Prompt: "After you read horror stories you always crawl into my bed late at night, how many times have I told if you can't handle them then don't read them?"

Prompt found here: post/132221162054/book-and-writer-au

Note: College Roommate AU. Nothing groundbreaking, but the fandom doesn't seem to need any more drama than necessary ;)

The video alluded to in this story is completely made up! Hope you enjoy!

"Mmmph. Felicity, what? Again? Really?"

Oliver blinks sleepily, craning his neck to look down at her. His voice is rough, but she doesn't answer, just snuggles into his body, her arms squeezing him tightly. All he can see is a cloud of blond hair and her ice cold toes press against the bare skin of his shins.

"What was it this time?" he sighs, resigning himself to another night with the two of the crammed into his single bed. He reaches over her to flick on the lamp beside the bed, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow.

It's not the worst thing, because a small (okay - not so small) part of him does enjoy his roommate's tiny body curled up beside his, but he's told her a hundred times that if she can't handle them, don't read them. And she obviously never listens to him because Felicity Smoak is Her Own Person and doesn't need Oliver Queen telling her what to do.

"Clowns," she whispers against his chest. She shivers and he slings an arm across her, holding her snugly against him. "I hate clowns so much, Oliver."

He doesn't respond, holding back the laugh that's forming in his chest. "Oh?"

"They're so creepy, with those painted faces and the giant smiles. What are they so happy about? And the eyes. Their eyes are these dead, soul-sucking pits of doom. Doom. And then they start carrying around weapons and looming in dark corners with sinister smiles. They're all over the news, lurking around neighbourhoods and obviously freaking people out. It's not even like clowns don't really exist. They're real. And why do they never talk?"

Apparently now that's she's started, she's not going to shut up. And the last thing he wants to fall asleep with is images of sketchy-ass clowns dancing in his head.

"Ugh, stop." He tips his chin so he can see her face. "Felicity, how many times have I told you not to read this shit if you can't handle it?"

She pokes him sharply in the chest, eyes narrowed. "I can totally handle it, mister."

He draws back further to give her a disbelieving look.

"Okay," she relents. "So this time, maybe I couldn't-"

"This time?" he responds, raising an eyebrow. "This is not the only time you've snuck in here because you scared yourself."

"But the clowns, Oliver…"

"No. No more clowns!" he shouts. "No more. I'm trying to sleep."

"Are you afraid of clowns?"

"Definitely not," he immediately retorts, refusing to let images of those face-painted weirdos come to mind. As if he, Oliver Queen, would be afraid of a children's birthday party gimmick.

Felicity looks up at him through narrowed eyes, sizing him up for a moment before opening her mouth. "You are! You are totally afraid of clowns. Ha! I knew I'd find something that freaked you out if I read enough horror stories!" Her face brightens and she shoves away from him, as though the idea of Oliver being afraid of something is enough to chase away her own fears.

Oliver pushes himself into a seated position against the headboard and raises an eyebrow at her. "You've been reading these books and scaring yourself so badly that you can't even sleep alone just to find something that I find creepy? Felicity, you need to get a hobby."

"I have many hobbies," she exclaims, affronted. "But ever since you insisted that you aren't afraid of anything, I knew you were wrong. Everyone is afraid of something and you are no exception!" She crows to herself, grinning up at him proudly.

He can't believe that she's dedicated nearly a month of scaring herself shitless, just to crawl into his bed and whisper all of the creepy things that she read in hopes that something will stick with him. That is true dedication to what is a completely ridiculous goal, even for Felicity. And she had once dedicated herself to singing Maroon 5 at every karaoke bar in the city.

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not afraid of clowns."

She pouts. "Come on. You so are. Everyone is. They are creepy as shit, especially when they just lurk silently, and they grin all sinister-like, and then they slowly tilt their head…"

"Nah," he shakes his head. "Not afraid."

Felicity leaps out of bed so suddenly that he barely sees her move. He watches as she takes off out of the room and down the hallway, calling over her shoulder. "Wait there. Shout if you see anything with way too much face paint."

He huffs out a laugh. Felicity's mind moves faster than anybody he knows. Her actual body usually isn't as fast, but she's back before he knows it. He suspects that she ran the entire way, if the way she's panting as she gets back into his bed is any indication. Drawing the comforter up over herself, she settles in and then places her laptop on top.

"I'm going to show you a movie that is so fracking creepy you won't be able to deny that clowns are scary," she declares. "The ones in the story I read were pretty terrifying, but this is worse. I promise."

The laptop whirs to life and she gets started typing. He relaxes and lets his head rest on the headboard, stretching his legs out in front of him as he watches his roommate work. It's after midnight and he's tired, but she seems to have an unlimited supply of energy some days. He's often envious of the way she bounces through life, like a literal bouncy ball of sunshine.

She also tends to get so focused on what she's doing that she sometimes doesn't even remember that he's there.

After what feels like a ridiculously long time, he's getting antsy waiting for this so-called terrifying movie. He wonders if her nerves are still haywire after she scared herself silly in her own room. He drills a finger into her side and she lets out a bloodcurdling screech loud enough to wake the dead.

"OLIVER!" She whips her head around to glare at him, her chest pounding and her laptop cradled in her arms like precious cargo. "What the hell?"

"I'm bored, Felicity. Where is this 'terrifying' movie you're insisting on showing me?" He smirks at her as she licks her lips and takes a deep breath.

"Scaring me is not cool, buddy," she tells him wagging a finger in his face. "That is subpar best friend behaviour."

He shrugs, though he's not sorry at all. The sound she'd made had absolutely been worth it.

Returning to the computer, she clicks a couple more times. "All right, ready."

She settles the laptop at the end of the bed and turns off the light, then returns to snuggle into his side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

It's a normal thing for them when they watch movies, but it makes his heart race. Lately he can't seem to be near Felicity without feeling like a teenage boy trying to talk to his first crush. Luckily, she hasn't seemed to notice.

They move through a commercial that he doesn't care about. Turning his attention to the blonde at his side, he can barely see her in the dim lighting. She is studiously focused on the video playing, her face relaxed, her breathing slow and steady. His gaze lingers a bit longer than acceptable. She must feel it because she tells him to pay attention in a sassy voice and he reluctantly refocuses on the screen.

It's already started and he's apparently missed the title credits. He doesn't even know what this movie is called. They lie there as shaky video footage takes them all over a seemingly normal town, with seemingly normal people doing seemingly normal things. He keeps expecting something to jump out every time the music crests, but every time nothing happens. Oliver may like to claim that he's not afraid of anything, but this is kind of creeping the shit out of him. The too-perfect movie town and the doom and gloom background music and the shaky footage are driving his nerves to the edge.

Felicity hasn't said anything but he can hear her breathing pick up every time the music builds and he anticipates something frightening happening. His heart does the same thing but he refuses to give in and act on it. Something brushes against his hand and he nearly jumps out of his skin before realizing that it's just Felicity's fingers tangling with his own. He returns the pressure without a thought.

Friends totally hold hands. Right?

The camera pans across a suburban neighbourhood where perfectly dressed children play on perfectly manicured lawns and Oliver gulps as someone dressed as a clown stands frozen at the edge of the shot. No one else in the film seems to notice, and the scene goes on for long enough that he's biting the inside of his cheek in anticipation.

How is no one seeing this? It's fucking creepy. Where did Felicity even get this thing?

The scene cuts suddenly, jarring him, and Felicity lets out a huge breath.

"Want to stop?" he asks softly.

She shakes her head. "Nope. Good part's coming up."

"You've seen this before?"

She doesn't answer, but points emphatically back at the screen with her free hand. He turns back in time to catch the camera pan across an empty child's bedroom. It gives him the chills, although there's no logical reason for it to do so. The view pulls back to show the whole room, when that same clown pops up to fill the screen, for absolutely no reason.

"Fuck!"

"Ahhh!"

They both jump and then look at the other. Felicity's eyes are wide behind her glasses and her hair is all messy. His heart pounds erratically in his chest.

"Felicity, what is this shit?" he asks, pausing the movie before any more creepy clown nonsense plays. "Where on earth did you find this?"

She bites her lip, shifting until she's sitting cross-legged beside him. "Are you ready to admit that clowns are scary?"

"Uh, no. Not scary. Weird, yes. That whole video is the weirdest thing I've seen in a long time."

She groans. "Ugh, you are so stubborn. We're watching the rest." Restarting the video, she returns to lay beside him, arms crossed over her chest. "You are gonna be scared. Just you wait."

It continues on, as creepy as before, with that same white-faced clown appearing at the most inopportune times. It's always silent, moving slowly, lurking with over-exaggerated features painted on it's face.

He's not proud of what happens when they reach the end.

Felicity, on the other hand, is overjoyed, if not completely freaked out herself. She'd screamed just as much as he had and had thrown herself at him, burying her face into his chest. He may or may not have also buried his own face in her hair.

He's not admitting to anything.

After a few moments of heart-pounding silence, Felicity shifts off of him and he reaches over to flick on his bedside lamp, the darkness instantly dissipated. She sits up beside him, breathing heavily but a ridiculously proud look on her face.

"Admit it! You totally jumped. You screamed and squeezed my hand and quaked with fear because you, Oliver Queen, are afraid of clowns."

"Why won't you let this go?" he asks, rolling his eyes even as his pulse is still slowing. "Why are you so insistent that I be afraid of something?"

"Because you're a human being and human beings are afraid of things. It's normal, Oliver. Everyone finds something scary or creepy and in my case it's like, a hundred things, but there has to be one thing that you're afraid of. And why not clowns? It's practically a universal law that everyone finds them creepy."

"If I agree that clowns are creepy will you let me go to sleep?" he asks, because it's nearing 3AM and he has a class in the morning that he should probably attend, not because he actually wants her out of his bed.

She purses her lips in thought. "Yes," she answers after a moment. "If you admit that you're afraid of clowns, I'll let it go."

"That includes reading all those scary stories, just to find things I'm afraid of," he adds. "No more of that. You need to get a good night's sleep and it can't be comfortable sleeping squished in here with me."

"It feels good sleeping with you," she responds immediately, then blushes. "I mean, here in your bed. Where you sleep. And I sleep. Sometimes. Sleep sleep of course, not the other kind, we don't do that. I mean, we do that, but not together. Oh god, please stop me. It's too late for my brain to function properly."

"I'm afraid of clowns," he says, derailing her never-ending ramble and furiously attempting to stop his brain from picturing him doing that together. She hasn't rambled around him in years, since they first met and became friends, and he'd always figured that meant that she'd gotten over the obvious crush she'd originally had on him. They've both dated other people before and since they've been roommates, although it's now nearing a year since his last girlfriend.

He doesn't examine the reason why he hasn't had any drive to date anyone right now.

Felicity grins and honest to god fist pumps and Oliver shakes his head at her. "I knew I'd get you to fold."

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You win. I find clowns creepy. But they are a totally normal fear. What about all those scary stories you've been reading? Those things are probably feeding into your nightmares, right? Like the one with the kids who go into the woods and-"

"Stop! Stop it. Do not remind me about that one. It was horrible," she shudders. "I don't think I slept with the lights off for a week."

Oliver chuckles. "I know."

"Jerk."

He shrugs. "You started it."

"So mature." She sticks her tongue out at him, before gathering up her laptop and hopping off the bed. "I'm going to bed."

"Night," he says, lying back onto his pillow. "Sweet dreams."

She humphs and stomps out of his room and into the dark hallway.

He's just turned the light back off, when there's a tiny squeak from outside his door. His pulse jumps as his door slowly opens. He relaxes when soft footsteps he instantly recognizes pad across the room and the covers are drawn back.

Felicity climbs in next to him, pulling the comforter back over both of them.

"Yeah, I can't sleep alone after that movie," she says, lying on her side so that she faces him. "No way in hell."

He shakes his head at her. "Okay."

And if they wake up wrapped around each other in the morning, well-rested after a good night's sleep, neither of them bring it up until it becomes a routine that they can't ignore anymore.