After that she saw the familiar sight of her father’s business partner and long time friend Robert Queen. Behind him was the source of the pained scream...behind him was his wife Moira. Felicity peered over the stranger’s shoulder as he too glanced towards the disturbance. He whispered, “Do you know them?” 

Felicity cocked her small head and narrowed her blurry eyes. The paramedic glanced over her tired face and smirked when he asked, “You normally wear glasses don’t you sweetie?” 

She bobbed her small head, “Yes but I was tired so mommy put them in her purse while I took a nap.” 

He grinned, “You’ve awfully smart for your age aren’t you?” 

Felicity shrugged her small shoulders and mumbled, “I guess so...” as the screaming woman approached. Her heels clacked along the cold, white floors like ice as it rained down over a metal roof. Her caramel voice melted through the tender moment as she scolded the kind stranger for his actions. 

“I pray you’ve left the details to my husband and I Mr....” 

She had to squint to read the faded print of his name tag. Felicity being closer gathered her wits the said, “Owen...his name is Owen Mrs. Queen.” 

Moira’s icy eyes immediately melted as they drifted from Owen’s face and down to Felicity. Her skin glowed as she smiled sadly. “Angel would you mind giving me a moment with Owen?” 

Felicity glanced between the two and shivered. “Mrs. Queen is my mommy okay?” 

She bowed her head and whispered slowly, “Sweetie how much do you remember from the accident?” 

Felicity remembered nothing other than how it felt when she was shaken awake by her mother’s awful sounding screams. She squared her small shoulders and grimaced when she admitted, “I just remember her screams...” 

Moira’s eyes fell in shame. Owen patted her small shoulder then spoke sternly towards the older woman, “She was found between them. Her father we suspect died on impact when the metal frame crushed his bones. Her mother was found with a weak pulse and the girl curled in her lap.” 

Moira’s cold voice snapped at the man’s insensitive approach, “You couldn’t wait until she was in another room!” 

Felicity’s small voice felt even smaller when she whimpered, “Please where’s my mommy?” 

Moira fell to the floor, scuffing her shoes and destroying the knees of her hose. She cupped Felicity’s small cheeks with warm comforting hands and brushed her thumbs over her tear stained cheeks. Owen kept his hand over her small shoulders while Moira’s lips quivered through the painful truth. “Tonight while you were coming to the hospital something bad happened.” 

Felicity nodded with the innocence of a child. Moira continued with tears streaming down her own narrow face. Felicity could see small flecks of black as the lines of her own tears marred her otherwise perfect face. “Your car was hit by another driver...” she nearly sobbed as Felicity caught Robert’s grief stricken face lingering just behind her. His usually bright eyes looked pale and forlorn as he slowly fell to his own knees upon the hospital floor. He placed a cold hand on Moira’s shoulder and whispered to her ear, “They didn’t make it. The strain of pregnancy was too much...they’re gone...”

Moira’s controlled sobs changed into a blood curling wail as she drew Felicity tightly into her trembling arms. She moved willing into the awkward embrace, her cheek fell upon her coat’s collar as the older woman murmured, “It’s going to be okay Felicity, It’s going to be okay...”   

“Hey Angel you still with me?” she heard her adoptive mother ask as she placed a tender kiss to her furrowed brow. 

Moira slid her fingers through Felicity’s as her other traced along her damp cheek. She smiled and brushed her thumb over a falling tear. “You know the baby didn’t kill her sweetie the car accident did...” she soothed as Felicity nodded in fear. 

“She had a complication that’s why the baby was six weeks early...” Felicity wept as Moira squeezed her shaking hand. 

Rita I just need a quick minute is that alright?” she asked without ever averting a gaze from Felicity’s terrified eyes. 

“Of course Mrs. Queen I’ll just make sure the equipment is calibrated,” she answered before the door behind them clicked closed. 

Moira’s chest faltered as she swept a piece of hair behind her ear. Felicity leaned into her touch as she spoke, “You’re afraid that he’ll die the same way your father did aren’t you?”

Felicity felt shame as she croaked out a pathetic, “My father died protecting his children and, Oliver wouldn’t hesitate to do the same...” Her chest began to ache as her selfish fears poured forth. “It was bad enough when I fell for him...” 

Moira smiled, “I’m going to selfishly disagree since that for me was a very blessed day,” she murmured as her eyes softly fell. 

Felicity’s eyes rolled, “You don’t understand, I can’t lose him Moira, I can’t face the idea of living from day to day in a world where he doesn’t exist.” 

“I’m practically your mother so let’s drop the Moira and secondly Angel loving him is what saved you hell it’s what saved him...” Felicity saw the wheels turning in her mind so she saved her the effort and admitted with shame...

“I never intended to give him a child because I knew in the end it would destroy us both.” 

Moira’s lips pursed in empathy not disgust. “That’s why you tried to keep your relationship platonic I assume?” 

Felicity digested the question then mumbled, “Yes...” 

“And when he pushed you into admitting your feelings I’m betting you put up another internal wall?

Again Felicity mumbled, “Yeah and look where my “emotions” left me.” 

Moira leaned forward until her lips were at Felicity’s ear. She whispered in a snippy tone, “That’s what condoms and birth control are for sweetie.” 

Felicity gulped as Moira placed her forehead over hers. “You’re saying that subconsciously I wanted a child aren’t you?” 

She felt the older woman’s smile grow as her nose crinkled, “You’re too smart to leave anything up to fate angel, you always were.” 

Felicity groaned, “Apparently this time I did...” 

Moira laughed, “No you didn’t Felicity. You’re ready for more but you’re just unable or unwilling to admit it.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” she scowled. 

Moira pushed further, “Then say it, tell me why didn’t want to love him from day one?” 

Felicity felt the confidence in her voice, she felt the determination in her eyes and she felt the empathy in her touch. Moira was pushing her to break down another wall the only problem was Felicity didn’t want to crumble for anyone but Oliver. 

“I didn’t want to love him because...” Felicity started just to end the verbal brawl as Moira held her hand tightly. Felicity felt her chest stammering as her heart fluttered. The moment felt wrong, the timing was off and the forehead that should be there wasn’t. Her words felt cold and dis-joined as they left her numb tongue but still she managed a weak but somewhat honest declaration through her muted tone, “I didn’t want another grave taking up residence in my shattered heart.” 

Moira pushed lightly, “And why don’t you want a baby?” 

Felicity’s entire body shuddered. This wasn’t meant for her it was meant for Oliver. Her truth, her words, her fears all of those moments were meant to be shared with him as he held her in his loving arms. She stammered and groaned as her mind searched for the words to end the conflict. “I don’t want him dying because of them...” she offered weakly but Moira knew better. 

She pushed back with harsh words, “Don’t be the selfish brat that broke my son’s heart, be the person he deserves instead of the weakling who nearly let him marry the wrong woman...” 

Felicity croaked, “They were never close to that and you know it...” 

“Still you almost let him go and I want to know why? Why are you really afraid of having a baby with the man who’d give his life just to see you smile?” she probed as their foreheads remained connected. 

Felicity stammered, “Please don’t make me say this...” 

Moira pushed back, “I won’t but only if you promise to tell him...” 

Felicity’s eyes slammed shut, “He’ll never understand...” she whimpered almost uncontrollably. 

Moira insisted once more before she pulled away, “He knows about that day sweetie he’ll understand why you’re afraid...” 

Her chest heaved as she spoke, “Moira…mom it’s not the simple.” 

She nodded in empathy, “I know but something inside of you is still broken from that day...” 

Felicity nodded grimly, “He won’t understand why I didn’t tell him, he won’t understand why I lied...” she breathed as something inside her heart finally began to heal. “He doesn’t know that she almost died while giving birth to me, he just thinks it’s about my brother he doesn’t know how far it really goes...” she admitted in one large painful breath. 

“He’ll ask you to marry him Felicity...he’ll push for more if you don’t give him the truth willingly,” she murmured just as Rita knocked on the door. 

Felicity looked up at her adoptive mother and cried softly, “The problem with that is I want to marry him...” 

Moira’s tears fell, “You can’t marry him if he doesn’t know sweetie, he has to understand he could lose you...” 

She gulped heavily, “I’m going to end up pushing him away.” 

Moira croaked, “He’ll just push harder...” 

Felicity simply sighed, “Yeah until I break his heart...” 

She leaned her aching forehead over the numbers upon their front door. She savored the cold of the bronze metal and yearned for the courage to face what she know was waiting beyond the threshold. Her eyes burned then her vision blurred as she swallowed a strangled cry. The sonogram picture was crinkled between her fingers, their child’s image was in her hands and all she could do was struggle with the urge to scream. 

The ground below her vibrated, the beat seemed to permeate through the soles of her shoes as she swallowed a gnarled plea, “Please don’t let me screw this up...” she begged lowly. “Please let me heal...” she prayed as her free hand flew to her stomach, “Please let this child be born...” she wept before she stowed the picture in her coat pocket and solemnly reached for the door. 

The darkness engulfed her willing as she stepped slowly inside the stillness of the empty room. She flicked the switch by the door and dropped the keys into the ceramic bowl on the kitchen counter. She stood there frozen. Her bones felt like concrete had filled the hallow spaces. She lumbered forward, she felt the cool, marbled, grey colored granite beneath her trembling fingers. She squinted her eyes when she saw a broad set of shoulders lightly heave. She leaned her hip along the counter top’s beveled edge and roughly cleared her clogged throat, “Most people turn the lights on when it gets dark outside...” She kept her tone light and even as her mask fell swiftly into place. 

She saw the slope of his shoulder heave as his head fell. She managed to drag herself to a chair along the island; she even managed to pull the dark colored wood outward but stopped when he mumbled almost deadly, “Mom called me after your appointment...” 

Her nimble fingers curled over the chairs back, “How much do you know...” she spat angrily as she started slumping to the cold floor. 

“Let’s not blame her shall we...” he growled with his back still slumped against the back of their off grey colored sectional. 

Felicity rolled her eyes swiftly while allowing her body to fall back against the white paneling of the islands cabinets. “Why not? It’s her fault we even met to begin with so it makes complete sense to me...” 

She heard him roll his broad shoulders and even cringed when his elbows landed on his stiff knees. “Don’t Felicity, just don’t I’m not going to rip apart our history just so you can avoid telling me the truth,” he replied coldly with no regard to her fragile state of mind. 

It was then she knew that Moira had said nothing. She huffed in agreement, “Fine so what do you want?” 

“Felicity,” he sighed painfully. 

She proceeded to crack her neck, he in turn groaned as she smiled with glee, “What baby still hate that habit?” 

He inched off the couch and maneuvered around the table by the sectional. The light from the city below lit his face in an array of conflicting shadows as he moved along the living room rug. Felicity watched him gingerly walk the floor as she sought to control her rattled nerves by rubbing her fingers along her coat covered upper arms. 

He glanced toward her and breathed with strain lacing his throat, “Just tell me is it what you thought?” 

She bowed her head and bit her lip, “That depends on how you look at it I suppose,” she cowered in shame. 

He dragged his palm down his chiseled face and sighed, “Cut the crap Felicity and just tell me what to expect.” 

She shrugged lamely, “I don’t know what would you expect from someone whose six weeks pregnant?” 

She heard him place his dress shoes on the grey floors. He shuffled forward nervously while mumbling, “We’re having a baby?” 

She glanced up sarcastically, “Yeah and guess what I’m not elated.” 

He froze about three feet from her seated form. She noticed his left hand was dancing about nervously in the left pocket of his trousers. She cocked an eyebrow and swallowed a painful laugh before muttering, “You’ve got to be kidding me...” 

He shrugged, “It’s the logical next step?” 

“How? You thought I had the stomach flu! How is marriage the next logical step!” she shouted in confusion. 

His tone weakened, “Well mom said the news was life altering and I figured it might lessen the blow if you knew that no matter what I was with you...” 

Her body began to crumple. The mask she’d managed to hold was fading as the weight of her unsaid confession weighed heavily on her soul. The tears she’d managed to swallow now were creeping along the ducts of her eyes. Her fingertips felt bruised as she rubbed them raw along the fabric of her coat. He stood proudly with the ghost of a smile as she finally felt her emotions give way. 

“You’re not asking me to marry you?” she squeaked from the floor of their shared home.

Oliver in an uncharacteristic move fell to his knees and wept openly, “Yeah baby I am…”

She gazed at him with tear filled eyes; “You wouldn’t be if I wasn’t pregnant…” she tried with a stammering heart. 

Oliver shook his head ruefully then placed the ring box on the ground between them, “When will you believe you mean everything to me?” he nearly cried with anger fueling his strangled words. 

She sputtered as her palm flew to her stomach, “When I believe that you only loved me…”

He glanced at her with confusion literally dripping from his mournful eyes. “That I only loved you?” he garbled as she watched in interest. 

Her plan was simple. It was calculated but simple; she was simply going to convince him that she feared he’d love their child more than he did her. He’d be disgusted and if she was lucky he’d leave her in a fit of rage. If this worked and the pregnancy ended up killing her then at least he’d be spared the pain of mourning his wife...Her plan was simple but, something inside her felt strange. She chewed at her lip and hid the small ghost of a frown over her full lips; her stomach ached as again something inside her twisted not with guilt but oddly with anger…She shrugged off the strange feeling and remembered her silent vow…

She told Moira in Dr. Franklin’s office that she was going to break his heart and dammit she intended to but, what she’d forgotten to foresee was what she’d always failed to see...

Oliver wasn’t going to let her self-destruct...even if it meant he did in the process. 

He folded his hands over his lap and scrunched his adorable forehead. Felicity despite her thoughts smiled at his adorable grin. He however glowered when her words finally clicked into horrifying place. “You know you had me,” he declared. 

She splayed her hand over her stomach and gulped, “Had you?” she purred innocently. 

He smirked but it wasn’t the one that indicated she was about to made a very happy woman, no this smirk was to indicate she’d been caught. “Yes Felicity,” he seethed, “Had me, you almost had me until I saw where your hand was positioned...” 

Her ashamed eyes fell as she muttered quietly, “I was trying to spare you...” 

He huffed angrily, “When will you get it through your thick head I’m not leaving you, I’m not quitting us, I’m not abandoning you, and I’m fucking in love with you!” 

She shouted back with downcast eyes, “YEAH WELL I FUCKING LOVE YOU AND THAT’S WHY I WANTED TO SPARE YOU!” 

He growled darkly, “And what making me believe that you were selfish enough to hate me for loving our child was your plan? I mean honestly Felicity what did you think I’d do? Were you going to tell that because your father died saving you, you were afraid of losing me the same way? Did you really want me to just walk away and leave you?” 

She glared then seethed bitterly, “What gave it away?” 

Her comment caught him off guard, she smirked in happiness as he shook his rattled head, “Again only loved me was a bit telling given you’re pregnant.” 

“Shit,” she moaned bitterly. “I knew that was the wrong word,” she groaned as she eyed the small box before her. “Mom’s wedding set I assume?” she asked defeated. 

He laughed lowly, “Yes and stop avoiding the fight. You were going to what tell me that because your father died saving you, you were afraid to lose me the same way right?”

She mumbled lowly, “It was a thought yes…”

He nearly cracked his jaw when he growled, “You had a backup plan I know you…” Her eyes slipped shut while he groaned through her possible list…”Let me guess you were going to end this pregnancy because of your mother’s second pregnancy? Or even better...” he continued on as she sat there and quietly stewed. “You weren’t going to tell me at all; you were going to simply leave before you started to show?” 

“Well I put more thought into the plan than that but, yes I was going to put up another...” 

“Wall...” he interrupted glumly. 

She glared then gulped, “Yes, I was going to put up another wall and convince you that I couldn’t be with someone who loved our child more than me.” 

He mumbled in disgust, “You’re sick you know that?” 

She bowed her head and lightly patted her stomach, “No I’m scared and guess what fear makes me do foolish things,” she said weakly to aid her defense. 

“Trying to convince me that you’d despise me for loving our child is pretty low even for you...” he groaned as he began to move backward along his knees. 

She nodded in horrified agreement, “I’m not too happy about my choice either but the truth is worse.” 

His retreating form froze, “How is that even possible?” he asked in what could only be described as terror. 

She looked up with freshly fallen tears and mumbled, “Because based on my medical history both the baby and I could die.” 

Oliver’s eyes fell so she kept going while her hand remained firmly over her stomach. “Do you remember when I was around fourteen?” 

He nodded then mumbled gravely, “You were sick for about a month. Mom wouldn’t let me or even Thea see you, she alone tended to you. Well she and Dr. Franklin...” 

She saw him breathe heavily; his body seemed to retract inwards as he brought his palms to his elbows. Felicity swallowed a tender cry of remorse before continuing slowly with empathy brimming in her voice. “Apparently I had an ovarian cyst; which terrified me because when my mother was pregnant with me she had one that ruptured...” She felt the tears falling freely down not only her face but she somehow could feel his as well. 

He breathed, “That’s why you were going to the hospital that night...” 

She nodded, “She’d been sick for a few days. She was being monitored because of what happened with me. They delivered me via C-section after the cyst ruptured. She barely survived the procedure and I was trapped in the ICU for almost a month because I was about 5 weeks early.” 

“That’s why you had glasses at such a young age right?” he mumbled as he gradually moved closer. She could feel his soul breaking before her as he pushed the ring box across the floor and towards her feet. 

She again nodded and reached for the token. “Yeah...” she murmured as she folded her fingers around the box’s hard edges. 

“Your brother was the same?” he asked a bit awkwardly. 

She smiled sadly, “He would have been had it not been for the accident...” She felt his knees bumping along her feet. She gazed at his handsome face and finally lifted her hand from her stomach. She saw her fingers tremble as she inched her way towards his titled jaw. She gasped when he reached forward grabbing her hand and twisted her wrist until his lips were at the center of her palm. 

He croaked through the tears in his throat, “You didn’t want me to lose both you and our child...that’s why you did all of this...” he suddenly realized.  

He kissed her skin tenderly once more before he moved his hand to her fallen chin. She in turn cupped his cheek as they each leaned inward. The moment their foreheads touched she immediately found home. “I’m so sorry but I’m just so fucking scared to be without you...” she sobbed almost instantly. 

He chuckled lowly, “Well I’d say the feelings mutual but based on your actions you sorta knew that.”

She smiled before her lips fell back into small frown, “I swore I’d never put you through this…I swore but now that I’ve seen him or her I can’t lie and say I’m not overjoyed…”

He croaked, “I don’t have the words to describe what I’m feeling but dammit honey this has got to stop…”

She mumbled contritely, “I know baby, believe I know…”

He murmured against her lips, “Why didn’t you tell me about your mother? Why didn’t tell me that’s what you were afraid of?” 

She mumbled incoherently, “I was so young when it happened and I didn’t realize that I could have the same condition, and then when I fell for you it got really complicated. So I put up about a thousand walls figuring you’d never be dumb enough to tear them all down but, then you did and like an idiot I started wanting you to.” 

Their lips brushed endlessly as she spoke, his reply to her endless words made her stomach flutter with hope. “Then why not just bring them down yourself? Why did it take me years of groveling for you to realize you’re it for me?”

She let him kiss her soundly with more tenderness then she deserved before her words fell freely from her bruised lips, “By the age of five I’d learned two very painful lessons, one love kills and two living without love is damn near impossible.”

He whispered against the corner of her mouth, “Then why the hell did you fight me?”

She inhaled deeply then pressed her fingers gently over his skin. His head tilted into her shaky touch as she exhaled over his tingling skin, “Because I can’t live in a world where you don’t love me and, letting you in meant you’d have to love all of me…”

He pulled away just enough so she could see his heart in those perfect eyes. “Then tell me you’ll marry me,” he murmured. “Tell me you’ll spend the rest of your life with me as we both work on eradicating those damn walls of yours.”  

She starred into those endless blue eyes and marveled at his capacity for forgiveness. She mumbled along his bottom lip as their fingers traced along the other’s skin feverishly, “How can you still want to marry me?” she questioned briefly. 

He pressed a very timid kiss to her slightly parted lips. She felt his tongue skimming along her bottom lip as he muttered, “I’d be lost without you so I understand the twisted logic...” 

She kissed him tenderly, “Can you ever forgive me?” she asked once they parted. 

His nose rubbed along her own as they remained connected by their foreheads. “As I already said this has to stop honey. You can’t keep running from me Felicity. I can’t keep losing us because you’re afraid I’ll leave, I can’t keep fighting for us alone with one hand tied behind my back,” he pleaded endlessly as the box once more fell at her feet. 

She glanced down at the unopened square then glanced back to his eyes. She licked her lips as he brushed his own over them. She smiled into the deepening kiss as he pulled her closer. She parted her legs and pulled herself over his lap. Her knees rested along the floors with his hips burning the skin that touched them. She murmured as his fingers became twisted in her hair, “Then yes…”

Oliver’s heart stopped and for the first time she felt the skipped beat. She timidly placed her palm over his thudding chest and whispered lowly, “I felt that...” 

He bypassed the statement for a moment and uttered, “You said yes?”

She giggled, “Yeah I said yes, why wouldn’t I?”

He nearly choked in shock, “Would you like to go through out tortured history?”

“No,” she mumbled as his heart jumped again. Her eyes flared when she muttered, “It happened again…”

“What did?” he asked quickly.

“Your heart, it literally just skipped another beat and somehow I felt it,” she croaked emotionally with a feeling of solace racing through her once nervous veins.

His eyes blazed, “How?” he murmured before their lips touched. 

She shrugged then realized as their lips brushed, “It’s because I’m finally ready to stop running…” Moments later her timid tongue was softly touching his. 

His moaned, “So we’re going to be a family?” raced through down the smooth muscles of her throat before they edged their way firmly into her steadily beating heart.

She smiled once more as her whisper was engulfed by the first of many endless kisses, “Yeah because we already are...” 

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