Chapter Text
Felicity Smoak knew she was socially awkward. It was okay. She’d accepted that part of herself a long time ago. Sure, it made for some embarrassing interactions, but it was not something she was ashamed of. Her mind simply moved too fast.
It never occurred to her, though, that a lack of brain-to-mouth filter might have an effect in the opposite direction. Because that must be the reason why the sensations on her lips went shooting straight past all thought to short-circuiting her brain. It sent electric tingles along her jaw, curling up the base of her head— no, wait, that was his fingers doing that.
Oliver’s lips, however, were pressed against hers, a hungry caress that was slipping into her, until she wasn’t sure whose hunger she was feeling—his or hers. She angled her head up for more, please— or was that his hand doing that, fingers burying themselves into her hair and gently raking her scalp. A delicious shudder worked down her spine—she hadn’t realized her scalp was an erogenous zone.
Was her brain still working?
Dimly, she felt her hair fall free of its ponytail. A tiny moan escaped her lips only to strangle itself into a whimper as Oliver gently nipped her bottom lip between his teeth. That wasn’t playing fair, she thought.
"Really? This hasn’t felt like an even playing field in a long time,” he murmured, chuckling out a breath.
"What? Oh. So the lack of brain-to-mouth filter thing still—"
Oliver moved down to kissing her chin, her jaw, her neck—Oh. Her eyes shuttered. Hell, who needed a brain right now.