A/N: absentlyabbie asked: "Bratva AU - Surrender"
Later, Oliver will chalk it up to bad timing. There's no possible way Felicity could know just how trying his day has been. She's perceptive, but he's an expert at keeping his emotions hidden; she can't be expected to realize just how close to the edge he is.
If she had realized, she definitely wouldn't have put her hand on his arm and given him that impudent smile. And if he weren't so close to the edge, he would've been able to ignore it.
But she does and he is, and over the edge he goes.
He moves faster than he means to—faster than she could be expected to track—and at first, her only reaction to the kiss is a muffled squeak against his mouth. Then she shifts and melts into it, winding her arms around his neck and tilting her head, changing the angle of the kiss (and, incidentally, ending the way her glasses have been pressing uncomfortably against his cheek) as he backs her against the wall.
There's heat. There's passion.
But there's no surrender in it.
Of course there's not. Of course Felicity, who has challenged him every step of the way, doesn't fold in the face of his intensity. She matches him evenly—rakes her nails along his scalp as he fists his hand in her hair, nips at his bottom lip as he slides his other hand up under her shirt—and by the time the kiss ends, he's just as breathless as she is.
"This is a terrible idea," she pants.
It is. It absolutely is.
She's beaten him at his own game more times than he can count. There is literally no way this ends well.
But she's flushed and beautiful and every inch of her is still pressed against him, and in the end, he's only human.
"I don't care," he says.
She grins, incandescent. "I was hoping you'd say that."
This time, she kisses him.