A/N: Hey, everyone! Here is something I had been working on whenever I got the chance. This is a long one-shot, but 100% Olicity! The idea came to me from an episode of One Tree Hill and kind of took on a mind of its own. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this and please don't forget to review!

"We have to stop doing that," Felicity said, chest heaving as she attempted to catch her breath.

"But we're so good at it," Oliver protested, pressing his lips into her neck.

She nudged out of his grasp, ignoring his noises of protest. "I know we are, but there is other stuff that needs to get done."

With an exaggerated thump, he collapsed onto his back on the mattress. Felicity sat up, beginning to redress. His fingers played with the creases in the sheets, waiting for her to come back into his arms where she belonged.

"Where are you going?" he asked, realizing she wasn't going to join him back in bed.

She turned around, sliding her bra strap back up her shoulder. "Back home."

He groaned, sitting up. "But you live here."

"It doesn't feel that way," she admitted, running a hand over her blonde hair. "None of my things are here. All of my stuff is still at my apartment. I haven't even started packing yet."

Oliver furrowed his brows, waving her onto the bed. She perched herself on the edge of the mattress, looking down at her hands.

"Felicity, we decided to move in together a couple weeks ago," he reminded her. "Don't worry. We'll get it done."

She nodded, not looking too convinced. "You aren't... You're not scared, are you? I mean, I know with Laurel you didn't-"

"Hey," he interrupted, catching her eyes, "with Laurel, it was different. I didn't want to move in with her, and only considered it because I knew it would make her happy. With you, I want this more than anything, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled, feeling a lot better about it all.

"How about this weekend, we devote our time to packing all your things up? Then we can take a few days off work if we need to and move it all in here," he suggested, placing his hand on top of hers.

"I think that's the best idea you've ever had."

She reached over to kiss him, but he beat her to it. His body lurched forward, capturing her lips in his own and moving so that he was hovering over her. Cupping his face, she let him trace the outside of her lips with his tongue. When her lips parted, she couldn't keep in the moan that left her body. That was incentive enough for him to deepen the kiss further and press into her. He reluctantly pulled away to catch his breath once his lungs started giving out.

"You're too kind, Ms. Smoak," he grinned, staring down into her eyes.

She let out a shaky breath, glancing down with a raised eyebrow. "And you're very naked, Mr. Queen."

He laughed, beginning to kiss her yet again. "I think you're overdressed."

"I think I would be if we were going to have sex," she murmured against his lips, feeling him pull away in defeat. "Come on, Oliver. Let's get going."

He sighed, allowing her to push him off of her. "I think I'm going to need a cold shower first."

"Make it fast," she called over her shoulder as she strode off.

"You own a lot of things," Oliver observed, closing the folds to what felt like the two-hundredth box.

Felicity laughed as she wrapped her glassware in newspaper. "This coming from the guy who has four rooms dedicated just to gym equipment."

"Hey, it was a faze," he defended, frowning. "And you told me you like watching me work out."

"Oh, I do," she assured. "But maybe we can get rid of a couple of them in case we need the rooms for something else."

He lifted his head, looking at her. "Like what?"

She was about to answer, but bit her bottom lip before the words could come out. She was going to say in case they had kids, but it was way too early for her to be saying things like that. Oliver and her had just decided to move in together. She was already worried about that freaking him out. She didn't need to start throwing around the 'k-word'.

Although, the thought had crossed her mind. More than once, in fact. She had always imagined a future with Oliver. After he had come to her with his tech emergency, she found herself drawn to him. The feeling was clearly mutual as he couldn't seem to stay away from her. He would come to her for even the smallest of reasons. At one point, she was sure he was just clicking on ads so that he would have a reason for her to fix his viruses.

It took him five months after meeting her for him to ask her out. It took him ten months after that for him to ask her to move in with him. At the rate they were going, whose to say they would even have time for kids? They were still in that stage of their relationship where having sex was apart of their daily routine. It seemed like after she got her promotion to be his executive assistant, he finally got the nerve to ask her out. So, after spending nearly every second together, you'd think that they would be farther along in their relationship. Well, one could only hope. She really had nothing to complain about though. He was literally the definition of perfect.

"Felicity? Hello?" Oliver called, looking amused as she was finally snapped out of her daze. "Hey, where did you go?"

"Uh, I was just thinking about the pain it's going to be to move all of this into your place," she lied.

He stood up, making his way over to her. "First of all, it's our place. Second of all, we could always hire people to do this for us."

"I know," she murmured, letting him take her hands in his own. "I just feel like this is something we should do on our own. I don't want to always depend on your bank account, Oliver."

"Okay," he easily agreed. "Whatever you want to do, I'll be fine with."

He leaned down to kiss her, letting out a pleased hum when she stroked her tongue against his. His hands kneaded her thighs, urging her to lift them until they were set on the counter-top. Now that the height difference was flipped, she wrapped her arms around his head. His hands wandered over her through her clothes, simultaneously pressing her into his form. His teeth on her lip drew her back to reality.

"Oliver," she began, pulling away from him.

"What?" he breathed, attempting to reattach their lips.

"We're supposed to be packing."

"We'll get to that," he promised.

She jumped off the counter anyways, furthering her distance from him. "You've been saying that for the past two weeks. We can't just keep having sex and avoiding everything else."

"Why not?" he questioned, cracking a smile at her not-so-amused expression. "I'm kidding."

"I don't think you are."

"What, you don't think I can get something done without having sex?"

She lifted a shoulder, crossing her arms. "Evidence has proven otherwise."

"Felicity, I can get stuff done without having sex with you."

She scoffed. "I don't think that's possible."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe."

He lifted his head, eyeing her from his place in the kitchen. "Okay, fine. I bet you that I can go longer without having sex than you can."

"You're challenging me to see who can fight off the urge to have sex with the other the longest?" she incredulously repeated. "How is this even remotely a competition?"

"Are you saying you won't do it?"

"No, I'll do it," she agreed. "And I'll win."

He smirked, leaving the kitchen to meet her in the living room. "We'll see about that."

She gazed up at him as he approached, stepping back before he could touch her. "I have only one rule."

"Okay."

"Sex will include oral as well."

"Are you joking?" he questioned, receiving a raised eyebrow in response. "Okay, fine."

She smiled in accomplishment, asking an important question. "So, what happens when I win?"

He took a second to think about it, his face brightening when he came up with something. "If you win," he started, emphasizing the 'if', "I'll move all your things into our place by myself."

"And if you win?" she prompted.

"If I win, you'll have to put my sister's consistent badgering to rest, and have a shopping day with her."

"Fine," she agreed, not needing to think about it at all.

She knew she was going to win. He couldn't even look at her without getting hard. God, she didn't even want to know how it would have been had they dated in high school. She almost got lost in the idea, straightening when he shot her a questioning glance.

"Maybe we should go one more time before we start," he suggested, eyes catching sight of a strip of skin that was exposed from when he had lifted her onto the counter.

"I don't think so," she denied, cackling at his attempt. "Nice try though."

"Yeah, whatever," he grumbled, going to get an empty box from the stack near the door.

She smirked. This was going to be a piece of cake.

"I can't believe you're sleeping in the guest room," Felicity scoffed, sitting up on her elbows as she watched him gather his pillow and blanket together.

"Yeah, well you own a lot of things, Felicity," he reminded her. "And I'm not ready to blow out my back just yet."

She grinned, climbing out of bed and slowly approaching him. He watched her from the corner of his eye, looking suspicious of her actions. Her arms draped loosely around his neck as she paused in front of him, an innocent look in her eyes.

"If you do, I'll blow you."

His mouth dropped, a sound of desperation and surprise clawing its way out of his throat. She let her lips twitch victoriously, running a finger down the length of his body. The offer was almost too tempting. Still, his pride was there to prevent him from agreeing and slipping into that bed with her. With a groan, he left the room, detaching her from his body. She called after him, giggling sounding from her until he was behind closed doors and could no longer hear it.

The next day, Oliver woke up to find Felicity already gone. He found that strange considering how they always drove to work together. In a way, he was relieved that she was gone. He wasn't sure he could stand the sight of her messy hair and short pajama bottoms without tossing her back into his bed.

Oliver hopped into the shower, keeping it short since he wanted to see Felicity. As he was sifting through his closet for something to wear, a thought popped into his mind. Felicity had been playing with him a lot. Ever since they made that bet, she had been bringing him to the breaking point nearly every chance she got. Now, he saw an opportunity for payback.

It was no secret that Felicity loved the sight of him in a suit. She made it fairly obvious in her ramblings and blushing and constant gaping. Since they had been together, she had informed him of one suit in particular that absolutely drove her wild. It was a grey three-piece suit that he had spent a small fortune on (if money were actually an issue for him). He only ever wore it on special occasions since he knew the affect it held on her, and now seemed like the greatest occasion of any.

So, he went to the back of the closet, pulling out the crisp suit. He smirked to himself, dressing carefully so that fabric wouldn't wrinkle. When he was finished, he looked himself over in the mirror. Then, he was grabbing his keys off his dresser and heading for work.

The car ride over was pleasant as he anticipated Felicity's reaction. Really, he was just excited to see her. He found not too shortly after meeting her that when she wasn't next to him, he had this feeling that something was missing. Maybe that was the reason he took the elevators instead of the stairs. Or, maybe he really did just want to see that starstruck look in her eyes.

Oliver managed to make it all the way to their floor without being stopped by the usual people who always had something to complain about. His steps were quick as he made his way to her office, determination set on his face for anyone to see. He didn't get far before he saw her. She seemed to have known he was coming. She was leaning against his desk, blouse buttoned down just a notch too low, and legs crossed at the ankle as they extended from the black skirt she wore. He stopped in his tracks, feeling like the one who was starstruck.

"How did you know I was coming?" he asked, clearing his throat just in case his words came out squeakier than usual.

She stepped away from the desk, crossing her arms now. "I had Deborah call me once you walked in."

He made a mental note to himself about dealing with whoever the hell this Deborah person was, and let out a sigh. "Why did you have Deborah call you when I walked in?"

"Well, I was going to give in and fuck you on your desk," she began, making him groan at the thought, "But then I saw you walk in here with that suit on. You must be feeling pretty desperate if you're going that low."

"Are you telling me this has no affect on you whatsoever anymore?" he questioned, feeling pointless now that his only strategy had failed.

"Not exactly," she denied, restoring his confidence some. "Even though I do want to rip you out of that, it has made me more determined to keep this little game going. Unless you're willing to admit defeat. Then, of course, I'd be more than happy to let you spread me out onto this surprisingly tidy desk, and fuck me. Hard."

"Fuck," he uttered, closing his eyes as he fought for his self control.

Hearing her swear always turned him on. Hearing her tell him how she wanted him to fuck her was unbearable. Well, pretty much everything she did had him feeling that way. Her hands were suddenly touching his chest, making his eyes open. It took every ounce of restraint he had, but he managed to shake off the spell she had put him under.

"Well?" she prompted, eyebrow raised as if she already knew what his answer was going to be.

"I'll keep playing," he decided, trying to ignore the way her fingers tugged at his tie.

Disappointment struck her face for a split second before she recovered.

"Very well then," she said, smiling sweetly. "Game on, Mr. Queen."

He let out a growl of frustration, slamming a hand onto his desk. Yeah, so that had backfired.

Felicity's retaliation was worse than anything he could have imagined. She definitely used the element of surprise to her advantage. Oliver was as unsuspecting as ever. He had decided, after countless lingering looks from Felicity that day, that he'd had the upper-hand after all. That accomplishment is what made him think he could handle sleeping in the same bed as her that night.

Well, that and the fact that last night had been the most uncomfortable sleeping experience he'd had since before he could even remember. Sleeping with her was one of his favorite things in the world. It wasn't in a sexual way either. There was just something about the warmth of her body against his and the safeness he felt with her in his arms. For that reason as well, he replaced his things in his bed and crawled in for the night.

Felicity wasn't in there yet, but he knew she would be joining him any minute now. His phone rang from its place on the nightstand, and he reached over to grab it. Glancing at the screen, he saw that his sister was calling.

"Thea?"

"Hey, Ollie. Sorry to be calling so late. Were you asleep?"

He sat up a little straighter, furrowing his brows. "No, is something wrong?"

"No," she quickly assured, easing his nerves. "I was just calling to check up on you. I haven't heard from you in a few days."

"I know," he sighed. "I'm sorry. Maybe we can get together for lunch next week."

"Uh, is there any chance Felicity is free to hang out?"

"Felicity?" Oliver repeated, already knowing where this was headed.

"Yeah, we still have yet to have our shopping day," Thea reminded him, although Oliver hadn't forgotten.

"Right. Well, I'll ask her and get back to you, Speedy."

If Thea responded to that, Oliver didn't hear her. Just as he had finished his sentence, Felicity entered the room, wearing one of his light blue dress shirts. It was long enough for her to get away without wearing pants, which he knew she was doing immediately. Anything that could possibly drive him insane, she was doing right now. The shirt was buttoned and the sleeves were rolled down to hide her arms from his eyes.

Oliver would have sworn his favorite sight in the world was Felicity in one of her tight skirts. Then, he had seen her roaming around his bedroom in one of his shirts, and that had instantly topped the image. Every single time, it made something in him roar to life, something that wanted to fuck her senseless until she was crying his name out for the world to hear.

Today was no exception.

Felicity grinned wickedly at the affect she knew she had on him. The phone slipped from his grasp, the impact of it hitting his thigh reminding him he was still on the line with Thea. Without breaking eye contact with Felicity, he brought the phone back to his ear.

"Hey, Thea? I'm going to have to call you back."

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

Felicity took her next few steps in Oliver's direction, crawling onto the bed and straddling his lap. His eyes closed and he faced away from her. She let out a soft laugh, tracing the outline of his jaw with her fingertips. Her lips feathered over his jaw line a second later, pressing firm kisses to his rough skin every beat or so.

"Yeah, e-everything is, uh, fine," he managed, hoping that would be enough to convince his sister not to worry. "I'll, um, call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, Ollie," she said, sounding only mildly concerned. "Bye."

He clicked his phone off, daring to open his eyes. Felicity was staring at him, giving nothing away. He opened his mouth to speak, being silenced by her fingers trailing down his torso to play with the strings at the waistband of his pajama pants. He swallowed, discarding his phone onto her side of the bed and setting his hands on her hips. Cold fingers slipped into his pants, making him jerk upwards into her. She gasped, pupils dilating as she paused.

Slowly, she inched closer to him, landing her lips on his. He kissed her back, plain and simple since he knew that even the smallest of things could trigger the beast inside of him. Her tongue traced the outside of his lips, gently parting them to slip inside of his mouth. And just like that, his self control was gone.

In an instant, he had flipped her onto her back, pushing her legs around his waist and aligning their lower halves together. His tongue fought against hers, hips grinding desperately into her. Her tiny fingers were pulling at his shirt, edging it up. Taking initiative, he sat up and removed it for her. She watched as he tossed it off into one of the far corners of the room, a hand running over her hair in admiration for his body.

His head dipped downwards again, slanting his mouth over hers as he tried to relieve some of the pressure in his pants. If her moans were any indication, she was definitely enjoying the friction. Her hands found his on her waist, guiding them under his dress shirt that she was wearing. His touch was warm, sending the blood rushing though her veins. He growled when he realized she was bra-less, swiping the pad of his thumb over one of her hardened nipples. She moaned, yanking at his hair.

"Are you... admitting defeat?" she breathed, trying to think clearly enough to speak coherent sentences.

His eyes snapped open, stomach sinking as he came to an abrupt stop. "You cannot be serious."

"What?" she asked, feigning innocence, though he could already see the devious smile forming.

"You really want me to say you win?"

"Well, what did you think was going to happen? Did you think I was just going to forget the whole competition? I don't think so."

"This is mean," he told her, gritting his teeth and urging her to sympathize with him just a little.

She smiled. "No, this is payback for today. Now, are you going to accept defeat, or are you going to need some alone time with your hand?"

He glared down at her, shaking his head. "I'm not accepting anything."

Her face dropped, hand coming up to tap his face lightly. "Then get the hell off of me."

She pushed at his chest, and he fell to his side without a fight. She smirked as she saw the obvious bulge in his pants, walking over to the door.

"I'll give you some time," she murmured, letting out a laugh before shutting the door behind her.

He fell back against the mattress, covering his face to bury his frustration.

There was no way he was going to win this.

A couple days went by where Oliver was super cautious about Felicity's intentions. She had to know she was getting to him. His skin was crawling to just cave in and take her on the nearest flat surface. If it weren't for his pride, he would have already done so. After the way she had gotten him back the last time, he decided he wasn't going to mess with her anymore. All he could do was hope she would lose it before he did.

Oliver let out huffs of air, slowing his pace down on the treadmill. This was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment. Exercising allowed him to work off his frustration and let out the excess energy that was usually reserved for his alone time with Felicity. He had his own gym equipment in the basement of the mansion - and a few rooms that he used for mostly storage purposes - that he used quite often. Sometimes Felicity would go down there and watch him work out.

She claimed it did something to her that she couldn't really explain to him and still keep her dignity. He understood how she felt completely. He was absolutely certain that feeling she got from seeing him work out was the exact feeling he got when he saw her in that grey pencil skirt. He shook his head, trying to clear the image from his mind before he got all worked up over it.

Again.

Grabbing his sweat towel off the ground, he dabbed at his forehead. His water bottle had rolled over to another machine, and he went over to grab it. Once bent over, he noticed a change in the atmosphere. Slowly, he straightened up, turning around to face the front of the room. His eyes locked with Felicity, who was gaping at him like she so often did down here.

Only this time, it scared him. He needed her to know that this wasn't intentional. This wasn't him trying to start another war. He had no idea she would be home so early. She had told him she'd be clocking some more hours in at the office. It really wasn't his fault that she came home early.

"Felicity-"

"Oliver, you're- you are really, uh, sweaty," she sputtered, face flushing.

He looked down at his bare chest, swallowing anxiously. "I didn't know you'd be home."

She took her first step towards him, and he was almost tempted to take a step back. Her eyes scanned him over, overcome with a hungry look.

"I tried calling, but you didn't answer your phone," she informed him, now standing directly in front of him.

He glanced around, trying to avoid eye contact in case he broke. "I left my phone upstairs on accident. I'm sorry."

She lifted one shoulder, waiting a second before extending her hand towards him. "I thought you might be in your room, so I went to check. Then, I saw the basement door open and decided to go see if you were down here."

"Felicity, are you okay?" he asked, trying to shrug off the chills that shot down his spine as her fingertips dragged along the indents between his abs.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?"

He furrowed his brows, cupping her face with one hand. "You just seem really-"

He was cut off by her lips on his. Her tongue forced its way into his mouth, spiking his temperature in a matter of seconds. Her body molded into his much sweatier one, not having a care in the world. With a steady hand, she pushed him backwards. He landed on the cushion seating of one of his machines. She straddled his lap, taking his face in her hands to kiss him deeper. When she'd had her fill of his lips for the time being, she leaned down to suck on the space right above his collar bone. Afraid he might break, he reached down to grip the handles on either side of the seat.

"Is this your way of saying I win?" he asked, needing to either continue or end this before it went too far again.

She froze. "What?"

"The competition," he reminded her, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she pulled away from him.

"Oh," she murmured, swallowing thickly. "I... I forgot."

He smiled sympathetically, placing a hand on her hip. "It's okay, Felicity. Just say I win and put us both out of our miseries. Please."

And apparently, that was the exact opposite of what he should have said. After a throat clear and a deep breath, her new motives became clear - and they didn't involve him. She gained her composure, climbing off of him. He let out a frustrated growl, hating how he was always left more affected than her.

"Nice try, Queen. You almost had me for a second," she said, fixing her skirt. "Prepare yourself for another retaliation."

"But I didn't plan this," he protested, knowing that didn't matter.

He was in trouble whether he liked it or not. And at this point, it was a little of both.

There it was.

That skirt that drove him wild. The one that out of all the skirts she owned, made him want to rip it apart or pull it up or anything else that would get him buried inside of her the fastest. And there it was, hugging Felicity's petite waist as she walked past his desk.

She was busy, focused. He knew she wore it on purpose. She had sworn revenge on him for the last incident that really wasn't even his fault. This was her payback. He couldn't even imagine the satisfaction she must be feeling waltzing around with his eyes glued to her ass. It was seriously taking every ounce of strength within him not to say 'fuck the competition' and have his way with her on his desk.

He could already feel the way her body would writhe underneath him, and hear the loud appraisals she would scream into his ear as he entered her thrust after thrust after-

"Oliver?"

He glanced up, finding Felicity staring back at him. "What?"

"I asked you if you got the email about your schedule for next week," she told him, letting a smirk tug at her lips.

He watched as she moved around his office, stepping directly between him and his desk. She leaned on it, staring down at him with a seductive look in her eyes. He cleared his throat, trying to avoid looking at any part of her, but failing miserably.

"Uh, yeah, I got it," he said, scratching his forehead as he attempted to keep his gaze from falling to her legs.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, hopping onto the desk so that if he looked at just the right angle, he could see up her skirt. "You seem a little bothered, Mr. Queen."

She lifted a leg, setting her high heel on his lap. His heart rate skyrocketed, eyes eating her up hungrily and not caring at all about the ego-booster it was providing for her. Because he just couldn't resist, he reached forward, wrapping a hand around her ankle. She stared down at him, an almost challenging look on her face. She shifted on the desk, allowing him to see that she was not wearing anything under that skirt.

"Fuck," he muttered, clenching his jaw. "That really is not fair, you know that?"

She giggled, leaning back onto her elbows. "What are you going to do about it?"

He pulled himself towards her by her ankle, sliding his chair forward so that he was directly between her legs. She gasped, small and light, and sent the blood in his veins rushing southwards way too easily. His fingers danced a trail from the straps of her heels to the edge of her skirt. They slipped under the material, stopping right before they would be where she wanted them most.

"I'm tempted to really fucking eat you out right now," he growled, watching as her eyes darkened.

She gave a subtle nod of approval, sucking in a shaky breath. "Oral counts as sex though, remember? You do that, you admit defeat."

He smirked, closing the space between his hands and her heat, and drawing her folds apart. She nearly screamed his name, showing him just how badly she wanted this, how badly she needed this. His eyes were glued to her face as he drew small circles into her. Her breathing was speeding up, eyes fluttering in bliss.

"Judging by how wet you are, I think you might want this a little more than you're letting on."

He slipped a finger inside of her, daring her to tell him he was wrong. All she did was let out a small whimper in response. He pushed a little deeper into her, rubbing just enough pressure to her clit with his thumb to have her panting his name out. Her back arched when he drew out and back in again. Oliver set a pace, sticking to it for a minute or two before switching it up again.

"I'd rather make you come with my mouth," he began after awhile, noticing she was close, "but that's up to you. Just tell me that you want it. Tell me that you want me to eat you out, Felicity. Just say it, and I'll do it. Gladly."

She glared at him, giving him a firm shake of her head. Then, as if to show him she really wasn't going to talk, she took her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down. The sight made him growl, standing up and kicking the chair backwards. He towered over her, pulling the hand that was kneading her upper thigh out from underneath her skirt, and using it to cup her face and bring her lips to his.

His tongue rushed out, parting her lips and sweeping through her mouth. She moaned, the sound getting lost in the back of his throat. He added a second finger inside of her, holding her face to his so that he would swallow her moans of pleasure. As his fingers thrust in and out of her, she tugged at his hair. When he pulled away to refill his lungs, he latched onto her neck and sucked hard.

Seconds later she was coming, clutching onto his shoulders as she arched into his solid frame. His fingers didn't stop, egging her on as she rode down from her orgasm. It wasn't until her grip on him relaxed and her body stopped convulsing that he pulled out of her. Her eyes were on his the whole time, chest heaving so that every exhale made her breasts brush against his chest.

Very slowly, he brought his fingers to his lips, sucking them into his mouth. She watched, lips parted, her eyes dimming once again. Only when he was sure he got all the taste of her off his fingers did he step away, breaking the staring match between them.

"You weren't supposed to taste me," she reminded him, obviously looking for a way to cover up the fact that she had been putty in his hands a couple minutes ago.

He just snickered, taking a seat. "I'm sorry. I was all out of napkins."

She let out a huff of annoyance, hopping off his desk. He leaned back in his chair, amused as he watched her straighten out her skirt. She grabbed a folder she must have brought with her off of his desk, making her way to his door. She paused before she could leave completely, turning around to look at him.

"Hey, Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

She let the ends of her lips curl. "Thank you."

God, Felicity was a mess. Ever since her and Oliver made this little bet, she's been regretting it. Giving up sex with him was just wrong. He was like some sort of god in the bedroom, and it definitely helped that he looked like one, too. Only an insane person would even consider giving up sex with Oliver Queen when he was so willing to oblige. She wanted it. Hell, she needed it. Like everyday.

Sighing, she set her tablet down. It was late and pretty much everyone in the office had gone home for the night. The only one she knew that remained besides herself was Oliver, and that was only because he never left without her. She glanced into his office, seeing his eyes glued to his computer screen. His fingers tapped something out, scrolling and clicking every so often. Whatever he was doing must have been pretty important considering he never focused that hard on anything he didn't feel passionate about.

There was a twitch of his lips before he let a full smile spread out across his features. She couldn't help but be reminded of something that happened earlier that day, when he had done the exact same thing.

They had been coming back from lunch at Big Belly Burger, when someone got onto the elevator with them. She was a woman, a receptionist from the IT Department Felicity had seen around the building a few times. Her eyes had scanned over Oliver in an obvious way, making Felicity's blood boil. Oliver didn't seem to notice, his eyes stuck to Felicity's legs. It was reasons like that she was thankful for moisturizer.

The woman had turned around suddenly, glancing over Oliver and gaining his attention through a throat clearing. Felicity was practically fuming, but managed to keep her cool. Due to her anger, she recalled none of what the woman had said. She knew Oliver responded some and then they reached her floor. She had stepped out of the elevator, giving him one more look-over before treading off.

Felicity had let out a noise of frustration, hearing Oliver's chuckle at her exasperation. She had turned to face him, locking eyes with him, and that was when his lips did the twitchy-smiley thingy. Felicity amused him, and that was enough to keep her from returning to that woman's floor and speaking her mind. They didn't speak of the woman, since she had wanted to wait until she wasn't so mad about it to bring it up. But now, she realized she would probably never not be mad about an attractive woman hitting on her boyfriend.

So, that's what made her turn off her computers for the night, strutting into his office with a new found determination. He looked up at her when she walked in, switching off his computer screen and leaning back in his chair.

"Hey," he greeted, smiling at the sight of her.

"Hey," she returned, gesturing towards his computer. "What were you doing?"

"Research," he answered, letting his expression reveal nothing. "You ready to go?"

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head. He looked curious, but waited for her to speak. She let out a sigh, wondering how she should start this.

"I'd like to talk about that woman from earlier today."

He looked confused, his brows knit together. "What woman?"

"The one from the elevator that was hitting on you," she reminded him, her voice sounding spiteful despite her best efforts.

He nodding his head, showing her he knew what she was talking about. "What about her?"

"She acted like I wasn't even there."

Oliver beckoned her over to him, pulling her onto his lap. "Felicity, we aren't exactly a secret. In fact, I'm almost certain we make the front cover of some magazine every month. I didn't notice she was flirting with me. In all honesty, I was trying not to get caught looking at your legs."

She laughed, already feeling so much better after just a few sentences from him. "You failed that one."

He joined in on her laugh, hanging his head. She ran a hand through his hair, knowing that he loved when she did that. Just as anticipated, he leaned into her touch, shutting his eyes. She kissed him, pulling back before he could respond. His eyes opened into hers, traces of regret barely visible through them. She looked away, mad at herself for making him feel bad about a woman that she knew never stood a chance with him. Oliver cupped her face, drawing her eyes to his.

"If you want, we can walk past her desk tomorrow and I can give you a big kiss in front of her," he offered, making her smile.

"How big?"

"This big," he murmured, right before joining their lips together.

She framed his face with her hands, swiping her thumbs across his cheeks. His head changed angles, allowing him to kiss her deeper. His tongue slipped into her mouth, stroking hers in a passionate duel. When he broke away, they were both breathless and she was flushed. He smiled at her, looking at her swollen lips.

"Okay, I'm in," she agreed, making them both laugh. "Maybe you can even throw in an ass-grab."

"I am more than okay with that idea," he grinned, moving a stray lock of hair behind her ear like he tended to do. "I'll definitely make sure to add it to our schedule. Now, let's go home."

He attempted to lift her off his lap, but she resisted. He gave her a questioning look, opening his mouth to talk, but being silenced by her intentional shift in his lap. He let out a grunt, tilting his head back to look at her.

"Felicity, I can't do this. I really don't think my hand is going to cut it tonight," he told her, begging with his eyes for her to stop.

"What about my hand?" she asked, cupping him through his slacks.

He growled, placing his hand over hers and pressing it down with more force. She could feel him hardening underneath her and tried to keep her body from reacting the way it always did when put in this situation. He watched her, studying her face as his hands guided her to his belt. She broke eye contact since she needed her eyes to unbuckle his belt, moving off of his lap and onto the floor.

Her hands were quick, freeing him from his pants and marveling at the sight. It felt like she hadn't seen him in forever. The whoosh of air he let out to no longer be confined made something inside of her tighten. Her fingers wrapped around him slowly, testing out a timid pace as she moved her hand up and down on him. He shifted further down his chair, getting more comfortable. Her thumb swiped across the head of his erection, making him jerk. She could already feel the moisture between her legs, clamping them together in an effort to relieve the pressure. God, she wanted to taste him.

"If you do that, you're admitting defeat, remember?" he reminded, making her realize she had said that last part out loud.

Her hand pumped faster, clearing the smug look on his face away as his head was thrown back in pleasure. His hands clutched the arm rests on his chair, nails digging into the leather and jaw clenched tight as she worked him. Just like he had done with her, she switched the pace up every so often. Her wrist occasionally twisted in the way she knew drove him crazy. He didn't speak again besides the cursing of her name, until he was warning her that he was close.

Then his body tensed, and he was coming all over her hand. He shouted her name, followed by some obscenities that were muttered under his breath. His body slumped down when he finished, breath escaping in short pants. She stood up to her full height, making sure he was watching as she licked her hand clean.

"You weren't supposed to taste me," he grit, throwing her own words back in her face.

She shrugged, smiling innocently. "I was all out of napkins."

He grinned, shaking his head. "You will be the death of me, Felicity Smoak."

The weekend came around again, and Felicity was busy running errands. Oliver had decided to stay behind when she asked him if he wanted to come with her the day before, telling her he'd probably meet up with Tommy or something. She left an hour after she woke up, so early Oliver was still asleep. Now, hours had past by and she was headed back home. It was almost dark out. Just like what happened every time she was away from Oliver, she missed him. She was looking forward to curling up into his side and telling him all about her day.

That's why as soon as she walked in through the front door, she was calling his name from the bottom of the stairs. She didn't hear a response, so she started up the steps. From the top of the stairs, she could see that the door across from their bedroom was open. Felicity headed for it, peeking through to find Oliver packing some things into a box. She rapped lightly against the door, making his head snap back to look at her.

"Hey," she murmured, cautiously stepping in.

"Hi," he smiled, straightening up.

"What are you doing?"

His smile grew, and he closed the space between them. "While you were gone, I went to grab something to eat with Tommy. We talked about a lot of things before he got to the real reason he wanted to hang out." Oliver paused before continuing. "Laurel's pregnant, Felicity."

"That's great," she said, smiling back. "But I still don't understand what you're doing in here, packing everything up."

"Well, remember when you came into my office and I told you I was doing 'research'?" he asked, receiving a nod. "That research was on local gyms that might be interested in the donation of some of my machines."

"You're donating all of your equipment?"

"Not all of it."

Her brows were knit together. "But why?"

His eyes stared into hers, as if he was trying to figure out a way to tell her something more than the simple explanation she was expecting. "Felicity, from the moment I met you, I knew I wanted something more with you. I wanted something real. We've known each other for over a year now, and it may still be too soon to be discussing this, but I'd like to believe that one day we'll have a family together. You were right when you told me that I have too much space in this house being used for stupid things. That's why I'm selling some of my equipment and clearing this storage room out in case we ever need to use it for a nursery. If that's something you want, of course."

Her eyes had started to water a long time ago, and she could tell by the worried look on his face, he didn't know how to interpret that. "Oliver, of course that's something I want. I want it all, and with you. Everything. Always."

He grinned, pulling her into his embrace and warming her lips with a kiss. They stood there for what felt like forever, kissing in the room that would one day belong to their baby. His hands were on her waist, while her arms were snaked across his neck. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, working her lungs in sync with it. They broke apart, their foreheads resting against each other. His eyes were closed, thumbs rubbing circles into the patch of skin in the slit of her dress.

"You win," she whispered, making his eyes open.

"What?"

"The competition," she clarified. "You win, and I lose."

Her words seemed to register in his mind, because he had suddenly lifted her off the ground, encouraging her legs to wrap around his waist. She obliged, grinding against him some to find him already hard. She really couldn't blame him. Not when her panties were already soaked through.

Oliver held her to him by her thighs, guiding her as she rubbed into him. His head had been buried in her hair, but now he pulled back to capture her lips with his own. His tongue worked so quickly and thoroughly, she almost didn't notice he was moving them. Once she did, it sent a fluttering feeling into her stomach.

God, she loved this man.

They crossed the hallway, Oliver attempting to gently slam her up against the wall. It wasn't so successful, but she didn't have time to think about what her back would feel like in the morning. Oliver had murmured some apology into her lips, which she barely even registered because all she could focus on was his erection digging into her through his pants.

He sucked on her neck, his breath heating her breasts as it escaped through his mouth. She ran her fingers through his hair, moaning his name softly.

"I was going to say it first," he told her, the words so muffled, she almost didn't catch them. "I bought a bottle of your favorite wine, and I was going to make us dinner and tell you that you win."

He pulled away to look at her, finding her expression unreadable.

"What made you finally decide to change your mind?" she asked, staring skeptically at him, as if she thought there was some ulterior motive behind his intentions.

"Well, I realized how stupid it is to have Felicity Smoak in my bed, and refuse to touch her," he explained, smiling slightly. "And then I realized how much more stupid it is to have Felicity Smoak agree to move in with me, and then postpone helping her move in. So, that's why I have another little surprise for you."

She gave him a curious look, and he set her feet back on the ground. He faced their bedroom, crossing his arms over his chest. Felicity followed his gaze, feeling her heart stop. The room was no longer all Oliver's, but a combination of the two of them. He had her books on his bookshelf and her CDs on his CD rack. Her pillows were on the bed, and her tablet was on the nightstand. She could see a small portion of the closet, her dresses hanging inside next to his suits.

He came up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her body. His head fell to the crook of her neck, placing a soft kiss there.

"You can move things around however you like. This was just so that I could use those boxes to pack up the room across the hall."

She was still finding it hard to speak, but managed to sputter out one word. "H-how...?"

"After lunch, I had Tommy help me. Thea and Roy came by to help as well. Diggle came towards the end, but he was a big help in getting all the furniture in the house," Oliver answered. "This isn't all of it, but we can get the rest tomorrow. Do you like it?"

She turned in his arms, tears threatening to run down her face. "Oliver, I love it. I love you. You are perfect."

She kissed him, feeling his smile. His hands held her waist, keeping her in place. She wanted to be moving. She wanted to have her back on the mattress or be straddling his hips, or whatever. She just needed him inside her - and fast.

"Oliver, we don't have to go slow," she breathed, cupping his face.

"Yeah, I know," he said, attempting to kiss her again.

She pulled back. "No, I don't think you do. I'm saying that we shouldn't go slow. I'm saying that if you're not buried inside of me within the next minute, I'm going to implode. Do you understand?"

His mouth gaped open before he nodded hurriedly, wasting no time in lifting his shirt off his body. She bit her lip in approval, running her fingers over the ridges in his abdomen. He spun her around, pulling the gold zipper of her dress all the way down until it fell to the floor in a used heap. He pulled her flush against him, gliding his hands over her bra and then underneath to cup her breasts. She unclasped it, dropping to her knees to focus on getting his pants off.

She couldn't resist touching him through the material, grinning at his frustrated groans. Deciding she'd teased him enough, she popped open the button, dragging the zipper down. Tugging at each pant leg, she finally had them down enough for him to kick off. She rose to her full height, only to be tossed onto the mattress by his muscular arms.

She let out a yelp of surprise, smacking his shoulder as he hovered over her, chuckling. His lips found hers again, his hands lifting her off the bed quick enough for him to slip her panties off. The urge for him to take her was making her skin itch. That's why she nearly tore his boxers off of him, taking his length in her hand and stroking him desperately.

"Stop," he panted, throwing his head into her chest as he swung into her hand involuntarily.

She listened, pulling her hand away and setting it in his dampened hair. Felicity felt his hand as it slid between them to grip himself, and held her breath as she awaited the moment he would be one with her again. At first, all she could feel was his tip teasing her folds, and all she could hear was the groans Oliver was already letting out.

"Fuck, Felicity," he growled, pushing into her with such ease. "You are so fucking wet."

In one single thrust he was filling her completely, sinking into her body with his own. Her nails dug into his back, arching forward on the mattress as she tried to keep her screams to a minimum. He watched her, only moving once she had flattened out again. Then he thrust forward, beginning a slow pattern that clearly wasn't enough for them.

Sex for them wasn't always fast. They did have those nights where they took their time. Oliver would always make her come with his fingers or his mouth or even both sometimes, before he entered her. She would always taste him or work him up with her hand before they got to the good stuff as well. Then, he would move slow, timing his thrusts and working her to the very brink before they both tipped over together.

That was not the case tonight.

He moved fast, his muscles rippling as his skin pounded against hers. She bit down onto his shoulder, making him curse. His fingers were gripping her waist so tightly, she wondered if there would be bruises there the next time she looked. Whether or not that was the case, she really didn't care. She loved seeing the proof of him on her body; almost as much as she loved seeing the proof of herself on his.

One particular image popped into her head of him in the shower, standing underneath the sprays. He had been rinsing the shampoo from his hair, eyes closed to prevent any soap from stinging them. She was in front of him, raking her eyes over his body. There were dark marks along his v-line and scattered across his abs. Those had come from the day before when he was in the gym, and she just couldn't resist.

Now, she was sure there would be scratch marks on his back from her nails. She liked the way those looked, too. She'd have time to admirer them in the morning, either in the shower, or during his daily workout, or any other of the points in her day when she found him shirtless.

Oliver swung into her at a slightly different angle, making her mouth fall open as she felt her orgasm looming over her shoulders. He smirked at her reaction, muttering something about how sexy she was, before kissing her. His hot tongue entered her mouth, stealing her cries as he continued to ram into her from the new position.

It didn't take long for her to orgasm, and a lot of that had to do with how skilled Oliver was in that department than just the fact that she hadn't gotten laid in a while. He followed immediately after her, burying his face into her blonde hair as he cried her name. His body remained slumped over hers for a few more moments as they attempted to even out their breathing patterns.

After awhile, he drew back, studying her face. She smiled, pulling him next to her on the bed. They got under the covers, her setting her head on the pillows from her house that she hadn't slept on in what felt like ages. She frowned, and Oliver noticed.

"What is it?" he asked, brushing her hair out of her eyes and behind her ear.

"My pillow... It doesn't smell like you," she explained, trying not to sound completely insane for missing the comforting scent of him on her linens.

He chuckled, reaching behind him to pull out an extra pillow for her. "Here."

She took it from him, replacing her old one. She took a deep inhale, smiling to herself. He watched her, grinning.

"Much better," she murmured, opening her eyes into his. "Thank you."

He shook his head, staring at her with a warmth she couldn't describe. "I love you more than you could ever know, Felicity Smoak."

"You promise?"

He nodded. "I do."

A/N: Review please! Every single one is appreciated and they keep me inspired!