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English
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Published:
2015-07-28
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1,492
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1/1
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23
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Worst Faux Pas Ever

Summary:

Inspired by Paula Abdul's recent verbal blunder.
Felicity: “Oh my God. OH MY GOD! Did she just pull a me? Oliver! Paula just pulled a me!”

Notes:

Hi everyone. So I walked into the living room yesterday while my roommate was watching “So You Think You Can Dance” and Paula Abdul made an accidental innuendo that had Felicity written all over it. I don’t actually watch the show, but I had to stick around after that. Listening to Paula as she backtracked was too funny.

Please keep in mind I haven’t posted fanfiction in YEARS. I read it and comment on it often, as some of you may know, but I haven’t written my own since the beginning of college. I’ve been tempted, Olicity is the most worthwhile muse in existence, and I’ve had a few other ideas for a while, but this fluffy one-shot finally broke me. I spent most of my morning concocting this instead of working so enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Felicity gapes at the screen for a moment, her mouth imitating a gold fish and then she shrieks, “Oh my God. OH MY GOD! Did she just pull a me? Oliver! Paula just pulled a me!”

Oliver steps out of the kitchen with a mixing bowl and whisk in hand. “What?” He walks up behind the couch, his eyes zeroing in on Felicity as she watches a DVR’d episode of “So You Think You Can Dance”.

Felicity continues, shaking her head as Paula stumbles over her words, “Paula freakin Abdul just unintentionally innuendo-ed a male dancer on national television. She said and I quote, “I always like watching your package”, end quote. It’s not what she meant obviously, but yeah.”

Oliver chuckles as he continues mixing the pancake batter, his attention also now focused on the disaster playing out onscreen as the other judges tease Paula for her faux pas. “Wow that is embarrassing.”

Felicity nods enthusiastically, “I know! And I thought my babbles were bad.”

Oliver releases a bark of laughter. Felicity turns to with him with narrowed eyes, causing Oliver to roll his own. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who dropped the “Feels good to have you inside me” line.” Felicity slaps a hand to her forehead and releases a loud groan at the mortifying recollection. “The others were understandable, but that one? Yeah, I couldn’t comprehend that phrasing at all; it’s why I told you to stop. There was just no improving that.”

Felicity pouts, “Yeah, definitely one of my worst. I remember thinking there was no escape from the mortifying hole I just dug, so I resigned myself to wallowing in my own personal grave of humiliation for all time with no access to mint chocolate chip. Can you imagine? The horror! Then later of course there was a gun in my face because ya know, scary mob casino, and I was more worried about ending up in an ACTUAL grave rather than an imaginary one and-.” Felicity cuts herself off at the dark, brooding look crawling across Oliver’s face. Congratulations to me, that was a super horrible tangent to wander on, so horrible it needs a cape. Yeah, better not continue that one… And then Felicity gasps dramatically, “Hold on, I thought you liked my babbling? I knew you were lying about that!” Felicity thrusts her hand towards Oliver, forcing him to step out of reach as she points accusingly at his supposed lying face. “You, you…horrible patronizer you!”

Oliver huffs, dropping the whisk in the bowl before grabbing the finger aimed too close to his eye level for comfort. “Watch it. And I wasn’t lying. I DO like your babbling.” He drops a loving kiss to the back of her hand and then another on the platinum band on her ring finger. “It’s endearing, like that first babble about my dad? It was morbid, but I couldn’t not smile at you no matter how hard I tried, you were just too cute.”

Felicity pulls her hand away from him in outrage. “Cute? I don’t want to be remembered as cute. Puppies and kittens are cute. Your first real memory of me, the love of your life, should not be “cute”. It should be beautiful, or sexy, or even funny. Funny, I can handle, but cute?" 

"You called me cute before, that time in the office I told you about."

"No, I called your picture cute and honestly I was speaking in a metaphorical sense because let's be real, that picture was terrible. But anyway, we're not talking about the time you spied on me like some thieving, ARGUS creeper, we're talking about our REAL first encounter which apparently you describe as "cute". Blech, cute is for babies.”

Oliver chuckles and props the mixing bowl on the back of the couch as he leans forward to rub at the swell of her belly. “You mean like this one?” Felicity pushes his traitorous hand away and cradles the bump herself, “Yes, this one, not me. And now you don’t get to touch because you are in time out. I banish you and your so called cute from the Living Room. Now off with you.” Felicity obnoxiously raises her nose in the air and flicks her hand flippantly in direction of the kitchen. “Go make my pancakes. Oh, and do the cleaning while you’re at it.”

Oliver stares at her faux bourgeois expression. “What am I, Cinderella?” “More like Arrowella, but kudos on the reference.”

Oliver shakes his head reverently at her humorous display. Oliver raises his hand to her soft, pink lips and rubs his thumb over the tempting flesh. Felicity tries to pull away in a weak attempt at rebellion, but stops once Oliver bends forward to capture her pouting lips with his own. Felicity hums in response as Oliver nibbles, turning towards him to wrap her arms around his neck. Oliver pulls away after one last lick to see the dreamy expression on Felicity’s face. He smiles at his ability to still kiss her senseless, even when she’s annoyed with him.

“If it makes you feel any better, I saw your soft, kissable lips wrapped around that pen before the famous babble, and we both know how much attention I paid to that.” Felicity smiles softly, her fingers carding through the downy hair at the nape of his neck, “It was red?” Oliver smiles and leans in for a quick peck, “Yes, definitely red. It was a very sexy look that took my mind all sorts of distracting places and you looked very pretty while doing it. Your babble also made me want to laugh so you got your funny as well.”

Felicity grins, “Okay, you’re forgiven”, she chirps before reaching up to dish out a pleasurable kiss of her own. She pulls away after a moment. “I still want those pancakes though so,” Felicity reaches around to smack his ass, “Chop chop.”

Oliver sighs dramatically before returning to the kitchen with a, “Yes, dear”, tossed over his shoulder.

A while later Oliver returns to the living room with 2 stacks of blueberry pancakes drenched in maple syrup. Felicity smiles as he sits next to her on the couch and reaches forward for her plate. She kisses his cheek, “Thank you, husband.”

Oliver hums as they both dig in and focus on the next episode, the sound of chewing and the music from the television filling the room. Halfway through, Oliver finally speaks. “Why is Paula judging this show anyway? Can she even dance that well?”

Felicity gasps, and whips around. “How dare you! Paula is a great dancer and choreographer.”

“Really? All I remember her from is that weird music video with the creepy cartoon cat.”

“You take that back, Oliver Queen! Opposites Attract was not creepy, it was amazing.”

“If you say so”, Oliver resumes eating.

“I do say so; it was one of my favorites as a kid.”

Oliver shrugs, “Okay.”

“Are you patronizing me again?"

“How can I be patronizing you again when we already determined I wasn’t doing it the first time?”

“For your information, Paula Abdul did choreography for Janet Jackson and the Jackson 5, among other things.”

Oliver whistles in astonishment, “Really, Janet? I didn’t know that. She must be good then.”

“Obviously! Ugh, since I am in a good mood, I will forgive your ignorance just this once.”

“Why thank you…The forgiveness is actually the result of the pancakes, isn't it?

“That and because you’re doing the dishes.”

Oliver frowns and releases what he classifies as a "manly" whine, “But you always say the person who cooks doesn’t have to clean.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll be cooking this,” Felicity gesticulates around her middle, “in my oven for about 5 more months so it’s your turn.”

"It’s my turn to clean for 5 months?”

Felicity licks the syrup off her fork, “Yup.”

Oliver’s debates on his denial as his eyes roam over Felicity’s figure. He thinks about all the changes her body already has or will experience: the morning sickness, the mood swings, the excessive tiredness, the constant bathroom runs, the weight gain she is sure to bitch about, the swollen ankles and the actual labor itself. He winces at the last one, Disagreeing now will be the worst faux pas imaginable. A couch worthy one and you, Oliver, do not fit on this thing. Now nod and save yourself. “Yeah, that seems fair.”

“Glad you agree”, Felicity beams as she passes him her now empty plate. “I have such a smart husband.”

“I try.” Oliver says as he takes the dirty dishes back to the kitchen.

Felicity peers over the couch to yell at his back, “And don’t forget to take out the garbage, Arrowella!”

“Yes, dear,” Oliver calls over his shoulder. He pauses mid-step, spinning around to point, "And don't call me that." 

Felicity grins sheepishly before turning back to her show. 

Notes:

I did it! How was it? Drop me a line and let me know. Thanks! :)