She was so beautiful.

Oliver watched contentedly as her chest rose and fell with each subtle breath, her full lips slightly parted. Messy blonde locks sprawled on her pillow looking like tangible, wavy rays of sunlight, brighter than the ones filtering through the closed curtains. The hills and valleys of her body were covered by a thin white sheet.

He needed to leave. He shouldn't have come in the first place. She needed to be with someone normal, someone who didn't prowl the city at night for criminals to kill. Don't drag her into the darkness, she's seen enough. Stay in your cave and quit bothering her. Even if you don't get her killed, you'll still hurt her, because that's what you do, that's what you've always been good at. Use your destructive little talent to stop the bad guys and leave the poor girl alone.

That's what he'd do if he loved her, right? He'd leave? It was difficult to tell. He really did love her, though, he knew that much. But that didn't mean he knew how to show it properly.

He reached out and caressed her cheek, gently rubbing his thumb across her bottom lip. He shouldn't have kissed her that first time, or any of the times after. Not that he ever regretted any of it; he just knew he shouldn't have.

His fingertips glided down her soft neck and slowly slipped beneath the sheet to voraciously traverse her body. His hand scaled her breast, skimming its hardening nipple before descending into the valley of her stomach, surprised but not discouraged by the hillock it encountered before arriving at the ravine between her legs. She smiled in her sleep and hummed pleasantly as he buried his fingers in her tender pink flesh, messaging her. He kept stroking, smirking at her soft squeals and increasing wetness.

Just as his own arousal began to plead for attention, Felicity breathed his name, her tone amorous. His whole body tingled at the sound, and suddenly his hand was pushing her legs apart and he was on top of her.

At first she thought she was dreaming, and she knew she'd cry if she had to wake up. It was a blur of blissful sensation, her bare skin being explored by a curious hand. His curious hand. Oliver was beside her in bed, making her happy in the way he knew best. The pleasure built and built, his name escaping her lips as the desire to feel him inside her became too much to bear. Then he granted her wish. She purred in his ear, reveling in the sweet pressure of his weight and the friction between their hips.

As she drifted into consciousness, the dream became more real instead of draining away. The heat, the noises, the contact—Oliver was really here. With her, on her, in her. She was happy his face was buried in her neck, because she didn't want him to see her tearing up.

"You're still here," she mumbled.

"Of course I am," he responded before lightly nipping her earlobe.

Then it occurred to her that he could still be leaving soon, and she didn't want that to happen. It had been too long; she wanted a sense of control, she wanted more time.

"I want to be on top." she declared, pushing against his shoulders. He put up a mock fight before obeying and rolling on his back. She mounted him eagerly, sinking on top of him and moaning at the feel of having him so deep inside her. Hands on his lower abs, she bounced, riding him hard enough to wrestle a groan from his throat. He panted and grunted and pressed his palms to her thighs, completely at her mercy.

She was close, but he seemed closer, so hungry for release… so she leaned forward and unsheathed him.

He whimpered. He actually whimpered. She had made the Hood whimper, and it was so delicious that she nearly came.

"What are you doing?" he begged.

"You have a lot of explaining to do." she answered, tracing the star-like tattoo on his chest with her finger.

He gulped. "Now?"

"Yep."

Oliver beamed at her, giggling. "You're a bitch."

"And you're confusing." she responded with a smirk. "We could've been doing this for the past few months, but you told me we should just stay friends. So why are you back in my bed, Ollie? If you just needed me to comfort you, I'll understand. I just want you to admit it."

"Felicity, please…" he whined. "I can't… I can't concentrate… please…"

She gave him a wicked grin before kissing him, drawing his tongue into her mouth and giving it a good suck before sliding him back inside her. Then she went back to riding him like a hostile rodeo bull. He came so forcefully that he cursed, and she came shuddering after. Sopping wet and sated, she lay on top of him trying to catch her breath.

"Admit it," she demanded, panting. Her arms were weak and shaking but capable of propping her up. She loved how hot his skin was under her palms.

"I love you." he said, looking her in the eye.

Felicity gasped silently, her arms almost collapsing beneath her. "That's… that's not what I meant—"

"I love you," he repeated. "I'm bad and you deserve better, but I love you. I had to protect you from me, from what I do. I was so scared. I'm still scared. People I love always get hurt, and I can't let anything happen to you. I wouldn't be able to handle it. But I've missed you so much and I can't do it anymore. I can't…" He sat up and embraced her, one hand in her hair and the other on her lower back. "Please don't be mad at me."

Tears ran down her face as she clung to him. "You love me?"

"Yes," It sounded like he might be crying too. "I shouldn't, I know I shouldn't, and I'm not great at showing it—"

"You're not so bad at it," she countered, her nose touching his as she looked him in the eye. "You just need more practice."

Oliver smiled, and she wished she was wearing her glasses so she could see it better. "Do you love me?" he asked quietly and sincerely.

"Obviously," she said with a laugh. Her fingers slid through his hair. "I love you. I love you so much."

"Say it again," he begged, his voice husky.

Felicity felt him stir beneath her. Her hands moved down to his chest, her lips centimeters from his. "I love you."

He sighed as she guided him into her and started to move, his hands on her hips.

"I love you, too." Oliver breathed, burying his nose in her hair.

She pushed harder and harder, her lips grazing his neck. She was on her back before she realized it, and soon they were fighting for dominance, laughing and shoving and nipping and clawing and thrusting until they were lying on the unmade bed, completely spent and covered in raised red lines and love bites.

The room was bright by the time Oliver sat up. "I need you to do something for me."

Felicity blinked at him. "Hmm?"

"I want you out of the city. It's not any better out there, and Diggle said that your parents asked you to stay with them."

"But Detective Lance said I shouldn't leave."

"I'll get him to change his mind. Can you leave today? I can have the rest of your things put in storage and your rent paid until you get back."

She nodded, ignoring the knot in her stomach.

"Or you could just stay there permanently and I could visit." He favored her with a smile. "Get a job and get a boring life again. No more undertakings or criminals, no detective hounding you…"

It was tempting, and probably a good idea. She was running out of things, but the news made it seem too dangerous to venture outside. And the excitement needed to stop now that Baby Hood was on the way.

Speaking of which… No. She couldn't tell him. Not yet. He'd flip, and he had so much else going on. Just a few more weeks, just a little more time—

"Felicity?" he said, pulling her out of her musings. "What do you think?"

"Huh? Oh… um, yeah. You're right."

Grinning, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I'll help you pack."

And risk him finding the pregnancy books, the ultrasound picture, or any other evidence of Baby Hood? Nuh-uh.

"It's okay, I've got it."

"You're sure?"

"One-hundred percent,"

With one last amazing kiss, he stood up and got dressed. She put on her glasses and grabbed her body pillow, curling up around it as she watched him, drinking in his sculpted muscles and beautiful scars. Soon he was covered in green with a quiver on his back and kissing her goodbye.

Felicity laid there for a little while longer, wondering why she wasn't happier. He'd said it. He'd said he loved her. She finally had him. So why was she so scared?
Maybe it was the silly fear she had about Laurel. Now that Tommy was gone, she might need a shoulder to cry on. She was so beautiful and undoubtedly had a special place in Oliver's heart, so wouldn't he want to comfort her? Whether he loved Felicity or not, it seemed likely that he'd loved Laurel more if he had the chance to be with her again.

Then there was the thing about leaving the city. She understood, and she knew she needed to leave, but… if he was so worried, why couldn't she stay with him? He told her he loved her, then said to skip town.

If he hadn't fooled around with her then suddenly broke things off all those months ago, maybe she wouldn't be feeling so insecure. Felicity loved him and that was the only thing she was certain about. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong with all of this.

"Strangeness and Charm" and "Bedroom Hymns" by Florence + The Machine.

Oliver's song: "Faster" by Matt Nathanson. I feel like I need to explain this decision, because it's so upbeat compared to the chapter and the other songs. Maybe this should've been for chapter two, but since he's come clean and feels that everything is finally right between him and Felicity, I'd say it works. Despite the horrors that await him beyond the apartment, he has her again and he can forget everything else for a while.

Felicity's song: "Lovesong" by Adele.

Oh, and the hiatus starts now. :)