she's so hot!

anonymous asked:

Can you write about Sara way more in your fics? She's so fucking hot and like??? I need more???

So I actually wrote this for a prompt my girlfriend gave me months ago (whoopsadasie it took me so long to get to), and since I’m in a Sara mood (and apparently yall are too), here, have some SmoakingCanary.

This was not quite the way Felicity had anticipated her Chanukah going.

Stuck in the airport because her flight home to Vegas was delayed? That wasn’t the surprising part. That was the typical part.

No, the part that was surprising was that, sitting in the terminal next to her, legs spread wide, body apparently relaxed but eyes intensely alert, was Sara Lance.

“I’m sorry,” Felicity turned and told her for what Sara counted as the sixteenth time in the hour since the delay had been announced. And that wasn’t even accounting for all the times that Felicity had opened her mouth, caught Sara’s sidelong glance, and closed it again without saying anything.

“Ollie wanted to make sure you get on your plane safe,” Sara had explained with a small smirk for the first four times. “It’s not your fault it’s delayed.”

Now, Sara just looked at her, saw the genuine concern in her eyes as the announcement went up that the flight was delayed for yet another hour.

“Come on,” Sara determined as the would-be passengers around them started to groan and disperse angrily. She rose faster than Felicity could track, and she held her hand out to her, waggling her fingers.

Felicity accepted her hand with wide, tentative eyes and tried to ignore the way Sara’s touch made her pulse race. Sara didn’t make that any easier when she gave Felicity a lopsided grin and, in one fluid motion, hoisted Felicity’s carry on over her shoulder and took her rolling suitcase into her hand briefcase-style.

“Where are we going?”

“Only place to go this time of night in a small town airport like this: the bar.”

“Whatever’s on tap for me, and uh – for the lady?”

The bottom threatened to drop out of Felicity’s stomach at the way Sara turned to her, the way her lips quirked into a subtle grin, the way she took care to make sure neither of Felicity’s bags touched the ground, the way she lifted them with almost exaggerated ease. The way her eyes burned with chivalry and with mild, but deeply affectionate, suggestion.

The salmon ladder came unbidden to Felicity’s mind.

The gentleness of Sara’s utterly lethal hands on her bare skin when she stitched her up.

She wondered, not for the first time – and hated herself for wondering – how Sara learned to stitch flesh together.

She realized with a slight jolt that Sara’s sharp, soft eyes were on her, and so were the haggard-looking bartender’s.

“Oh. For me. To drink. Because you said the lady and I was looking around for a dame or a – you’re not interested in my – tequila. A shot of tequila.” She dared to glance at Sara’s kind but amused eyes.

“Double. A double shot. Of tequila. Not arrows or bullets or – “

“Felicity,” Sara interrupted softly, no trace of annoyance in her rich voice, but a hint of something that Felicity thought might be warning.

That the bartender might start to ask questions if she kept rambling like that.

That Sara might kiss her if she kept rambling like that.

She had no idea where that thought came from. None at all.

She kicked back the shot almost the moment the bartender set it in front of her.

“Where’s the fire?” Sara wondered aloud as she nodded at the bartender, gestured that he should keep the change, and sipped at her beer.

“I’m seeing my mother soon. Well, not soon, at the rate this flight’s getting delayed. But you know. Never can be too prepared.”

Sara watched her fiddle with her empty shot glass thoughtfully.

“Tough when parents don’t quite know how to love their kids.”

Felicity’s eyes flew wide and she reached out as though to touch Sara’s arm, but stopped frustratingly short.

“I’m sorry, Sara, I didn’t – I shouldn’t be whining to you of all people about family issues – “

Sara’s rueful chuckle cut her off. “Well, who else would you talk to? Oliver’s father tasked him with returning from hell to save his city, his mother and sister mean everything to him but don’t know who he is; John’s still so haunted by his brother’s death he can barely think about anything else. I’d say I’m as good a bet as you’ve got. So… not so easy with your mom?”

Felicity blinked, feeling mildly like she had when Oliver, Dig, and Sara had been standing around shirtless – why are you focusing on the shirtless part, don’t think about the shirtless part, who thinks about the shirtless part or how far down the contours of her abs go? – comparing battle scars.

You’re cute.

“It’s nothing worth complaining about.” Her stomach growled of its own accord and she straightened. “Hey. You know what I want?”

Sara’s lips twitched again and Felicity found herself wondering if Sara thought of her as a friend or as entertainment. The warmth in her eyes made a forceful argument for the former.

“You think any of the restaurants are open this late here?”

“No,” the bartender grunted before Sara got the chance. “You want more liquor, I’m your guy. You want food? Logic of the joint seems to be you should’ve thought about that earlier.”

Sara arched an eyebrow at him and set her unfinished beer back on the bar. “Come on,” she beckoned Felicity, something gleaming in her eyes that told her not to ask – not yet – where they were going.

She just gulped as Sara effortlessly gathered her bags again, laughing softly, more to herself than anything else, when Felicity reached to try and help.

Felicity blinked and opened and closed her mouth rapidly, helpless to do anything but follow Sara.

“So… where are we going?” she asked when she caught up, and she knew – because she knew Sara, she knew Oliver, and hell, she knew John – that Sara was casing the place.

Even more than she did everywhere she went, automatically.

Sara smirked and tilted her head toward Felicity but kept her eyes sweeping around the mostly empty airport. “You’re hungry.”

Felicity flushed. “I’m fine. I’m not a kid, I can wait – “

“Hunger isn’t childish. It hurts,” Sara said softly, and Felicity wondered, for the thousandth time, how in the hell this woman could still smile. Could still be soft. Could still stand. Could still breathe.

“Sara, I’m okay,” she tried again in a gentle voice, putting her hand softly on Sara’s forearm. They both looked down at the place their skin touched, and they both lost themselves for a moment in a universe of what ifs.

Sara found her way out first, that sparkle that so awed Felicity sparking back into her eyes.

“It’s not problem,” she told her, jerking her head toward the locked-up snack bar behind them.

Almost before Felicity could react, Sara was on her knees, making quick work of the lock with the penknife in her boot. Without hesitation and without breaking rhythm, she scoped out three of Felicity’s favorite protein bars and a couple of hummus-cracker packets she had such a weakness for.

She didn’t ask how Sara knew, because she knew how much Sara had been trained to observe, to retain. To store in her mind in case survival needed her to remember one day.

Suddenly, Sara straightened with a lightening speed that almost made Felicity gasp.


Because suddenly, Sara’s soft lips were on hers.

She almost squeaked and she definitely swooned, but Sara’s hands – free, now, so she must have stashed the snacks somewhere – were firm and strong yet so, so small on Felicity’s back, in her hair. Felicity wasn’t sure what or why, but she was abundantly sure how Sara’s lips were making her feel, and she sighed into the kiss, opening her mouth for Sara’s gentle tongue, and Sara did something Felicity had never dreamed she could make someone as unshakeable as Sara do: Sara moaned softly and – unless Felicity was completely imagining things, which to be honest seemed fairly possible at the moment – nearly swooned.

But then Felicity was gasping for breath – gasping into empty, empty air, not Sara’s warm mouth – and her entire body keened with the loss.

It took her a few long moments to realize that Sara was speaking.

“I’m sorry, Felicity, I… that’s not how I normally like to kick things off with such a beautiful woman, but uh…” She jerked her head back toward an airport security guard who must have just passed behind them. “Ollie told me to take care of you, and getting caught and getting above the radar by stealing very valuable airport snacks wouldn’t have qualified… Kissing tends to be a good way to make people avert their eyes, or at least pay attention to different things… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just wanted to protect you without having to get into an altercation. I am so sorry.”

Felicity blinked rapidly and fought not to adjust her glasses, not to grab Sara’s face and pull her back in for another round.

“Uncomf – un – no, why would you have made me – I’m single, you’re single, girls can be single together, or not single together, or in your case, not that you even liked it – “

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, Felicity – “

“No, it’s okay, you were just doing your job. Not that I’m your job. Or that you were doing me. Just that you were – “


Sara’s eyes were warm and her eyes flickered down to Felicity’s lips slowly, adoringly, leaving her with no doubt that no. No, Sara hadn’t just been doing her job. Or at least, it hadn’t been an unpleasant part of doing her job.

But she might very well like to do Felicity, if she wanted.

“Yeah.” She was breathless and she was hopeful and she was suddenly very, very glad her flight had been postponed.

“You’re still cute.”

anonymous asked:

are we not going to discuss Camila's pic in Fault w the 50 shades belt thing looped around her? she looks so hot & sexy there. I mean, it's so her to leave her hair tie on her wrist & it makes it more hot bc its so Camila to do that, its so pure & innocent. but she also knows how to work her sensual side & I think one MOSTLY learns to do that thru sexual experience. may it be just kissing or w/e, I think our lil bean is not all innocent no more. like L's rb says; "she's not an angel' ;)

From angel to seductress😏

i happened upon this picture of Melissa bts and it’s just…too much??? like. the tshirt?? cradling the tiny precious dog?! and look at her fucking arm. i mean i really have a soft spot for athletes lol but are you joking?? get this away from me.