Because I accidentally wrote this and Lit complained that it wasn’t what she asked for...even though she also kind of asked for that.
Thea/Nyssa+Oliver | G | ~250 | Fluff
Oliver doesn’t wake up when the bed shifts.
The presence is too familiar and Nyssa has sworn not to kill him while he slumbers.
They must share a bed chamber, despite what either one of them wants.
So it’s a surprise when he wakes to find his sister in his marital bed, his wife curled around her possessively.
One of Nyssa’s arms is tucked under Thea’s neck, supporting her, while her other comes around Thea’s side.
Oliver isn’t sure what to think when he sees where her hand goes, tucked into the waistband of Thea’s pajama bottoms.
It looks so…innocent, despite the circumstances.
“Thea,” Oliver whispers, and his sister makes a little noise of annoyance at being woken up, peeks open an eye.
“Ollie?” she answers, voice rough with sleep. She blinks, then gestures at him lazily.
Oliver smiles at her, shaking his head, and Thea frowns at him.
Meanwhile, Nyssa lifts her head from where her face had been shoved into the back of Thea’s hair, assessing the situation. She gives Thea a squeeze, presses a lazy kiss to the girl’s neck, then settles back down.
“Come on,” Thea whispers, and this time she reaches out to tug Oliver towards her and Nyssa.
With a long-suffering sigh, he turns, letting Thea tug him closer, his back to her chest.
Thea makes a pleased sound, though, and Oliver doesn’t even care that his sister is sleeping with his wife.
Because, in this moment, Thea is happy, and that’s all he’s ever wanted for her.
Nyssa’s nostrils flare, obviously dissatisfied with the response. Her posture is stiff and Thea didn’t need Malcolm’s training to read that.
“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” Thea smirks.
She didn’t know an assassin could look so flustered–well, perhaps Thea is being a bit generous with the term. But there is a definite flush at her accusation. “Never,” Nyssa assures, she shakes her head as she is wont to, fixing her hair. “I don’t know how you could’ve come to such a conclusion.”
Thea’s smile grows wider, wickeder. “Mmmhm.” She steps in closer to Nyssa. “You keep telling yourself that.” She’s so close she can feel Nyssa’s body heat.
Nyssa’s gaze flickers to her lips.
Thea leans in, her lips so very close, almost brushing Nyssa’s. She hovers there, the ghost of a kiss between them. “I guess,” she murmurs, “that means you wouldn’t care if I did fuck her.”
Nyssa gasps and Thea pulls away.
“I could kill you,” Nyssa says, trying to regain her composure.
Thea looks far too happy, replying only, “You could try.”
Nyssa’s eyes flash and she moves like an assassin should, quickly and quietly, pinning Thea against the bar.
Thea gives Nyssa this moment to be as possessive as she likes.
