Archive of Our Own

Fantasies in Green Leather

"What's the weirdest thing you've ever done?" Felicity asks as she nurses her second glass of whiskey. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and while she's not drunk (she has a surprisingly high tolerance for someone her size) Oliver knows that she's certainly not sober, either. He smiles as he takes a small sip of his own whiskey.

Their evening had started out innocently enough: a long day of interviews for Oliver and board meetings for Felicity had left both of them craving a few drinks. So when Felicity had surprised him by arriving at his campaign office with a bottle of red wine, they’d decided to make a night of it. They’d popped open the bottle and spent the next two hours drinking and talking about nothing.

Well, they’d talked about nothing at first . But once the wine was gone, Oliver had pulled a bottle of whiskey out of his top drawer, and after one glass each their conversation has turned to matters that are about quite a bit more than "nothing."

"That's a pretty vague question," Oliver responds, leaning forward in his chair and downing the remains of his second glass. It's been awhile since he's had a drink, but he has a fast metabolism and years of practice that make getting drunk a feat. He's feeling decidedly warm and fuzzy, though, and the innocent game of Twenty Questions they've started has proven to be quite entertaining.

"Okay, let me rephrase it then," Felicity says, taking another sip of her drink and sucking on her bottom lip. Oliver sits up a bit higher in his chair as Felicity lifts her legs and props them up on his desk. Between the low chair and the high desk, the lower half of her body is on full display, and Oliver takes in the sight of her spread out before him. Her toes: painted a dark blue that perfectly matches the dress she wore three nights ago to the gala. Her stiletto heels: shiny gold sandals with straps that wrap around her ankles and up her calves, stopping just below the knee. Her dress: the same dark green shade as his Arrow suit, with a skirt that sits halfway down her full, shapely thighs.

Felicity smirks at him, knowing full well what her new position is doing to him. She scoots a bit lower in her chair, causing her skirt to ride up and exposing more of her gorgeous thighs. Oliver shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

"What's the weirdest thing you've done sexually ?" she asks, grinning mischievously as she spreads her legs just the slightest, affording him a view of her barely-there blue thong.

Oliver gulps as his cock twitches in his dress pants. He knows he's staring, but he can't help it.

"I...ummm...what was the question?" he mumbles, turning away from her to pour himself another drink. He takes a sip, and he savors the feel of the whiskey burning down his throat, the warmth of it coursing through his veins.

But the whiskey isn't the only thing coursing through him. Blood, pumping hot and fast with passion, and lust, and need , and oh god, he wants nothing more than to bend her over his desk right now and have his way with her.

But then she pulls her legs down off the table with a smirk, sitting up in her chair and pulling her skirt back down, and Oliver feels his heart sink just the slightest. She takes another sip of her whiskey.

"Your turn," she sighs, leaning her head back in her chair.

"I didn't answer your question," Oliver responds, readjusting his own position in his chair in the hopes of taming the beginnings of an erection.

"I'll give you a pass," she says with laugh, throwing back the rest of her drink like a pro. She sits up and wheels her chair closer to the desk so she can deposit her empty glass on top of it. Oliver holds up the bottle, but she shakes her head no. And so Oliver tops off his own glass and downs it in one.

Two can play this game.

Oliver puts his glass down and stretches, making sure to flex every muscle in his arms and chest as he does so. His suit jacket is long gone, fallen victim to the rush of heat brought on by the bottle of wine and the beginning of their no-longer-innocent game of Twenty Questions. He starts with loosening his tie, rolling his neck back and forth as he does so. He unknots it completely and drops it casually on the desk. Then he sits and watches her stare as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

"Not sure how I can top that one," he says, throwing more emphasis on the word "top" than is entirely necessary. "It's a very good question."

"One I fully expect an answer to next time," Felicity responds, but Oliver notices that her gaze hasn't wandered from what his hands are doing: namely, unbuttoning his shirt just far enough that she can see the top his chest. Oliver rolls up his sleeves next, exposing his strong forearms and the veins that he knows she loves more than she will ever be willing to admit (if the way she's been known to lick their path up his arms is any indication). Oliver smiles teasingly as he leans back and stretches again, making sure to flex his arms as much as possible so his muscles ripple and his biceps push against the fabric of his shirt. He feels his pecs twitch just the slightest, and he hears what sounds like a whimper escape from her lips.

Oliver takes pity on her and stops, sitting properly in his chair again. He wheels in closer to her - close enough that his knees bump into hers - and he can feel her shaking ever so slightly.

" My turn ," he tells her, his voice low and deep, and he notices Felicity clench her legs together in response. "What's the one sexual fantasy you've always had but never been able to fulfill?" he asks with a slight growl, putting his hands on her knees and gripping them tightly.

"Oh, god," Felicity moans, and Oliver watches in delight as she runs her hands over her upper thighs.

"Tell me," Oliver whispers, leaning in closer and caressing slowly up her thighs.

"I...oh, okay," she says breathily as Oliver sneaks the tips of his fingers up and under her skirt, squeezing her gently as he goes. "I'll tell you, just...oh, god."

Oliver pulls his hands back with a smirk, resting them on his own knees instead.

"Go on," he prompts carefully.

"Okay, so...remember the other night at the PBA gala? When I mentioned that going to the gala was a better way than how you usually spend your evenings...dressing in leather and tying people up?"

All the blood in Oliver's body rushes straight away from his brain, and it takes him longer than it should to fully grasp what she's saying.

"I've thought about it before, you know," she continues. "Not the...not the 'tying people up' bit necessarily - though I've definitely thought about that before - but the...the leather part."

"Felicity...." Oliver can feel his cock stirring again, and the images running through his head are enough to make his knees tremble. He pulls away from her just the slightest, but he can tell she's already noticed the effect her words have had on him. Her eyes fixate on his crotch, where Oliver knows his desire for her has become painfully apparent.

"Oliver." She whispers his name breathily as she stands, and Oliver's cock twitches in his pants, betraying him yet again.

She closes the distance between them, brushing her knees against his before opening her legs. Oliver watches in fascination as she spreads her legs wide enough to straddle his knees, causing her skirt to ride up and Oliver's breath to catch in his throat. She grips the sides of her skirt and pulls it up, exposing her thong to him once more as she sits down on his lap, straddling his hips between her thighs and rubbing her pelvis against his.

He can see that she's wet already, and he can feel her heat even through three layers of clothing. He groans as he reaches up under her skirt and grips her ass in his hands, squeezing tightly. She moans in contentment and rubs herself against him, gasping as his cock twitches against her core.

"I want it, Oliver. I want it so badly," she moans, gripping his biceps between her hands and squeezing hard.

"What?" he asks breathlessly. "What do you want, Felicity?"

Because he wants her to say it; needs her to say it. He needs to know that she wants this as much as he does.

Felicity rubs her hands slowly up his arms, over his shoulders, and down his chest. She reaches the first button he's left done up and toys with it between her fingers. And then, as though deciding buttons are unworthy of her time, she rips his shirt open instead, exposing his flushed chest to the cool air of the office. Oliver moans as his nipples harden instantly, and Felicity shoves the ruined shirt open and plants her warm hands on his exposed flesh.

"Me," she responds, running her hands along his pecs. "And you," she continues, pinching his nipples hard between her fingers, and Oliver groans loudly.

"Felicity-"

"I want you to fuck me in the Green Arrow suit."

Oliver gasps in surprise, his cock now fully hard in his pants. She rarely curses, and it's even more rare for her to be quite so...blunt. The temperature in the room shoots up about ten degrees as she stares at him, rubbing her hands along his chest and down to his abs as she waits for a response.

"Have you ever thought about it?" she asks curiously, stroking gently along his abdominal muscles, causing them to twitch under her touch.

Oliver takes a deep breath, gathers up his courage, and whispers, "yes."

Because he has. Oh, god, he has . More than once.

He's come back to the lair on more than one occasion - usually after a particularly strenuous fight - to find Felicity welcoming the team back while wearing a dress that fits her a little too well. On more than one occasion he's ended the night jerking off alone in the shower to the thought of her spread out on the conference table, wearing absolutely nothing as he fucks her while wearing his Green Arrow suit.

Just last week he’d come back from a grueling match against some ghosts, body tense and adrenaline coursing through his veins, to find Felicity waiting for him in a gorgeous red number that hugged her legs and her ass so perfectly that he'd had to refrain from bending her over the table and taking her right then and there. He'd fought down the urge, though, mostly because of the fact that the rest of team was there with them.

But that wasn't the only reason.

This is a fantasy he's had before, but never dreamed of voicing. Something he's wanted for months, but never dreamed of asking her for. Something he's yearned for but never dreamed of having. Because truth be told, he's always been scared for her to see that side of him: the side that hurts people and is willing to kill to protect the ones he cares about. The side that used to enjoy hurting and killing people...and the side that still could .

The feel of her lips against his neck, sucking on the tender spot below his jaw, pulls him out of his dark thoughts.

"I've wanted this for a long time, Oliver, but I've been afraid to ask," she whispers against his neck. "But I can see you want it, too," she continues, and she grips his erection through his pants, eliciting a soft whine of pleasure from him.

He doesn't know what to say, so he just says her name again.

"Felicity...."

"I want this, Oliver. I want you ." She kisses that spot below his jaw again, and he groans into her ear and grips her ass tighter in his hands. She grinds herself against him as she kisses across his jawline, her soft lips caressing his stubbled cheek, her tongue licking gently at his mole.

Then she tenderly kisses him on the lips. Oliver kisses her in return, running his hands along her lower back.

When she pulls away, her eyes are dark with a desire that mirrors his own.

"I want all of you ."

Something inside him breaks, like the wall he's built to hide a part of himself has finally started to crumble, and Oliver's never loved her more than he loves her in this moment.

He barely has time to get out the word "yes" before he crashes his lips to hers.

She moans against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his back and plastering her chest to his. He can feel her nipples through the fabric of her dress and bra, and he grunts as he grips her ass firmly in his hands and stands.

She wraps her legs tightly around his hips and holds on as he carries her to the elevator that will take them down to the lair. She lets go of him with one hand just long enough to slide the secret panel aside and slam her hand against the button.

Once the doors close behind them he shoves her up against the wall, palming her ass hard and causing her to break away from his mouth with a groan. Oliver buries his face in her neck and sucks gently on the sensitive spot below her ear.

"Oh, god," she whimpers, wrapping her arms tighter around his back as he continues to tease her with his tongue.

He's a few seconds away from saying "screw it" and just fucking her against the elevator wall when the doors finally open with a quiet ding.

Felicity unwraps her legs from around his back, and Oliver carefully lowers her feet to the floor. She grabs his hand and drags him out of the elevator and over to the case that holds his suit. The doors open as he stands in front of them, and as he stares in at his green leather suit it hits him suddenly that this is really going to happen: something that's only ever happened in his wildest fantasies...and apparently hers, too.

“I'll set the alarm, just in case anyone decides to drop by,” Felicity tells him, rubbing a hand along his upper thigh. Oliver gasps, nodding his head in assent. It definitely wouldn't do for any of the rest of the team to stop by the lair unannounced for some late night training.

Oliver gazes down at her tight green dress and shiny gold heels. “What are you going to wear?” he asks curiously. He's perfectly happy with what she's wearing now , to be honest, but he'd be just as happy with her naked. Or maybe in just the heels....

"It's a surprise," she whispers seductively. Her tone sends a shiver down his spine with the promise that he's going to enjoy what she has in mind, and his cock hardens further in this pants. He's going to have a hard time getting into his suit if she keeps on teasing him like this.

"Go," he tells her, smacking her ass lightly and eliciting a squeak of delight from her. He walks past her toward where his suit hangs in the case. "I'll change in the bathroom."

He's got everything on - the hood and the mask, the top and the arm guards, the gloves and the boots - but he's struggling with the pants, because his cock is still half hard at the thought of what's to come; of what he'll find waiting for him on the other side of the door.

In the end, he forces himself to think of decidedly unsexy things that should never be mentioned out loud, and he manages to coax his erection down enough that he can shove his cock into his pants and zip them up without worrying about hurting himself.

He stands and looks in the mirror.

The Green Arrow looks back at him.

Oliver's heart hammers in his chest at the thought that Felicity wants this. That she trusts him and loves him enough to share this with him. That she wants to see him like this.

That she wants to be fucked by the Green Arrow.

Oliver groans as his cock swells painfully in his pants yet again, and he grabs his crotch with one hand, willing himself to calm down, because if he gets much hotter he's never going to last very long and where’s the fun in that?

Finally, he turns from the mirror and leaves the bathroom, eager for Felicity's surprise.

Oliver thinks he's ready for anything.

Boy, is he wrong .

Because when he walks back into the lair he finds her leaning against her computer station wearing nothing but his green hoodie and her gold heels.

"Fuck, Felicity."

She smiles at him knowingly, and it's both irritating and a total turn on.

The hoodie just barely covers her, hanging loosely on her small frame. Her heels look even sexier than they did before. Something about the combination of his workout sweatshirt and her sparkly, feminine heels is such a turn on he can feel his knees quaking.

She watches him stare at her, teasing him as she pulls the zipper up and down, just enough to expose the middle of her chest and nothing more.

Oliver's gaze travels down her body to the tops of her thighs, and god , he loves the way her legs look in heels when she's wearing a skirt. But in nothing but his sweatshirt? She looks even sexier. Felicity is all legs: long and toned, with a plump ass and full thighs and long, graceful calves. The hoodie leaves nothing to the imagination, save the important bits.

She does a slow twirl for him, and yeah, she's definitely not wearing anything underneath that damn hoodie, because he can see her nipples pushing against the green fabric, and he just catches a glimpse of the delicate patch of dark hair covering her vagina.

Eventually she stops twirling, standing in front of him with her legs spread open just the slightest.

"How do you want me?" she asks with a smile, and Oliver almost jumps her then and there

"Conference table," he bites out, not even needing to think about his response.

She smiles knowingly and heads down the stairs toward him, moving her hips way more than necessary. She stops at the bottom of the stairs to look him up and down, and she must be satisfied with what she sees, because she turns from him with a grin and heads toward the conference table.

Oliver follows, loving how her ass sways as she walks away.

When she reaches the table she turns around to face him. She leans back against it, gripping the edge in both hands. The hoodie sneaks up her body a bit, and he can just make out the gentle slope of her vagina.

"Fuck," he groans

"That's the general idea," she says with a laugh. "However, if we're going to do this right, we need to complete the ensemble," she says, gesturing with one hand to his suit.

"What?" Oliver asks, looking down and wondering what he's forgotten.

"The voice modulator," she responds simply. "It needs to be on."

Oliver's cock twitches in his pants and he moans.

The thought of fucking her into the table as the Green Arrow is way more of a turn on than it has any right to be.

He can't talk. His mouth is dry and he can't form words. So instead he nods.

She gets up on the table and crosses her legs, placing one knee up on the other. Between the hoodie and her crossed legs she's covered herself. Her legs dangle off the table tantalizingly. His cock pushes painfully against the zipper of his pants, and he groans in frustration. She smirks at him, knowing exactly just how crazy she's making him.

Then she grips the zipper of the hoodie and pulls it down. She goes slowly, painfully slowly, and Oliver shifts uncomfortably. Just when he can see the side of one of her breasts peeking out of the sweatshirt, she stops, and Oliver curses.

She giggles in response, and it both infuriates him and makes him even hotter.

"I'm wondering...." She leaves the thought unfinished, reaching inside the hoodie with one hand and fondling her breast. He knows she's pinching her nipple when she bites her lower lip between her teeth.

Oliver takes a step closer to her, itching to replace her hand with his own.

"...Should I leave the heels on, or take them off?" she finally finishes.

Oliver's gaze travels down her long legs, where the straps of her high heels wrap lovingly around her upper calves.

The thought of those heels digging into his back makes his blood boil.

"On," he mutters, voice shaking against his will. "Definitely on."

Felicity frowns at him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't quite catch that," she says. She grips her thigh in one hand and slowly caresses her leg: up and over her knee, down her calf, until she reaches the strap of her heel. She's bending over now, and one of her breasts is hanging out of his hoodie. She reaches down with her other hand and grips the end of the strap, teasing it between her fingers. She looks up at him, a smirk on her face and eyes dark with lust. "Did you want me to take them off?" she whispers seductively.

It doesn't take long for him to realize what he's done wrong, and when the implication of it hits him it takes every ounce of strength he possesses not to throw her against the table and just take her. Instead he closes the distance between them, grabs her arms, and pulls them away from her legs. He lets go, and as her arms reach down to grasp the edge of the table, Oliver grips her knee tightly in one gloved hand; just tight enough that the pain borders right on the edge of pleasure. Felicity gasps as he reaches down and grabs the calf of her other leg and uncrosses them so both of her thighs lie flat on the table. He doesn't pull her legs apart, not yet. He pushes the button that turns on his voice modulator, and he grips both of her thighs in his gloved hands and squeezes hard.

"Leave. The heels. ON ," he growls.

Felicity bites her lower lip and whimpers, and Oliver can feel her legs shaking under his hands. It's not his voice she hears; it's the Green Arrow's... and apparently it's exactly what she wants.

Oliver moans helplessly as he crashes his lips to hers and kisses her hard, gripping her thighs tighter and relishing in the way her body clenches under his touch.

He groans against her mouth, swallowing down her moans of delight. His cock is hard against the leather of his pants, so tight that it hurts, but it's not entirely unpleasant. Felicity's legs are trembling now as she bites his lower lip, and Oliver grunts as he squeezes her thighs and pushes her legs open. He reaches around and palms her ass in both leather gloved hands, squeezing her firm cheeks and pulling her closer to the edge of the table. She squeaks a bit as her ass slides over the surface of the table, and when he settles himself between her she wraps her legs around his hips, resting her heeled feet against his ass and squeezing his body between her thighs. Oliver pulls away from her mouth in order to breathe, and he groans with pleasure as her crotch settles against his. He can feel the warmth and wetness of her even through his suit, and his cock swells impossibly harder.

If he doesn't get inside her soon he's going to burst.

"Felicity."

She whimpers at the sound of her name, and she grips his exposed biceps, squeezing them tightly. His muscles flutter under her touch, and he would swear he can feel the muscles of her pussy pulsing against his crotch.

"Say it again," she begs him.

"What?" he pants in confusion, slightly out of breath from just how turned on he is.

"Say my name again. Just like that."

Of course. The voice modulator is still on.

Oliver grins wickedly and bends over her. As he presses his lips to her neck, his hood gently scrapes against her cheek. She moans quietly, rubbing her face against the hood with a sigh. Oliver’s heart does a strange leap in his chest, and he smiles as he kisses his way up her neck, rubbing his stubbled cheek against the sensitive spot under her ear. She shudders in his grasp, and he bites gently at the skin of her neck. She grips his arms tighter in response - so tight he knows she's going to bruise him - and Oliver sucks hard on her sensitive spot. She whimpers, burying her face in the fabric of his hood, and Oliver stops sucking long enough to rub his crotch against hers with a grunt. The feel of his leather clad hardness against her core must feel good, because she throws her head back with a whispered "oh god," as Oliver finally puts his lips near her ear and groans out, " Felicity ."

And just like that her hands are at the zipper of his pants.

"Careful," he warns her, and Felicity lets out a breathy sound of assent as she drops her legs from around his hips, reaches down between them, and carefully unbuttons him. She reaches into his pants with one hand and grabs his cock, and Oliver groans in approval as she unzips him with her other hand. When the zipper's down she lets him go, and the cool air against his warm, hard length makes Oliver shiver. Aside from his cock, he's still fully clothed: hood, mask, and all.

It's the Green Arrow that she wants tonight...and it's the Green Arrow he's going to give her.

"Fuck me," she begs him.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

"Lie back," he tells her, voice gravely and deep from the modulator, and Felicity moans as she does what he asks, lying back against the table and spreading her legs wider. Oliver takes a few seconds to stare hungrily at her. Her pussy is flushed a deep red: swollen, and wet, and ready for him, and Oliver wants nothing more than to shove his cock inside her and pound her into the table.

But first....

Oliver kneels in front of her, and Felicity leans up on her elbows so she can watch him. Oliver places his hands on her inner thighs, squeezing them firmly as he pull her legs apart. He leans in close to her, the top of his hood brushing against her lower stomach, and Felicity gasps at the sensation. Oliver inhales deeply, the unique scent that is pure Felicity making his body ache for her.

"Just a taste," he whispers against her center, and he licks a stripe up her outer lips, pushing his tongue between them just enough to catch the taste of her arousal. Oliver sucks on her nether lips one at a time, drinking her in, and he can feel her juices coating his lips already. She moans above him, clenching her thighs together, and Oliver grips them tighter and pulls them apart as he bites at her gently, causing her to shudder.

"Do you like having the Green Arrow between your thighs?" he growls impulsively, voice gravely and deep from the modulator as he teases her with his tongue.

"Yes, ohhh, oh god, yes ," she answers, writhing underneath him.

Oliver grins as he rubs his face against her, sucking hard on her lips and causing her to tremble under his touch. His cock throbs against his stomach at the thought of how much she’s enjoying this; how much she enjoys being eaten out by the Green Arrow.

"You'll like it even better when my cock's inside you," he promises, and he rubs his nose between her lips, coating it in her juices and thinking that if he was ever going to die by drowning, this is how he'd want to go: buried between Felicity's thighs.

"Oh, god," she whimpers, body arching against the table. She reaches down and grabs his hood, pulling on it gently. Her fascination with his hood is ten kinds of hot, and Oliver groans against her pussy, the vibrations causing her walls to flutter around his tongue. She grips the hood tighter in her hands, trying to pull him in closer.

"Please," she begs from above him.

"Please what?" he asks, already knowing what she wants. He lets go of her thighs and uses his leather clad fingers to carefully pull her lips apart so he can see her, and fuck, she's so ready for him. Swollen and throbbing and.... "God, you're so wet , Felicity."

She whines, her words entirely unintelligible as he shoves his tongue inside her, caressing her inner walls. He buries his face against her hot center as he eats her out, moaning all the while and causing her muscles to clench around his tongue. He rubs his nose against her clit, and a fresh wave of arousal courses against his face. Her taste explodes on his tongue and he groans, sucking hard on her clit and lapping at her juices like he’s dying of thirst, and she’s undulating against his face now. His face is coated in her arousal, her juices dripping down his chin, and the wet sucking noises he's making sound obscene in the quiet lair.

"Please, please ," she finally gets out.

Oliver smiles against her and pulls his tongue out. He kisses her nether lips gently, licking her one last time as he pulls away.

She whimpers as he stands in front of her. His nose and lips and chin are soaked in her, and he reaches up with one hand and collects her juices on his fingertips. He brings his fingers to his nose, inhaling the mixed scent of her arousal and his leather gloves. It smells uniquely of them, and Oliver groans as he puts his fingers in his mouth and sucks on them, the taste of Felicity and leather exploding on his tongue. His cock twitches against his stomach, and Felicity whines, and god, he needs to be inside her now .

Oliver reaches down and grabs her thighs, pulling them apart. Then he lets go with one hand and cautiously presses a fingertip inside her. He wonders what the leather must feel like rubbing against her inner walls, but she throws her head back and whimpers, so it must be good. Oliver smiles as he gently pushes a second fingertip inside her, and she's mewling now, writhing under his touch, her head thrown back against the table. Oliver strokes his fingers inside her for a few seconds, marveling at the feel of her undulating against his hand. He pulls out carefully and pinches her clit, rubbing it between his fingers, and the scream of pleasure that escapes her makes his cock throb painfully against his stomach.

"Fuck, Felicity," he moans as he rubs the palm of his hand against her aching core, collecting her juices before he pulls away. He grips his cock in his hand, rubbing it slowly up and down and spreading a mixture of her arousal and his precum along his length, and he gasps. The touch of leather against his cock feels strange but good, so good , and god, no wonder he could make her scream.

Oliver allows himself a brief moment to grip his balls in his gloved hand, rolling them gently between his fingers with a soft groan, and yeah, he’s definitely going to see what else he can do with these amazing leather gloves the next time they have sex. But for now, he squeezes his balls once more with a low grunt before letting go of himself and grabbing Felicity’s hips. He pulls her closer, and her legs dangle next to his as he presses his hard cock against her wet center and rubs it back and forth, teasing her. She moans and writhes against him, a whimpered "please" escaping her lips.

Oliver grunts out a strangled "fuck" and slams his cock inside her in one smooth, fast motion.

Felicity shouts at the sensation, but it's not a cry of pain, and Oliver groans as he settles himself against her. He's in so deep his balls rest against her ass, and he can feel her walls pulsing slowly around every inch of him, trying to pull him in deeper.

"Wrap your legs around me," he orders, and she does. She rest her heels against his ass once more and uses her feet to pull him impossibly closer. The new angle pushes Oliver even deeper inside her, and they both moan at the sensation.

He looks down at her, still wearing his half zipped green hoodie, and he doesn't think she's ever looked sexier.

He grips her hips between his hands and squeezes, prompting her to loosen her hold on his hips just enough that he can pull out of her. He slams back in, hard, and the force of his thrust shoves her body up the table and makes the metal legs screech against the floor.

"Oh, god," she groans, throwing her head against the glass and arching her back. Oliver can see her nipples peaking through the green fabric of his shirt, and as he pulls back out of her and thrusts back in again he bends down and kisses her.

He sets a slower rhythm to start, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting back into her in smooth, hard strokes. Felicity pants underneath him, and Oliver can feel her growing wetter, her juices sliding around his cock. He takes a moment to look down at where their bodies meet, marveling at the site of her spread open for him, taking all of him in. His leather clad legs brush against her smooth, strong thighs, and Oliver grunts as he pulls out of her, the sight of his cock covered in her arousal making his knees weak. He slams back into her, harder than before, and Felicity screams with pleasure. His cock swells inside her; the fact that he can make her scream is such a turn on. She whimpers at the sensation, her walls pulsing around him and pulling on his cock, and Oliver watches as a fresh flow of arousal soaks against the leather of his suit.

She's getting closer, he can feel it, and he desperately wants to push her over the edge.

He pushes into her faster, setting a more brutal pace. He pumps into her in short, quick motions, groaning at the feel of her strong muscles clenching around him each time, pulling him deeper as he thrusts in and squeezing him in protest when he tries to pull out.

She's tight around him, teetering on the edge, and Oliver can feel a tingling in the base of his spine which means he's close, too.

"Felicity," he groans out as he grinds his pelvis against hers.

"Mmmph, don't stop," she moans. "Oh, god, don't stop."

" Never ," he growls, slamming into her hard and causing the table to groan underneath them.

"Yes, yes, oh, god, yes," Felicity pants, wrapping her legs tighter around him.

"Fuck," Oliver curses, and he bends down and buries his face against her neck, changing the angle of his next thrust. He hits a spot deep inside her that has her keening, but she still doesn't come.

Oliver kisses his way down her chest, the top of his hood grazing against her body as he moves, and she shivers underneath him. His chin hits the zipper on the hoodie, and he grips it carefully between his teeth. Felicity gasps, breathing faster, and Oliver can feel her heart beating hard against his cheek. He nuzzles his face against the top of her breast, reveling in the sound of her strong familiar heartbeat, and he whimpers around the metal of the zipper. Then he pulls the zipper down slowly, pulling his cock out of her as he goes. She whines at the loss of him and unwraps her legs from his hips yet again as he continues to pull on the zipper with his teeth, shaking his head to the side when he hits the bottom to undo it completely. The hoodie falls open against her, and Oliver stands up and pushes the green fabric off of her, exposing her heaving breasts and the smooth expanse of her stomach.

She's lying bare and open in front of him, and Oliver takes a minute to drink in the sight of her, body flushed and trembling, aching for his touch. His gaze lands on her hard nipples, and Oliver bends over and captures one in his mouth, laving it with his tongue. Felicity throws her head back against the table, writhing underneath him, and Oliver reaches up and pinches her other nipple between his leather clad fingers.

"Please, please," she begs him, and Oliver growls as he bites her nipple gently between his teeth, causing her to whine. He grins against her breast and sucks on her nipple hard before pulling off with a wet pop. He palms at her breast as his fingers continue fondling her other nipple, and she writhes under his touch. She's enjoying this even more than she usually does, and Oliver's pretty sure he has the leather gloves to thank.

"Please what?" he asks her with a slight growl, and the sound of his modulated voice has her trembling even harder against him.

"I...I need you inside me. Now ."

Oliver squeezes her breasts in his hands and shoves back into her in one smooth motion, causing her to screech as her back arches against the table.

"Is this what you need?" he asks, pulling out quickly and slamming back in, making sure to grind his pelvis against hers as he rolls her nipples between his fingers.

"Yes! Oh, god, yes ," she moans in approval.

Oliver lets go of her breasts and grabs her thighs, opening her wider for him and thrusting in short, quick pulses. She wraps her legs around his hips again and whimpers. Her heels dig painfully into his ass and he grunts, shoving into her so hard that he actually manages to move the heavy conference table far enough to knock over one of the chairs.

"You need me to fuck you ?" he growls. He lifts her lower body off the table enough so he can shove his hands under her and grab her ass. He squeezes her tight, stands on the tips of his toes, and shoves back in, changing the angle and hitting her deeper with every hard thrust of his hips. "You need me to make you come?"

She screams, back arching impossibly high of the table, and he knows she's close. They both are.

"Tell me what you want, Felicity," he grunts, stopping his movements and leaving them both teetering on the edge of orgasm. Her walls are pulsing hard around his cock, her body quaking. Oliver's sweating like mad in his leather suit, his body beginning to chafe from all the friction, but he honestly couldn't care less. He would do anything for her right now. He would do anything for her for the rest of her lives, if she would have him.

"I...I...."

"Tell me what you want," he repeats.

Felicity bites her lip between her teeth and says nothing. She wants to say something, he knows she does, but for some reason she's holding back. And so Oliver bends down and kisses her softly. It's different from every other way he's kissed her since he put on this suit. It's his way of reminding her that he's still hers ; that no matter what, he's still her Oliver.  She gasps against his lips, and as he pulls out of the kiss he turns off the voice modulator.

"What do you want, baby?" he asks gently against her mouth, and Felicity whimpers.

Then she turns his modulator back on and pushes him back just far enough that she can look into his eyes.

"Tell me I'm yours," she asks him.

Oliver's heart clenches in his chest, and his cock swells from where it's buried deep inside her. He takes a deep breath, fighting the urge to come then and there. Finally, he pulls out of her and slams home. Once, twice.

As he pulls out for the third time, he grips her hips tightly in his hands, tight enough to bruise.

"You're mine , Felicity," he growls. Then he slams back into her one last time and pushes her over the edge.

She comes around him hard, her muscles pulsing and pulling on his cock. He can feel her arousal dripping out of her, coating her thighs and the front of his suit, and Oliver pants as he pulls halfway out and shoves back into her one last time as he comes. She groans at the feel of his cock pulsing deep insider her, and she pants harshly as she continues to come in long, intense bursts of pleasure that have her clenching tightly around him. Spots dance behind Oliver's eyelids as he continues to come, her muscles milking him for all he's worth.

His knees go weak under him and he leans over her, burying his face against her breasts and gently pressing the length of his body against hers. He rests most of his weight on his elbows, and she wraps her arms around his back and holds on tight as they ride out the waves together.

Eventually, Oliver feels like he can trust his legs to hold him again. He sighs against Felicity's chest, nuzzling his face against her breast and placing a gentle kiss there as he stands up. Felicity's arms and legs are still wrapped around him, and she sits up with him, moaning contentedly. Oliver chuckles and wraps one arm around her back, placing the other against the back of her head. He runs his fingers through her hair, and she sighs, nuzzling against his chest.

Oliver places a long, gentle kiss against the top of her head. Then he rests his cheek against her hair, breathing in her familiar smell. He could hold her like this forever.

But his body aches for a hot shower, and eventually he has to pull away.

"Hey," he whispers softly, surprised when he hears his own voice and not the modulated one. She must have switched the device off when he wasn't paying attention.

"Mmph," she grumbles sleepily against his chest, and it might be the cutest thing he's ever heard.

"I don't know about you, but I could really use a shower," he says. "Did you know that leather chafes?"

She laughs against him, and she finally pulls back. She rests her hands on his arms again, leaning back to look up at him.

"We should get you out of this thing, huh?" she suggests, gesturing at the suit.

"Yeah, we should," Oliver responds with a smirk, and he grins at her playfully.

"Stop it," she teases, smacking him not too lightly in the chest.

"Ow," he mumbles, looking down at where she hit him.

Felicity smirks. "Aww, did I hurt the big bad vigilante?" she asks playfully, stroking a finger down his arm.

Oliver shrugs. "The big bad vigilante's girlfriend is stronger than she looks," he offers.

Felicity smiles at him and places a kiss against his armored chest.

"Yeah, she is, isn't she?" she mumbles against him.

Oliver laughs, bending down and kissing the top of her head again.

"Yes, and she's incredibly humble, too," he teases.

"Of course."

Oliver lets her rest against him for a minute, relishing in the feel of her warm against him, the fabric of his green hoodie soft under his hands as he strokes her back.

Finally, she pulls away with a sigh.

"If you want me to stand up, Oliver, you're going to have to get out of me," she says with a laugh, and Oliver grins sheepishly. His cock is soft now, but he's still buried inside her. He pulls out with a low groan, and she lets out a deep sigh at the loss.

But she still doesn't stand. Instead she remains seated on the table in front of him, staring quietly at his chest. Her gaze travels slowly down the length of his body, drinking in the sight of him standing before her in his suit. Then her gaze travels just as slowly back up. Oliver feels a bit shy under the intensity of her gaze, but he lets her stare. Aside from the pants that lie halfway down his hips, he's still fully clothed: boots, shirt, gloves, hood, and mask. He focuses his gaze on her face and waits. The longer she stares, the more desperately he wishes that he knew what was going on in her head.

Finally, her eyes meet his. He watches her silently from behind his mask, waiting.

Then she smiles, grabs his face between her hands, and pulls him down for a kiss. It's slow and tender, different from the other kisses they've shared tonight save two, and Oliver feels his heart beat faster as she caresses his lips with her own. Her fingers trace the contours of his face: up his jaw, across his cheekbones, and finally to the edge of his mask. She carefully digs her fingers underneath it and pulls it up and off, dropping it onto the table next to her. Then she cups his face between her hands once more.

She leaves the hood up.

Without the mask, he's Oliver Queen. But with the hood, he's still the Green Arrow.

He's Oliver again. And yet...he's not.

He's something else.

She moves her hands up his face and buries them in his hair, her knuckles brushing against the fabric of his hood. Then she pulls his head down to hers and kisses him.

Oliver kisses her back, and the importance of the kiss is not lost on him.

The hero, and the man.

The Green Arrow, and Oliver Queen.

Felicity Smoak loves all of him.

And so when she rests her forehead against his and says, "I love you, Oliver," he says, "I love you, too."

...the end...