Too Early
By Bre (dust2dust34)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.
Rating: M
Author's Notes: Part of my You've Gotten Into My Bloodstream Olicity ficlet collection.
Summary: "She was trying. He could tell she was trying, but she wasn't doing a very good job. Her idea of whisper-singing was not the same as, well, whispering."
The response to the last installment blew me away. Every single kudos, comment, favorite, follow, etc. makes my world, thank you! I hope you continue to enjoy what I have in store for these two, I have a lot of short stories planned (including an eventual sequel to "Arrow").
Btw, I upped this collection's rating to Mature because this one got away from me - it is literally impossible for me to not write smut somewhere. I'm steering away from Explicit because sex is not the motivation for any of these stories, but I don't hold back when the time comes (and I still held back). If you think it's past Mature? Please let me know!
I am dust2dust34 on Tumblr, for those who wondered, and if you have any ideas or prompts you'd like me to tackle, I will gladly consider them. My muse is pretty fickle, I can't make guarantees - if I can't work something into a stand-alone story, I'll definitely save it for future use.
She was trying. He could tell she was trying, but she wasn't doing a very good job. Her idea of whisper-singing was not the same as, well, whispering.
"Meet me where your mind won't kiss me… Flick your eyes and mine and then hit me…"
He couldn't help himself.
He smiled.
"Hit me with your eyes so sweetly."
The smile morphed into a full-blown grin.
They had been seeing each other for well over a year now, this stupid crap shouldn't make him smile as much as it did. It was both the most endearing and most annoying power that she held over him - he should be annoyed with her, getting up and telling her to one, get out of the shower and back into bed, two, get the hell out of the shower and back into bed, and three, please stop singing until he'd had at least two cups of coffee.
But he wasn't. God help him, he was happy. He wanted her to keep going, to never stop, to always wake up on the south end of no sleep and be happy enough to get up and shower and sing while doing it.
That she was happy enough to do it at all made him groan at the sappy warmth filling his chest. He loved her so much it was a miracle his heart didn't climb right out of his chest and shove itself into her hands like a grotesque pocket sleeve.
"Oh, you know, you know, you know, that yes, I love…"
Her voice floated out to meet him through the closed bathroom door, still evident over the rush of water colliding with porcelain. He heard the gentle squeak of her foot as she moved, the tiny whistle from her shampoo bottle followed by a thud when she set it down and the water hitting the walls at different angles when she moved.
She was dancing.
In the shower.
"I mean I'd love to get to know you…"
It had been a long night. There was a new drug on the streets, some new players starting a weird anarchist movement in the Glades somewhere and Digg had told them Argus was talking about new reports of a compromised transport near Starling that was - or had been - full of weapons that shot barbs full of poison.
It had been a night of frustration and anger, one of the rare ones where the full scope of his city and his inability to keep it all fully protected caught up with him.
They hadn't gone to bed less than three hours ago, and they had seriously talked about not going into work today, but there she was, up at - he arched his head to squint blearily at the alarm clock – 6:36 in the damn morning.
"Do you ever wonder… No, no, no, no, you girls never know. Oh no, you girls'll never know…"
She continued through the chorus, and Oliver was rolling out of bed before he could think about it. He followed her voice, shoving his boxers down his hips, stepping out of them when he reached the bathroom. He scrubbed his face, blinking himself more awake, lips tugging up in another smile as she continued singing to herself.
He opened the door silently, moving into the steamy room before too much cold air could come with him and closed it behind him. He leaned back against it, just listening to her, letting her light voice erase the night they had had.
The tenseness in his shoulders and lack of rest coupled with his "self-masochistic grumpy anger," as Felicity called it, slipped away, the shower steam and her voice wrapping around him.
The only reason he'd made it this far and this long was because of her - because of her support on the team, absolutely, but more because of this very thing right here. She was a literal ray of sunlight in his life, and she loved him. For some insane, almost unfathomable reason, she had chosen him. She had gifted him with her heart and her love and because of that, his entire world had blossomed.
She was the reason he was able to get up in the morning and still have hope. She was the reason he kept going without collapsing under the weight of expectation and insanity. She helped him shoulder the immense burden of the city that he carried everywhere he went, that they all shared in equal part, but if anyone were to sit down and ask him, he would say she carried the most, because she helped him with his part with as much vehemence as she did her own.
She was his compass, the light that guided him, that reminded him that he could do this after all, that he wasn't going to fail.
The reason for his continued existence was singing and dancing in the shower, belting out lyrics in not-very-quiet whispers and he smiled.
God, he loved her.
"You girls never know, oh no, you girls'll never know, no, you girls never know, how you make a boy feeeeelll…"
Oliver crept up to the shower, tugging back the curtain just enough to peek in on her.
Her eyes were closed as she sang. She was in the middle of rinsing shampoo from her hair, suds cascading down her body in heavy rivulets, slipping between her breasts and down her stomach, rushing across her hips and down her thighs. Oliver licked his lips, watching her with hooded eyes as she moved, dancing in time with the music only she could hear.
Her body swayed. She rinsed her hair in rhythm with her singing, her breasts bouncing and hips ticking from side to side…
He had never lacked for sex drive. He liked sex - a lot - and he was always ready to go whenever the opportunity arose. It was the guiding force in his life and how he had lived it before the Gambit had gone down, and he definitely hadn't lacked for partners when he'd come back.
That is, until Felicity.
If he'd thought he'd been insatiable before, he was very, very wrong.
Everything about her spoke to him on a cellular level - they were magnets, and he was completely unable - and unwilling - to ignore it. She just had to look at him in that certain way that was reserved for him and him alone, or blush that bright red that left her skin pink for a few minutes after, reminding him just how far that blush went down.
He couldn't stand going longer than a day without having her in some way - whether that was her bent over her desk in the foundry, or on the washing machine when she was wandering around looking for a specific blouse in only a skirt and bra, or when he'd slipped his hand up said skirt and had his fingers buried inside her against the wall of the executive elevator at QC. He still had yet to live that down because she'd nearly had a panic attack afterwards wondering if she'd cut off those cameras going to the downstairs desk or not, to which he always cheekily replied she hadn't cared much at the time.
And then glared at him, and she blushed, and it started all over.
He always wanted her.
And they'd been too tired to do anything when they'd got home a few hours ago.
"You girls never know, oh no, you girls'll never know, no you girls never know…"
She turned and rinsed her face, still whispering the lyrics into the water, giving him a very generous view of her ample ass.
"How you make a boy feel… how you make a boy…"
And then she did a little shimmy, and he was done for.
Oliver pulled the curtain back and said, his voice rough with lack of sleep and early-morning arousal, "I think I can lend my opinion on that."
A startled squeak erupted from her as she spun to face him with wide eyes - she'd collapsed right into bed last night, barely removing any clothes or makeup, and there were black mascara smudges still all around her eyes that made her look sexier than hell.
Her hand flew to her chest, and she nearly slipped face-first into the wall.
Oliver's arm around her waist caught her before she went anywhere and she scrambled against him for purchase.
"Oh my god, you scared me," she breathed.
"Sorry," he rumbled gruffly, pulling her flush against him. She was warm and slick and he wrapped his arms around her. He hummed her name, rubbing against her like he was a damn cat. The combination of the overexertion last night, an entire lack of sleep, and being in the warm shower with the woman he loved was having a very lazing effect on him.
On his mind at least. Other parts of him were very awake.
She held onto his shoulders as he bent down to press his face to the crook of her neck.
"I didn't wake you, did I?" His hips moved against her of their own volition and she let out an involuntary giggle. "Well somebody is definitely awake."
"Mmm," he moaned against her. "You smell good."
She chuckled, and he shook his head, wondering how she was so damn perky.
He slipped one hand down to curve around her ass, kneading it as he pulled her closer, making her gasp.
"Too early," he mumbled into her neck.
"Yes, it is," she said, nodding in agreement. "Which is why I…"
Her words faded away when his hand continued moving, sliding down her thigh until he hooked her knee and lifted it so it was hitched over his hip, leaving her open to him. She gave him a tremulous breath, her nails digging into his neck muscles as she lifted herself onto her toes to match his height. He responded by rubbing his beard against the delicate skin of her neck and she arched her head back to give him more access, mewling under his ministrations, making every inch of him tighten in anticipation.
Oliver picked her up and pushed her against the wall.
"Oooh, cold," she gasped and he grunted another apology, his mind growing fuzzier and incapable of thinking of anything past the fact that she was in his arms, warm and alive and the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, eager and open for him to do anything he wanted to her, and everything was right with the world for these few minutes.
Oliver slid her higher up the wall, water beating against their sides, and her legs wrapped around his waist. He leaned forward, nuzzling his face between her breasts and she pulled her legs tighter, pulling him closer to her as she pressed her face to the crown of his head. His erection slid in the wetness between her legs, gliding across her center, making her hips jerk forward with a sharp moan.
He didn't waste a second, finding her entrance and he pressed into her, sliding her down the wall simultaneously. Felicity's mouth hung open in a breathy gasp, and he leaned forward, his lips dancing across her neck, his nose ghosting over her pulse point.
She moved to find his lips the same time he did.
The kiss was sloppy and disjointed and perfect.
Keeping her anchored to the wall, Oliver hooked his arms under her legs, pressing them up so she was cradled between him and the cold tile. The new angle had them both gasping as he pulled out slowly, making her whine, before thrusting in to the hilt.
"Felicity," Oliver hissed through clenched teeth, and she scraped her nails across his scalp. He smashed his lips against hers again, pulling out and thrusting back in with ardor. She moaned and broke the kiss to gasp for air when he angled his hips to hit her clit, rubbing against her in short, hard circles, her silken walls clamping around him. He groaned her name, moving faster.
"Oh god," she gasped, her fingers digging into him painfully as he pushed her further, the only thing that existed in his world being her, pleasing her, only her. "Oliver, Oliver, don't… don't stop…"
Oliver pressed one leg higher, a choked sound escaping her throat, and his fingers found one of her nipples. His thumb brushed across the hard nubbin. And then he pinched it.
She came apart in his arms, coming with a loud cry that echoed through the small bathroom. It melted into a long moan as she pulled him closer, cradling him to her.
Oliver pressed his forehead to hers, going willingly into her arms, his hips moving faster, chasing his own end, and it came on him without warning, a hot tingling in the base of his spine that exploded through him with a raspy shout of her name.
He wasn't sure how much time passed before he felt the first spark of awareness.
He was suddenly very aware that they were still in the shower, and that the water hitting the porcelain was very loud. It was still warm, crashing against his side unpleasantly, his skin feeling way too sensitive. He rested on her shoulder, his face turned into her neck, Felicity's fingers carding through his hair.
He still had her pushed up against the wall where she was making tiny noises of bliss.
Oliver mumbled something unintelligible.
"Mmm, morning," Felicity whispered, pressing her face to his temple and he sighed, not moving.
"Too early," he grumbled, his eyes sliding shut. He was exhausted, but he was fairly certain he could hold her just like this, pressed against the wall with her legs hiked over his arms, still buried inside her, and be perfectly content.
Felicity gave him a, "Mmhmm," in response.
"Can we go back to bed?" he asked, pressing his lips up until he found her earlobe, which he took between his teeth. She gasped his name, and her walls clamped down around his half-hard cock, making him groan, and he pressed her further into the wall, trying to get closer to her.
"Yes. Bed. Bed is good. I'm a very big advocate of bed and all the wonderful things that come with it."
Oliver grunted something resembling words again and picked her up, turning the water off.
They didn't make it to work that day.
The End
Lyrics are No You Girls by Franz Ferdinand. It was on Spotify while I was showering the other day, sparking this little thing - although I unfortunately didn't get the naked Oliver part. Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.
