if you're feeling it prompt-wise, I'd love to read something you write that has some domestic Oliver/Felicity- watching a movie, washing the car, whatever. Really enjoy your writing!
Arrow Ficlet: just a little lovin’
Many thanks for this ask, Nonnie! This probably isn’t firmly on point with your request, but these two had different plans. I hope you like it regardless.
Titled after the Dusty Springfield song of the same name
Felicity rolled to her side and reluctantly blinked open her left eye. Her first conscious thought was murderous: If we don’t get some blackout curtains on those windows, someone’s going to suffer. With a groan, she shifted back onto her stomach, buried her head in the pillow, and willed for sleep to overtake her. Just thirty more minutes. Bed so good. Sun so bright. Why?
A muffled chuckle from the pillow beside her interrupted what had become Felicity’s Ivy Town morning routine – cursing the sun – and got her smiling in spite of herself. Turning her back to the windows, she scrubbed both eyes open then smiled wider. She would never, ever be a morning person, but it was hard to stay grumpy about the light streaming into the bedroom when it cast a golden glow on the most beautiful sight: Oliver Queen in repose.
She inched closer and studied him. He lay on his stomach; head facing her with one arm shoved beneath his pillow. The other reached blindly for her and settled on her hip; gave it a pat and gentle squeeze. Felicity worked her hand from the sleeve of the inside-out Henley she wore and reached up to trace his features, starting with his lips. At her touch, they parted slightly into a lazy smile.
“Shh, you’re still sleeping,” Felicity whispered.
“Yeah. A dreamless sleep, all wrapped up in a warm cocoon.”
The muscles in Oliver’s face went slack as he allowed her fingers to continue their tour. Full, soft lips. A nose that was somehow both delicate and strong. Lashes dark against his skin. He was ticklish at his jawline just below those adorably tucked little ears, and his stubble had grown longer over the past few days.
Felicity finished her survey with a kiss to the mole at the bottom corner of his mouth. “There.”
Oliver quirked a brushy eyebrow, but his eyes remained closed. A silent question.
“Face still perfect,” she replied.
He laughed and finally opened those eyes; limpid blue and sparkling.
“Hi,” he said, moving onto his side and pulling her flush against him. “I missed you.”
“When? While we were asleep?”
“Mmhmm.” Oliver lightly brushed her hair back from her forehead and placed a kiss there. He then dropped his chin down to level his gaze, and gave her a broad, dopey grin.
“You are such a puppy, Sir.”
Felicity drew back. “Why am I a cat when you’re the one who purrs when petted?” She knitted her brows together and thought for a moment. “If you weren’t all excitement and energy and eager to please, you would definitely be a cat,” she concluded.
“Felicity, last week I found you napping on the couch in a sunbeam.”
“Oh, yeah…that was a great nap.” Felicity stretched languidly, arching her back. She didn’t miss the way Oliver’s eyes darkened when her breasts pressed against him. She lazily stroked a hand across his bare chest. “Okay, I’m a housecat and you’re a pup. Like a YouTube video I once saw; best friends always at play. You know–”
Her thought was interrupted when Oliver suddenly rolled and went up on his elbows to hover above her. “You want to be my best friend?” he asked, smiling down mischievously.
Felicity regarded him fondly and nodded. She did.
“Then what should we do today, friend?”
“This. Only this. But without these,” she said, slipping her hands down the back of his boxer briefs. His ass flexed under her fingers. She pressed her thighs to his hips and gave a little wriggle, eliciting a moan from Oliver.
“Oh, so we’re talking about a ‘best friends with benefits’ kind of arrangement then,” he said, trailing soft kisses from her neck down to her shoulder.
They made slow, sweet love then drifted back to sleep, until Felicity’s rumbling stomach chased them out of bed.
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