AN: This was sorta supposed to be a drabble... Whoops.
Inspired by when I took a shower, forgetting to take my mascara off, and got out, seeing that I looked like I was crying/suddenly turned into a raccoon.
This fic kind of annoyed me because every time I typed "Oliver" it wanted to change it into "OLIVER." And I was just like... Olicity intensified.
Enjoy!
(Disclaimer: Oliver and Felicity and the show "Arrow" in general doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the CW and DC Comics respectably. Oh, and I also don't own "Avengers," but I do ship Clintasha :D)
I, Felicity Smoak, am having a sufficiently shitty day, and I'm not sure what god or higher being I pissed off to make it that way.
I thought it was just going to be a normal day; I'd go to Queen Consolidated and do a little secretary-action for Oliver (though, it's not much action). Then, I'd stop by the foundry and check for any criminal activity for the Arrow to stomp out. Finally, I'd get to go home and settle down with a good book or a movie.
But noooooo! Fate had another thing planned for me.
To start off my day, I woke up late because my stupid alarm clock didn't go off. So, I had to rush to get dressed, put on my signature bright lipstick and black mascara and drive to work. Well, my day job.
After I had to skip breakfast and coffee, I got in the car and had to sit through horrendous traffic.
Arriving late to QC, I practically ran up the steps (the elevator was out of order) and into my office, waving a quick hello to Mr. Boss Man (Ollie), who gave me a VERY confused look, and sitting in my chair.
When I went to boot up my computer, I accidentally knocked over day-old coffee and it pooled into the monitor.
I screamed as sparks flew. I pushed my chair back quickly, but it got caught on some invisible force that just had to ruin me by being there. Therefore, my swively chair tipped backwards and I fell to the ground with a resounding "Oof."
Oliver, being the concerned friend that he was, got up and ran out to me, helping me up.
I mumbled an embarrassed "Thanks," before sending him back to his office (I actually had to tell him multiple times that I was perfectly fine) and calling a guy to come take away my computer.
The Queen family wasn't exactly lacking in the money department, so the computer was easily replaced and re-uploaded with all my old files and other data.
So, yeah. It pretty much continued on like that for the entirety of the day with a little tripping in high heels here, sitting through boring-ass meetings there.
Luckily, I only had to stop by the foundry for a little bit because the bad guys seemed to be on the DL (that's Down Low, for all those who aren't as cool as me).
After hearing about all that, it should come as no surprise to you that as soon as I got to my apartment and opened the door, I dropped my things on the ground and headed for my bathroom.
I had a pretty sweet set up, so there was one bathroom down a hallway, but the main one - with a shower and everything - was connected to my room.
I wiped off my lipstick, peeled off my clothes, set my glasses on my dresser, and stepped into the warm water. It was the perfect temperature.
When I was done doing all I needed to in the heavenly haven of water, I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel.
Walking out into my room, I quickly threw on my favorite pair of pj's - my green short-shorts and my grey tank top with a Green Lantern symbol over the chest and stomach area (I swear, they are the most soft things in the world) - and my glasses.
Deciding to have a little fun to balance out my day, I plugged in my iPod and pressed play. Turning it way up so I could still hear the music, I then walked into my bathroom to dry off my hair.
Looking in the mirror, I noticed that I forgot to take off my mascara. I shrugged, telling myself I'd fix it in the morning because (thank god) it was Friday and (thank god) Oliver gave me Saturdays off in the office. Obviously, I still had Arrow-duty, but it meant that I could sleep in.
I then proceeded to dry my hair, shake my booty to the music, and sing along (it probably sounded horrible) at the top of my lungs to my favorite tunes.
After being satisfied with how my hair looked, I walked back out to my room and turned off the music. The living room area of my apartment was where I went next.
The kitchen was sort of attached to it, so I didn't have to go far when I picked a movie - "Avengers," one of my favorites (I totally ship Clintasha, by the by) - and put it in, getting up to go make popcorn.
It took about 5 minutes for the popping to stop and the timer to go off. Carefully plucking the bag from the microwave, I pulled out a big bowl and dumped the contents of the bag into it.
Throwing away the bag, I picked up the bowl and walked over to the couch. I set the bowl down on the coffee table, picked up the remote, and sat down, getting as comfy as I possibly could.
Just as I was about to hit play, there was a knock at my door.
"Uuuugh, what is it now?" I whined to myself.
Groaning, I got up off the couch and set the remote down before walking over to the door.
Throwing it open, I immediately said "What do you want?" in immense annoyance. I mean come on! Who would interrupt someone at this hour? It was probably only 7:00 (it was kind of dark out), but you get my point.
I was met with a raised eyebrow. "Nice to see you, too, Felicity," he said.
I froze, eyes widening. "Oliver," I squeaked. Oh god. "I'm so sorry! I've just sort of had a shitty day and I was just about to watch a movie and eat some popcorn - which I forgot to put butter and salt on, whoops - and then you knocked on the door and-"
He gave a small, soft smile and laughed lightly. "It's alright, Felicity," he stopped me, placing his hands on my shoulders.
I sent him a grateful smile and stepped aside for him to come in. It was always cold in the hallway during winter time. He was wearing a sweatshirt, so I assumed it was still cold out.
He did so, and I closed the door quietly behind him.
When he turned to face me, the smile that was on his face dropped and his brow furrowed.
Uh oh. What did I do? What's wrong?
"Have you been... Crying?" he asked hesitantly, concern filling his voice.
It was my turn for my brow to furrow. What the hell was he talking about? Of course I haven't been-
Oh. Oh. Shit... I forgot I had messed up mascara. My eyes widened. Shit, shit, shit! I probably looked like a freaking raccoon! Oh, god. Why me?
My eyes were still wide as my mouth opened to explain myself.
But, before I could say anything and I guess taking my eyes widening as me saying "yes," Oliver's worry turned to anger.
"What happened? Did it happen today? Was it a man? Was it a target? Are you hurt?" he rapid-fire questioned me, getting closer and closer with each one.
"Oliver!" I shouted, stopping him. "I'm perfectly fine! I was not crying. I just took a shower and forgot to take off my mascara, so it ran down my face," I explained.
"Oh," he responded sheepishly.
"I appreciate your concern, though," I added softly, smiling.
He smiled lightly, our eyes meeting. Gosh, his were so... Blue. It was gorgeous. No. Stop it Felicity. Bad Felicity.
"So, what brings you around here?" I asked, half curious and half to hide when I broke the eye contact when it got really intense.
He sighed quietly. "Well, after what happened today, I just came to make sure you didn't hurt yourself," he answered, smirking but somehow also looking concerned.
"Yeeeah... Today was definitely not one of my better days," I said, nodding.
Oliver chuckled. "You think?"
"Heh heh...," I laughed awkwardly, pushing my glasses up my nose.
We just sorta stood there for a few seconds, looking at each other. A soft, caring smile was on his face, a (what I can only assume as) matching smile on mine.
"Well, I should probably go clean off my face," I started, breaking the moment. It's sort of what I do. He nodded in acknowledgement. "I'll... Be right back," I assured him, scampering off to my bedroom.
Just now realizing which pajamas I was wearing, I face palmed. Oh, well. Oliver was a good guy. He wouldn't do anything that's against my wishes.
Finishing up by wiping my raccoon-eyes off, I walked back out to where Ollie was standing.
"Ta-da!" I said dorkily. Oh, gosh. Why do I keep doing this to myself in front of an attractive man?
Oliver laughed. "Well done, Felicity."
I smiled at him, remembering the time he called me remarkable and was proud of what I could do. My heart fluttered. Ugh, not this again.
"So, do you have any plans tonight?" I asked. Then, realizing it sorta sounded like I was asking him out on a date, my eyes widened. "Not that I'm asking because I don't have any plans and I'd like to go on a date with you, 'cause that'd be silly! That's not to say that I don't want to go on a date with you or anything, because you're generously attractive," I added quickly, wincing as I added more and more unnecessary words.
Oh, hell. Did I just call him "generously attractive"? God, what is wrong with me?
"It's fine, Felicity, I know what you meant," Oliver said, laughing. "I'm not doing anything in particular tonight, no," he then added, answering my question.
"Well, I popped 'Avengers' into my DVD player and made myself a huge bowl of popcorn that I probably won't be able to eat on my own. Would you like to join me?" I inquired shyly, somewhat hesitant and thinking that he probably wouldn't want to waste his night on me.
"I would love to," he replied genuinely, a bright smile lighting up his features.
"Sweet! Please, make yourself at home," I said happily, gesturing for him to sit on the couch.
He nodded and took off his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack next to my door.
It turns out that it is possible for Oliver to look more attractive. I mean... More adorable. Underneath his sweatshirt, he was wearing a semi-tight t-shirt. It was a nice contrast to his baggy sweatpants. I really like when guys wear stuff like that.
I turned my back and started walking towards the couch, reaching my hands far above my head to stretch. By the time I realized that my shirt lifted as well, Oliver had already turned around and headed for the couch as well.
Dammit. Oh well. I give up. He didn't seem to notice, anyway.
Oliver plopped down beside me and in that moment, I discovered just how small my couch really was. Our shoulders were gently touching.
I leaned forward to grab the remote. "Have you seen this movie before?" I asked, looking at him.
He looked back at me. "I haven't really had time since coming back from the island," he answered.
A bright smile lit up my features. Oo, this was going to be fun! "Awesome!"
We then turned back to the screen and I pressed play. I stood up so I could sit with my feet sort of under me and my knees off to the side. They were borderline in Oliver's lap.
I looked over and he just smiled and nodded, telling me non-verbally that it was okay.
I smiled back and got comfy, throwing a blanket over the two of us. I squirmed in excitement, glad to be the one he shares his first-time watching experience with.
Oliver glanced over at me when I squirmed and chuckled.
"Shh!" I said incredulously, lightly slapping his arm. The movie was about to begin.
He controlled himself to just an amused smirk.
As the movie went on, we became more and more pressed up against each other. I was also really beginning to get tired.
Experimentally, I rested my head on Oliver's shoulder. He quickly adjusted himself so that his arm was on the back of the couch. I had to scoot even closer to him, so my head was in the crook of his neck.
I sighed happily and continued watching the movie, jumping at the scary parts, laughing at the funny parts, tensing up at the dramatic parts, and - as much as I'm ashamed to admit to doing in Oliver's presence - crying at the sad parts (luckily there weren't that many).
By the time the ending credits rolled, I was way too exhausted to get up or even open my eyes. It was one of those times where you're still awake, but you just can't seem to keep your eyes open.
Oliver carefully untangled himself from me. My eyes fluttered open and I groaned, falling so I was lying on my back. They were still half-lidded.
"Why did you have to move? I was so comfy," I said, a tired pout on my face.
Oliver chuckled and shook his head. "Come on, time for bed, sleepyhead."
"That rhymed," I giggled. I was a little out of it at the time. Don't judge.
Deducing that I was I little too tired to walk, Oliver place one arm under my knees and one arm behind my back and lifted me up against his chest. It was so solid.
"Why thank you," Oliver said through his laughter. Oh shit. Did I seriously say that out loud?!
"Yes, you did," he responded.
Dammit!
I guess that was in my head, because he didn't respond. He proceeded to carry me to my bedroom and gently set me down on my big bed. (Looking back, I probably should have wondered how he knew where my bedroom was.)
He then pulled my comforter up over my shoulder and leaned down o place a kiss on my forehead.
In my sleep-haze, I barely registered when I reached forward to grab his wrist when he went to leave. "Stay with me," I said sleepily.
"I probably should be-" he started to protest.
"Please?" I pleaded softly.
I could see him pause, the gears in his head turning.
Finally, he sighed. "Alright."
I let my hand fall from his wrist as he moved to the other side of my bed. Lifting up the sheets, he crawled into my bed and rested his head on a pillow.
Aw, man, if someone told me a year ago that I'd be sleeping with Oliver Queen, I'd think they were out of their mind and inform them to immediately seek medical attention.
Well, I'm not actually sleeping with him sleeping with him, I'm just sleeping in the same bed as him.
Once again, because my brain was way too exhausted for any of this shit, I cuddled up into his side, resting my head in the crook of his neck when he moved his arm out of the way. One of my hands was tucked underneath me, and the other was on his chest.
Honestly, I have no clue what I was thinking just then.
Thank the heavens Oliver knew it was just my sleep-addled brain doing all this. He just chuckled.
"Thank you," I mumbled, almost inaudible, cuddling myself more into his side.
"Anytime, Felicity," he responded, leaning down and kissing my head.
Just as sleep started to claim me, I swear I heard him say... No, it couldn't have been. Was it? Nah, I was just overly exhausted and heard what I wanted to hear.
Wait. I wanted to hear that?
Do I love Oliver Queen?
AN: (Just in case you couldn't figure it out, Felicity thought she heard Oliver say "I love you.")
I might make a two-shot out of this, but I like where it stopped. Idk, still debating.
Anywho, I loved writing in Felicity's POV, though. It was fun.
Now, for my long list of "sorry"s:
• Sorry if they were too OOC.
• Sorry if I used the words "gently," "softly," and "lightly," too much. It's just that that's how I perceive the smiles he gives her in the show.
• Sorry if I went overboard on Felicity's rambles. I tried my best.
• Sorry for the excessive use of parenthesis. I figured since Felicity rambled out loud, she would also ramble in her head.
• Sorry for all the Italics, I thought that Felicity would be really passionate/enthusiastic about everything like that.
• Sorry for apologizing so much.