The final fic challenge prompt is... a heart made of post it notes with little love notes written on each. Check out Olicity Fic Challenge on tumblr for the picture prompt.

Annnnd, I finally finished the challenge! I realize this would have been a better multi chapter fic, but since I'm lazy and wanted it to be the Valentine's Day chapter for the challenge it's just a one shot. Hope you like it :)

And if anyone has any prompts, feel free to send them in! I'm always happy to try my hand at prompts ;)

One year and two months ago Felicity never would have expected to be where she is now.

Not in her career—current VP of Palmer Technologies—or in her life—paralyzed from the waist down after her car slipped on a patch of ice and slammed into a guardrail.

She certainly never expected to be sharing an apartment with notorious playboy Oliver Queen, but that's where she found herself.

Looking into her bathroom mirror, her view obstructed by the multiple pink post it notes stuck to it, she reflected back on how she'd gotten there.

A little over a year ago, when her car ran off the road and she'd woken up, confused and alone, in the hospital, Felicity had been devastated. She'd just been promoted to head of Applied Sciences, she'd been flirting a little with Ray Palmer, maybe heading for something more in their relationship, but then she'd lost it all.

At least, it had felt that way to Felicity.

She couldn't walk, she was out of work for two months, Ray pulled back on the romantic front—wanting to give her space, he'd explained. Her life had just been coming together and then it was taken away with the jerk of a steering wheel.

Her mother told her she was quitting her job in Vegas and moving to Starling to help Felicity get used to her "new normal," as the doctors referred to her life now. But Felicity didn't want her mother moving in with her, she didn't want to have to readjust to living her life. She didn't want Ray "giving her space" while hovering around her hospital room and calling to make sure she was okay. She just wanted it to be the way it was before!

She knew she was depressed. She was a genius, she didn't need a trauma counselor to tell her that, although they did, repeatedly, during her hospital stay.

She was just so done. So done with the poking and the prodding. With her mother making decisions without consulting her, with Ray deciding what was best. She was an intelligent, independent woman, goddamnit, and she didn't want to be told she couldn't, or she wouldn't or she shouldn't.

Felicity, and Felicity alone, was the only one who got to decide those things!

So, when, not even six hours after being released from the hospital, a man knocked on her door, she did something reckless. Something she never would have done if she had been her old self. The one that wasn't a broken, miserable mess fighting to take back the control that had been ripped from her.

She never could have imagined how that one stupid, reckless decision would change her life, and she didn't care at the time. All she knew was it was a decision she was making on her own. The first she'd made since her accident. And, if it pissed off her mother and Ray, all the better.

Oliver Queen, former billionaire playboy and current hungover mess, knocked on her door, crumpled newspaper in his hand. He leaned against her doorframe looking down at her in her chair and smiled.

"You still need a roommate?" he'd asked, holding out the newspaper to her.

Confusion wrinkled her brow, as she took it, slowly uncrumpling and reading the ad. It wasn't for her apartment—she'd never taken out an ad looking for a roommate—it was for her upstairs neighbor, but Felicity didn't tell him that.

"Yes," she'd said, ignoring the protests of her mother and Ray, who had brought her home from the hospital and then stayed. Like she didn't just want to be left alone. She glanced back up at Oliver, a charming, if melancholic, smile on his face.

"Great," he said, walking past her into the living room, and that was it.

She'd kicked her mother and Ray out, saying that she was fine and had a roommate to keep her company now. Despite their worried protests, they'd relented. Ray left with a promise that, if she called him, he'd be there in ten minutes to help her get rid of her new "roommate". Her mother still looked worried, but after Oliver had introduced himself as Oliver Queen, her protests grew unsurprisingly silent.

And then it had been just them and, somehow, it worked.

They'd had rough patches, of course.

Oliver didn't have any money since his mother froze his trust fund and kicked him out of his family home. And, despite talking about getting a job, he came home day after day, drunk and complaining about how every job he interviewed for just, "wasn't going to work for him."

He wasn't the only one with issues, though.

Felicity, who'd still been dealing with pain and depression from the accident, had taken too many painkillers one night, two months into their new living arrangement. Oliver had come home from... wherever he went, and found her having an argument with a hallucination in the living room. He'd called her doctor—to this day Felicity could remember the frantic sound of his voice asking if he needed to take her to the hospital. When the doctor said to keep an eye on her, Oliver had sat beside her in her bed all night, not dozing off even once until the meds left her system.

After that, Oliver didn't come home drunk anymore. And he didn't stay out as much either. And sometimes, if she was lucky, he'd even cook her dinner. Playboy Oliver Queen making her chicken cordon bleu for dinner was another one of those things she'd never expected, but it was a nice surprise.

Slowly, very slowly, their relationship began to change. They went from being reluctant roommates to... friends. Felicity eventually began to pull herself out of her depression, to which she credited Oliver's quiet support. In turn she helped him battle his insecurities, as well.

They were a good team. From day one he'd treated her like the old Felicity, the genius who could do anything she set her mind to. He didn't hover or baby her. He knew she was strong enough to handle things, but let her know, in no uncertain terms, that he'd be there if she needed him.

That was around the time she discovered she'd been developing a massive crush on Oliver Queen, but there was nothing to be done about it. Sure, he was nice to her, he cared for her. They were friends, best friends even. But she was also in a wheelchair and, while Oliver never seemed to let that color his opinion of her, Felicity knew it might be too much to hope he'd see her as more. As someone he could be with.

Hell, Oliver wasn't a relationship kind of guy to begin with. Just the thought of him settling down with anyone was almost too much to fathom. But with her... it was unthinkable.

No matter how much Felicity fantasized about it, she never dare let herself actually hope for it.

So, when Felicity woke up Valentine's Day morning, and wheeled herself into the bathroom, she was stunned to find dozens and dozens of pink post its stuck to her mirror in the shape of a heart, tiny handwritten notes on each of them.

She read them all, starting with the one in the very middle that had "Say yes. Here's why..." scrawled across it in Oliver's clunky handwriting.

The outer edges of the heart started out benign.

"Because I know my Chicken Marsala is your favorite meal."

"Because I know that you secretly liked Jar Jar Binks in the prequels and I don't judge."

"Because I'm willing to give you the last scoop of chocolate chip mint."

The notes got more serious as she got down towards the bottom. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she read them.

"Because I love that you're always the smartest person in the room."

"Because when you smile I feel like all the bad things don't matter quite as much."

"Because somehow you've become the best part of me."

The last note, the one on the very end of the tapered point at the bottom, was simple. There were only four words written across it, but they made Felicity's heart constrict painfully in her chest as she read them.

"Because I love you."

She sat in her bathroom, trying to process what it all meant. She had an idea, of course, but her insecurities kept bubbling up, telling her she had to be mistaken somehow. That this wasn't for her, or it wasn't from Oliver, even though he was the only one it could be from.

Then she spotted the lone post it in the corner of the mirror. Stuck up near the lights at the top. It said, "Don't worry, I'll take these down. - O."

For some reason, THAT is when she started crying. All of the other notes, all of the confessions, and his stupid thoughtful promise to take down the post its was what broke her.

Felicity wiped her eyes, then wheeled herself out into the living room. As she expected, Oliver was there waiting. She hadn't, however, expected the dozen roses he held in his hand, or the nervous glint in his eye as he watched her enter the room.

The idiot was standing there in his pajama pants, and just his pajama pants, waiting for her. A shirtless Oliver carrying roses? That should be considered cheating.

"Hey." His lips turned up into an anxious smile as she rolled to a stop before him.

"Someone was busy with a project this morning," she teased, fighting the urge to fidget nervously with her chair.

Oliver huffed a laugh and handed her the roses. She teared up again as she held them close to her nose and breathed in their scent.

"Felicity..." he whispered, crouching in front of her chair. His hands were on her knees, and even though she couldn't feel him, she was aware of his touch. Because somehow her body would always know when he was near. It was instinctual. "Will you be my valentine?"

Sucking in a shaky breath, Felicity carefully reached over, placing the roses on the dining table, then covered his hand on her knee. She watched their hands as she tangled her fingers with his.

"I don't know," she said, finally meeting his eye and seeing the uncertainty blossom at her words. "Can you give me any reasons I should?"

A relived laugh escaped Oliver at her joke, and she saw the tension leave his shoulders. "The eighty reasons I left on your mirror weren't enough?"

"They were a good start," she smiled. "But I've always felt actions speak louder than words."

Oliver grinned and it was still as utterly charming as when he'd showed up on her doorstep a year ago, but now it was happiness, instead of sadness, shining in his eyes.

"You're looking for some action, huh?" he laughed, leaning in close. His eyes darted down to her lips and Felicity couldn't help the way her tongue snuck out to wet them.

She leaned in, too, closing the distance until her lips brushed his. "Only if it's with you."

Then he was kissing her and it was like her whole body lit on fire. Every brush of his lips, every panted breath against her mouth, was so intense Felicity couldn't breathe when he finally pulled back.

Oliver rested his forehead against hers. "For tonight," he began breathlessly, "do you want me to make reservations or do you want to stay in and I'll cook?"

"In," Felicity blurted, tilting her head so their lips were touching again. "Let's stay in, in is good."

She could feel his lips spread into a wide smile against her's as she let herself get lost in this moment she'd thought she'd never get.

She'd been so worried, that Oliver wouldn't want her, that he couldn't love someone like her. But, with his warmth and happiness radiating through her, it all felt a little bit inevitable. And maybe it was. Maybe fate had sent him to her door that day so long ago, or maybe it was just a happy accident. Felicity didn't care. All she cared about was that the man she'd fallen in love with loved her back, and, no matter what happened, she'd remember this Valentine's Day for the rest of her life.