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babblingblondegenius · 5 years

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You Can Take the Girl Out of Vegas (but you can’t take Vegas out of the girl)

Hi fam! In lieu of doing a Mancrush Monday post, I decided to write a little something for Fictober. My muse and real life have been uncooperative for quite some time and every word has been a struggle. But I saw the prompt for ‘it will be fun, trust me’ and managed to string about 1500 of them together in a way that I hope makes sense and a fun fanfic. Hope you enjoy! :)

Fandom: Olicity Rating: T Warnings: Tipsy Felicity. Also, no beta. Plot: LOL. It’s Olicity and strip poker. Felicity is winning, until she isn’t. Can she regain the upper hand? (aka there is no plot. Just good old banter and silliness with our favorite couple). Set during Olicity’s summer of love world tour.

"Take it off."

Felicity huffs a resigned sigh at Oliver's request as she deftly removes the stiletto heel from where her left foot is tucked behind her, dangling the silver strappy footwear from her finger before tossing it in his general direction.

"Just so you know, you only won that hand because I was distracted by your...your..," Felicity slurs the words and gestures wildly at his half-naked body,"...ev-er-yyyyyyy-thing."

Secretly relieved he has some tactical advantage against his girlfriend's superior poker skills, he gives a self-satisfied smile in response to her petulant pout. Felicity is still slightly buzzed from her rather lucrative win at the blackjack table earlier, not to mention all the complimentary cocktails bestowed upon his high roller. But that alcohol-induced impaired judgment hasn't stopped her from dominating every hand they've played since returning to their suite from the hotel's opulent casino and she suggested a 'friendly' game of strip poker. “It will be fun, trust me,” she purrs in an attempt to be flirtatious but is just adorable when accompanied by her signature wink-blink. Either way, he can’t ever say no to her and that’s an offer he doesn’t want to refuse.

The game started in his favor, or so he thought, since Felicity didn't appear to be wearing as many articles of clothing as he was. Just the deep-vee neck curve-hugging like a second skin hot pink gown that has been driving him crazy all night and the shoes she referred to as her ‘lucky heels.’ She only gave a coy smile when he inquired about undergarments. The vast amount of cleavage make him pretty confident that she isn't wearing a bra and lack of panty lines conjure up an image of her favorite black lace thong but he really wants to find out firsthand.

Instead, her gown is still covering those luscious curves and he's only managed to get one shoe. Conversely, she is in possession of both his shoes, along with his socks, suit jacket, bow tie, suspenders, and white dress shirt, leaving him barefoot and bare from the waist up.

"It's your turn to deal," Felicity reminds him tersely, holding out the deck while trying to look anywhere but at him. Taking the cards from her, he manages to not-so-accidentally brush his fingers along the soft skin of her inner wrist. He can't help but notice the involuntary shiver and the goosebumps that skitter up her arm. Her reaction to his touch only fuels his desire to win.

He shuffles the deck, showing off with a couple of fancy techniques, one of the few things he learned in college, and flexing way more than necessary. She doesn't seem to be paying attention, still looking everywhere else except at him, but the lip bite is one of her tells and he knows she noticed the bulging of his biceps.

Oliver deals the cards and peruses his hand. As luck would have it, he has three sevens, the best hand he's had all night.

He is so getting her other shoe.

Carefully schooling his features so Felicity won't see the excitement that is bubbling up in his chest, he casually glances at her, noticing that she is still worrying her bottom lip and studiously avoiding his gaze.

Oliver has spent the last seven weeks since they drove away from Star City learning everything he didn't already know about Felicity Megan Smoak and every piece of newfound knowledge, down to the most minute detail, is embedded in his psyche.

Seemingly forever, if their history is any indication. Like the exact day they met. What color pen she had in her mouth that day. Her fear of heights, kangaroos, and all things pointy. The way she would dance and spin in her chair when she didn't know he was watching through the glass partition at QC. The sound of her loud voice when she's angry.

The fact that he noticed everything and could never forgot anything he knew about her tormented him all those days, weeks, months, when he was struggling to deny his feelings for her, when he was convinced she was better off without him.

But now, finally, today is the day his Felicity-centered eidetic memory is working in his favor.

Because that particular lip bite, coupled with the subtle peeking out of her tongue to moisten that plump, kissable bottom lip, means that she is aroused.

He watches for a moment more, as she rearranges the cards in her hand and shifts her legs, seemingly pressing her thighs together under the constricting fabric of her long gown.

Oh yeah, definitely aroused.

Bracing his elbows on his knees, he leans forward to get her attention. "Fe-li-ci-ty," he murmurs in that special voice that is only for her, "it's your turn." Not able to resist taunting her just a little, he smiles and asks sweetly, "Are you going to hold on to what you have?"

She purses her lips and tilts her head, reminding him of the day he walked into her life with a bullet-ridden laptop and a bad lie that she saw right through. When he thinks about that, it makes perfect sense that she is beating the pants off him, almost literally at this point, because she could always tell when he is bluffing. She discards one card and draws another. Seemingly satisfied, she waits for him to fold or hold. He tries to build up some suspense but he only lasts about 30 seconds before declining to draw. Felicity eyes him up and down and he feels the heat from her gaze inflame his skin. Her smile is a feral combination of sultry and smug as she lays down her cards and reveals she has two pair.

Oliver nods in acknowledgement before he lays his cards down on the carpet in front of him, showing Felicity he has the winning hand. Again. Her outrage, as evidenced by her narrowed eyes and heaving chest, at his second consecutive win does not escape his attention but he is more focused on her foot. More particularly, how to remove her shoe from her foot. There are only three straps holding it on but he can't find any buckles and the straps don't give an inch when he pulls on them.

“Could you just…,” he pleads.

But she just shakes her head. "Okay, Cheaty McCheaterson, how'd you manage to stack the deck without me noticing, huh? Were you letting me win earlier? Was being naked part of your strategy all along? "

Wow, he’s not sure whether to be insulted or flattered. But he loses track of her rant when she reaches for the back of her shoe and slowly unzips it, easing it off her foot. He reaches over to collect his prize and can’t resist wrapping his hand around her foot, skating his thumb across the arch up to her toes.

"Felicity, I didn't--I wouldn't--cheat," adding under his breath, "no matter how much I want that dress off of you."

Her eyes widen at his admission and she licks her lips. "That's it...you're going down."

Abruptly letting go of her foot, he chokes on her choice of words but she seems oblivious to her double entendre. His throat is suddenly as dry as the Nevada desert they drove through just a day ago so he turns over on his hands and knees, crawling over to the mini-bar to grab a bottle of water.

He doesn’t even have the cap off before he feels her hand on his ass. She plasters herself to his backside and whispers in his ear, "This dress could be off in the next five seconds if you'll concede that I won."

Oliver steels himself against the onslaught of her soft curves pressing into him and her enticing ultimatum. "Nope. No way, not conceding. We each have two pieces of clothes on. It's a tie."

Felicity giggles and somehow manages to press herself even closer to him. Her hands glide around his waist, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and wrap around him in a makeshift hug. Her warm breath tickles the nape of his neck, the words whispering across his sensitive skin, "It's only a tie if I'm wearing panties.....which I'm most definitely not."

Desperately trying to tamp down the sudden surge of arousal at that piece of information, he grits out, "You do realize you just admitted that I'm actually winning and gave me incentive to keep playing, don't you?"

Felicity responds by stroking her palm straight down the middle of his abs, until her finger reaches the waistband of his pants, giving the button a tug. "Or I just gave you incentive to forfeit this game for much more fun one. Dealer’s choice, Mr. Queen."

FIN

So, fam, what do we think Oliver decided to do? ;) Hint: if I could write smut, this would have been a lot longer lol. Thank you so much for reading! I <3 you all! Since I didn’t do Mancrush Monday, here’s a visual of shirtless Oliver staring at Felicity while she tries to ignore him.

Also, here’s a pic of Felicity’s lucky heels. They are very lucky indeed! ;)

#fictober19 #olicity fanfiction #olicity fic #olicity #i just want them to be happy #even if i have to write it myself

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