So this...isn't going to be anyone's favourite chapter by any stretch of the imagination. But it is one of the first ideas I had for this fic. It's angst-heavy with more than enough colourful language and adult themes. So lets just call this one rated 'M'. I hope you enjoy it?
I own nothing.
I know that we are upside down
It wasn't healthy.
She'd known that from the very beginning. She'd known that her heart would ultimately be the cost of this thing they'd decided to embark upon together.
Together. They weren't really in this together though, were they? It was his body. And hers. Colliding together to the soundtrack of their mutual pleasure.
But they weren't in this together. Because he never stayed.
And he never would.
You kill the lights, I'll draw the blinds
The first time that Oliver stepped inside her home was also the first night that they fucked.
Fucked was such an ugly, tasteless way to describe it. But it was also the most accurate way to describe what had happened.
His hands on her body hadn't held any promises beyond the pleasure that they could bring her. There would be no proclamations of affection or love. Their lips danced together with heat and nothing else. Things between himself and Sara had spiralled out of control after it was Felicity who he'd listened to, after her words had driven him to go against Slade alone. In the end it shouldn't have mattered. He didn't face Slade that day and Thea had made her way home all by herself.
But it had mattered to Sara. And although she'd never admit it, it had mattered to Felicity as well.
His life had once again crumbled at his feet and why he found himself in her bed was anyone's guess. But he didn't love her. And he didn't pretend to.
Once they were both done, he left her bed and dressed unhurriedly. There were no kisses goodbye or words of gratitude.
He simply left.
She didn't cry herself to sleep that night. Really, she didn't.
They didn't talk about it the next day. Or any of the days after that. Nothing changed. They were still partners and friends. They were still a part of a team.
The fact that nothing changed should have bothered her. And maybe it did. But she'd never admit it.
I know that we were made to break
So what? I don't mind
Don't dull the sparkle in your eyes
The second time happened the night that Sara killed Roy.
Oliver had promised that he wouldn't allow his protégé to be hurt by any of them. He'd sworn that he wouldn't allow it to come to that. Felicity had seen Sara's refusal to agree and Oliver had ignored it.
The fight had been brutal and had ended with Roy dying in Thea Queen's arms.
The fight afterwards in the basement had been even worse. Sara had shown no remorse as Oliver had raged and torn his way through the lair. Equipment lay broken everywhere as he advanced on Sara with a scary fire in his eyes. Dig had stood by silently, furious with both of them.
"I did what needed to be done." Sara announced.
Oliver had bellowed his rage and Felicity had stepped forward and placed her hand around his wrist. Her eyes remained on his face as she spoke for all of them.
"Get out, Sara. And never come back. You want to be an assassin so badly? Go back to the league." Felicity spoke coldly.
He came through her window that night and was buried to the hilt mere moments later. He stayed the night, technically. Not because he slept or they cuddled. But because he spent several hours devouring her in a desperate attempt to forget.
He slipped out just before the sun had fully risen above the mountains. Felicity watched him leave, staring at the door through which he'd gone until sleep finally took her.
Doesn't mean we're bound for life
Are you gonna stay the night?
They fell into a pattern.
He spent more nights in her bed than in his own. But he never stayed. Never.
He showed up whenever Thea's grief became too much. He stopped by when Slade made a move against them that they weren't prepared for. He climbed in through her window when the nightmares became too hard to sleep through.
There was nothing soft or kind about the way that they spent their nights. He was there to block out the worst parts of his life. He used her body and after the first few times she began to respond in kind.
Because they may be a team and they be friends. But they weren't in this together.
Are you gonna stay the night?
I know that we were made to break
They beat Slade. Just barely.
The final battle left them all covered in more scars than they'd like.
He didn't come that night. And that was when she realised for real that she was alone in this. Because they'd both almost died that night. They limped out of the burning warehouse covered in blood and with little sense of victory.
They'd almost died and she wanted to celebrate the fact that they hadn't. She wanted to feel him moving against her and inside of her because they were alive.
But he didn't feel the same way. And he never would.
So what? I don't mind.
I am a fire
He didn't touch her for three weeks after Slade died. They were busy cleaning up the last of Slade's mess and resuming their QC duties.
Things had gone back to normal when Slade's final blow arrived in the form of an email that had been post-dated. She had been at home preparing for another night alone when her tablet pinged. She quickly changed into her tank top and shorts before crossing the room to open the email.
The news that awaited her in the taunting email from Slade Wilson caused her vision to blur. Of course. Even from beyond the grave he was still fucking with them.
She had barely remembered to throw shoes on before she was storming out of her home and driving towards the Foundry. It was late and she knew that Diggle would be at home.
Oliver was asleep on the couch when the door slammed shut behind her. She advanced on him as he jumped to his feet in alarm. She shoved at his bare chest and he sat heavily on the couch. Her hands removed her clothing quickly before she straddled him and tugged his sweats off. His mouth popped open in surprise just before she sank onto him. She began to move against him quickly. His mouth moved to hers but she pressed her palm against his face. He grunted in surprise and she ignored him as she rode him furiously. She came hard and he followed immediately.
She pushed against his chest and his hands dropped from her hips. She pulled away and rose to stand on shaky legs. She pulled her clothes on as he stared at her in wonder. She wondered vindictively how much he liked being used. Her thoughts must have shown on her face or perhaps her brain to mouth filter had once again failed because he was frowning up at her.
She straightened her tank top before meeting his eyes. "His name wasn't Anthony Ivo. It was Anthony Ivenson." His eyes widened. "And he was my father."
Her name followed her out of the lair.
You're gasoline
He waited three hours before crawling in through her bedroom window that night. She was lying awake and made no move to acknowledge his presence. He stood at the foot of her bed, seemingly unsure. Perhaps he was. He'd never in fact been here for any reason other than to get off and get out. They both knew that she had no intention of letting him touch her.
The silence stretched as they watched each other in the darkness. Finally she sighed. "What do you want?"
And wasn't that the question of the hour? Was he there to apologize for killing a man that he hadn't known was her father? Was he going to ask for forgiveness or try to justify his reasons?
"I don't know." He admitted finally.
His words spurred her into action and she was suddenly on her knees, bed-sheets bunched and tangled in her legs. "Of course you don't! You never do!" She snapped. "And you know what, Oliver? I'm sick of it. How did it feel to be used tonight? How did you feel? How do you think you'll feel tomorrow when I don't acknowledge it?"
His chin dropped to his chest but she refused to feel remorse.
"Does it make you feel cheap? Worthless? Maybe it doesn't bother you the same way." She bit out harshly. "Because unlike me, you weren't used by someone you cared about. I treated you like a whore but you don't love me so maybe it doesn't matter." Tears stung her eyes as her brain caught up with her mouth. That was not supposed to be said.
His head snapped up at her accidental declaration and his blue eyes clouded and stormed. His mouth opened and closed twice before her patience snapped.
"Get out." She demanded, pointing to the window he'd climbed in through. He shook his head hesitantly and she growled.
"Felicity, I don't know what you want from me. Jesus, you just found out that I killed your dad and I don't even know how to apologize for that." He paused and ran a hand over his head. "And I never thought about how this was making you feel. I just-" He trailed off.
Felicity sat back on her feet and her shoulders slumped. "You know you've never actually stayed the night, Oliver? You just get what you came for and leave."
Her words seemed to surprise him as he took a step back. Maybe he'd never realised or maybe he simply hadn't cared.
"I'm sorry." She raised an eyebrow. "For all of it. For everything."
She sighed and shook her head. "You should go."
He stepped forwards and reached towards her before dropping his hand heavily to his side. He nodded slowly before moving towards the window. He was halfway through it when she gave him reason to pause.
"Oliver?" Her voice was small and she hated it. He paused and waited. "Don't come back here unless you're prepared to stay the night. This is toxic and I won't do it anymore."
She heard his sigh as he rested his head against the cool window. He was still for a moment before he nodded sharply.
And then he was gone.
Are you gonna stay the night?
They didn't talk about it again after that. Things were a little more tense than usual but they didn't acknowledge it. If Dig noticed, he didn't comment.
They went back to taking down everyday criminals and running QC. Thea slowly moved through the stages of grief before deciding to head to Gotham for a while.
Things were normal. Mostly. His eyes followed her every movement in a way that they hadn't before. She ignored the way her skin heated under his gaze and concentrated on other things. The ball was in his court. She was through chasing Oliver Queen.
It took him three months to come around. It had been a normal day, nothing exciting at the office or on the streets.
And maybe that was what made all the difference. He had no reason to be standing outside her door other than wanting to be there. He wasn't running or angry or upset about anything. He was fine, she was fine, everyone was fine.
And he was here.
His lips twitched upwards as she raised an eyebrow at the small duffel bag in his left hand.
"I'm here for the sleepover?" He inquired lightly and grinned when she snorted in response.
She rolled her eyes but stepped aside to let him into her home.
He stayed with her that night and many nights afterwards. Because they were a team, even if they weren't just friends anymore.
They were finally in this together.
I am a fire, you're gasoline,
Come pour yourself all over me
We'll let this place go down in flames
Thanks for taking the time to read. Let me know what you thought? Thanks!