Discover Top Posts Tagged with #smoaking-greenarrow

Mistletoe Exposure

To @smkkbert from @smoaking-greenarrow Happy holidays.

Answers.

She has to have them. A full week of searching, sleepless nights, and a nagging need to know the truth. One of the worst things in the world, for Felicity Smoak, is a mystery. She hates them. She hates them even when they don’t involve her, but this…this is personal.

Smoothing her dress, Felicity takes one last look in the mirror. The only thing she hates more than mysteries is a holiday party. And Queen Consolidated throws the most expensive, over the top, ridiculous ones. The only time she’d gone had been her first year working at QC, and that was only because she was incredibly curious to know what the Queen mansion looked like on the inside.

Looking up at the massive castle-like thing now, she wishes she’d made someone come with her. Walking into the mansion alone, knowing what she believes is true, feels a lot like entering the lion’s den. Completely unarmed. Prey.

Felicity shakes her head and pushes her car door open, her heels clicking along the pavement as she walks up the driveway, foregoing the offered valet parking. If she’s going to confront something like this head on, then she needs to have her keys in hand. An easy escape.

When she reaches the mansion and finally steps inside, her eyes fall on John Diggle, head of Queen security. He meets her eyes, and she swears she sees recognition color his eyes before he masks it. Her breath catches in her throat, her mind racing. She knows exactly who he is, from some in-depth research, but why would he know her?

As quickly as their eyes had met, Mr. Diggle looks away, turning to some of the guests, continuing a conversation as if he hadn’t noticed her at all. She watches him for another moment, handing her coat off but keeping her clutch tight in her fist.

Time to face the lion.

Her eyes scan the crowd, searching for him. Felicity lingers when she notices his sister and mother, speaking lowly in a corner of the dance floor, and clocks the tension between them. And then she moves on, glancing at every face close to the Queen women, assuming that Oliver wouldn’t be far from them.

Before she can find him, she catches Tommy Merlyn out of the corner of her eye. His eyes are already trained on her, and he has a drink in each hand, looking unreasonably handsome in his tux. He smiles, heading straight for her.

Oliver Queen’s best friend. Of all the scenarios she’d played out in her head, handling his best friend had not been one of them.

Stiffening, Felicity watches, forcing a natural smile in return.

“Hey there,” he greets her, offering one hand with a flute of champagne. “I’m Tommy Merlyn. And I assume that you must be the wife or girlfriend of some lucky jerk here tonight, because if Ollie has a woman as beautiful as you working in that building, I’m going to have to kick his ass for not introducing me.”

Felicity laughs, shaking her head at his boyish grin that probably got him very far with the ladies. “I’m nobody’s wife,” she scrunches her nose, taking a sip of champagne. “Or girlfriend. I do work at QC, but I doubt Mr. Queen would remember me. I work IT.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow, his smile ticking up a notch, “gorgeous and smart…I’ll have to be on my best behavior to make sure I don’t screw this up.”

“And what this are you referring to, exactly?”

His smile widens, tossing her a playful wink, “me getting you to dance with me.”

She chuckles again, “are all of you Starling men this charming?”

“No,” Tommy shrugs, smiling at her. “Oliver mostly just grumbles and broods. I’m definitely the charming one.”

“I can tell. Felicity, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Felicity. And let me just say that I am incredibly happy you’re here.”

Felicity cocks her head to the side, “why’s that?”

“Because tonight was looking very, very boring until I saw you walk in.” He smirks.

She wasn’t sure if Tommy stayed by her side after that because he felt bad, or because he planned on trying to take her home, but she was happy about it either way. She truly had no idea what she would do, aside from confront Oliver Queen. But even then, how? And when? The smart thing to do would have been to walk in prepared for such things, but she’d been far too nervous.

It’d taken her a week to solve a mystery that had been right under her nose for months. And she couldn’t exactly plan her attack, not when she had no idea what she’d be walking into tonight. Did she pull Oliver aside and ask him point-blank? Did she try to question people like Tommy, or Thea, or Moira? Figure out how much they know before she addressed the man himself? Or did she simply come and observe, decide for herself what the truth was and leave it at that?

Felicity is so in her own head; smiling, nodding, and laughing as Tommy rambles on about the bar he recently purchased, she doesn’t notice the giant presence come up behind her. She feels the heat of his chest near her back where she sits at the bar beside Tommy, but she doesn’t realize he’s there, or that it’s him, until he clears his throat.

Her back stiffens, tilting her head to the side to glance at Oliver Queen. He grips the bar in one hand, leaning against it casually, but she can feel the tension rolling off of him. “Tommy,” he mumbles, meeting her eyes. “Thea’s looking for you. I think she wants a dance.”

“Ollie,” Tommy waves him off, gesturing to her, “this is Felicity Smoak. She works in the IT department.”

“Good evening, Ms. Smoak,” Oliver leans a little closer, not taking his gaze off of her. He knows damn well who she is. With a hint of mischief sparking in his eyes, he lifts his chin. “Enjoying the party, I hope?”

Pinching her lips together, she lets her eyes drop to his lips, his chin, his neck and the stubble that dusts his skin. Familiarity hits her, having him so close. Even the way he smells screams at her that her suspicions are right.

He raises an eyebrow, offering the same knowing, playful grin she’d seen on his face the day he officially introduced himself. Felicity Smoak? Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.

“Of course,” she breathes, her eyes darting back up to meet his. “It’s a beautiful party. With great company,” she smiles at Tommy again, fidgeting a bit. “I’m having a wonderful time.” He watches her, looking down his nose, brazenly focusing on her red lips. And his mouth twitches with a slight smile.

He knows.

He knows exactly why she was so intent on his mouth. And he’s doing the same to her.

“Would you like to dance with me?” Oliver whispers.

Despite the way he’s looming over her and despite everything she knows about him…Felicity swallows, and then she nods. Oliver stares at her for one more moment before stepping back and offering his hand.

“Oliver,” Tommy huffs, “you don’t dance. Especially not at these things.”

Felicity raises an eyebrow at that, her hand still in Oliver’s. And the only response from his best friend that Tommy gets is a playful wink in his direction. She bites her lip, waving to Tommy as she follows Oliver into the crowd of people.

He keeps towards the edge, near the door as if he’s allowing himself an exit if need be. Or maybe he’s doing that for her.

Turning, Oliver gracefully wraps an arm around her waist, cradling her other hand to his chest. She’s a little surprised by the way he holds her. Gentle and secure. Almost protective; his broad chest grazing her as he sways, his hand slipping down her bare back until he reaches the bottom of her spine.

Felicity feels her skin flush, her whole body growing warm as a shiver runs through her. And he’s silent for a long moment, his pinky finger toying with the low cut on her dress. But then he presses his cheek to her hair, his lips outside her ear. “My mother tells me that you haven’t attended a Christmas party here in five years,” he says conversationally. “Although I’m glad you’re here, and I’m certainly not sorry to see you in this dress–red’s your color, Ms. Smoak,” his fingers grip her back a little tighter. “I have to wonder what brings you here tonight.”

His voice is a low, velvety rumble, more like a lover than an enemy. And her eyes slip shut, her body pressing into his further, without her knowledge. Felicity has no idea what comes over her, but reflex has her melting for him. “I heard the party favors are pretty generous,” she whispers back.

Oliver chuckles, his breath blowing through her hair. “Did you come here looking for something tonight, Felicity?”

She nearly moans at the way he says her name, unlike anything she’d ever heard before. “Have you always been so suspicious about people, Oliver?” She asks, since they’re on a first name basis.

Pulling back, he glances down at her face, smiling slightly. “I’m not suspicious of you,” he says, letting her see the honesty written all over his face. “Merely curious.”

“That’s all?” Felicity huffs, giving him a smile and she’s not sure where it came from. She’d been prepared to catch him off guard, hoping an ambush might corner him into giving her the truth. She’d been ready to intimidate, threaten if she had to, just to get to the bottom of her obsession over the last week. So, standing there, dancing with him and getting flirty, is not exactly what she’d expected.

His eyes flicker down to her lips, softening as he watches her.

She doesn’t want to intimidate him. She doesn’t want him to feel threatened or cornered. She wants him to trust her.

“My five years away taught me to be cautious, Felicity. Especially of people. I’ve been betrayed one too many times and it still feels strange to me every day that I’m even here.” Felicity blinks at his words, surprised by his vulnerability.

“Well,” she inhales, feeling her heart hammer in her chest, nerves bubbling to her throat. And strangely, she squeezes his hand, looking up at him and seeking some kind of assurance. Comfort. “I suppose your instincts are fair. I did come here tonight for a reason.”

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t look away. “And what reason is that?”

“I need to know the truth.”

Oliver nods, his hand sliding from her back as he steps away. “Then let’s talk, Felicity.” He takes both of her hands, nodding his head towards another hallway, and she understands what he’s asking for.

Privacy. The decency of not doing this in front of everyone.

And her heart picks up again at the idea of being alone with him. Not just because his sanity is in question, but because there’s tension there, sparking between them like fireworks. Tension of the sexual kind. The non-platonic.

He squeezes her fingers, tugging on her hands slightly, and she feels certain that no matter what, she is safe with Oliver Queen.

One Week Ago:

She really wanted to quit. Queen Consolidated wasn’t the best place to work in the first place, especially not for an underappreciated IT girl. But she was hoping that climbing the ladder in a successful place like this might be a nice springboard towards her own company someday.

Lately though, all anyone could talk about was Oliver Queen. The prodigal son returned.

Add in the fact that she was always the sacrificial lamb to work around Christmas, and she was quite sick of her job. At first, she hadn’t minded, considering she didn’t celebrate the holiday. But in five years, working Christmas had turned into covering all of her coworkers’ shifts the entire week before and after the holiday so that they could take vacations. And now her supervisor practically had her running the department in his absence, yet he didn’t hesitate to take all the credit.

Kicking off her heels under her desk, Felicity leaned back in her chair, spinning it in a slow circle and looking up at the ceiling.

She contemplated what to order for dinner as she spun, debating between Thai food or pizza. When she finally settled on Thai, Felicity turned towards her phone with a sigh, her vision swirling a bit from all of her chair spinning.

Shaking her head, she pulled up her contacts, scrolling through all of her favorite restaurants she had saved on her phone. As it began to ring, a shadow crossing by the office door caught her attention, and she gasped, her eyes flying up to the glass.

Slowly, a figure passed by the door, feet silent and face shadowed under a hood. He would’ve been completely concealed in darkness if not for the strings of Christmas lights in the hallway that she hadn’t bothered to turn off.

She watched enough news to recognize the hunter-green leather.

Felicity froze, not hearing when someone answered her phone. She gripped it tightly in her hand, not moving a muscle as he stalked by, disappearing around a corner.

After everything she’d heard about Starling’s new vigilante, she’d decided that he was trying to do some good in the city, even if his methods weren’t exactly ideal. Although she believed that The Hood wasn’t a bad man, Felicity still felt a chill run down her spine.

A moment later, she was out of her chair. The vigilante might not be evil, but she had no doubt that his presence meant bad things. Violent things. Deadly things. Like an omen.

Knowing how her heels clicked down the halls of QC, Felicity opted out of them, her red nail polish glowing against the tiles as she tiptoed out of her office with her phone in one hand, heels in the other, and her purse strapped to her shoulder.

She made her way quietly down the hall, keeping her ears and eyes alert for whatever had drawn The Hood there.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take her long to find out.

Deciding to go for the stairs instead of the elevator was apparently a mistake. Just as she was about to turn the corner, three men pushed through the door, mumbling to each other about The Hood being in the building. She’d only gotten a short glance at them, dressed in suits just as any other businessman who roamed these halls, except for the guns in each of their hands.

Felicity quickly backtracked, realizing that they were coming her way. She ducked into the billing department, hoping she’d be able to hide in the darkened offices without being seen.

Their voices grew louder while she held her breath and backed further into the shadows, listening as the men argued over where the vigilante could be hiding. Felicity froze when they jogged by the door, none of them even sparing a glance.

She sighed in relief once they were out of sight, turning around in search of the east elevator that she was pretty sure ran right through these offices. Then she’d be home-free. But in her haste, she failed to watch where she was going.

And she bumped into a large chest.

Ready to apologize, since clumsiness was a common folly of hers, Felicity yelped. She wasn’t the one who took the hit the hardest.

Oh, no.

Apparently the employees in billing were really into Christmas. And they appreciated a large, nearly lifelike Santa Claus decoration in the center of their department. Which is exactly what Felicity collided with. The plastic, giant man in red fell with a loud crash.

And just in case the men with guns hadn’t heard that, the hellish thing called out a loud “ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” as it hit the floor.

Then it sprung into an always annoying, but now seriously annoying rendition of Jingle Bell Rock.

“No,” Felicity lurched towards the contraption as it began to dance along with the music. “No, no, no,” She frantically pushed the buttons on Santa’s chest, hissing out a sharp, trying to make it stop. “I always knew you were evil!”

“What the hell is that!?” She heard the intruders yelling from down the hall, their voices coming back.

Panicking, Felicity froze. She could hide, or she could run for the elevator. Either way, she’d be found easily by the men, thanks to the obnoxious decoration that screamed like a beacon, telling them exactly where she was.

Just as the men reached the door, raising their guns and entering with them trained on her head, Felicity heard a slow, sharp metallic sound from behind her.

All she had to do was tilt her head, and she could see a glistening green arrow close enough to her face that it’d scratch her cheek if she turned any more. But it wasn’t pointed at her. The arrow was fixed on the men in front of her, and she guessed that The Hood’s reputation preceded him because the three armed men halted, their eyes widening.

“Behind me,” the vigilante growled, his voice low outside her ear. She guessed that it was sexy underneath whatever modulator he was using. That made him sound kind of creepy. But she had a feeling he had a voice as smooth and sweet as hot chocolate behind the robotic tone. How long had he been in there? Long enough to watch her stumble over Santa Claus and call him evil. She cringed. Embarrassing. “Ms. Smoak,” The Hood huffed, “I said get behind me.”

She flinched. Of course he was talking to her. Felicity turned away from the arrow by her cheek, quickly ducking behind his back, shielded from the guns pointed at him now.

“Drop your weapons,” he demanded, his voice taking on a harsh, deadly edge that he hadn’t used when speaking to her.

Peeking out from behind his leather-clad shoulder, Felicity watched as the man in the middle cocked his head to the side. And then he fired. And his two goons began to shoot, too.

The vigilante turned on his heel in a matter of seconds, grabbing her waist in one movement and firing his arrow in the next. She heard the gunshots, and she heard his arrow piercing through the far window, and then everything became a blur.

She recognized his arms around her, big and strong, which somehow surprised her. He’d always seemed slim, quick and agile when she saw his depiction on the news or heard the stories about what he’d done. But The Hood was huge.

Felicity didn’t have much time to consider his size, because her feet were suddenly off the floor, her head buried in his neck as bullets rang out all over the room. She heard the glass crashing, but she hardly felt it. Her eyes flew open as crisp winter air hit her face. And she shrieked, clutching onto the vigilante tighter as she stared down with wide eyes at the city below.

As quickly as it happened, it was over. They crashed back into QC a few stories down, and The Hood managed to stick their landing with no more than a few scratches.

He landed on his back with a groan, keeping her tight against his chest, gracefully cradling her on top of him. After the glass quieted, Felicity listened to his heaving breath, and she picked her head up from his neck.

A gloved hand reached up, pushing her hair back so he could see her face. A pair of ocean blue eyes met hers, and it surprised her to not only see the silent question in them, but to understand it. Are you okay?

In response, she nodded once, swallowing. The Hood dropped his head back, letting it hit the floor beneath him as he caught his breath. His hands stayed plastered to her waist, and Felicity let them. She’d definitely be sore tomorrow, or once her adrenaline stopped flowing. But for now, she felt perfectly fine. How he’d managed to do that, and leave her unscathed was incredible. “Thank you,” Felicity blurted.

She couldn’t see his face with his head tilted back, but she stared as his lips twitched, fighting a smile. And then he sighed, “we should get you out of here,” groaning again, he leaned forward, and she quickly climbed off of him, brushing herself off while he stood. “It won’t take them long to find us.”

Nodding, she reached for his hand, slipping hers into his leather-covered palm and gripping it tight. He glanced down at her, surprised, but he nodded, leading her towards the door. “Why are they after you?” She whispered as he quickly and soundlessly pulled her along through the building, heading for the stairs.

“They’re hitmen,” he replied with a shrug as if someone putting a hit out on him was like any other Thursday.

The vigilante hesitated as they reached the door to the stairwell, listening, and they both heard the roaring feet, thundering down the flights above as the men yelled to each other, trying to determine which floor they’d landed on. “Service elevator,” The Hood grumbled, pulling her in a different direction.

Felicity followed willingly, letting him guide her down to the end of the hallway. Her eyebrows furrowed, realizing that not many people used the service elevator at QC or even realized it was there. Come to think of it, the masked man seemed to know his way around the building pretty well.

No time to dwell on that though; he pushed the button a few times, “is your car in the garage?”

She nodded, staring at his profile. His jaw clenched under her scrutiny, and she quickly turned away, not wanting to make him squirm after he’d literally saved her life. Maybe she was crazy to feel something when she looked at those deep blue eyes behind the mask, maybe it was insane to think that his fingers were gripping hers in concern, and maybe she was out of her mind for thinking there was something kind and pure in a man who ran around the city using a bow and arrows. A man who had blood on his hands. And maybe if it weren’t for those things, if he were just a nice if not intimidating freak in a mask who saved her in a holiday miracle, she’d be able to let it go. But as she stole another glance at him, Felicity vowed to find out who he was beneath the mask.

When The Hood tilted his head to look at her, Felicity pursed her lips at his tense expression. It was like she’d been thinking too loud. She swore she heard him growl, his eyes so intense and hot on hers. But before either of them could speak, they both jolted at the sound of the stairwell door colliding with the cement wall, and The Hood was quickly grabbing her again, hauling her against his chest and into the nearest offices.

They didn’t have time to hide, not when the gunmen were suddenly running by them, searching the floor. She froze in his arms, plastered between him and the nearest wall he could shove her against, hiding her in another shadowed office.

He kept his gaze on the hallway, and Felicity kept hers on his face. The more she watched him, the more familiar he was becoming. Was it all the staring, or was it because underneath all the leather, he was someone she recognized? The voices began to fade as the men moved down to the next floor, still looking for their target.

As the door closed behind them and silence covered them again, the vigilante let out a long breath, relieved. Felicity watched him carefully, his eyes slipping shut. She had no doubt that he could take care of the intruders in a matter of moments. She’d heard of him surviving much worse than three goons with guns. Yet he fled. He hid. And he stayed right by her side.

His eyes opened to meet hers, another breath blowing gently over her lips, reminding her that he was still very much in her bubble. Shaking his head, The Hood glanced up at the ceiling, and she felt his body stiffen as his eyes narrowed. Slowly, his gaze met hers again, and he gaped at her for a moment, his perfectly sculpted mouth fighting a smile as he bit down on his bottom lip.

And then he laughed.

It was a gentle, barely noticeable sound.

Felicity blinked, shocked. The sight of his smile beneath the shadowed hood seemed so surreal. And there was definitely something familiar about him. Something charming. Very, very handsome.

His eyes wandered up to the ceiling again. This time, she followed his gaze, her breath catching in her throat when she noticed what was hanging above their heads in the doorway.

She didn’t consider herself a very risky person. Her wild phase had come and gone in college. Cooper doused that adventurous flame inside of her years ago. So, it surprised her when she found herself leaning towards the masked killer, a man she knew literally nothing about.

Knew nothing, but felt everything.

Above all, she felt safe. With him...she felt safe. And in that moment, she didn’t care how irrational that might be. She didn’t care about logic.

His eyes widened just before she brushed her nose against his, humming involuntarily at the natural, delicious smell of him, the feel of his warm skin. Everywhere he’d touched her had been covered in leather. But his nose was warm, and she couldn’t control her hand as it lifted to his face, her fingers wanting to feel it, too.

“Felicity…” he whispered slowly, his voice sounding an awful lot like a warning to stop, but at the same time, his hands gripped her waist and his nose nestled her back. She also had no idea how he knew her name or why. But she shoved her curiosity to the back of her mind, focusing on him...as he pulled her closer, her chest flush against his.

And finally, his lips pressed against hers.

The fire she felt was contained. Simmering just below the surface, and she kept perfectly still, her fingers gripping his stubbled cheek, her heart hammering in her chest while The Hood sucked her bottom lip between his.

It wasn’t a burning kiss, but it was passionate. It wasn’t rushed and fiery, it was confident and charged with sweetness. He simply pressed his lips to hers, but it was so, so memorable.

Oliver’s hand is steady in hers, despite her own shaking. It’s not that she’s afraid of him. She’d just expected this to be a little harder. She’d expected to have to interrogate, pressure, or blackmail him into having this conversation. But he’d sought her out, he’d asked her to dance, and now he was leading her away with the assumption that she was about to get answers to all of her questions about him.

They reach the hallway, almost clear from the crowd and free to find whatever private place Oliver has in mind, when Thea steps in front of him, putting a hand on his chest. “Uh-uh, no way,” the young woman crosses her arms, shaking her head and raising her eyebrows.

“Speedy,” Oliver sighs, irritated. He keeps his fingers locked with Felicity’s, her body nestled behind his broad shoulders. And Oliver raises his free hand towards Thea, “not now.”

“Ollie,” she sighs his name with as much annoyance as he had, making Felicity bite back a laugh.

Siblings.

“You’re not running off with some blonde bimbo and embarrassing mom again.” Her voice lowers, her eyes flashing with anger, “I thought that was the old Oliver. You’re supposed to be more mature.”

Felicity’s eyebrows shot up, peeking her head around Oliver’s shoulder to see the tiny, fierce woman who somehow made a man like Oliver Queen back down. She was certain that Thea had a lot of power over her big brother, but how much did she know?

“Thea,” Oliver grit through his teeth, “this is Felicity Smoak. Please apologize for calling her a bimbo.”

Surprisingly, Thea’s eyes widen, glancing at her for the first time. “Felicity Smoak?”

She has no idea why the girl is saying her name like she’s some kind of celebrity, but it’s kind of freaking her out. “One and only,” she jokes.

“My father in law can’t stop talking about you. He thinks you’re one of the best employees QC has to offer.”

“Walter?” Felicity scrunches up her nose, fond of the man who has a habit of calling her desk directly whenever he has a problem rather than the department’s line. It pisses her supervisor off to no end that Walter Steele seeks her out specifically. And of course she finds great joy in that. “He’s a good man.”

Oliver glances back at her, meeting her eyes for a brief moment that seems to say everything and nothing all at once. How he manages to look at her like that, causing a swarm of butterflies in her stomach and soothing it at the same time, is a new mystery for another day. “Speedy,” he finally glances away, shaking his head as he focuses back on his sister. “I need to speak with Felicity alone. Please let mom know I’ll be right back.”

He starts pulling again, trying to sidestep Thea, but she puts her hands up. “Wait!”

With an irritated huff, Oliver waits while Thea scrounges through her purse. “I swear Roy put it in here…oh! Here!” She quickly pulls out a sprig of green mistletoe, presented with a cute red satin ribbon. Smiling coyly and wiggling her eyebrows, Thea shakes it above their heads.

“Thea,” Oliver glares down at her, his jaw clenching.

“Can’t ignore the mistletoe, big brother. I don’t make the rules of holiday traditions, I simply enforce them.”

“Speedy—”

Felicity squeezes his hand, an idea coming to mind that makes her heart race even faster than it has been most of the night. Oliver turns back to look at her again, and his eyes widen as if he can see exactly what she’s thinking.

Raising an eyebrow, Felicity shrugs. There can still be timing for talking. He can still explain. But Thea presents a very obvious, no-bull way of finally settling the truth.

“Now’s the part where you kiss,” Thea complains, “come on,” she shakes the mistletoe above them some more, “my arm’s getting tired here.”

Oliver cocks his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he steps closer towards Felicity. He nods once, like he’s confirming her plan. Agreeing to it. Agreeing to let her finally know the truth once and for all.

Carefully, slowly, tenderly, Oliver holds Felicity’s face between his hands, taking the last step towards her. He swallows, his eyes so hot on hers that she feels the entire room fade, no longer having any concept of the party, or Thea, or the mistletoe hanging above their heads. Tilting her chin up, she parts her lips, holding her breath as she waits. And Oliver leans down, closing the final distance between them.

He tastes like champagne and something sweet, something that she knows is just him. Something that she’s tasted once before. His soft lips press gently to hers, perfectly intoxicating. The curve of his mouth welds perfectly to her own, only the way that lips who have done this before can do.

The kiss is so different. Any reservation he’d held that night at QC, he doesn’t hold back now. It provokes the same fire in her heart, but this time it spreads all the way to her toes.

Oliver pulls back ever so slightly, her fingers clutching onto his shirt, not wanting to let go. “You,” she whispers into his mouth. There’s no question now. No uncertainty or probabilities.

She’s one hundred percent sure that Oliver Queen is The Hood.

He simply sighs, his nose brushing against hers as he nods. Gently, Oliver nips at her bottom lip. It’s not nearly as intense as he’d done it that night at QC, more playful now, almost as if some weight has been lifted. But he confirms, letting her know in his own way as he focuses on her bottom lip, that it was him just the same.

“Well,” Thea’s low, breathy chuckle makes Felicity freeze, heat flushing through her cheeks as she’s reminded that they have an audience. It makes Oliver stiffen for a moment. He turns his head to stare at his sister, keeping every other inch of himself exactly how he is, apparently not ready to let go any more than she is. “Merry freaking Christmas to you two, huh?”

#smoaking-greenarrow

Trending Tags

Recently Viewed Tags

#smoaking-greenarrow