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( INBOX )
TEXT ➵ AUDIO ➵ VIDEO ➵ ACTION
[ luckily enough, she catches him at a time when he isn't doing something dubious. he's not big on video chats but it does give him the opportunity to match a voice to a face. he recognizes her and he knows precisely from where. ]
...Hi. What can I do for you?
...Hi. What can I do for you?
I'm not sure that's as bad as you make it sound, all things considered. [ he'd certainly prefer it if nobody from starling city or central city was here. ] So far, every tech savvy person I've talked to hasn't been able to trace the signal. It's like it's coming from nowhere and everywhere simultaneously.
As soon as I find something substantial, I'll let you know.
As soon as I find something substantial, I'll let you know.
Believe me, the feeling's mutual. But as far as I can tell, there's no getting around it. [ he's working on it, trying to squeeze his way into the system. something that will work much better once he contracts up and portrays himself as a submissive that likes his role in the world. ] Did you get your talk show up and running?
[ he hadn't shown his face last time but he recognizes her username. ]
[ he hadn't shown his face last time but he recognizes her username. ]
[ It's clearly a photo not meant for this recipient, or even if it's something Wynonna would've gotten around to sending eventually there probably would've been more build-up than this but there are no takebacks where this latest hacking issue is concerned.
When Oliver checks his device next he'll be getting something that doesn't necessarily show her face, but maybe her thighs look familiar? Or her knees, because it's a photo she's snapped at some point for someone, bare legs bent up slightly and black lace thong obstructing any real view of certain bits — but there's also the hand she's got slipped underneath the fabric, clearly being used to touch herself.
So... not the most embarrassing selfie that could've been sent out to someone unplanned, but pretty awkward, all things considered. ]
When Oliver checks his device next he'll be getting something that doesn't necessarily show her face, but maybe her thighs look familiar? Or her knees, because it's a photo she's snapped at some point for someone, bare legs bent up slightly and black lace thong obstructing any real view of certain bits — but there's also the hand she's got slipped underneath the fabric, clearly being used to touch herself.
So... not the most embarrassing selfie that could've been sent out to someone unplanned, but pretty awkward, all things considered. ]
I thought you might like these. I had them taken just for you.
[attach.jpg]
[did she? have them taken just for him? entirely likely, but definitely probably not meant for this moment. still, she has no control over them being sent and... away they go.]
[attach.jpg]
[did she? have them taken just for him? entirely likely, but definitely probably not meant for this moment. still, she has no control over them being sent and... away they go.]
[ problematic. that's the word he would pick. his device vibrates, pulling him away from his current objective and he's left sucking in a hiss through his teeth because that's not—is anyone looking? how long has his screen been open? he'd opened the message thoughtlessly, taken a sip of his drink, and yeah. yup. mhm. choking's nice. feels great. sputtering ( jesus, oliver, how old are you? ) only draws more attention and he sinks in his seat and cups his hand over the screen, desperately longing for privacy covers. composing a reply takes a few minutes, perhaps longer, as he tries to wrap his head around why this happening; he can grasp the what.
because he does ( god help him ) recognize those thighs and the username. but just to be sure: ]
Wynonna?
[ what else is there to say? he doesn't want to come across as over or under enthusiastic but the photograph's coming from out of nowhere. ]
because he does ( god help him ) recognize those thighs and the username. but just to be sure: ]
Wynonna?
[ what else is there to say? he doesn't want to come across as over or under enthusiastic but the photograph's coming from out of nowhere. ]
[ just for you. that's the minimal warning he gets before the pictures download and he's left staring at felicity in an over-sized white dress shirt ( probably another man's — thanks for that, brain ) and a lacy black bra. at least he's alone this time. he suspects, after wynonna's message and the way they left things that this message isn't actually intended for him. why would it be — because from her timeline, the two of them are married? funny how that works, logic. it doesn't really stop him from wanting it to be true. ]
Felicity, what's going on?
Felicity, what's going on?
[the shirt is borrowed, the lace is hers, the photos are for him. taken before their disastrous dinner and put on hold since then, she's unaware that he's received them.]
In general? I'm severely lacking caffeine and from the sound of it, so are you.
In general? I'm severely lacking caffeine and from the sound of it, so are you.
Photos?
[Her sent history shows... oh dear.]
You weren't supposed to get those.
I mean, you WERE. Just not yet. I was saving them for after.
Later. I meant later.
How DID you get those? I didn't send those.
[Her sent history shows... oh dear.]
You weren't supposed to get those.
I mean, you WERE. Just not yet. I was saving them for after.
Later. I meant later.
How DID you get those? I didn't send those.
[ none of that's actually smoothing any of this over. she posed in her underwear for him, no matter how he looks at when he was supposed to receive them. ( if he was supposed to. ) after what? ]
You sent them to me. They came from your username. They had to have come from your device. [ she's the expert with tech, isn't she? ] How else would I receive them?
You sent them to me. They came from your username. They had to have come from your device. [ she's the expert with tech, isn't she? ] How else would I receive them?
[WHAT?]
I am not drunk texting you my lingerie selfies, Oliver. If I want to text you inappropriate things, I will. I don't need an excuse.
[It's probably not actually appropriate, in their current status as married-but-not-together to send him a shot of her in her current state, which is in bed, in only a dark green t-shirt (the color is incidental, really) with the hem of said shirt barely reaching her thighs. The sheet is thrown back specifically for this photo.]
I'm not even wearing lingerie at this moment.
I am not drunk texting you my lingerie selfies, Oliver. If I want to text you inappropriate things, I will. I don't need an excuse.
[It's probably not actually appropriate, in their current status as married-but-not-together to send him a shot of her in her current state, which is in bed, in only a dark green t-shirt (the color is incidental, really) with the hem of said shirt barely reaching her thighs. The sheet is thrown back specifically for this photo.]
I'm not even wearing lingerie at this moment.
[ forget every complaint he ever made about the island. this is hell. he should turn his phone off, flip it over, ignore any vibrations that tell him there's another message. he should leave. does he? no, he's leaning back against the wall in his presently single-occupied room and trying to picture her in bed — which is no. no! he's not going there right now. he can hold out. they're just thighs. really smooth-looking thighs that he's not thinking about wrapped around him.
because that's also a no. a big no. ]
You're barely wearing anything at this moment.
[ and whatever part of him that isn't supposed to encourage her pretty much vacated the premises the second he chose to respond. ]
So which is it? You meant to send me inappropriate pictures or you didn't?
because that's also a no. a big no. ]
You're barely wearing anything at this moment.
[ and whatever part of him that isn't supposed to encourage her pretty much vacated the premises the second he chose to respond. ]
So which is it? You meant to send me inappropriate pictures or you didn't?
[he should forget the vibrations and turn his phone to silent if he wants to ignore the texts coming his way. it's the agreement that she's not wearing much that brings to her attention that she really just sent him a photo of her bare legs - though it could have been so much worse - and she decides in that moment that it can. it can get so much worse.
in for a penny...]
I didn't mean to send the first, but I definitely meant to send the second.
[this time, the shirt is hiked high on her hip so he can see the edge of her panties and the skin above... nothing too racy. a little bit of her side, a bit of her stomach. that's it, really. hell, maybe the shirt slipped. but the photo is deliberate and so is the fact that she's sending it in 3... 2... 1.]
I could be wearing less if I lost the shirt.
in for a penny...]
I didn't mean to send the first, but I definitely meant to send the second.
[this time, the shirt is hiked high on her hip so he can see the edge of her panties and the skin above... nothing too racy. a little bit of her side, a bit of her stomach. that's it, really. hell, maybe the shirt slipped. but the photo is deliberate and so is the fact that she's sending it in 3... 2... 1.]
I could be wearing less if I lost the shirt.
[ she shuts down his skepticism with one sentence.
he rubs his hand over his face, takes a breath and stares down at the screen for too long. apparently, giving felicity enough time to tug at the hem of her shirt and draw it up the side of her body. nothing blatantly filthy but suggestive enough that oliver sits straight up in bed, one leg over the side as his foot hits the floor. there's a zoom function he's completely disregarding as he holds the screen closer. she tells him she could ditch the shirt. as if that little flash of skin, a hint of her stomach, the top of her panties isn't enough to get the wheels turning. ]
Keep the shirt on. [ not just because it's green. ] Lose the underwear. That's what I'd hook my thumbs in if I were there to take them off of you.
[ ...in for a pound. he'd feel bad, if literally EVERYTHING didn't turn him on lately. everything. ]
he rubs his hand over his face, takes a breath and stares down at the screen for too long. apparently, giving felicity enough time to tug at the hem of her shirt and draw it up the side of her body. nothing blatantly filthy but suggestive enough that oliver sits straight up in bed, one leg over the side as his foot hits the floor. there's a zoom function he's completely disregarding as he holds the screen closer. she tells him she could ditch the shirt. as if that little flash of skin, a hint of her stomach, the top of her panties isn't enough to get the wheels turning. ]
Keep the shirt on. [ not just because it's green. ] Lose the underwear. That's what I'd hook my thumbs in if I were there to take them off of you.
[ ...in for a pound. he'd feel bad, if literally EVERYTHING didn't turn him on lately. everything. ]
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