The empty sound of clicking on several keyboards was the most prominent sound radiating through the foundry on the warm autumn night, with the exception of the occasional word from the communication device situated in Felicity Smoak's ear, it was in fact the only noise being made.
Felicity's actions were frantic, having to solely direct and guide not only Oliver Queen as he paraded as the hooded vigilante; 'the arrow' but both Sara Lance and John Diggle also, as they spent their time tracking down the most corrupt criminals in Starling City and bringing about justice.
They were working separately, Felicity being their only connection to each other. She watched them from surveillance cameras on street corners as she continued to tap at her keyboard, hacking into the Starling City Police Department's radio signal with gratifying ease. Sara, only looking like a mass of black leather and blonde hair, was kicking the crap out of a low-life bank thief, not bothering to let him explain himself as she knocked him out with what Felicity liked to call her 'metal sticks of doom.' She didn't need Felicity right now, in fact she rarely did. Sara had this exception skill of beating up criminals without truly knowing what they had done, she didn't need a background check or leverage tactic, she was a loose cannon in the best way possible, and Felicity loved her all the same.
Felicity diverted her attention to Oliver, clad in green like he was so often and riding his pitch black motorcycle at a speed that would frighten the life out of the hacking blonde. She could hear him breathing deeply to remain in control of his anger as he raced after the criminal only two cars length ahead of him, on a motorcycle of his own. Felicity ran the plate of the red bike, learning everything possible about its owner, a certain Bruce Rossetti, wanted on three counts of rape, all girls Thea's age. She had to give the rapist some credit, he was wickedly fast on a motorcycle, but not fast enough, Oliver was catching him up, albeit it slowly, but catching him all the same.
An alert popped up on the furthest left screen of the three perched on her workspace, a robbery down at Star Labs that SCPD had been made aware of. Felicity noted that the police were never going to catch the truck full of experimental drugs, they were too far away and the vehicle was terrifyingly fast. But she knew someone closer to them. "John," she spoke into the air, her voice filling the almost silence of Team Arrow's top secret lair, "truck full of stolen experimental drugs heading your way, their taking the bridge."
"On it," she heard him speak back through her earpiece as he left his surveillance spot, his car roaring to life as Sara jumped in, finished with her low-life. Felicity took this as opportunity to send an anonymous alert to Quentin Lance, telling him when and where to pick up the victim to Sara's ever-present rage, she then hacked into Digg's GPS, allowing him to view where they were in relation to their target.
Silence resumed again, the sound of Digg's big ass car speeding along main roads and the contrast of Oliver's speedy bike speeding through alleys cutting through Felicity's ear and she knew she would fall victim to one of the killer headaches she always seemed to have after a long night helping her precious vigilante-turned-hero family.
And what a family they were. Digg was like an older, wiser and over-protective brother to her, Sara like a big sister that you both envy and empathise with and they got on rather well all things considered. Sara had begun to teach Felicity some self-defence on the sly, not letting Oliver know that she wanted to help in other ways than stuck behind her desk, both all day and night. He was adamant she should not learn how to handle herself, not because he wanted her to fall prey to a psychopath, but because he wanted more than anything to keep her safe. And if he didn't have the excuse that she didn't know how to handle herself, how would he then save her from potential threatening situations and keep her hidden behind a computer screen. He cared too much to let her out from behind her constricting desk, and she both loved and hated him for it.
Then there was Roy, like a younger brother to the blonde, she felt a certain depth of care was owed to him, something she was glad to give, lending him both a loving embrace and her spare bedroom. He was just as protective as Diggle was over her, though when she and Oliver first got together, the elder of the men was slightly more vocal with threats to the green-clad man of what would happen if he were to hurt her in any way, shape or form.
Oliver. Just the thought of him made her legs go weak as she was graced with blinding flashes of what they've done on this very desk, and her work desk, his work desk, his bed, her bed, her couch, the training mats, the cot, the sofa and everywhere in between. It had been nine months of complete bliss if she were honest. Oliver was both kind and firm with her, picking fights and battling against her while simultaneously looking out for her welfare. He was the perfect gentleman around the clock yet still had all the passion of a primitive being by night. He was perfect for her and her for him.
She knew just what buttons to press to get him riled, exactly what to say to calm him down, heck; she even knew just how to prep him for the strenuous task of saving their city. Oliver knew that without her he couldn't function properly. Since the island, every girl before her was just a desperate attempt to feel something other than rage or vengefulness. He was darkness, Lian Yu taught him that much. On some days he became so consumed by the black inside of him that he became less than human, an almost primeval being. But then there she would stand, with a bright dress, a warm smile and an understanding gaze, it was in those moments that he realised just how dark he was, and just how light she was. They were the perfect contradiction, and neither would want it any other way.
Felicity was brought out of both her not to PG rated thoughts and unstoppable force of typing by the alert on her phone, a warning from Lance that the long-planned task of taking down a drug circle was commencing in half an hour. She looked to the screen to her right, Oliver was catching on the punk, almost on his tail, but she knew that when he caught him, there'd be questions, time consuming questions. And that son of a bitch needed to be taken down.
"Oliver?" She questioned him, turning to hack into the phones of the known drug dealers they were planning to bring to justice, "the deals going down in half an hour."
She heard him grunt down the line, both of them knowing now that he couldn't make it in time, "Where's Sara?"
"With Digg, they're chasing down some experimental drugs, including the new batch of Truth Serum that really shouldn't get into the wrong hands." As she spoke, she clicked away at her keyboard, pulling up the list of missing drugs Star Labs had just finished writing.
"Are they-?" He didn't finish his sentence, instead putting his energy into serving the oncoming lash of bullets his enemy was firing. It didn't matter, Felicity knew what he was going to ask.
"No they won't be done in time, what do you want me to do? The police aren't equipped to handle this one alone."
She could almost hear his contemplation, and when she heard his sigh, she knew what he was going to suggest, "Send Roy."
She clicked their communication onto mute after that, sending a quick text to Roy who was upstairs working. They had a perfectly fine tune nowadays, she would type 'downstairs' to him, and if it were urgent, they had a code word – or words, - 'mint choc chip.'
As she waited for him, noting that her team were all safe for now, she sat back in her chair, trying to calm her nerves. And that's when she noticed the splash of green on the edge of her desk. On a closer inspection she found out just what it was; Oliver's mask.
Felicity clicked back onto her line with Oliver, hearing him wince as she simultaneously saw a bullet skim across his calf muscle, "did you know that you've forgotten your mask?" She asked him almost mockingly, holding the detailed piece of fabric in front of her.
"Shit," the vigilante replied, remembering that he grabbed his helmet instead, not even thinking about what would happen after he caught the rapist he was chasing.
"When you catch him…"
He cut her off instantly, both valuing and avoiding her optimism, "If I catch him."
She corrected his correction of her instantly, "When you catch him, stick in the shadows and I'll loop over any footage that could be enhanced. Although it's going to be a hell of a lot more work for me."
"I'll make it up to you," he insisted, swerving down another alley, hot on the other bike's taillight, "how about a bottle of your favourite red wine?"
She thought for a while, still holding the scrap of green material in her hands, "only if you drink it with me." She replied, a cruel and teasing smile crossing her face.
"Oh I'm counting on that."
The next thing she heard was the shifting of feat and an awkward cough, she turned abruptly and switched the connection to mute in slight embarrassment of what Roy had just walked in on, although he had caught them doing worse, "you said it was mint choc chip," he urged, waving his phone carrying her message as he did.
"It's time to suit up," she spoke to the younger man, "you ready for your first solo mission?"
A sly smile flashed against him, teeth showing as she knew that he was ready for this, he walked over to the cool glass case opposite Oliver's, where his own red 'suit' hung. He grabbed his mask, turning to notice Felicity playing with a green version absentmindedly, "I think you should have your own one of those," he told her, jerking his head towards her hands.
Felicity giggled slightly as he said it, holding the mask closer to her so she could inspect the small rip forming by the eye, "I don't need one like you do."
Roy crossed the space between them, now stood in front of her, only the desk separating them, "maybe you don't need to hide your identity like we do, but you are a vigilante. You've committed a fair amount of crimes for this cause, enough to get you a long prison sentence. And what's a vigilante without a mask?"
She knew the sentence was rhetorical but she had to reply anyway, "a prisoner?"
They shared a smile before Roy started talking again, "put it on."
"I can't," she scoffed, toying with the mask in her hands, "it's Oliver's and I could rip it more, or damage it and I'll just look stupid and what's the point of looking stupid without a hell of a lot of wine in me? Besides, Oliver might not appreciate me even touching it, he got real sketchy this one time 'cause I touched an arrow, I mean sure that was mostly about my safety but you never know what lies beneath the surface and… 3… 2… 1."
Roy looked unmoved by what she had said, most of her words barely registering with him, "shut up and humour me."
Felicity looked from him to the green mask, biting her lower lip in a lost thought. She had always wanted to know what it felt like for the others behind a mask, whether it made them feel less human or indestructible. She desired the knowledge of how anti-law they felt beneath the fabric. And with one final look at Roy, she slipped it on, pulling it around her head and flicking her ponytail out from under the back of the tie.
Roy smiled, pleased with what he saw, "how do you feel?"
"Self-important," she spoke back softly, "in a good way though, like I really am saving this city."
If Oliver were here he'd say something like, 'you are saving this city Felicity, I couldn't do this without you,' but then again, he wasn't here so instead she was returned with an equally as satisfying reply, "well you look hot."
And that's when she left Roy to change and take down the drug circle with Lance's help, simultaneously watching him and Lance, Sara and Digg, and then Oliver as he beat the shit out of a low-life rapist.
It was an hour later when Sara and Digg came on over their communication frequency, letting everyone know they were heading home, Sara not even bothering to change. Roy then spoke up, wanting to stay out for a couple more hours to take down some unimportant jackasses causing trouble every night down in the deepest and darkest area of the Glades. Oliver however, wanted to get back to the Foundry, shake off the anger and kiss his beautiful girlfriend's bright pink lips.
When he returned, the sight was familiar. Felicity was sat as usual at her desk, typing away at her computers trying to wipe any footage of Oliver that could be enhanced, there was nothing unusual until he went up to greet her, silent as ever.
He placed a hand on her shoulder innocently, forgetting just how light on his feet he was and causing her to jump out of her seat, a hand held to her heart as if she needed to hold it in place, "Oh my god, Oliver! Can you at least try and make some sort of noise?"
Her question never quite reached him; he was too distracted by the band of green running across her eyes, something that Felicity herself had forgotten about. Something in his stomach twisted as he took in the sigh of her clad in something so specific to him, he felt a surging urge of possessiveness towards her in that instant, drinking in the welcome sight of her branded with his colour.
Then came the negative thoughts, mindless impulses of her in something so dangerous, something that hid her from the world. This didn't sum up his Felicity; she was bright and unexplainable, too open and honest with her heart on her sleeve. She shouldn't be hidden behind a mask, there was nothing too dark that she had to keep closed, at least nothing he yet knew of.
Oliver quickly put those thoughts to rest, she wasn't in danger right now, she hadn't just risked her life to go out and save the city, he had. He was the darkness, he had the graze of a bullet on his calf, he was the one who wore the mask, at least in front of everyone but her. Oliver didn't need to hide behind anything when he was with her, no matter how many stories he let her in on about his time away, she only ever saw the bright side. He killed Ivo in cold blood, it was to save him. He left without his fellow prisoners, you went back for them. He's killed time and time again, and it's taken its toll on you Oliver, you're not a murderer.
It wasn't until she realised what Oliver was staring at that Felicity's hand flew up to the mask, muttering incoherent babbles about forgetting it was there and only meaning to try it on. And it wasn't until she began to lift it off of her head that Oliver's hand clamped around her tiny wrist, holding it in place.
"Leave it on," he spoke huskily, the possessive thoughts returning as he realised that this beautiful, breath-taking and magnificent woman stood before him was his, and he was hers, and he wouldn't want it any other way.
His lips crashed down on her bright pink ones with herculean force, knocking her backwards onto the glass desk, keyboards slamming into one another as he took possession of her thighs, lifting her onto the surface before him. He murmured into her open mouth, breath mixing, and the words were almost masked, "God, I love you Felicity."
Her hands pushed against his chest almost instantaneously, no force being added on her part but Oliver took a step back automatically anyway. He was confused at first, thinking it was shock of what he had said, not that it would've made much sense, he told he the same thing at every moment he could, showering her in different renditions of 'I love you.'
"If you love me, then you love my tech," she began, her eyes conveying just how hard it was for her to keep him at arm's length, "and do you remember what happened last time we did that on this desk, two screens and a keyboard broken, it was heart-breaking, and I mean it's not that I don't want to, I do want to, like a lot, and it's always really hot when we do it on a desk, not that it's not hot on a bed or elsewhere 'cause it is, I mean you really know what you're doing, and I've strayed off topic, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, but can we please move somewhere less-"
He cut her off with his lips, pulling her legs around his waist, leaving her to wrap the long, toned limbs tighter, pulling him into her. Their lips parted only so he could place perfectly positioned kisses along her jawline, down her neck and across her collarbone. His hand found its way around to her back, slowly pulling down the zipper of the electric blue dress she had worn to work that day as he walked them over to the cot in the corner of the Foundry.
When he got there, he lay her down gently, pulling the constricting fabric down her torso as he drank in the sight of her frilly, pink and black polka dot underwear, her eyes still lined in green fabric. Felicity was never one for sexy lingerie, and Oliver was surprised at how little that bothered him. Back before the island, if Laurel even stood a chance at keeping him faithful (and she failed many times) she would have to keep him preoccupied with black skimpy lace and kinky tricks. But what he had with Felicity was different; she was more than just the object of his desire. Sure, he appreciated the way her tight work dresses could clinch every detail of her ass as she bent over to pick up a stray document, he thanked every deity known to man when her dress had a fancy keyhole, giving him a distracting view from his office desk, and he had never been so sure of anything when he realised that he lusted over her to no end, but he didn't need all of that. Her brightness alone was enough to send him over the edge.
While distracted in his thoughts, Felicity had managed to rid him of his green hood and black top, struggling to remove the green leather pants, getting even more restricting as he drank in her perfectly pale skin, watching her blush spread down her neck and between her breasts. He was quick to help her with his pants, chasing the blush with his lips as she laced her fingers into his hair.
"I think I should wear your mask more often," Felicity sighed as Oliver's lips trailed down to the top of her panties.
Oliver tore away the material with his teeth in response, simultaneously unhooking her bra and flinging both off in the same direction as her dress, "I think I'm going to have your own made," he spoke into her left thigh, kissing every inch of skin available except in the place she was wanting him most, "how does bright pink sound?" he asked, picturing her in a mask matching the colour of her lips and smiling.
"I would let you dress me in whatever you like if you'd just stop teasing," she replied, fisting his hair in her hands with great force as she moaned, feeling him press a soft kiss between her thighs.
His lips then latched back onto hers, tongues battling for dominance. Without warning, a finger was plunged into the wet depths of her core, a keening moan escaping her lips, "do you like that, Miss Smoak?" He asked, plunging a second finger in and beginning to pump.
She nodded and moaned in response as he hit the one spot he knew drove her crazy, his lips moving to a spot just below her ear that was particularly sensitive. He had memorized every detail of her body, not just the scar on her right shoulder, or the way her hips dimpled and curved, but the exact spot she wanted him, the places that could elicit the most inviting moan from between her plush pink lips. He knew her like he knew himself, like she knew every scar and wound he carried.
His thumb pressed against her clit and a heat pooled in her belly as she ran a hand down his toned chest, wrapping a leg around the back of him and pulling him closer. He felt her meet his hand thrust for thrust and knew from experience how close she was, a pride surged through him knowing he could make such a powerful and independent woman crumble at his touch, the light bleeding on his calf completely forgotten as he watched her come undone beneath him.
It was one final pump of his fingers that left her hand scratching at his chest, the other pulling at his hair as she screamed his name in ecstasy. The sound was music to his ears, loud and consuming. Felicity had always been vocal in bed, but with Oliver it was a whole new level of loud, she lay writhing beneath him and muttered, "damn you, Oliver Queen," not quite meaning it as she caught her breath, leaving Oliver watching her with intense blue eyes.
Felicity didn't let her leg leave Oliver's side, using it to push into him, her signal that she wanted to be on top. Oliver flipped them over with one precise movement, leaving the woman of his desire straddling his hips as he removed her hair from its tie, the mask sitting at an odd angle on her nose.
They both liked it better when she was on top, something Oliver would never had thought he would admit to, but there was just something about the way she stepped up into control, he especially craved the way her blonde hair would fall around his head, enclosing them in together away from the world, there was just something so irresistible about being consumed by the floral scent of her soft tresses.
Felicity took this opportunity to leave a slanted kiss on the throbbing vein in Oliver's neck, eliciting a moan from the vigilante. Her hands then found their usual route down his chest, stopping at his hips as her lips followed behind. She took care to kiss each and every scar, the big ones like where he had been struck by an arrow or impaled by a large knife and the small, dagger and bullet wounds all the same. Oliver liked to watch her as she did this, replacing the memories of how he accustomed the scars with ones of her leaving a pink trail in her wake as she lowered his boxers and threw them off with the rest of their clothing.
He knew where she was heading with this, and as much as he welcomed the thought of her pink lips wrapping around the most intimate part of him, he wanted something else more. Oliver latched his hands onto the top of her arms, using them to pull her up as he spoke, his voice brimming with lust, "later."
She didn't argue, from everything she had heard from his past partners, (Sara and Laurel included) she half expected him to be selfish in bed, magnificent all the same of course, but incredibly selfish. She had never been so wrong in her life, there were some nights when by the time it got to the main event, she had come four times and was writhing beneath him, all as a result of his glorious hands and tongue, she swore he would be the undoing of her. Of course there were also nights when he'd come to her apartment after patrolling, battered and bruised but not caring. He'd sneak in through her window and take her, not giving her the time to even breathe as he took her hard and fast and usually against the wall or door, those were the nights of short-lived bliss, when he wouldn't even take off his hood or speak her name, and he'd never stay to cuddle afterwards.
But most nights, he'd woo her with expensive wine, chat to her about trivial things, take her into her room, lie her on the bed and make everything about her, enjoying watching the way she reacted to his touch, hearing her sigh and moan and scream his name. Then he'd hold her, draw lazy patterns across her back as she'd trace his scars with care, listening intently as each night he'd tell her how he accustomed another of them, each night the stories getting more haunting until she fell asleep in his arms, and woke to the feel of his lips on her bare neck.
But right now, it was somewhere in between, rushed and frantic but loving as she lowered herself onto him, blue eyes catching as they watched each other intently. He thrust up as she did down, soon finding the perfect rhythm for their joined bodies, moving in perfect harmony as if they were made specifically for one another.
Felicity's hands rested on his shoulders, digging her bright orange nails into his flesh. "Oliver," she breathed, making his blue eyes stare at her with only more intensity, she moved a hand to brush it over his lips before his head raised to capture hers in a sloppy kiss. He groaned and the sound vibrated through her, a hand working its way to the back of her head, holding onto her hair like it anchored him to the ground. His other hand clamped on her waist, a grip that was bound to leave a bruise that he would feel guilty for later, Felicity didn't mind though, she liked the little reminders that she was Oliver's, that she was the only one he was leaving his handprints on.
Her breath caught as her walls clenched around him, taking him in further with every thrust, a soft sigh escaping her lips that now travelled back down his neck.
Heat that was coiling in her belly began to explode, sending hot shoots down to her core, she was close, but looking at Oliver, he wasn't far off either. She scraped her nails down his neck, moving to plant a sloppy kiss to the side of his mouth before heading to his ear, "with me baby," she whispered, Oliver knowing exactly what she wanted.
He could feel that she was holding on to her orgasm to the best of her ability, waiting for him to catch up, the thought alone was enough to escalate his pleasure, sending him over the edge with a grunt as Felicity bit down on his shoulder as she followed closely behind. He slammed into her one final time for good measure as she collapsed on top of him, both thoroughly pleasured and exhausted.
Oliver dropped a small kiss to her bare shoulder as he lifted her off of him, placing her on her side next to him, wrapping her in his arms as she intertwined their legs. Felicity sighed, breathing in the smell of him as she fingered a burn mark on his torso.
"Definitely wearing a mask more often," she spoke quietly, not having the energy to raise her voice over a whisper. She tore the mask off of her after that, barely feeling the difference between having the material there and her skin open to the elements.
"I'm definitely having you one made, you'll have to wear it while you hack," Oliver replied, subconsciously drawing a pattern on her bare back.
She giggles as he hits a particularly sensitive part of her lower back and he moves his hand back up, a callused finger running over her only scar, from the bullet she took for Sara, "I'm thinking it has to be pink, maybe with binary over it, I'll have to have my own code name, not anything sexy 'cause I won't be able to pull that off, maybe something more suited to what I do, which is definitely not kick ass…"
Oliver cut her off with the feel of his laughter vibrating through his chest and he placed a kiss to her forehead, she moaned slightly in satisfaction, suddenly finding it hard to keep her eyes open as she notices Oliver's pulled the sheets up to cover them, "sleep baby, we can think about it tomorrow."
She nods into him, muttering "the keyboard," as sleep consumed her.
Oliver smiled, knowing there was no way in hell he was going to let her be branded with such a bland code name, letting sleep take him too in the feeling of pure love and bliss.
