#my olicity posts

[syr-tumb1r]

Olice & ZipWard ♥︎

[cisco-ramon-didnt-name-me]

Side-blog for The Flash CW

》 Watched s1-6, only really care about s1-4 everything else I ignore. I like supergirl and arrow when Barry is there.

》 Multi-shipper and polycule lover

》 Characters I main; Snart, Cisco, Wells, Harry, Felicity, Barry (I love most of the characters tho)

》 I rb whatever I want but I tag everything for easy filtering

》 no dni just be kind

》 my main

》 art credit

Ignore the blog name I literally couldn't think of one and unfortunately I can't just get Cisco to do it for me.

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Reminder that Olicity was love at first sight

[sbd-laytall]

[blazethecheeto]

What songs fit Olicity (for ship ask)

I AM. SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

(i have playlists for so many a-verse characters and ships please ask me more i guarantee you i have songs.)

Tightrope from The Greatest Showman

because!! i always found this to be felicity saying that she accepts this crazy life with oliver and they can both grow together and they found themselves in each other and-

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Hand in my hand And we promised to never let go We're walking a tightrope

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You pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream Always in motion So I risk it all just to be with you And I risk it all for this life we choose

-

2. She Is The Sunlight by Trading Yesterday

this song is literally oliver describing felicity and saying he doesn't deserve her because he's too broken etc etc angst angst and also it sounds like him

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She lives in a daydream where I don't belong She is the sunlight and the sun is gone

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Then I am the martyr and love is to blame She is the healing and I am the pain

-

3. Someone You Like - The Girl and the Dreamcatcher

hear me out on this one- this song is the most tooth-rotting sweetness that you can get and this is very s1-s2 olicity when they first get to know each other and start to catch feelings.

-

I might never stop your sorrow Fix you up good as new But that don't mean that I can't hold your hand in mine

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I might never say I'm sorry Even if I done you wrong But I think I could be someone you like

-

4. Paper Rings by Taylor Swift

no explanation for this one it screams olicity.

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Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet Now I've read all of the books beside your bed

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Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night Kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright Three times 'cause I've waited my whole life

-

5. Kissaphobic by Make Out Monday

this once again sounds like oliver in my mind and idk it has the vibes don't ask ALSO IT'S A W SONG PLEASE LISTEN TO IT.

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Your fingers are quivering Except when you're shivering I wanna hold your hand

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But I'm kissaphobic Don't wanna get too close to you Your mouth is a hurricane

[amythesilly]

awwww :D

OLICE HAS I GOT YOU

(IF used pls give credit Thx!!)

[scarletcomalies]

storia di due anime perdute

Natasha Romanoff x Fem Reader

Word count: 5,400

Warnings: Dark fic, bullying from friends group, post-death grief (both from Natasha and Reader), emotional absence from a parent, depression, self isolation, manipulation. 18+ content, Nat has a penis, blowjob.

Taglist: @nattysbabygirl @huggingkoalas @grimleaper @olicity-boo @urfav-wh0re @ihartnat @afwmaieel-1 @marvels--slut @ddreader04 @obsessedwcoffeeandwomen @traveler-at-heart @osnapitschloe @foxythefox54 @justarandomreaderxoxo

A/N: Happy Halloween, guys! I wrote this during several stoned nights with In This Moment music videos playing in the background (which ended up in Lady Gaga music videos and with me recreating the choreographies lollll).

A/N II: I tried my best effort to write as much as possible in the middle of all the ongoing college projects and the everyday hecticness. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to finish it all by today. However, my semester is almost over, therefore the wait for part II will be way shorter! :)

In the serene village of Collodi, you encountered Natasha Romanoff, a woman in search of comfort and healing after the painful loss of her wife and daughter. She was moved by your lively personality, naiveté, and tender heart, leaving within her a yearning urge to take you, mold you like one of her puppets, and help you become her real girl.

In the enchanting region of Tuscany, Italy, hid a small village called Collodi, a dreamy corner protected by the intimidating mountains that surrounded it. This place, isolated from the hectic society, seemed to yearn fervently for the trees to consume it completely, wishing that only the memories and debris of what once was would remain in the end.

But that was not possible.

Collodi would still have been in the penumbra of oblivion if it wasn't for the pen of a blissful author to pay tribute to it through an immortal fictional story. It was as if it was destined to shine in the vast darkness of the commonplace.

Because it was not as visually captivating as Monterosso al Mare, for example, a town that was part of the five villages that, in perfect unity, formed Cinque Terre.

Monterosso al Mare did not long to be consumed and forgotten. It enjoyed its own prominence along with its neighboring towns.

From miles away, its structure could be seen standing tall with dignity on the seashore, and the palette of colors that it had was a delight for the eyesight, a canvas painted by the hand of an expert brought to life. Collodi, on the other hand, appeared as a spectrum between shades yellow and brown, and didn't stand firm, it rather seemed to be on the verge of crumbling at any given moment.

But Natasha Romanoff found beauty in Collodi.

You see, Monterosso al Mare was always displaying its vibrant colors, there being no room for exhaustion or rest, and its neighboring towns shared that quality. Totally exposed to the scrutiny of others, it was constantly adapting to the expectations of those who visited it. No matter who crossed its thresholds, no matter who might inflict harm, it must always stand firm, clinging to the reputation it had so painstakingly cultivated.

Collodi didn’t have such obligation, for it was simply Collodi. Yes, it may have had a history that was inevitably inherent, but this town was still completely detached from the demands of appearance and expectations.

Natasha Romanoff found beauty in Collodi, because having been Monterosso Al Mare, cost her the life of her wife and daughter.

And in Collodi, she found you.

“What a boring town,” exclaimed Kate, one of the two people who were once considered your friends.

“No way, the House of Butterflies was amazing,” you countered, as a smile instinctively plastered on your face as you recalled the memory of the previous day.

You had seen species of butterflies that rarely appeared in everyday life, and the best part, you had the opportunity to befriend some animals! When you offered them food, they would offer you their trust and appreciation, confirming once again that pattern so rooted in your being.

The concept of love you had was limited to the material, to what could be offered in that aspect. Both Kate and your other friend, Sarah, seemed to have sensed that nature in you, and decided to take full advantage of it, knowing that your concept of normality made you vulnerable to their intentions.

“Yes, and that was it,” Sarah intervened, and the boredom so palpable in her voice made your smile fade at once. True, you had only walked around town and gone shopping, but hadn't the previous day been enough? Was it necessary to do something extraordinary every day?

It did sting a little, given how thrilled you still were about the previous day’s activity, but from what you were hearing, your friends no longer shared that enthusiasm. Nor did they settle for at least one single calm day.

"Get us some of that good gelato, at least," Kate spoke up, after noticing your silence.

You nodded obediently, "Sure thing. Be right back."

You knew the bitter taste of disappointment as if it were your old arch enemy.

It was a feeling that has been with you since childhood, specifically the day your mother's life was snatched away by a terminal illness, robbing you of the joy that should have characterized any child's early years.

As life went on without that important figure by your side, you longed for the warmth and comfort of your father. However, instead, he taught you a raw truth: absence in life was more painful than the absence due to death itself, for the soul leaves without leaving the physical body.

You dreamed of his protective embrace, of his deep voice telling you bedtime stories, of feeling his loving hands tuck you into bed each night. But your father was not your mother, nor was he the father you used to know.

This new man, consumed with his work as a way of coping with grief, became obsessed with the expansion of his business. In his mind, securing a prosperous financial future for you was the best way to demonstrate his love and care, for if only his then small business had had the resources to cover the costs of treating the illness, your mother would still be with you.

So, instead of the human safety you needed so badly, you received an insane number of expensive gifts and unnecessary luxuries. Every one of them being his way of saying "I love you, I'm not going to fail you".

Oh, but he failed you. Every time he chose his job over you. Every time he missed your birthday, every promise he broke. With the expensive gifts and lavish vacations, he offered as compensation, you learned that affection was shown through material goods, and not necessarily through presence and emotional connection. It became your only way to express and receive affection, because it was all you had known your whole life.

Sarah and Kate were quick to notice the situation. At first, they just wanted to compliment you on your fancy bag and strike up a conversation with you to gain your trust, hoping that, when the time came, they would know you well enough to borrow it for a party or event where they could show it off as their own. However, after only a week, when you gave them each a bag just like yours as a thank you for sitting down with you for lunch and chatting, they realized that it was in their best interest to keep pretending to like you, as it would benefit them.

That's how they even ended up in Italy without spending a single penny in the first place.

It was a birthday trip that your father financed, once again rewarding the fact that he had forgotten about it. He also agreed to let you invite your two “best friends” in the hope that you would forgive him.

And so, as you returned with three ice creams in hand, you felt like you carried with you the key to an elixir to keep harmony among your friends. But the ground, capricious and uneven, laughed at you, with a prominent stone lurking to trip you up. In your haste to please, you did not see it coming.

Your body collapsed, crushing the ice cream cones, and the cold, sticky mess spread all over your dress. To top it all off, the rough cobblestone street also scraped your delicate arms and hands.

You winced in pain as you pushed yourself up, noticing the red marks and small cuts that now adorned your once-flawless skin.

Embarrassed and hurt, you looked up, expecting to see concern on your friends' faces. Instead, you were met with sneers and poorly concealed laughter.

"Oh my God, (Y/N)," Sarah scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain.

Kate joined in, her eyes showing a cruel amusement, "Seriously? We asked for gelato, not a circus act."

Your cheeks burned with shame as you struggled to your feet, your now wet and cold dress clinging uncomfortably to your body.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, fighting back tears. "I'll go get some new ones..."

"Don't bother," Kate snapped, rolling her eyes. "You'll probably just drop those too. Jesus! And now we must be seen with you looking like that!"

You felt small, insignificant, and utterly alone as your so-called friends tore into you with those hurtful remarks. The beautiful day in Collodi, which had held so much promise, now felt tainted and ugly.

Was this what true friendship was supposed to feel like? Was this the essence of the connection?

Tears, hot and stinging like acid rain, began to stream down your cheeks at the thought of it all.

"Oh, great. Now she's crying,” Kate's exasperated sigh made itself present.

"All right, come on," Sarah's voice dripped with annoyance. "You need to pull yourself together. This is beyond embarrassing."

"Look, if you can't stop whining like a baby, at least walk a couple of meters behind us," Kate ordered you. “We don’t want anyone thinking we’re with… you.”

You.

That one-syllable word spoken so contemptuously and coldly, as if you were enough to make any accompanying insult seem redundant.

And you, meekly nodding, prepared to follow their cruel order.

But as you took a step to follow behind them, a gentle but firm hand grabbed your arm, stopping your movement.

Startled, you looked up to find yourself confronted by a striking woman with flame-red hair and piercing green eyes.

There was something in her gaze that invited you to resist, to question, to not let yourself be carried away by the current of contempt that surrounded you.

And when she spoke, your ears were delighted by her smooth-as-honey voice.

“Do not follow them, solnyshko,” she said, dropping the unfamiliar word with a slight accent. “They are not worth your tears or your time.”

For the very first time, there was someone willing to protect you, to remind you of your worth in a world that seemed to want to erase it.

Your subconscious, conditioned by years of neglect, sounded alarms at this strange kindness. It screamed insidiously, urging you to retreat to the cold yet familiar comfort of abandonment and life-draining complacency.

That made you gently pull your arm from Natasha's grasp, your eyes downcast in embarrassment.

"No, you don't understand," your voice trembled like a leaf in autumn's chill. "It was my fault."

Natasha's eyes flickered with sudden comprehension. That sentence alone allowed her to decipher you completely.

The vulnerability you exuded, the eagerness to please despite mistreatment, it all spoke to something deep within her. It would be a crime to let you go, knowing you were perfect material for satisfying her needs.

She glanced briefly at the retreating silhouettes of the college girls you were with, a flicker of indignation crossing her features. They were merciless, cruel in their treatment of you. Natasha knew she was different. She wasn't going to make you suffer like them, because she was far from mean.

Instead, she would shower you with the warmth of genuine care, something you had clearly been deprived of for so long. In time, she would become as essential to you as the air you breathed. You would need her, finding it impossible to abandon her. And in return, she would have someone who needed her, someone she could protect and nurture, someone she could mold to her liking to fill that void that had been devouring her insides like a ravenous parasite.

"Your fault that this town's ground is made of stone? Your fault that it's dark already?” She asked gently. Instead of offering empty reassurances, she aimed to give you some autonomy, allowing you to discover the truth for yourself.

Her smile became unavoidable as she noticed your wide, innocent eyes intently analyzing her questioning.

"Could you have predicted every uneven surface? Every shadow?" She continued, her tone encouraging reflection rather than accusation. "And these friends of yours," Natasha pressed on, scoffing with contempt so palpable it made you flinch. She made your terrifying friends seem insignificant in the face of her formidable presence. “They have never stumbled? Are they always perfectly graceful?"

This question hit home. You had a fair share of memories of Kate tripping over her own feet at parties and Sarah passing out in some stranger’s backyard. You had never blamed them for their clumsiness. So why were you holding yourself to an impossible standard not even they could meet?

How silly of you, taking blame for something so clearly beyond your control.

A small, rueful smile became clear as you realized the absurdity of your self-accusation.

"You see, dear?" Natasha chuckled at your adorable smile. She felt her cock reacting as well through a painfully, intense throbbing. Every fiber of her being screamed for release, so overwhelming it threatened to consume her entirely, to break through her carefully constructed walls. But not yet, she reminded herself, her fists clenching with the effort of restraint. "Now, let's forget about them. Let's get you cleaned up, I don't live far from here."

Her invitation, or rather, command, caught you off guard, "But I don't know you," you gently declined. She didn’t budge, for she was more than sure that it would be a piece of cake to have you beneath her roof in the blink of an eye.

"Oh, right, my name is Natalia Romanova,” she introduced herself. “And your name is…?”

Unbeknownst to you, she had long ago stopped using the name Natasha Romanoff. It was an alias she'd adopted during her time as an Avenger back in the United States, but she had renounced that life, therefore, she no longer needed that identity. As for "Black Widow", the mere mention of it now filled her with loathing.

“Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N),” you replied, trying to sound polite even after your small rejection.

Noticing your slight discomfort, Natasha decided to lighten up the tension that was beginning to build up, going ahead to reach into her pocket and show you a small, perfectly carved wooden figurine.

It was a cat! You adored cats.

"This is Figaro," Natasha introduced you to her little piece of wood, a fond smile adorning her lips. "He's my dear cat. Well, a miniature version of him."

Your eyes were drawn to the marvelous craftsmanship of the figurine. "Wow," you gasped, and your curious fingers itched to touch it, but you held back. "Did you do this?"

"I did,” she confirmed with pride. This woodworking hobby, alongside her tuxedo cat and golden fish, seemed to be the sole source of joy in her miserable existence. “I do this for a living. My house is filled with pieces like this.”

"That's amazing," you replied, genuinely impressed. "I bet they're all as stunning as this one," you remarked, gesturing to the figure in her hand.

Her smile expanded, almost impossibly so. It had been ages since she smiled like this, and perhaps it was twisted of her that the reason was the anticipation of taking you and exploiting you fully.

"Not as stunning as real-life Figaro," she countered, her eyes softening with affection. "Oh, just imagine the softest cloud you've ever seen, now picture it in black and white colors. That's Figaro."

The way Natasha described him with such genuine warmth and affection made your heart squeeze in tenderness, and your defenses were slowly crumbling, just like she predicted. After all, you reasoned, how could someone who talked so lovingly about their cat possibly be dangerous?

"Well,” she concluded, with a small sigh that feigned disappointment. "If you accepted my invitation, you could see him in person. But I understand. It's dangerous to go to a stranger's home. That’s wise of you."

The thought of letting down such a kind-hearted woman was intolerable. How could you possibly walk away after she had been so sweet and kind to you? You finally met someone who treated you with respect, and this was your response? How ungrateful!

"You know, actually," you finally spoke, so quickly they successfully interrupted your recurring thoughts. "I think I'd like to meet Figaro now, if that's okay."

Natasha's face lit up, her emerald eyes sparkling with an intense delight. Everything turned out exactly as she wanted, making her feel like an expert puppeteer effortlessly manipulating the strings of her most treasured marionette.

"Of course it's okay, solnyshko," she replied cheerfully. Anyone with an ounce of reasoning would wonder why she seemed so eager to bring a stranger girl home, but not you. Certainly not you. "You won't regret it, I assure you."

In the small village chambers, lanterns flickered softly, casting shadows that danced and twisted. Initially, these shadows appeared as large, intimidating figures, but upon closer inspection, they transformed into friendly faces with wide smiles. Yet, when their eyes met Natasha, they seldom did not recognize her.

"Natty! Buona notte, cara mia!" They always exclaimed, their voices brimming with enthusiasm and eyes aglow. A dull ache settled in your chest. It seemed wrong to feel that twinge of envy, yet you couldn't recall the last time anyone appeared that delighted to see you, and you couldn't help but long for it to be you to be greeted that way.

Unlike your so-called friends who always insisted on walking ahead, leaving you trailing behind like an afterthought, Natasha walked alongside you. Her emerald eyes occasionally glanced your way, a gentle smile gracing her lips.

The ice cream stain on your dress was still visible, your eyes, though no longer wet with tears, remained red and puffy. Yet, Natasha radiated an intrinsic pride in having you by her side, as if your presence was something to be cherished rather than hidden away.

“Well, here we are,” Natasha exhaled a deep sigh of relief as she turned the key and pushed open the door to her home, inviting you to step inside. The comforting embrace of warmth following the biting chill was a welcome relief.

Unlike most homes, there was no central overhead light. Instead, small lanterns perfectly scattered throughout the space illuminated it cozily.

The entire first level served as Natasha's workplace, living room, dining room, and kitchen, all in one. Though there were no walls dividing these areas, the transitions were clear.

To your left, Natasha's creations dominated the entire corner, making it a challenge to navigate without stepping on something. Positioned by the window was a long table with a variety of well-used tools, including hammers, a saw, screwdrivers, pliers, and wrenches.

On the opposite side, to your right, there was a kitchen, equipped with just a fridge, a sink, and vintage stove, alongside a small wooden table that could seat two people maximum, and you wondered if Natasha had crafted it herself. The middle area displayed a fireplace with a couch positioned in front of it, and on a side table, there was a round fishbowl containing a goldfish, which immediately caught your attention.

"Please, excuse the mess," Natasha remarked with a hint of guilt. She never cleaned her home more than necessary because she never expected visitors, as she preferred to personally deliver everything to those who requested her work, from the smallest souvenir to the most unbearably heavy piece of furniture. You might never have realized it, but you were the first person to set foot in her home by her own will and not because people intrusively knocked on her door to request commissions or to drop off gifts.

"No, no, it's great," you replied sincerely, having already scanned every corner of the place. Her old superhero friends might think this wasn't Natasha at all, but to you, who had only met this side of her, it definitely screamed Natalia everywhere, and all those residents of Collodi could say the same.

"Please, do take a seat!" She exclaimed so energetically that her voice could have echoed throughout the entire neighborhood. Without a moment's hesitation, you went to sit by the fireplace, the gentle flames providing you with so much warmth that you almost forgot the ice cream on your dress. "Stay here, I'll find you some clothes," she added, stepping away without taking her eyes off you, with fear that you might vanish at any moment.

While awaiting the return of the red-haired woman, you swiftly took out your phone to send a message to your friends, letting them know that you were fine and that you would get back soon. In your noble heart, you believed that they might worry about you, even if they were angry at you. However, the way they abandoned you with a stranger and walked away without looking behind unequivocally proved otherwise.

"See if this fits you," the same raspy, indistinct voice made you look up, and you gasped in surprise when you noticed that, in the arm not holding the change of clothes, she was carrying the famous cat Figaro she had told you about. His pupils were dilated due to the dim light, yet you could still notice a faint yellow ring encircling those dark orbs. He stayed calm, allowing his owner to carry him without squirming or resisting.

"Oh, he's gorgeous!" You exclaimed, just a few seconds were enough for this feline to capture your heart.

She chuckled softly, placing the little one on the couch beside you, "Clean clothes and a kitty, just as we agreed."

As if on cue, Figaro suddenly jumped from the couch, his black and white fur almost a comedic, straight-out-of-cartoon blur as he darted across the room and disappeared behind a stack of wooden carvings.

"I should have mentioned, Figaro doesn't like strangers."

You couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, for you had hoped to pet the furry cat, “Oh, that’s okay.”

Noticing your expression, Natasha chuckled, "But don't worry, once you offer him some food, he'll forget all about being shy and will come running back to you,” she reassured you, handing you the neatly folded garments.

"Thank you very much, where can I change?" You inquired, accepting the clothes that seemed extremely comfortable even without considering the chill and sticky stain of your dress.

"You can change here. I'll go upstairs to give you privacy. Just let me know when you're ready," she replied with such sincerity that it was impossible not to believe her.

When she left you alone, she ascended the stairs as she usually did, and when she reached the last step, with great care, she lay down on the floor, peering her head to see you. Never had she been so grateful for the darkness of her abode, for without it, you would have seen her head lurking at the top of the stairs.

Oh, blessed be the moment you chose to wear that dress, for it granted her the exquisite opportunity to admire your entire form, your most desirable parts covered by a black lace lingerie ensemble.

Her hand slowly traveled down to the burning ache that formed between her legs, which pulsed intensely through her already hard length. She tried to soothe the discomfort with a gentle squeeze, however, said action condemned her to complete what she had begun, lest she risk losing her sanity.

Therefore, with her eyes shut tight, she quietly made her way to the bathroom, promising herself to stay silent for just a moment to quell her longing.

She inhaled deeply and rested her hands against the sink. The mirror showed her flushed face, nostrils flaring from her labored breathing, and the familiar vein protruding on her forehead.

She exhaled through her mouth and lowered the zipper of her pants, revealing the fabric of her boxers. Unsurprisingly, there was a slightly darker wet patch of her pre-cum, showing just how much relief her poor member was desperately looking for. Subsequently, she slid her hand under the undergarment, and…

“I’m ready!” She heard your voice from downstairs.

“Yebany v rot,” she cursed between gritted teeth.

She hesitated, debating between coming down to join you, or staying there to prioritize her own needs. Yet, just picturing your eager little face and probably your hungry tummy prompted her to pull up her pants again. With another deep breath, she composed herself as best as she could to return to you.

Seeing you in that attire shattered the fragile composure she had managed to gather, causing her breath to hitch and a tight knot to form in her throat, which she clumsily attempted to swallow down.

You looked so perfect, wearing her clothes, slightly oversized over your frame in a way that was both endearing and domestic, even. Not to mention the fact that you would carry her scent for the rest of the night.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, noticing how her already tense expression worsened the moment her eyes landed on you. You assumed that perhaps the way those clothes fit you wasn't quite right. Maybe she expected them to be more form-fitting, which would mean looking for other clothes, and maybe she was already too tired to deal with that hassle.

"Nothing, it's just that… I'm feeling kind of tense, it's obviously not your fault," she tried to explain. It would be a shame to lie to you, especially when your naive mind already sensed the shift. "Hungry?" she asked, hoping to change the subject to ease your worries and distract herself.

"No, I already ate," you stated with a firmness that would have surprised anyone who had interacted with you, including her. "What's wrong?" you demanded.

Natasha, taken aback, but determined, admitted, "You look beautiful.”

She wasn't by any means shy. She could have taken you right there, knowing you were too weak to defend yourself and would have let her. Nevertheless, she didn't want that. She wasn't interested in being just another opportunist who crossed your path to take what she needed and leave. She wanted to make you so dependent on her that you would desire it in your heart to give it to her.

You furrowed your brow, confusion evident on your face. "Don’t try to distract me," you replied, shaking your head slightly.

With a deep breath, Natasha stepped closer. "Here," she murmured, gently taking your hand, guiding it to the front of her pants.

Your eyes widened in shock as you felt the unmistakable hardness there, provoking you to quickly pull your hand away, your cheeks matching the same deep shade of red as hers.

"I'm so sorry," Natasha apologized, taking a step back. "I shouldn't have... It's just... This is the problem. You're so beautiful, and my body reacted."

You stood there, frozen for a moment, your mind racing. You couldn’t deny, her nurturing and caring nature was irresistibly appealing to you. In some sense, she gave you the hope of reclaiming control and rewriting the story of abandonment that etched deeply into your soul.

"I... I think you're beautiful too," you spoke. "And after everything you've done for me tonight, the least I can do is... help you."

Natasha's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and concern crossing her features. "No, solnyshko. That's not necessary. I shouldn't have put you in this position."

But you took a tentative step forward, your heart pounding but your mind already made up. "I want to," you insisted softly. "Please, I want this."

"No, you don’t," she countered, the word tasting strange on her tongue. The offer you made was tempting, almost unbearably so, but she refused to be just another person you felt indebted to.

“I do,” you reiterated.

And you genuinely did.

Although you considered it strange that someone would reject your attempts to reciprocate those acts of kindness, it could be said that it was the first time it didn't feel like an obligation, but rather an opportunity to finally experience what it’s like to have such a physical connection with someone, let alone someone as attractive as her.

Material possessions were the only things you had relied on so far, so this could even be something unique between her and you.

"I have never done it before, so this is a win-win situation," you continued, trying to persuade her. "I help you, and you teach me."

She gazed into your eyes, discovering a profound yearning. She knew you meant every word, and it made her wonder, if a mere gesture of kindness could inspire such actions in you, to what extent would your commitment go if you became dependent on her?

"Alright," she agreed. "Let’s take it slow, and if you ever want to stop, just say the word."

Natasha reclined gracefully on the couch, parting her legs as an implicit invitation that seemed to compel you to approach her, all without the slightest motion or gesture from her part.

You chose to comply, kneeling between her legs. Despite her evident efforts to assert her dominance, you felt empowered by the mere knowledge that you could elicit such reactions from her, to the point where she was unable to conceal her distress, leaving her with no choice but to confess her attraction to you.

"You’re taking your time," she murmured, her voice evidencing a palpable sense of anticipation.

As you undid her button and unzipped her pants, you could feel the hardness of her member under the touch of your wrists, even when there were two layers of cloth covering it.

And all this for you.

Her cock sprang free and stood at attention after you pulled down the hem of her boxers and pants to below her balls. She remained motionless, not taking her green eyes from yours as you contemplated her arousal.

You knew it was big, and you knew it was agonizingly hard, but the reality overcame any assumptions when you were faced with easily ten inches in length, adorned by multiple prominent veins.

"Please, touch it," she pleaded, her voice abandoning any semblance of composure. Pride, that accursed pride, was meaningless when her body irrefutably ached for you.

Her tip was a deep pink, dripping with droplets of pre-cum. Taking it gently, wrapping your fingers around it, you picked up the droplets with your thumb and spread them around it, making it take on a peculiar sheen.

“Fuck,” she moaned, closing her eyes, and throwing her head back.

That alone gave you the confidence you needed to stroke her cock in up and down movements, successfully making her tremble under your touch.

Her full lips were slightly parted, and her breath came in short, sharp gasps or high-pitched whimpers. It was truly a welcome sight, witnessing someone entrust you with their body, openly displaying such vulnerability before you.

She extended her hand, firmly grasping your wrist, and guided your hand to the base of her erection. Simultaneously, her other hand gently rested on the back of your neck, offering encouragement rather than forcing you.

You wrapped your mouth around her already wet tip, moaning as you savored the warmth of the pre-cum that seemed to keep making itself present. You began to suckle her glans gently, letting your tongue take the place from time to time to tease her hole.

Her hand clutched at your hair, guiding your head as you began to bob up and down on her cock. Her breathing became shallower as you quickly found your rhythm, delighting in the view of half of her dick disappearing into your warm mouth and re-emerging glistening with your saliva and her fluids.

“Goddamn it," she muttered under her breath, her insatiable nature getting the better of her, compelling her to lift her hips upward. It was the way your throat contracted into a gag that made her involuntarily ejaculate her seed, the hot liquid filling your mouth.

“Fuuuck!” She cum in your mouth in one, two, three spurts. It was obvious by how her face contracted in pleasure that she had not anticipated that her cock had taken on a mind of its own, stripping her of any authority over it.

You endeavored to swallow as much as your astonishment and inexperience allowed, yet a gentle cough escaped you, causing a few drops to delicately trickle down your chin.

"Well done, malyshka," were the first words that escaped her lips once her breathing steadied.

You appeared utterly perfect, as you looked up at her with those doe eyes, with the sheen of her release enhancing the fullness and glossiness of your lips. She vowed never to entertain the thought of allowing you out of her sight.

You sealed your fate the moment your paths crossed, but you cemented your doom in that very instant.

[aroeddiediaz]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @cal-daisies-and-briars , @jesuiscenseedormir , @diazsdimples

How many works do you have on ao3?

27!

What's your total ao3 word count?

61,537

What fandoms do you write for?

Currently I’m pretty much exclusively a 9-1-1 writer, but in the past I wrote a lot of Flarrowverse (do they still call it that?). I also have published fics for Fantastic Beasts and a few anime (Given, Haikyuu, Saiki K). Given the number of Bnha wips i have locked away in the vault it’s amazing I don’t have anything published for that.

Top 5 fics by kudos:

(I am omitting all the Flarrowverse fics in my top 5 on the basis that they were written in high school and I’ve changed as a person, and they probably only beat out on the numbers due to being up for years longer)

1. Kabe-Do’s and Kabe-Don’ts (Given, 861 kudos)

2. You’re Not Special (Saiki K, 598 kudos)

3. How Eddie Learned To Stop Worrying And Embrace The Kitten Life (9-1-1, 327 kudos)

4. The Boy Formerly Known As Miracle (Haikyuu, 277 kudos)

5. Under The Hood (9-1-1, 275 kudos)

Do you respond to comments?

Yes!! As many as I can!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This probably has to be The Crimes of Queenie Goldstein, in which Queenie is put on trial for her actions during the war. Don’t @ me but Queenie turning traitor was bu far the most interesting part of the Crimes of Grindelwald (the only interesting thing, really). There could be such an interesting story between her and Tina if only JKR would let the movies out of her grasp.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Fuck, idk if I have a happiest ending fic, a lot of them tend to not have that much story arc. (A lot of established relationship fluff or smut lmao). I guess if I had to pick one it would probably be How Eddie Learned To Stop Worrying and Embrace The Kitten Life.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not since that one anti-olicity fic that I wrote while deep in the trenches of Flarrowverse discourse, which I totally deserved :/. I have regrets. Also I should probably orphan/delete that one if I haven’t already. In my defense, high school. I have learned.

Do you write smut?

Yea lol. I think my 9-1-1 stuff has been almost exclusively smut. Idk how it happened. (I do know how it happened smut is fun to write)

Craziest crossover?

I haven’t published any of my crossover fics :( none of them have been complete enough. I have many many unfinished RotBTD wips that have never seen the light of day though.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Who would steal my stuff? Lol

Have you ever had a fic translated?

One time someone offered to translate one of my fics into Russian but idk if that ever actually happened.

Have you co-written a fic before?

Nope

All time favorite ship?

Right now definitely Buddie! Percabeth holds a special place in my heart though <3

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Ok. After the end of the Heroes of Olympus Series, but before Trials of Apollo was announced, I tried my own hand at writing the sequel that was clearly coming based on all the loose threads in the final book. It was going to be a Solangelo quest to save the Oracle of Delphi from Python, while Akhys tries to poison Percy to turn him into an evil god(?). Half the details have been lost and I desperately want to remember them, because I haven’t attempted anything nearly as cool or ambitious since then. The first 5 chapters are posted on my ao3 (Will Solace and the Oracle’s Cry) and I still think high school me had the most interesting characterization of Will out of everyone else on the internet at the time. Even if it is still very 2015.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I’m good at getting into the heads of different characters. Understanding their motives and weaknesses.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Editing.

Lmao I have a lot of weaknesses but I definitely struggle the most with trying to look back on or change things I’ve already written, even when it’s necessary.

Also my tendency to just drop fics if I stop working on them for too long. Rip to my wip graveyard.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

That’s a minefield I’m not willing to play in. Unless it’s Chinese. Very limited amounts of Chinese. Or like, a pet name or phrase that’s already ubiquitous in fandom so I’m not risking anything.

First fandom you wrote in?

Percy Jackson!! That Will Solace quest is the first thing I ever wrote! I definitely had a tendency to jump into the deep end with new hobbies lmao. Like my first ever cosplay that took me 3 years to complete.

Favorite fic you've written?

I think my favorite fic is always going to be the one I’m currently working on writing. But I am very proud of the silly little dramatic ironies in In Hindsight, which I wrote entirely over one long lunch the day after 7x04 broke me. Also I have to shoutout Teacher’s Pet, that one ruler spanking fic nobody ever reads because it’s Eddie/Ana lmao. I enjoyed putting in a bunch of tiny incompatibilities between them. So, uh, I guess my favorite thing in my own writing is dramatic irony?

Tagging: @aspecbuddie @pirrusstuff @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @lemonzestywrites @your-catfish-friend @inkmortal-trash389 @evanbegins s @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @epicbuddieficrecs @kitteneddiediaz @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @coatedpanda16 @nicotinewrites @estheticpotaeto @babytrapperdiaz @snowviolettwhite @wikiangela

[chocolateteapotsvis]

Halbarry Recs: POV Outsider

What is POV Outsider? For shipping purposes, it's a story focused on the romance, but is told by a character outside the main ship. Ollie POV, Batman POV, anything goes!

Ephemeris by mehmehmeh (@mia-nna)

The world’s greatest detective has got some things to say. 

“Bats ... perform the vital ecological roles of pollinating flowers and dispersing fruit seeds; many tropical plant species depend entirely on bats for the distribution of their seeds.” (wiki)

you've got the best of my love by finalfrontierpioneer (@finalfrontierpioneer)

Five times Hal goes to Oliver for romantic advice, and the one time he puts it to good use.

Hal's just trying to be a good boyfriend; Oliver's got no idea.

Just the Two of Us (We Can Make It If We Try) Ch5: Ice Cream by layspotatochipabs (@layspotatochipabs)

Bruce stalks Hal and Barry. He's so fucking done with their flirting; why can't they just get together? If they don't, he'll resort to writing fanfics about them violence (telling them about their mutual feelings).

I Came in Like a Racquetball by ChocolateTeapots (@ tacky self-promotion)

When Hal suggested a series of sports competitions with his square of a best friend, Carol assumed that meant he’d be out of her hair.

All Carol wants is to get her fucking work done. Is that really so much to ask?

Or: Silver Age Hal's attempts to seduce his best friend through sports competitions of increasing ridiculousness, as seen by an exasperated ex with better things to do.

Young Padawans by mehmehmeh (@mia-nna)

In which a green cupid shoots a few arrows to push two heroes together. Every Mulder needs a Scully and vice verca. How else will they prevent Mars Attacks?

(Hal Jordan + CWverse, fledgling halbarry with a platonic flarrow and slight hints of olicity)

Was learning @shehungthemoon ALSO loves this POV the catalyst to finally post this specific list? I'll let you decide!

This is one of my all time favorite things, and I'm also behind on my Halbarry reading, so if anyone else has recommendations, I'd love to hear them!

Also, for fics actually about Hal's birthday...

Pic inspired by you've got the best of my love by finalfrontierpioneer, because this image has been stuck in my head since I started illustrating these lists! (So I completely forgot that I already rec'ed this on another list AND did an illustration for it! I'll mix things up more next time!) Stock photo reference because hands are hard

And if you're looking for a couple more, (and don't mind more tacky self-promotion), here's Vampire Dinah putting up with Vampire Hal who's totally, absolutely, going to follow orders and kill Barry, and (not Halbarry) Random Mook #5 in a Gotham terrorized by a Bruce Wayne who modeled his hero persona on a different fear

[the-feral-gremlin]

Unthinkable 10 years event by @madwomanwithawarehouse

Day Two: Fic Rec/Team Arrow.

All Olicity fics. All from my bookmarks. I don’t have a lot of season two Olicity/arrow in general fics so disclaimer that a lot of these are by the same (wonderful) author. I ran out of commentary towards the end but these are all amazing fics!!

Of Green Blankets and Office Naps by imfallingforyoureyes102.

Summary:

When Moira Queen goes to drop off some documents in Oliver’s office, she happens upon a certain blonde unknowingly chattering away to a sleeping Oliver and watches in fascination at the almost domestic way Felicity pries off his shoes and gently pulls off the tie from around his neck.

(Or, a very tired Oliver falls asleep in his office, Felicity makes him comfortable when he refuses to wake up, and Moira watches in awe as the computer genius dances around the office, closing the blinds and shutting down his computer, without so much as a grunt from the man that can never seem to sleep in the presence of anyone else.)

This one unfortunately, isn’t surrounding the unspeakable episode but it is still so amazing that I couldn’t NOT add it in context. I love LOVE fics that are from the outsiders perspective of Olicity, especially early season and from the people closest to them both! I love how Moira is written in this! And how the writer captured Olicity’s dynamic pre-relationship/confession! It’s such a cute fic!

You know I'm gonna find a time to catch your hand (and make you stay) by tryalittlejoytomorrow

Summary:

"I read on the internet that pancakes are a good way to say thank you for letting a poor, homeless, unemployed guy crash at your place."

Oliver spends the summer at Felicity's, pretending that nothing changed.

Hint: he's wrong.

(Post-2x23, Unthinkable.)

Set right after season two Felicity lets Oliver crash on her couch because the queen mansion/inheritance isn’t his anymore and he’s unemployed. I love the opening scene being Felicity waking Oliver up from a nightmare. His thought process is so well written!!!! I love how the writer writes Felicity’s commitment issues as well, not a lot of people do that. Also Walter calling to offer them a job at his company is so funny afjkgfc

The Weary Kind by hope27

Summary:

Felicity knows Oliver isn't sleeping. She knows he's pushing them away. She knows he's letting Slade get into his head. But it isn't until she finds him outside her window one night that she confronts him about it.

Bystander by ElasticMonk

Summary:

Set in season 2 in Sara’s POV - Sara deals with Laurel in the aftermath of Slade Wilson. Laurel makes a play for Oliver’s heart while Sara silently ships Olicity. But then again Sara was never that great at being completely silent.

Sara being an Olicity shipper and somehow (a little) more emotionally healthy than Oliver is an amazing combo. I love Canarrow but it’s really nice to see Sara and Oliver being friends. This is so nice!!

[jooeeydee]

We know how Sara Lance likes her coffee, black with lots of sugar! We learn that early on in Legends Season One. You might like your coffee differently and that's fine, so is artistic liberty in matters the show didn't elaborate on but if the show gave us the answer, stick with it. And the shows gave us several people's coffee preferences. Sara drinks it black with two sugars, Oliver likes it black, Felicity drinks a none fat latte with extra sugar (that makes zero sense on a nutrition level) just to name a few. We got the info. So do your research. Use another methaphor. Sorry things like that just really annoy me. But then again, I spend hours working out the smallest detail and researching things like Max Fuller's wife's name...

She doesn't like her coffee bitter, like her relationships and dirty martini, the woman mainly drinks scotch!, like do your research if you use it as something to make a point about a character and their actions.

And Sara was not sleeping with whoever tickled her fancy during her time with the Legends. There were a few choice people she hooked up with but she wasn't sleeping her way through time as so many Avalance people would like to make it out.

And who the hell thinks Ava's sweet while Oliver is bitter? It's like the exact opposite. Oliver's the sweetest person on the planet, Ava is so fucking bitter it's not even funny anymore.

And I don't why I'm over here ranting. Blame it on all the people tagging fics as Canarow simply for mentioning the fact that Sara used to date Oliver. That's a fact, you don't need to tag it that for two sentences.

I swear I get heat for also tagging a Canarrow story Olicity because technically in the story Oliver is with Felicity as in the present but Avalance and Olicity people tag a story Canarrow just because Sara and Oliver having been together is mentioned or they break up in the first chapter and them actually being together is never shown in the story.

Make it make sense and stop tagging your toxic bullshit with my ship! There are so few Canarrow fics out there don't throw your anti-fics in there I don't want to see those toxic ships under my happy tag.

I think I'm done now.

And where are my fellow Canarrow writers at? I sort of want to go through with "there can't be a none Canarrow ship at the top of the Canarrow tag" but I'm one person, my muse is flakey and given the amount of Avalance and Olicity people that are currently falsely tagging their fics Canarrow I will not be able to do that.

Wow this post just turned into something entirely different.

Anyway... I hope everyone has a great day.

[tevantarlos]

Chenford Breakup

First, this post is long as hell. And second, I'm sorry if this post goes in circles a bit. My mind's a chaotic place to be. I just hope it makes some sense to others. Read more under the cut.

I feel like I'm one of a few who isn't really freaking out about Tim breaking up with Lucy. Do I like it? Definitely not. Do I want them to get back together? As soon as reasonably possible. I want both of them to get therapy and make their way back to each other.

I'm not going to hate on the actors or the characters and I ask that you respectfully do the same if you comment on my posts. I'm not saying, don't be upset. It's how you feel and it's valid. I just ask anyone who engages with me, to not be rude or a jerk if we have differing views on things.

I'm hoping the breakup doesn't last long. I'm hoping that Tim realizes he made a mistake. Not in trying to protect Lucy, but in how he went about it. He didn't give her a choice. He basically said, "I'm trying to protect you, and the best way to do that is to push you away and break up with you." Tim needs to see things from Lucy's POV. She's an adult and she can decide if she wants to risk her career and her life. He also needs to respect her and their relationship enough to be honest with her. Before anyone jumps in and says I'm ganging up on Tim, I'm not. I love Tim as a character and I love Lucy as a character. I just think that Tim needs to work on his communication skills some more. I feel like they both need therapy and I want them to get it. I want them to be happy and healthy and still in love with each other, once they both have been working on their issues for a bit.

I really hope the show gets renewed for season 7. I want to see them both get therapy. I want to see them communicate more. I want to see them happy. I want to see them in love. I want to see honesty. I want to see them working together. Laughing together. All the things that make them great as a couple and as singular characters.

I'm not going to let the breakup ruin the show for me. I watch the show mainly for Chenford. I like them as a couple and as singular characters. I like Wopez, also as a couple and as singular characters. I love Grey and his wife, and Nyla, Genny and Aaron. I don't care about most of the other characters. I guess what I'm saying is, I'm not going to stop watching the show just because Chenford broke up. I used to watch General Hospital and my former favorite couple used to break up and get back together for years. I don't like the back and forth, but I'll put up with it for a short time. If the show gets renewed for season 7 and Tim and Lucy show no signs of reconciliation by the end of that season, or by the end of this season and the show gets cancelled, then I will just be done with the show.

A lot of fans are having a knee-jerk reaction to the break up right now, and are threatening to drop the show and are harassing the actors. First, it's just a TV show, get a grip. And second, Eric and Melissa are just actors. Don't harass them about fictional characters. It's ridiculous and I don't want to see a repeat of the psycho behaviors of a select few that react like some of the Olicity fandom from Arrow did, each time Oliver and Felicity broke up. This post turned out longer than I meant, and it came out preachy, which wasn't my intention, sorry. But these are my thoughts, thanks for reading.

[shannyfishwriter]

hey! :) Im currently making my way, bingereading through all your amazing Arrow-Olicity Fics :D And I was wondering… are you still int eh fandom? either writing or reading or just posting, etc? thank you so muhc for your stories, they are AMAZING!!!! I'm in love with Perdition and No Matter What, and now will headdive into your oneshot :D

Hi there! I am glad that you're enjoying my Arrow/Olicity fanfic :). I don't write for Arrow anymore, all of my stuff is posted on AO3 (if you're not already reading it there). I think I have 60+ stories over there just for Arrow/Olicity, including flash fiction challenge things! I don't PLAN to go back and write more, however, if my brain gets into a re-watch mode, I may go back and wrap up those fics where I accidentally left open. I think I left possibly stories within both "In Truth" and "Paths" series left open, which are two stories that I had really had a good time writing and planning out (and I likely still have notes on).

Right now my writing looks like: putting off further working on my original novel that I shouldn't be putting off, writing Star Trek Strange New Worlds fanfic when I can, and then writing for 2 characters on 2 ships of a Star Trek PBEM RPG. I'm also reading again, which is sort of odd. I used to read a lot forever ago, but I've been adding to my TBR stack but also actually reading as well. So that takes up time as well, but good for the creative part of my brain. RL tends to keep me more occupied than I like and a lot of just trying to get myself where I can have writing space and time.

So thank you so much, Lexi, for checking in! :). It might have taken me two weeks to get back to you this go around ;). So glad that you're enjoying Olicity fics and maybe I'll write more in the future that you'll enjoy as well!

[yourenotdonefighting]

First Sentence Game

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

1. Noah knows that faraway look. He's seen it hundreds of times over the last 18 years. from Carry Me Home (Stydia, 1.5K words, post-6x10 fluff)

2. Lydia is used to nightmares. She's been having them for years, and who could blame her? from Just Say You Won't Let Go (Stydia, 18K words, angsty with an eventual happy ending)

3. "You sure about this?" Steve asks tentatively. from Who's Going to Tell Them? (Romanogers, 14K, WIP, slow burn, fluff, angst, companion piece to Step Into the Light.)

4. Lydia reaches into the depths of her purse, feeling around for the spearmint candy she knows lives at the bottom. from Stars In Slow Motion (Stydia, 1.5K, post-6a fluff)

5. "See you in a minute." Those five words played in Steve’s head; stuck on a permanent loop that he couldn’t turn off no matter how hard he tried. from When a Minute Lasts Forever (Romanogers, 3.2K, so much angst)

6. Natasha came to suddenly, blinking several times as her eyes adjusted to the dark. from Far Too Young to Die (Romanogers, 4.5K, Natasha being a baddie. Steve saving the day.)

7. Natasha glanced around the platform at her team, her family – or rather, what was left of it – and drew in a deep breath. from Step Into the Light (Romanogers, 38K, slowish burn, fluffy, angsty, happy ending)

8. Felicity could hear Oliver calling her name, but she didn't stop, and she most certainly didn't look back. from Is it My Fault? (We've Been Missing Each Other) (Olicity, 9K, slow burn, team arrow saves the hero)

9. For the third time that week Felicity shot straight up in bed in a panicked, cold sweat. from Lay Your Weary Head to Rest (Olicity, 1.5K, angsty, comfort) 10. Just shy of thirty-six hours after leaving Slade Wilson behind at the ARGUS detention facility on Lian Yu, Oliver finds himself back outside of Felicity's apartment building. from You're in my veins (and I cannot get you out) (Olicity, 3K, mild angst, comfort, fluff)

Can y'all tell I love to write angst? Revisiting some of my older stuff was fun! :) Tagging @whitedahlia13 because she's the only writer I know here. lol.

[ymnfilter]

Hi

Hello

How are you?

Just a quick question, have you given up your Olicity stories? You don't owe me an answer of course but i would just like to know if i should stop hoping for updates.

Ultimately it's your decision and you should do what's best for you. I understand that.

Have a nice day 😙

hi! this is such a coincidence, cause i just started going through my hard drive of all my fics yesterday. I can't promise that i will be writing anything new per se, but I have a bunch of fics that I never posted, and some that I posted before and then deleted. I'm planning on slowly re-editing and posting them on my ao3.

thank you for all the love and support you guys have been giving to my writing despite my bi-polar decisions to delete and reupload a bunch of fics. I don't deserve you :(

[littlelittlestar-o]

ZIPCLAIRE COMUNITE FORGIVE ME I MADE THIS FOR A YOUTUBE ART CONTEST FOR MY FAV GACHA FPE YOUTUBER

(Ima post a link right here to the video) (also yes i could of made Olice fanart but idc i have bern obbsed with zip i had too)