#so i went down a rabbit hole to get definitive proof that he sleeps in his living room

[mismatchsocks]

currently fixated on figuring out how wills living room is set up. having much fun!

[unseeliefaelass]

Darksiders: Origins

Chapter 4: Growing Up Fast

Ale worked extra hard to aid in the growth of the infants. The others grew into toddlers within months, and Ale of course wanted to let them explore the world more at this time. Absalom being ever loyal however, asked Lilith about the matter. She agreed upon it, but only so that she didn't have to teach them the basics.

Lilith did give one condition though, "Ale will not teach them to walk or speak. I'll only entrust this important task to you. As their growth is becoming faster each day, I'll need to prepare for when they're big enough for training to begin."

"Of course Mother, but..when will they be 'big enough' as you say?", Absalom inquired.

"Don't worry my child, time is moving fast for them and us. They will be ready soon. Though admittedly I'm surprised the littlest one is still alive. Much more that you keep trying despite the much slower progress he's making."

Absalom stood up from his seat, "Ale has said to keep up faith in him. It's hard sure, but I have seen progress. That's good enough reason to keep trying for now."

Lilith snickered, "Ehehmhmhmhmhm. Be at ease now, I could never cause you grief."

Nodding, Absalom headed away to see how Ale was managing things. She already had Menahem out for the day and was trying to encourage him to crawl around. He was mainly interested in the Limts sniffing at him though.

Absalom nearly pulled out his axe upon seeing them before Ale raised a gentle hand, "Steady now. These Limts won't hurt him. They're just little rodents is all, besides there's no dragon crystals around for them to eat and go feral over."

"What?"

"Oh nothing. Just know Menahem is safe and fine. I've been trying to teach him to crawl, but he's been wanting to say hi to the Limts." Ale assured him.

Absalom looked down at the diminutive creatures, "Very...fluffy. Though, why are they here?"

"My kin and I make our clothes from their fur. To obtain it we keep domestic groups and sheer them when it's appropriate. Their fur grows back quickly too, so there's nothing for them to worry about in the cold climate here."

"Uhm...well...I see. May I try coaxing him to crawl?"

"Of course. Just bare in mind he's a little slow to respond. Wondering if maybe it's a sensory overload." Ale tells him.

"Well..we'll just have to work on that then."

Absalom then crouched down and tried getting Menahem's attention. Snapping his fingers when speaking didn't work much. Ale cocked her head at his impatience but let him keep trying as best he could. Eventually he waved his hand in front of Menahem's face. Finally the child looked toward his older brother curiously. After a nervous few moments Menahem finally slowly made his way to Absalom. Crawling slowly but steadily as he moved forward.

Absalom scooped him up once he finally made it to his hands, "There we are, not so hard now is it?"

Menahem only cooed in response before yawning. Absalom just shrugged and handed him to Ale. She giggled, then stood up to return Menahem to his pod to sleep. From there she worked on getting his pod and the others into tip top shape. Absalom helped where he could, having been taught to by Ale.

Once Menahem was put into his pod though, Absalom warned Ale, "Be careful how long you keep them out for. She is..watching very closely you know."

"I know, but I truly feel it's been helping. At least with Menahem anyway. I'll admit I'm a little excited about teaching him things like walking."

"Actually Ale....Lilith has asked me to handle teaching them to walk and talk. She doesn't want you involved in that process."

Ale's eyes quickly widened in shock before they settled just as fast. Ale knew Lilith already didn't like her much. Her spending all this time around the little ones likely wasn't helping things either. Whilst she could understand Lilith's reasons and that Absalom would likely do fine enough, she was still a bit upset. Her ears barely drooping as Ale fought to force them to stay perked as she gave the same smile she always had, "I see...well I'll still attend to my duties as needed. Even if I'll be missing out on an important milestone. But I understand Lilith's...concerns, and thus I shall abide by her wishes. I was commissioned after all, and as the provider of service I'd best do as was promised."

Absalom was certain she was hiding something, but couldn't be sure. He ultimately chose to speak to Llildan about it. The old rabbit only sighed heavily upon being informed of the situation. Approaching Ale later that day whilst she was caring for the Limts outside. Feeding and grooming them all for their excess fluff. She didn't trim them this time, only brushed them thoroughly.

She was on the final Limt as Llildan came up, "I warned you to not look too useful."

"And I have abided by that much. Lilith just isn't fond of me, though that is putting it lightly I'm sure."

Llildan's eyes narrowed, their red glow intensifying a slight, "I've no doubt she'll kill you one day if you keep going above and beyond as you are now."

Ale's eyes glanced his way, "I'm remaining alert."

"Not nearly enough girl. Not if she's continued to notice you and is simmering over it. I'm serious Ale, you're overdoing it. And you're really REALLY pushing your luck."

"I'll be fine. I'm aware she doesn't want me teaching them to talk or walk, probably other basics too. And I intend to follow her wishes. I just know the smallest one needs the most attention as of this time. Hence why I bring him out often, to ensure he's doing well and growing as best he can. Is that truly so wrong if I have proof it's helped him?"

"Atari I beg you please, reconsider this."

"Don't worry Ceiser, I'll be as mindful as possible. That said I still have a task at hand." Ale expressed as she let the little critter on her lap down.

Llildan sighed as she walked away, but ultimately returned to his own work at his main console inside. He tried working without worry, but overtime things became overwhelming. His hand instinctively moved for the dial on his head, but paused halfway in hesitation. The hand shook as he tried to force things, but in the end gave up. After a moment of quiet, yet heavy breathing; Llildan glanced at a hole on the console's rim. It was shaped as a crystal, and he knew for what crystal specifically. Sighing under his breath, he looked throughout the room before finding it. A plain, clear crystal with not a single chip or imperfection upon it. He held it to his chest for but a moment before seemingly reconsidering his current choice. Yet again he hesitated in placing it back down, but his heart won once more. He brought the crystal to the hole and placed it carefully within. Upon that placement, the console whirred to life before displaying a projection of his memories. This crystal in particular holding the ones of his wife, Shel and Ale as a little girl. He watched each image and passing memory silently, as what emotions he seemingly had left began flooding in. Llildan didn't know when the tears had started, but was unamused at finally noticing them. His hand once again went to his dial, stopping just short of it.

This time Llildan whispered to himself as he saw Shel's face appear in the final memory he had of her, "I often wonder moya lyubov', if perhaps she grew up too quickly...like you had to. I can only hope...that she doesn't meet the same end as you too."

With that he turned the dial a slight bit clockwise. Upon doing so, the tears that had been flowing so freely ceased just as quickly as they seemingly came. At least from Llildan's perspective on the matter. He then heard someone coming, and grabbed a towel to appear as though he was wiping sweat away instead of tears. Almost furiously rubbing them away before grabbing a bottle of vodka. He about poured himself a glass, but decided not to. Instead popping it's cork and drinking it straight. Though he did also think to turn off the crystal's projection. Just in time too, as Lilith came into the room.

"My my, there a special occasion? Or are you just in desperate need of a distraction?"

Llildan actually gave off a slight growl, "I just like it's taste, and it's hardness."

Lilith propped herself beside him against the counter, "Ah yes. The cold, chilling bite as it travels down the throat. The near pure and perfect alcoholic aftertaste after the smooth and creamy texture soothes the chill. Hitting you with a mix of flavors depending on the make and brand. Definitely among my favorite alcohols, though I've always...always felt it needed more than being drank straight."

Llildan ignored Lilith as much as possible. For with each word she began letting more of her true nature arise. The lustful, sex addicted freak of a succubus that would kill you either before, during, or after. All depending on her mood and whether or not she favored you as a 'toy'. He'd heard all the stories, he knew full well what she wanted right now. Her body language, her tone, even the blatant yet somehow still tasteful removal of things like a strap here, or her belt there. He turned the dial again, if only to ensure his emotional response was deadened enough to escape the dreaded musk. The stories of how it brought just about all men to her beck and call was enough to warrant the dial being moved again in his opinion.

He then looked at the bottle in his hand again before just putting it down a bit forcefully, "I've had enough."

"Oh? But you've only just started on the bottle. Imagine what it'll be like once you've finally drank it dry." Lilith complained with a very faint pout.

"It already is dry for me, perhaps it was too dry to begin with anyway. If you want a 'drinking' partner, go pester someone else. I've more important matters to attend to, not to mention a need for a rest."

Lilith hanged her head backward in annoyance, "Uuuugh, no wonder it tasted too dry. You're just as dry down there I'll bet."

Llildan shook his head, "Try harder Demonness, I know better than to lose my nerve so easily."

He then tightened his grip on the crystal before leaving the room in silence. Lilith just drank the bottle's remnants, of which there was plenty, in a mix of barely contained fury and sexual frustration. Growling and muttering to herself in the now darkened room.

[stuckonstarker]

Storm

| NFF | Rough Sex | Light Degrading |

Hope you enjoy !! I spent like 5 hours on this sleep-deprived last night lmao oof

Peter looked outside, the lightning sliced across the sky, thunder rumbled through the ground, and the wind whipped through the air, making a loud woosh. The lightning looked like a strobe light against the dark gray clouds, occasional flashes of purple peeked through the blinding white lightning. 

Peter was enraptured with the fierce beauty of the storm. It made adrenaline rush through his system. His spidey-sense sent shudders through his entire body. He was so preoccupied with the storm that he didn’t notice Tony approaching from the darkness.

“Hey,” Tony said, “we can bunker down in my lab.”

Tony’s voice made Peter jump. He turned to Tony with wide eyes: “I didn’t see you… what?”

“I asked if you wanted to come to the lab,” Tony said.

“Oh,” Peter said, “yeah.”

Tony gave Peter a reassuring smile. Peter trailed behind Tony like a lost puppy

The lab was sound-proofed, it served to soothe Peter’s erratic spidey-senses. He could still hear the muffled roar of thunder through the sound-proofing, though - damn enhanced senses - but of all the rooms in Tony’s house, the lab was the most secure. That thought pacified Peter’s worries. He sat on his stool - the one that Tony specifically bought for him because it was blue. Peter smiled at the memory. 

“So,” Tony said, sitting on his stool next to Peter, “what’s hanging, dude?”

Peter smiled, “Don’t call me dude, dude.”

“Have it your way,” Tony said then winked.

Peter’s heart did a backflip. He asked, “Do you think the storm will be over soon?”

“Soon, maybe 3 hours at the most,” Tony said, “that’s the worst-case scenario, though, I’m sure it won’t be that long.”

“What should we do in the meantime?” Peter asked, “Do you have anything we can work on?”

Tony shook his head, “Nothing we can work on now. Besides, you look too… spooked to work, we should just relax.”

Peter laughed, but he was suddenly hyper-aware of his entire body shaking. The more he focused on stopping it, the worse it got. 

Tony said, “It’s okay to be afraid, Peter.”

“I’m not afraid,” Peter said, “but my spidey-sense is just… acting up, I guess.”

“Would a drink help?” Tony asked, half-joking.

Peter shook his head, “I don’t drink. And, probably not.”

“I’m here for you,” Tony said, laying a comforting hand on Peter’s knee. 

The hand was definitely a paternal act of affection, definitely. But Peter’s mind wandered down a dark, dirty rabbit hole. Peter imagined Tony’s hand snaking higher and higher up his leg, rubbing circles into his thigh. Tony’s other hand cupping Peter’s cheek, guiding their lips together. Peter’s vision blurred, losing himself.

“Peter,” Tony said, worry peeking through his voice.

Peter jumped, eyes widening, “I’m sorry… did you say something?”

“Can I do something?” Tony asked.

Fuck me

“...No,” Peter said.

Tony pulled back, concern pooling his dark eyes. His stare was intense like he could see every thought that raced through Peter’s mind. They sat in silence. Peter’s enhanced hearing could pick up the muffled sound of the rain beating against the building.

Peter watched as Tony licked his lips, entranced with the movement. It stirred a warm want in Peter’s abdomen. Peter leaned toward Tony, those dark eyes luring him closer. Their eyes were locked and, for a moment, clarity washed over both of them and then they knew. 

Peter pulled back. 

“Peter…” Tony whispered, “do you need anything?”

Peter opened his mouth to answer when the lights flickered. They both looked up, the lab lights rarely flickered. Peter watched the lights intensely.

Tony said, “If the power goes out the backup generator will start.”

“Tony?” Peter said, looking at him.

“Yeah?”

Peter asked, “Can I have a hug?”

“Well, that’s easy enough,” Tony said with a smile, “bring it in then, Pete.”

Tony pulled Peter up into a hug. He clung to Tony, the comfort drowning out whatever lingering anxieties he might’ve had. Peter buried his face into Tony’s chest. It wasn’t fair how safe Tony felt, his sturdy frame and rich, coffee-like smell felt like home to Peter. Tony was wearing a tank top, so Peter took his opportunity to discreetly feel up his biceps.

Tony pulled back partially so that he could admire Peter’s face. His eyes darted around Peter’s features. Tony gently brushed a stray strand of curly brown hair out of Peter’s face. The movement was quick enough, but Peter still felt the phantom touch of Tony’s fingers linger on his forehead.

“You okay now?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded, “I’m better.”

“Good,” Tony said.

Tony tightened his grip on Peter, squeezing him in the hug before jumping away - like Peter had burnt him. Peter looked from Tony’s intense stare down to the stained tiles of the lab. 

Peter nodded, “Great.”

Tony’s lips formed a tight line, he looked away from Peter. He looked like he was contemplating something, but before Peter could ask, Tony said: “You seem distracted.”

“Huh?” Peter asked, before the words registered, “Oh, I - um - I… don’t know. Maybe? There are some things on my mind recently, well, not just recently - it’s been a while actually, possibly since I was born - but it’s not important… not that important anyway.”

“If it’s bothering you then I’m willing you wager that it’s pretty important,” Tony said.

Peter sighed, “I mean, it is a little important… but I wouldn’t talk to you about it.”

“Me?” Tony asked. He was actually hurt but covered it up with mock offense; Peter knew that classic Tony Stark move like the back of his hand. Covering up real hurt with fake hurt, playing off his emotions like a joke. Peter had seen Tony use it against all the Avengers, but Tony using it against him hits different.

Peter said, “It’s not you, necessarily, but… I mean, I wouldn’t talk to May about it either, so… It’s just very… teenagery, you know?”

“Sure,” Tony said like it didn’t matter, but he eyed Peter up and down.

Peter felt himself shiver under Tony’s scrutiny. He felt vulnerable when pitted against those predatory bronze eyes. It seemed like Tony could pick out every thought Peter had.

Tony pulled Peter close and leaned down so that their noses were touching. The close proximity made his face heat up. Making direct eye contact with Tony often felt like staring into the eyes of a tiger.

“Peter,” Tony whispered, “you can tell me anything.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Peter said.

Tony asked, “So, you doubt me?”

“I never said that,” Peter said, “but I don’t think you’d be a big help.”

Tony laughed, his shark-like grin reflected in his black eyes. Peter felt like a fawn being cornered by a coyote. Adrenaline pumped through his body alongside the arousal that began pooling in his stomach. He looked away from Tony, taking a deep breath he didn’t know he needed.

“Try me,” Tony said, a challenging edge to his words.

Tony grabbed Peter’s hips, pulling him close so that they were flush together. It was like a hug, with Peter laying his head against Tony’s chest, but Tony’s hands were right above Peter’s ass. It sent shivers rocketing through Peter’s body.

Peter whispered, “Tony.”

“Tell me what you need, Peter.”

Peter purred, “I need you, Tony.”

Tony’s eyes darkened, “See, now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Tony pushed Peter against the table, Peter’s heart raced in his chest. He looked up at Tony with wide, innocent eyes. He put his palm against Tony’s chest, his hands drifted down to Tony’s toned abs. Tony smirked, the cocky prick, and yanked off his tank top. 

Peter stared at Tony, his mouth open in awe. Tony soaked in the silent praise as he pressed Peter into a heated kiss. Peter stumbled, trying to keep up with the rough pace that Tony had set. 

Tony pulled away from the kiss just as quickly as he started it. Peter whined after him to no avail. Tony smiled at Peter and licked a stripe up his throat. The wet trail of Tony’s saliva made Peter cling to his shoulders. Tony gently bit and sucked on Peter’s sensitive neck, Tony’s mouth on Peter’s neck sent pleasant shudders through Peter’s weak body.

Peter felt Tony’s hands creeping underneath his shirt.

“Let’s get this stuffy thing off,” Tony said, leaving no room for argument - not that Peter would want to.

Peter nodded, “Yea.”

Tony practically ripped Peter’s shirt off. Tony’s eyes dragged over Peter’s bare torso slowly, taking in each and every detail of Peter’s flushed body. It made Peter aware of how exposed he was to his mentor, which made him all the hotter.

Tony flicked one of Peter’s nipples, making the boy squeak in a mix of shame and pleasure. Peter went to cover himself from Tony’s prying eyes, provoking a low rumble from Tony.

He grabbed Peter’s hands and said: “Keep these on the table, okay? Be a good boy for me, Petey.”

Peter’s mouth opened to say something when Tony’s expression stopped him. He obeyed, placing his palms flat against the table behind him. Tony’s smile turned something sinister at Peter’s compliance. Peter’s entire body felt hot, his face was flushed a rosy pink and sweat began to form on his forehead.

Tony put his hands on either side of Peter’s neck, slowly moving down Peter’s body, tracing his pecs, abs, and the ‘V’ that led to Peter’s cock. Tony’s fingers made Peter’s skin explode with goosebumps. Just his fingertips sent delicious tremors through Peter’s body and straight to his dick. Tony’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. Peter felt his body go fuzzy with desire at Tony’s dark expression.

“Tony,” Peter whispered.

Tony asked, “What do you need, baby?”

Peter whined, his brain refusing to form a coherent answer.

“Aw,” Tony said in a mocking tone, “my baby can’t speak, huh?”

Peter hummed in agreement.

“I’ll take care of you, darling,” Tony whispered, voice rough with lust.

Peter mumbled, “Thank you.”

“Good boy knows his manners,” Tony said as he began to remove Peter’s jeans. 

Peter was bare, his entire body exposed to Tony’s darkest desires. Tony gripped Peter’s hips and spun him around so that Peter was laying stomach down on the lab table. Peter’s knees felt wobbly and his mind felt clouded. Peter felt the warmth of Tony leave him. He whined in response.

“I’m just getting something,” Tony said.

Peter felt his wrists being bound together behind him on his back. He was going to be Tony’s. At that, the spark of arousal grew into a wildfire within Peter, making him long for release. He was overheating with desire. It felt like hell, it was amazing. Peter never wanted it to end, but he felt full of a passionate need to be filled.

Peter moaned against the table, his cheek was pressed flat against it so some drool dribbled out. If Peter wasn’t lost in the waves of want he would’ve been embarrassed.

“Such a pretty boy,” Tony said, “but not the smartest, huh? That’s okay, your looks got you this far, right?”

Peter whined in response.

“I’m going to get you ready, love,” Tony said.

Peter felt Tony’s first finger enter him. It was wet and awkward but it made Peter shiver in anticipation. He spread his legs farther, trying to be entirely exposed to Tony - who would take care of him. The second finger entered Peter soon after. It stretched Peter, doing scissor motions inside of him, making sure that he could take Tony’s cock. The sting was dull, practically not even there. The third finger made Peter feel woozy, reality around him fading. Tony brushed against Peter’s sensitive prostate making him moan. It sent sparks of firey pleasure through his veins like lava. Tony kept rubbing against Peter’s sweet spot with his fingers - the jerk was enjoying Peter’s cries of lust.

After finger-fucking Peter, Tony deemed him sufficiently prepared.

Peter’s whine was cut short when he felt Tony’s thick cock placed on his ass. Tony spanked Peter’s ass with his dick a few times, then he rubbed it against Peter’s entrance. Peter moaned, shaking his hips, lecherous desire turning into bratty impatience.

Tony pressed a hand into Peter’s back, a silent warning.

The tip of Tony’s dick entered Peter, he slowly pushed the rest of his long, thick cock into Peter. It stretched Peter wide, making him choke on a pleased cry. Tony’s dick felt massive inside of Peter’s tight heat like it was splitting the poor boy apart. The venomous flames of lust filled Peter with clouded desire to be fucked. He wanted - more than anything he’s ever wanted - to be fucked. Peter was sure that if he didn’t get dicked down he would die.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter moaned, “fuck me, please… oh, please fuck me, sir.”

Tony growled out a laugh, “Cute little slut needs to be fucked, huh? Is that what you need, darling?”

“Yes,” Peter cried, “please! Yes… oh my God.”

Peter’s entire body lurched forward when Tony thrust into him roughly. Peter cried out in pleasure, Tony’s cock hitting his prostate. Peter’s entire body felt like it was aflame, it made him moan. Pleasure shot through Peter’s body mercilessly.

“Is that good, baby?” Tony asked.

Peter moaned, “Yes!”

Tony grabbed a fistful of Peter’s unruly hair and pulled on it. Peter felt Tony’s cock deep inside of him, the endless pleasure blending with the shame making Peter mewl.

“Are you a good little slut?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded, as best he could.

Tony demanded, “Say it.”

“I’m a good little slut,” Peter repeated.

Tony pet Peter’s hair and gently placed him back on the table. Peter moaned as the cool lab table met his face again. Tony grabbed Peter by the hips and thrust inside him again, harder. Peter choked on a moan that could be mistaken for a sob.

Tony fucked into Peter, his cock hitting Peter’s sweet spot repeatedly. Hot lust had swallowed both of them, making them slaves to their lecherous desires. Each thrust sent Peter further to hell, the fires of sin enveloping him with his endless want. Tony’s cock rubbed against his inner-walls perfectly, sending him down a descent of shuddering, mind-numbing passion. Tony fucked Peter ruthlessly, chasing down his own release.

The only thing Peter could feel was Tony’s cock dicking him down relentlessly. Moans tumbled out of Peter without permission. Tony fucked into him, turning him into a cock-drunk whore. Every time Tony thrust into Peter it sent overwhelming waves of ignited pleasure throughout Peter’s entire body. Peter’s mind was stuffed with the mantra: I’m a good little slut, I’m a good little slut, I’m a good little slut. 

Tony’s cock forced itself deep inside of Peter, it made Peter scream: “Fuck!”

Tony roughly grabbed Peter’s hair, and fucked into him harder, like a punishment for the swear. Every thrust was purposely meant to make Peter cry out in desperate want. It worked. Peter’s body was dazed with the painful pleasure of Tony’s cock pounding into him brutally. Electric pleasure bombarded Peter’s senses, Tony’s cock was the only thing he could understand. An avalanche of ecstasy buried Peter in immeasurable lust. Every thrust sent a searing flash of pleasure through Peter’s entire body.

A tight coil of molten pleasure tightened and tightened until it could tighten no more, making Peter cry out for release. He could feel it, he could feel it closer and closer, but not close enough.

Peter cried, “Tony… Please… I’m so close, Tony!”

“Good sluts don’t talk,” Tony growled through forceful fucking, “but I’ll let you off this one time.”

Peter moaned, “Thank you.”

Tony’s thrusts became more sporadic, but not any less amazing. Peter’s voice was raw from screaming and moaning, the only noises coming from him were choked gasps of pleasure. Peter’s body tensed, his body shaking with an overwhelming need to finish. Tony slammed into Peter harder and harder, making Peter’s mouth fall open with pleasure, his vision fully blurring. The world around Peter became entirely focused on Tony’s delicious dick.

Tony’s harsh pace made Peter drool some more. He could feel the mind-numbing need to finish in his soul, it was a sweltering pleasure that was insufferable. Every movement was torture to Peter who was desperate for release. 

The endless pleasure was suffocating, the tightened coil in his stomach threatening to snap with each brutal thrust of Tony’s cock. Closer and closer, Peter could feel it coming quicker and quicker. He had nothing to bite down on, so his cries of pleasure were completely unrestrained. The flames of lust wrapped itself around Peter, licking him with the sharp flames of sinful desire. 

The pleasure, the pain, the searing, overwhelming, endless lust all exploded, erupting like a volcano. Peter came, his raw, fucked out voice screaming incoherent pleas. His entire body was set aflame. Tony fucked into Peter a few more times, Peter letting out little overstimulated mewls each time. Tony came deep inside of him, his hot cum branding Peter like a white-hot iron.

Tony pulled out, cum leaked out of Peter’s abused hole.

“Tony,” Peter whined, voice cracking.

Tony purred, “Sh, babe, I’ll take care of you.”

Peter nodded drowsily, content with that answer. The smoke from sex fogging up Peter’s mind, allowing him to be tranquil. Tony’s grip on Peter was gentle, taking care to be soft when untying Peter. Peter, on the other hand, purred. As long as Tony was around, he felt at ease. Tony would never let anything happen to him.

All of Peter’s limbs were lax and useless, Tony’s grip on Peter’s hips was the only thing holding him up. Tony lifted Peter up bridal style, making a dad noise. Peter snorted.

“What?” Tony asked, voice soft.

Peter smiled, “You’re funny.”

Tony said, “Someone tired?”

“Yea,” Peter said, “where are we going?”

“To clean you up,” Tony said, “but don’t worry about that, sunshine, I’ll take care of the hard parts.”

Peter smiled and nodded, but he was too drowsy to do anything else, so he just allowed himself to doze off. He was sure Tony wouldn’t mind. Tony was just nice like that. In his dreams, he felt like he was being placed amongst an endless blue sky of fluffy clouds.

[banditthewriter]

Whatever It Takes - 6 - Billy Russo

Here goes part six! Hope you like it.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists! Enjoy!

*****

The night that Billy came over with ice cream, he ended up crashing on your couch. You offered him your guest room but he must have fallen asleep before he'd gotten the chance to go up the stairs. You woke up to find him still there the next morning. You hovered a bit before you forced yourself to go into the kitchen and start some coffee.

Since that night, the two of you got together a few more times. Dinner or lunch, coffee once or twice. Each time had the two of you laughing and joking, at ease and content with each other. It hadn’t been like this before when the two of you were more acquaintances than actual friends, but things had changed.

In the week or so that followed neither of you had any events to go to but it didn't stop you from seeing each other. You were amazed at the easy way the two of you seemed to fit together.

It felt natural and was also the biggest disaster you'd ever faced. The longer you both went without a reason for your fake dating, the harder it was to pretend you weren't falling for him. It wasn’t just a surface attraction, a crush you could ignore. No, now it was more.

Billy was someone you respected and someone you trusted. He slowly became more and more important to you until you found yourself wanting to see him every day.

The one way you found to distract yourself was to throw yourself into your work. And once work slowed down and you couldn’t find enough to distract you there, you focused on the charity. Marcia was impressed with your work and your diligence so it seemed that Billy was helping even if he didn’t know it.

About a month into the fake relationship, a courier dropped off a packet of papers for the charity. The first few pages were about the day to day numbers, groceries and utilities. All of this was already covered by the various sponsors so you flipped to the next page. That one held a list of donations from the opening.

Most of the donations were as expected and ranged from a few hundred to one thousand dollars. There was one or two larger donations that were signed by the people you had enticed to the opening.

Then there was an anonymous donation of five grand that made you freeze. It was more than any of the other donations on their own. While the donation was technically anonymous, that just meant they couldn’t be publicized. You flipped to the last pages where there were scanned copies of each check.

It wasn’t like you were being nosy. It was your job to write thank you notes.

There on the last page was the check. The handwriting wasn’t what you’d call familiar, but the name definitely was.

Billy. He’d donated five thousand dollars to Safe Harbor House.

You knew about his past in the system, at least part of it. And while you also knew that he hadn’t wanted to go to the opening when he found out what it was, he had done it for you. You could still remember the vulnerable look in his eyes when you told him about your own past in the system.

While you still had to write a thank you note, at least you wouldn’t have to spend money on postage. You could hand this one to him directly.

When you did give it to him later that same day, he didn’t seem too surprised.

“I knew that it wasn’t one hundred percent anonymous since I signed my own check, but I didn’t realize you’d find out this soon.”

You shrugged your shoulder as you tried to focus on the food on your plate.

“I probably wouldn’t have but I was assigned to write the thank you notes for donations since I helped spearhead the whole thing. But I’m sure if someone else would have seen it, I would have gotten a phone call. You are my fake boyfriend after all.”

A glance from the corner of your eye showed that Billy didn’t react to that at all. You closed your eyes for a second and then moved on.

“How was your day?”

He sighed and leaned forward to grab his beer.

“Fucking nightmare. Got a lot of pressure at the office and it doesn’t seem to be letting up. Might be working long hours for a while, by the way,” he added before he drained the last of his drink. “If something comes up that I need to make an appearance at, you might wanna give me at least a week heads up.”

You told him that you could do that, especially since you couldn’t think of anything he’d need to be present for. But the tension in his shoulders and in his voice made you reach out to cover his hand with yours.

“If you need anything, even just to talk, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

He looked over at you, his dark eyes moving from your hand on his to your face. His stare was intense. Then he smiled and gave you a quick nod.

“I appreciate it.”

With a quick squeeze, you released his hand and reached out to grab your own drink. Something told you that he had been looking for something on your face just then.

You just wished you knew if he found it or not.

------

The sound of your doorbell made you look up from the article you were reading on your tablet. It was early in the morning on a Sunday and you weren’t expecting anyone. Billy had been busy the night before but he had sent a text almost at midnight to say that he would probably sleep in.

The two of you had started having breakfast together on Sundays. You didn’t mind that he cancelled because like he had said the week before, you knew he was going to be busy.

Had he changed his mind?

Excited at the possibility of getting a surprise visit from Billy, you left the comfort of your recliner and headed to the door. You didn’t even think to check the peephole before you unlocked the door and opened it.

Surprised wasn’t the word for how you felt just then.

“Hey Y/N, been a while.”

Connor was dressed casually which for him meant khakis and a button up shirt. In the back of your head you could register that he looked good, but there was nothing there as you looked at him anymore. No attraction, no interest, no pain.

That last part was new. You thought you’d hurt because of him for a while longer.

“What are you doing here?”

He looked surprised that you didn’t invite him in. Instead you crossed your arms and gave him a distinctly uninterested look. You hoped he’d get the message, but subtly was lost on him.

“I’ve been giving it a lot of thought and I think we should get back together.” When all you did was blink at him in shock, he held a hand up and continued to talk. “I know that it was my idea to end things and I know I didn’t handle that well, but I really wanna try this time.”

You wanted to laugh. You even let out a short giggle before you covered your mouth. His eyes widened and he tried to smile, but your continued mirth seemed to unsettle him.

“Sorry, it’s just that this is ridiculous. No, really, you’re hilarious right now, but the joke's over. You can leave now.”

Connor shook his head and took a step forward. His hand came out and grasped your wrist. He tugged on it until you stumbled forward a bit.

“You should take me seriously. I mean it,” he said in a low voice, one that was more threatening than imploring, “I want you back. This thing you have with Russo, it’s just a rebound and everyone knows it. I want to be with you and I want to change for you.”

That made your skin crawl for some reason. You tugged on your wrist until he finally released you. Even though you were free, he stepped forward to compensate. It meant his foot was in your doorway and if you tried to shut the door, he’d be able to stop it.

“Let me say this in small words so that you can understand,” you said with a glare, “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. We are over and that’s never going to change. As for what Billy and I have? It’s absolutely none of your business.”

His face slowly filled with anger until there was nothing but rage. It contorted his features to the point of him being almost unrecognizable.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he spat in distaste. “There’s no one better than me and you know that. You and Russo are pathetic so you deserve each other.”

He turned to leave, marching down your stairs. On the sidewalk he turned back around to face you once more, his voice stopping you as you started to shut the door.

“You better get checked for diseases though. Pretty boy is fucking a Homeland Security agent behind your back.”

The words stung. Your throat felt dry as you shut your door and locked it. Was it just your imagination or were you dizzy?

He was just saying that. He didn’t have any proof. He just wanted to hurt you since you turned him down.

But if there was one thing you knew about Connor, it was that he wasn’t that creative. If he’d just said that Billy was probably cheating on you, that’d be one thing. But to be as specific to list a Homeland Security agent?

You didn’t want to believe it. It was the one thing you had asked when the two of you made this deal; for him not to sleep around and ruin the fake relationship. At least not get caught at it. He had said it wouldn’t be a problem and you believed him.

It wasn’t like you could blame him for seeking that out. If he’d slept with her and it had stayed in the dark, that would have been fine. But for him to be obvious enough to be caught? And caught by Connor of all people?

That didn’t even take into effect the pain that you were feeling from the idea of Billy sleeping with someone else. It was just a fake relationship but your feelings were real. You didn’t want to think about Billy sleeping with other women when all you wanted was…

No. You wouldn’t go down this rabbit hole. You wouldn’t let Connor send you through a paranoid spiral. He did the same when the two of you were together, making you think you were insane for believing he might cheat on you. This was the same thing, only in the opposite direction.

You pulled your phone from your pocket and opened up a text to Billy. He might not be awake, but you could still send him a text, right?

Your fingers hesitated over the keypad before you locked the phone and put it back in your pocket.

It wasn’t like you could tell him that he couldn’t sleep with someone. It wasn’t like the relationship was real. Billy wasn’t yours.

This could come back to bite you on the ass, but you’d accepted that when you agreed to do it. You’d just have to see what happens next.

X

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[forestsstories]

Misfortune

There were a number of factors that contributed to the chain of events which led to a small kitten lying dead on a cold cement floor that evening in December. The first factor came into play before it was even born, in the form of a decision made by someone who would never even know of its existence. A decision made not out of desperation but merely convenience, to leave their male cat unaltered. It’s hard to say how many kittens were the result of this outdoor roaming tom, but this one certainly was.

“Stop! Mom Mittens got out!” The cry echoed through the home of the child, only six. The mother hesitated as she heard her child’s call. It was late, and she needed to get her daughter to bed. Mittens was an indoor cat, and only six months old she would probably come back in a couple hours. “That’s ok honey, she’ll be back soon. She probably just wants to explore.” An anxious knot formed in her stomach, but what could she do? Go out in the dark to hunt for the kitten that would probably make it back home before they did, and throw off the girls sleep schedule for her trouble? Not to mention worry her. “It’ll be ok, she’ll be back when you get up tomorrow, now go brush your teeth okay?” But it was not okay. About three blocks away a cat yowled, and our story begins.

“Mommy look how big Mittens is getting! Do you think she’ll have the kittens soon?” The frazzled mother released the breath she’d been holding “I don’t know honey. Probably.” The girl was definitely right, the poor creature’s stomach was huge with babies and she was almost a baby herself. She chewed her lip as she ran over the options for vet care in her mind. How did something like this even happen? It was hard to imagine a kitten becoming pregnant, and yet here was the proof. What if there was a complication? If she lost the litter, or one got stuck, the vet bills could easily cripple them. Then what if there were no complications? The cat was huge, how on earth was she going to deal with a litter of kittens? She sank to the couch to weigh their options as her small daughter sang songs to the expecting kitten. Who knew something she had adopted to make her daughter happy could cause such a huge mess?

The delivery thankfully went off without a hitch. The little girl squealed with delight when she came home to five perfect squirming little bundles of joy. Grey like their mother and letting out the tiny mewls only newborn kittens are capable of the mother breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps they could handle this after all. She smiled when she gazed at her daughters beaming face. They were only kittens, she would find them homes when the time came. Who could possibly not want kittens?

The answer, as it turned out, was a lot of people. The other women in her mommy group, her sister in law, even the nice lady on the corner with the bowls of cat food beneath her front porch. Everyone she asked either didn’t want a kitten or had too many cats already. Six weeks. Eight weeks. Twelve. The kittens were tumbling around the house now, getting into anything not kept under lock and key. Her daughter was of course delighted by the mayhem but it was when she was finally at her wits end that the mother booted up her computer. It was time to return to just one cat, before she strayed any further down the rabbit hole of learning why crazy cat ladies are crazy.

“Free to a good home.” Words phrased with the best of intentions that none the less resulted in every last kitten’s demise. Two kittens were crushed beneath the tires of a truck at their new farm home. One perished from exposure when its new owner dragged it to the park and forgot to bring it home with them. Lastly, this one’s other sibling died at this one’s very first step on its tragically short journey. A nice little old lady stroked the baby’s head, smiling warmly as she assured the mother she would take good care of both kittens. A sigh of relief escaped the mother as she watched the box with the last two kittens vanish into her car. She would have no idea what became of the kittens. Was it her fault? I wouldn’t say so. How was she to know? She was just doing what she thought was best. What then, of the person who decided to skirt the vet costs of neutering their male? Certainly not the best decision, but who among us hasn’t put off something simply because it was inconvenient? It’s very hard to place blame, but the first home our kitten found itself in is certainly where I would lay the most.

Both kittens tensed from the moment the woman removed the box from her car. They had been wildly confused when six other kittens were picked up from various homes and added to the back seat, but now they were certain something was very wrong. Her brother mewled pitifully and curled into her as the box was handed over to a gruff looking man who slipped a crisp bill into the old woman’s hand. “Six? Looks good. I want another six next week okay?” A dull dread crept down the kitten’s back and it’s hackles raised as the stench it had smelled from outside got stronger. Loud growls and the clatter of chains upon the floor filled the air as the box was dropped roughly to the ground. The kitten gazed through a hole in the side of the box and couldn’t understand what the gruff man was saying to his colleague but stared intensely at the creature they were both praising.

Thick muscles bulged beneath skin that seemed stretched too thin over them. Flecks of drool sparkled on its chin as it gazed stupidly up at its masters. A slick sweat glistened on its thin fur and it’s yellowed teeth caught the light. Fearful mews erupted all around the kitten and it scooted to the back as the man stormed to the box. She flinched as the ground shifted beneath her from the force of his boot crushing in one side of their enclosure, and yet suddenly she saw her chance! A crack in the top of the box opened from the force of his boot, only for an instant but that instant was all she needed. Wings seemed to erupt from her spine and carry her to safety as she soared from the prison which had contained them and a panicked mewl was the last sound she would ever hear from any of her littermates.

Shouts filled the surrounding air and she froze momentarily. The animal which had previously looked docile and gentle exploded into a snarling beast. Its chain strained against the link which was attached to the wall and one of the humans calmly spoke while the other dove for her. Her panic took the form of flight and not a moment too soon as the chain was released by the calm human, and in an instant the eighty five pounds of pure muscle that made up the snarling beast was barrelling toward her. Breath came in short gasps as she made for her only hope of salvation. Her tiny muscles burned from fatigue as he gained on her with every step. Hot breath made her fur sticky and wet and yellowed teeth clamped down mere inches from her tail tip as she flung herself recklessly through a window and landed gracefully on the other side.

Her escape, though daring, left her with little idea of where to go next. She put as much distance as her legs would allow between herself and those yellowing teeth. Dusk was licking at the edges of buildings and casting an orange glow upon the scenery when she finally took stock of her surroundings. It was a posh place she’d found herself in, colourful flowers lined every path. Tall homes with perfectly manicured lawns stood proudly and the light of the setting sun reflected off the glittering cars which lined every driveway. A garden bed nearby looked particularly inviting, the dirt soft and fluffy from recent activity. An ashy and somewhat sour smell filled her nostrils as she sank her paws into the soil. The salty scent of the earth made her stomach growl uncomfortably as she relieved herself. She would desperately wish she had moved on mere moments later when an angry shriek reverberated around her.

The woman’s hands were a blur as she waved them erratically, a high pitched squeal directed at the animal that had befouled her precious garden. It is difficult to blame her if you have ever found an animal urinating on your hard work you may relate. The kitten’s breath was heavy by the time she had once again successfully outrun the current threat and her mouth felt like sandpaper. She dipped her muzzle into a small pool of stagnant water which would have been an unsightly eyesore in the last neighbourhood and had just gotten her first mouthful when an enticingly meaty aroma caught her attention. Her stomach growled again. Dinner was served.

She followed the scent to a small bowl which had been placed carefully inside of a steel box. Memories of tumbling playfully with her littermates in boxes warmed her heart as she crawled in, but this box was of course not like those ones. A loud clang erupted behind her and she whirled around. A door had closed, sealing both the box and her fate. She reached her tiny legs through the bars in a feeble attempt to escape but before an hour had passed resigned herself to her prison. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she was still hungry and she inhaled the small bowl of meaty paste. It tasted sweet and salty and she relaxed a bit, curling on the cold pavement and waiting for morning.

Morning came with a jolt, her eyes sprang open as the ground shifted beneath her. A human lifted the cage which was her new home into the air and before she could brace for the impact the cage was thrust roughly into a much less shimmery vehicle than the ones that had lines the other driveways. Her heart beat like a bongo drum as the combination of new sensations overwhelmed her. A cry escaped her in the form of a tiny yowl, which continued until the vehicle came to an abrupt halt. The next few minutes passed in a blur as she struggled to understand precisely what was happening.

Before she could fathom any of it the human had gone, taking their clanging metal box with them. The ground beneath her paws was cold and hard. The air was rank with a sour chemical scent, and another human stood watching her. Trembling slightly she took a few steps to explore her new surroundings, recoiling immediately when she felt a human hand brush the tip of her tail. Two humans mumbled something between themselves before leaving her in the empty sterile room.

The weeks that followed things began to look up, the humans in this place seemed to be kind, much like the people that owned her mother. It was not long before a rumbling purr shook her in pleasure when she felt their fingertips stroking her fur. It was mere days later that she began to meet other humans. Some were small with grubby fingers, and some were taller with piercing gazes. It was one of the small ones which ended up offering her a home, for which she was grateful.

Her nose twitched as the box in which she had been stuffed was opened and she found herself once more inside a house. The air here lacked the stale scents of the place she had been taught to be hospitable and instead were welcoming and warm. It was a wonderful place to spend a few days, sadly that is all she would be allowed to spend there as before the sun had set on the third she felt a chubby fist close upon her tail and a jolt of pain shot through her spine as it tugged. I would like to think you have never felt spinal pain but if you have you will immediately understand the kittens reaction, which involved a flash of claws and a crying child. This of course meant that our kitten found herself once more outside in the cold, and this time it was much colder indeed.

A chill wind ruffled her fur, causing it to stand on end as she watched a mouse rifling through trash. She had been several days on the street now and was beginning to become accustomed to it. Her hunting was not what it could be and she had been subsisting mostly on scraps dug from the large refuse cans the humans liked to use, but she was determined to try. Her focus was steely and her muscles taught as she waited for the mouse to come more into the open. Her attention was so strongly focused on the task at hand she didn’t see or smell the other cat until she was on top of her.

Teeth sank into her shoulder before she had an inclination of what was happening and she kicked off with her back feet. Her shoulder throbbed and a deep growl emanated from her throat to ward off this predator. The mouse of course had vanished and anger surged through her at the lost meal, propelling her forward and her teeth also met flesh while her claws tore frantically at the other cats fur. Her tail lashed back and forth as she felt a slice through the tender skin of her ear. A cry escaped her and she struggled to return fire. A yell from a nearby window shook both cats and they sprang apart as a large boot was suddenly between them. The adrenaline broken the kitten suddenly desperately wanted to flee, and managed to put several blocks between herself and her aggressor. The damage however was done, and a few short days later an empty stomach was the least of her concerns.

She had a hard time holding herself up when she found herself back on the hard examination table at the shelter where she’d been adopted. A kindly stranger had found her staggering and dropped her off there, she hadn’t even seen their face but started purring the moment they lifted her into their arms. Their touch had been gentle and they had spoken with a coo while they carried her. Her ear felt warm and she dug her claws into the strangers shirt wishing desperately they were here to take her home. But she was back here again, and while the people around her were kind, their voices sounded worried. She lay her head down, closed her eyes so she could no longer see the crust around them and waited.

A soft hand stroked her and she heard that same soothing tone to the person’s voice as she opened her eyes to gaze into their face. Their eyes were not red with tears, but were not untroubled either. “Shh…. It’s alright.” She didn’t understand the words, but they brought some comfort anyway. Her chest heaved and rattled with infection and she hardly flinched as a needle pinched its way into her vein. Moments later her eyes felt heavy and she allowed them once more the drift closed, not knowing that they would never again open. The last thing that reached her before she fell into the soothing abyss were two words that in that moment she actually did understand. “I’m sorry…”

Our kitten was one of many cats that lost their lives that evening, for various reasons. Whether they were too feral, or ill, or simply too old each one likely had a story similar to this one. In the end the world did not mourn for the loss of one small kitten, but it was a loss none the less, and no less tragic for the fact that the poor creature never experienced what it was to be truly, deeply, loved.

[smoaking-greenarrow]

Pictures of You

Chapter 6 in my Over You series, which should have been updated a while ago! Read the full story here!

She was an anxious cleaner. She knew it, she'd been teased for it, and she didn't care.

She was having trouble sleeping because of everything running through her head at night; how Thea was doing, if Tommy and Oliver could get their old friendship back, the fact that her mother called her every two seconds ever since the news about Oliver broke. She was also not sleeping because after she turned her back on Oliver the other night, she stupidly got the idea that she needed to find Sara. After Oliver disappeared and Tommy broke up with Sara to find him, she left Starling. And according to her father, "fell off the grid". He hadn't seen his daughter in two years. Felicity didn't even know if Tommy knew about all of that. She'd asked Tommy a few months ago, but he hadn't heard from her since the breakup four years ago. And he never expected to again.

Sara ran off, hopped from island to island and lived a gypsy life. It always sounded so romantic and adventurous to Felicity, like a dream that everyone always wished they could have. Maybe that was what made people not worry about Sara, they all fantasized her sitting on a beach sipping a margarita and enjoying her life stress-free. But Felicity couldn't shake the feeling that something about that picture was wrong; distorted in some way. Maybe the others were too close to Sara to see the faults in all of it, to see the signs that lead her down this rabbit hole that she couldn't stop herself from following now.

Two years of silence was odd, but Quentin received post cards around the holidays and letters every now and then. It wasn't until recently that he became worried. Sara had spent two years dodging Lance's calls due to bad service on various remote islands. But the letters and post cards kept Quentin at bay. He hadn't received one in months, though. He didn't even know where she was or how to reach out to her.

Felicity tried to be less obsessed in her search for Sara than she was with Oliver's. She dedicated a couple of hours every day to her computer and that search. But she couldn't tell anyone, especially Lance and Laurel, that she was looking. She didn't want to get their hopes up if she couldn't her.

The secret about Sara and her disappearance weighed on Felicity. She knew that Oliver and Tommy deserved to know, and she knew that sooner or later, Oliver would want to see his old friend. She knew that he would want to find Sara soon enough, to try to fix what happened between her and Tommy. And she just wanted something to give them before that day came. She just wanted to track her down and get some answers about where she'd been all these years.  

But even more stressful than any of that, was Oliver. Tommy called daily to share his theories about Oliver being The Hood. And the more that time went on...the more she was starting to believe it. Oliver had Starling fooled, the people here all knew him as a self-absorbed billionaire who was far too selfish to devote his time to saving the city, to risk his life to save anyone else. Felicity was the only one who knew the person he became after a few years away from that lifestyle-a few years with her. She knew how big his heart was, how protective and stubborn he was, and she definitely knew that Oliver being The Hood was possible. But, as even further, condemning evidence, Oliver kept up the charade for the people of Starling City; especially his mother, Tommy, and Thea. Felicity couldn't understand why he wouldn't want them to know that he had changed...unless he had something to hide.

The only reason that Tommy wasn't fooled by Oliver was because he knew who Oliver was through Felicity, and her stories about him. When they'd first got to talking, Tommy demanded to see pictures to prove that the same man she spoke about was the one he'd grown up with. He especially couldn't believe her story about the birthday that he'd lit the apartment with candles, cooked dinner, and had a bath ready when she got home from class. Tommy may not have seen much of the change in him, since Oliver distanced himself from Starling when he left for college. But he could connect what he knew of Oliver, to what Felicity said, to the island, to the way he acted now. And in Tommy's equation of all of those added factors, Oliver was The Hood.

Felicity still didn't feel ready to admit that it was true, even though she knew it deep down.

She was tapping on her keyboard quickly, trying to confirm a hunch in her search for Sara, shaking her head to clear all thoughts of Oliver, Tommy, and vigilantes out. She'd gotten a lead; a blonde girl photographed on an island in the Philippines. The resemblance was a stretch, her face was hidden...but it was the hat that had caught her attention; a Starling City Rockets baseball cap.

She was prepared to spend her night following the lead until she found enough proof that this girl was Sara so that she could tell the Lance family, Tommy, and Oliver all about the whole thing and get it off her chest once and for all. But then Barry called, and she'd been too busy staring at her computer and the picture of Sara to look down at her phone and see who was calling. So she answered, expecting it to be Tommy or Oliver. Aside from her mother, she was also ignoring Barry's calls for the sake of not knowing what the hell to say.

He'd been surprised to hear her voice, but regained his composure and asked if he could swing by to pick up some of his things he'd left at her apartment. He said he would be over in ten minutes, so she knew he was running. She paced for a couple of minutes, then she gathered his stuff and put it all by the door so that he wouldn't have to go looking for everything. When she was done getting all of his things together, she was forced to clean. Barry hadn't arrived yet, and it kept her busy; focused her mind on something other than Barry; or the million other things that she really needed to stop analyzing.

She was trying to organize the papers in a drawer of her coffee table when she pulled out a file. She opened it and knew immediately what it was; the report from the hospital that Oliver wanted to see; the one she helped him break into a file room to look at. She hadn't known that he stole it, though. She knew he wouldn't want her to see it. But...he had left it in her drawer, her apartment and all...so she opened it anyway.

The file was paper-clipped, report after report, photos, and medical records of a young boy. Someone had crossed out the boy's name in black sharpie anytime it had appeared, but there was an address for somewhere in The Glades. The photographs of the boy were gruesome, he stood shirtless and covered in bruises. It seemed that the only parts of his body that were not black and blue with bruising were covered in blood, coming from his nose, eyes, and mouth. The reports started by claiming accidental injuries, a rebellious twelve year old kid who enjoyed riding his bike off of ramps, getting into street fights, and one even claimed he'd broken his arm after jumping from a roof. As the reports and photos went on, the bruising got worse. Felicity didn't think that was possible, but later reports showed that the boy had fresh, dark, new bruises over older, yellowing ones. The doctors had apparently come to the same conclusion that she was, the boy was being abused.

Felicity jumped when she heard a knock on her door. She shoved all of the reports back into the file before hiding it under the couch cushion and running to the door. She swung it open and Barry smiled. It was the same smile that brought her so much comfort and stability over the past few years. But it didn't do very much to comfort her in that moment. "I'm sorry." She blurted.

Barry laughed, "Hello to you too."

She let out the breath that she'd been holding. "I should have answered your calls before. So I'm sorry." She scrambled, trying to switch her mind into 'awkward conversation with ex-boyfriend' mode. "I should have called. You deserve better." She swallowed as Barry stared at her for a moment. He nodded once, and she knew that she was forgiven. Communication was never a problem for her and Barry. Felicity opened the door to let him in. "I put all of your stuff over here, but if you see that something's missing, feel free to look around."

"How's Oliver doing?"

"Barry..."

"I mean it, Felicity. He must have been through hell."

"He's fine," She answered quietly, glancing away as she wrapped her sweater tighter around herself.

Barry analyzed her for a moment, "You don't really know how he is, do you?"

She sighed in annoyance, "Do you really want to talk about me and Oliver?"

Barry chuckled, "Felicity, I've been wanting to talk about you and Oliver ever since I met you. I wanted to talk about those pictures of him that suddenly disappeared a week after I started sleeping here. I wanted to talk about him that night that we saw Thea and Moira Queen out to dinner, or any of those nights that you called out for him in your sleep. I wanted to talk about that ring that you hide in the back of your underwear drawer...every day since I found it. Or why you blame yourself for his disappearance. So yes, I do want to talk about you and Oliver. I always have, and I think you owe me that, at least this once."

Felicity turned for the kitchen, "Do you want some tea?"

"Felicity..."

"I fell in love with him when we were freshmen in college. We were together for four years. He asked me to marry him at the end of our senior year. I wasn't ready. He left with his dad. And then his boat went down. His best friend Tommy and I... we tried to find him. We spent two years searching for him, but we couldn't. Eventually we lost hope, and we stopped looking. But I kept a tab on his credit card, ID, all of his accounts...just waiting for a hit. But then I needed to get away, away from Starling and away from the daily reminder that he was gone. So I moved. And that's when you came in."

"You moved to Central City and met The Flash."

"That's right," she nodded, "You found me one night and you asked me to help you, to join your team, and I had something to believe in again."

"Okay." He said simply.

Felicity looked up at him slowly with distrusting eyes, "Okay?"

Barry nodded, "I did my homework on you before I reached out to you, Felicity. I knew about Oliver's disappearance. And when I met you and got to know you, I noticed that you never said that he was dead. You always said 'gone'. You believed that he was still alive. Or you hoped that he was. Either way, when we started dating, I knew that. And I wanted to be with you anyway. You're too smart of a girl to have blind hope. There was a reason you had hope, so I always knew that it was possible. I always knew that he could come back...and I knew that this could happen."

Felicity hesitated for a moment, "That what could happen?"

"That if and when Oliver Queen returned...that I would lose you."

"Barry..." Felicity breathed, her eyes watering, "I'm so sorry."

"I knew what I was getting myself into, Felicity. It hurts, and I wish that I still had you." He said honestly, not breaking eye contact. "But I don't blame you. And I don't wish that this was different. You deserve to be happy, and even though you were happy with me...it wasn't the happiness that you needed. I'm happy that Oliver came back, I would never wish differently. He's the love of your life."

Felicity laughed once, wiping at her tears, "Thank you. I always knew you were too good for me."

Barry stepped closer and pulled her into a hug, "Not too good for you, Felicity...just not right for you."

Felicity let him hold her for a long moment, and then she helped him bring his things to his car where he held her for another long moment. "Thank you for understanding all of this, Barry." She whispered, "Everything has been so chaotic and difficult, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate you."

"Anytime Felicity. The door is always open for you at Team Flash."

Felicity rolled her eyes, "Please don't call it that."

Barry smiled at her, his eyes on hers, and she knew that he was trying to read her and see that she was okay. "Be careful, all right?" He said finally, gently.

She nodded, "Star City has become a safer place since we gained a vigilante. Maybe you inspired someone."

Barry scoffed, "That guy is a monster Felicity, not a hero."

Felicity tried to focus on her work, on finding Sara, but she kept zoning out and thinking about what Barry said. If Oliver was the vigilante, it didn't sit right with her that Barry said he wasn't a hero. If she was being honest though, it was the fact that he may have referred to Oliver as a monster that made her restless.

She decided to go for a walk to clear her head, but all she could think about was whether or not Oliver was The Hood. When she looked at it from Barry's perspective of him, it seemed impossible. She believed that Oliver was capable of saving people, that he had the heart and the determination to do something like that. But was he a killer? Could he really be viewed as a monster the way that Barry said? She had previously brushed off the instances when The Hood killed, probably because she didn't want to think that Oliver had done it.

Felicity's mind wandered along with her body, until her feet finally made their final protest. They were throbbing, and she knew that time must have gotten away from her. She sighed, pulling off her shoes and letting the cool pavement soothe her feet. It was dark now, but she didn't have a lot of fear, not even in Starling. She'd done extensive background checks on everyone in the neighborhood before choosing her apartment a year and a half ago.

She made her way up the stairs and into her apartment, dropping her shoes by the door and noticing a familiar smell. She didn't recognize the fancy Italian dish, exactly. But she recognized the cooking, the chef. She turned the corner to her kitchen and saw Oliver nursing a beer while he stood in front of her stove.

"How did you even get in here?" she asked, leaning against the door frame. She knew that she should feel anxious; everything with Sara, what Barry said about The Hood, the file she found, everything going on between them, the fact that she was almost certain he was the vigilante. But all she felt was relief to see him, she felt a desire to tell him about everything. It'd been a few days since she'd seen him last. She'd stopped by to visit Thea, knowing that Oliver would be there. Because she knew Thea, she knew that it wouldn't just be a girls' night. Thea is a meddler, and Felicity guessed that she was probably trying to get them back together. Her hunch was proven correct when Thea insisted on making dinner and then "getting a phone call" and leaving for the entire meal. She'd shared a nice, polite, and safe dinner with him; guard up and walls high. They didn't talk about much, especially not Tommy after their argument outside of her apartment the week before. Felicity knew she was in trouble though, because even that awkward, and pretty boring dinner with Oliver made her happy, just to have spent time with him.

Felicity was too tired for the back and forth, the push and pull. She hated how he would be kind and sweet one day and cold and standoffish the next. It was messing with her head. She couldn't even tell if he liked her or not, let alone thought about her as much as she thought about him.

"I have my ways," he answered her question with a wink over her shoulder that put a knot in her throat.

She chuckled, "Making me dinner would be a sweeter gesture if you didn't break into my apartment to do it."

He smiled at her, putting his spoon down and carrying a glass of wine over to her. Felicity sighed, sitting at the table and stretching her legs out in front of her. "Now this is something I could get used to." She hesitated, not wanting to scare him off or make him guarded, "So why are you here? Just to cook me pasta, or is there something else?"

"Well..." Oliver said, turning his back to her, focusing on the noodles. Felicity took a big gulp of her red wine, and then another. "I need to ask you for a favor."

"Does this one require breaking into a hospital's private records?"

"Not exactly," he smiled slyly over at her.

Felicity rolled her eyes, knowing that his smile could convince her to do anything he wanted. "What do you need?"

"I need you...to find someone." Oliver turned the burners off on the stove, and placed the spoon on the counter. He came to the table and sat down across from her. "Look, this isn't going to sound good, so I need you to just...stay calm, and to keep it between me and you, okay?"

Felicity nodded, mesmerized by the intense look in his eyes. It was a new one, mysterious. It was like she could see hundreds of secrets rattling on cages to be set free, but he wouldn't let them out. Not yet. She hoped that he would share them with her though, someday. "I need you to find Sara Lance." Oliver said, keeping his eyes on hers.

Felicity stared back, wide eyed. She took a moment to think by clearing her throat and putting her wine glass on the table. "What?" she asked, trying to play it cool but her voice cracked.

"Sara hasn't been seen in nearly four years. There hasn't been mail sent in her name in almost three months, but even when she was sending post cards to her father, there was no evidence that she was in the countries she said she was. I haven't been able to track her down since I got here. I haven't been able to find any reason to believe that Sara Lance even left the country. Just the postcards from various islands."

"How do you even know about any of that?" Felicity asked, her eyes searching his.

Oliver inhaled before answering, "I don't have a good feeling about it Felicity, I don't know where she is. We need to find her. Please, will you help me?"

"Oliver..."

"Please, Felicity, could you check for me? I know it's a lot to ask. I know it requires hacking databases that you don't have any business in, but I just need to know that she's okay."

Felicity sighed, taking Oliver by the hand and leading him to her computers. She turned them on and pulled up all of her 'Sara files', all of her research. Oliver looked surprised, but only for a moment. "Why are you already looking into it?"

"Quentin mentioned that he hasn't heard from her in a while. I thought that I would just check in. And that was three months ago. I still haven't been able to find her." Felicity cupped her face in her hands as she stared at the screens, "I'm glad you know, though. I don't know what it means. Every lead has been a dead end." Felicity pulled up the photo from the Philippines, "Except for this one. This is the only photo I've been able to find of Sara since she left Starling. And I can't even be certain that this is her."

"Felicity," Oliver started, his eyes on the photo, "why wouldn't you bring this to the police?"

"I...I've done some hacking jobs," Felicity said slowly, wondering how to explain the strange things she has seen, the things she knows from working with Barry and his team. "Something about Sara's case doesn't sit right..." she pressed her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes, "would you think I'm crazy if I said I don't trust the police? If I said that they wouldn't be any help?"

Oliver leaned into the screen, staring at the photo, "No..."

"Look, all we have right now is a young girl who is keeping in touch with her family through postcards. Even if she's not where she says she is, that doesn't mean she's hurt or lost. The police have limits; I can hack into databases and records that they can't touch."

"Does Tommy know about this?"

"No," Felicity answered, "and neither does Quentin. They think that she's island hopping and dodging everyone from home. I don't want them to worry...but I think its time to worry."

Oliver continued to stare at the photo while Felicity looked up at him. "Oliver...it seems like you know everything that I've already found...how?"

Oliver glared down at her coldly. The walls were going up, and she knew she'd have to fight hard to get them back down. "Why didn't you tell me you were looking into her disappearance?" His voice was accusing, and Felicity felt her blood boil at his tone.

"First of all," she stood up, forcing him to stand up too from where he hovered over her. "I didn't know that it was even a 'disappearance' until right now. And second of all, I would tell Laurel, Lance and Tommy before I would tell you, and I haven't told them. Because I didn't know if it was anything to worry about. All I've got is a blurry picture of a blonde girl in the Philippines wearing a Starling Rockets baseball cap."

"You didn't think it was worth mentioning that you can't find any record of her travels? She's been sending postcards, and it didn't strike you as off that you couldn't find any evidence that Sara was actually at the places she said she was?"

"Did I find it off that a girl who goes island hopping to run from a heartbreak would cover her tracks? No. I thought she didn't want to hear from Laurel or Quentin. I've only been trying to find her whereabouts for the past three months, not since she left. I didn't cross check any of that. We all thought that she's been where she said she was."

"Well it doesn't look like she has, now does it?"

Felicity glared, "Get out, Oliver." Oliver stared for a moment, not sure if she was serious. She raised an eyebrow at him before walking to the door and holding it open for him. The stress of everything was starting to tear her down, her life had changed so drastically, so fast, and she hadn't had time to catch up with it. She never would have thought that she'd be kicking Oliver Queen out of her apartment, but she needed time to think, to process everything and figure out a plan, and if he wasn't going to help her, if he was going to be against her instead of with her, well, then... "Get out." She repeated.

"What?" he asked.

Felicity sighed, "I am way too tired...of everything...to stand here and listen to you blame me, as if its my fault that Sara's missing."

Oliver shook his head, wondering what was wrong with him. His intentions when he came home was for Felicity to hate him. He wanted her to push him so far away that he could never hurt her again, because she was too smart to let him. But he'd failed, and his half-ass attempts at pushing her away weren't worth much when he paired it with an apology. And his apologies weren't worth very much either anymore, when he gave them nearly every time she spoke to him. "I'm sorry," he said anyway.

Felicity leaned against the open door, resting her head on the wood.

"I haven't been very fair to you." he said quietly, his head down. He walked across the room to stand in front of her.

"No, you haven't." She replied, keeping one hand at her side and the other tightly gripping the doorknob.

"It'd be a lot easier if I could just walk away from you." He was so close that she had to tilt her head up to see his eyes, and he could tell that she was still angry by the way she glared at him, her blue eyes fiery and beautiful, passionate.

Felicity kept her voice even, "Why can't you?"

"Because I've already walked away from you once, and it was the worst pain I've ever felt. I know I can't do it again. That's why I've been trying to get you to."

"Well I won't either." She said defiantly, her eyes not leaving his.

Oliver sighed, pulling her away from the door, he closed it. Oliver stepped closer to her, and she instinctively took one away, her back against the wall. Oliver placed his hands on the wall, on either side of her head. "I guess we're at an impasse then."

Felicity felt the change in the air. It may not be the heart-pouring conversation she was hoping for, but he had acknowledged it; out loud. He was pushing her away. Not only that, but he was unable to walk away from her again. Her heart was racing as he leaned closer, resting his forehead to hers. "I know I don't deserve you; don't deserve this. But I want it." he murmured.

"So take it," she whispered back, her voice shaky, but sure. Oliver met her gaze, analyzed her for a moment as if to confirm that she meant it. He knew that he hadn't really given her the answers that she wanted or that she deserved, but she was nodding, her hands sliding up his back, and he sighed under her touch, stepping forward to press himself against her, to move his hips against hers. Felicity let out a breathy moan, "I want this, Oliver."

Oliver let his fingers graze her bare legs, exploring up until he reached her shorts, and then sliding his hands around to grab her backside and pull her tighter against him, eliciting another, louder moan from her lips. He crushed his lips to hers, and her arms wound around his neck.

They were both breathless and lost in their kiss, it took a moment for the ringing phone to register to either of them. Oliver noticed it first, and he let out an annoyed grunt without taking his mouth from Felicity's.

It was only when he reached down to pull her phone from her pocket that she heard the ringing. But even then, she held his face tighter, not wanting to stop, kissing the corner of his mouth while he opened one eye to see who was calling her. His brow furrowed, but he didn't stop her lips from roaming over his cheek and neck while he pushed the green button with a harsh "What?"

"Oliver?"

"What do you need, Tommy?" Oliver would be lying if he said that he was only irritated at the interruption. It made it worse that it was Tommy. His phone was right in his pocket, and his hadn't been ringing. Tommy was calling hers. And the cherry on top was that Felicity's lips froze on his jaw when he spoke, when he said 'Tommy' and she realized it was him on the phone.

"Oh, Uh, I just wanted to ask Felicity if she wanted to grab dinner tomorrow night...I was going to call you next." Felicity pulled away, meeting Oliver's gaze. She could obviously hear the conversation. "But since you're with her, I'll just ask you both now. How about Big Belly at 8:00, like old times." Oliver heard him, but he was a little preoccupied watching Felicity. She didn't look away while she pursed her swollen lips, smoothing her hair behind her ears.

"Sure," Oliver answered, handing the phone to Felicity before Tommy could reply.

"Hello?" She said, breaking her gaze now, and gently pushing Oliver away, walking across the room as Tommy responded, where Oliver couldn't hear.

"Holy shit. That was close. I actually wanted to ask if you've seen the news tonight."

"Uh, sure, Tommy. Dinner sounds great."

"Yeah, whatever. Some guy got arrested tonight. He got the shit beaten out of him. Felicity, I think Oliver did it."

"Okay, I'll call you tomorrow once Oliver and I talk about it. I don't know if I want Belly Burger again. We just ate there last week." She rolled her eyes at Oliver, "Talk to you later Tommy." She hung up, making her way back over to Oliver. She could tell that he was confused, unsure, and maybe even nervous.

"Dinner tomorrow with Tommy." He said, nodding.

Felicity forced a smile, "Yeah," she said, "I'll try to find out where Sara is before that. I know you don't want to have to spend time with him while hiding a secret like this from him. I don't want there to be secrets."

Oliver stared into her eyes, "Right. Well, maybe it's better if we...get all of that figured out...before, you know, you and I think about..."

"Okay," Felicity whispered.

Oliver leaned forward and cradled her face between his hands, "I do love you, Felicity Smoak. I always have." He kissed her forehead, "I always will."

Felicity nodded, "We're going to be okay, Oliver. I believe that." She pressed a small, light kiss against his lips before showing him out of her apartment. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Once Oliver was gone, she turned on her television. The man who had been arrested was some lowlife drug dealer from The Glades. He'd been peddling a new drug called Vertigo before he was beaten and put behind bars. Felicity called Tommy back. "Why do you think it was Oliver?" she asked before he could even say 'hello'.

"Does that mean you believe that Oliver's The Hood now?"

"It means...I don't know why The Hood, or Oliver, would care about a drug dealer. Yeah drugs are bad, but he's been going after businessmen, corrupt politicians...he's been ridding the city of its top scumbags with all the money and power to break it, why would The Hood, or Oliver, set his sights on a random drug dealer from The Glades?"

"Vertigo is dangerous." Tommy said, and she could hear him take a sip of beer.

"Still..." Felicity said, "How would this have even gotten on The Hood's, or Oliver's radar in the first place?"

"I don't know," Tommy sighed, hesitating "maybe this one was personal. Maybe it's about revenge for him."

"Why would it be-" Felicity stared at the screen, at the photo of the man they were calling Count Vertigo, at his eyes.

Something about them was familiar. "I'll call you back," she mumbled before hanging up and frantically pulling out the file Oliver had stolen from the hospital.

Count Vertigo has piercing blue eyes, just like the boy in the photos. The eyes could be a coincidence, but Oliver stealing this file, leaving it in her apartment, a man resembling the beaten boy in the pictures being arrested...that couldn't be just a coincidence.

"Breaking News in the Count Vertigo case," the woman on the news said. Felicity spun around quickly, staring wide-eyed at the reporter. "Count Vertigo has been identified. Police have identified The Glades most-wanted drug dealer as David Harper. It has also been confirmed that Harper's arrest had a lot to do with our new vigilante, The Hood. Harper is a father to one son, seventeen year old Roy Harper, who hasn't been located for comment at this time."

Felicity held up the picture of the beaten twelve year old boy to the photo of Roy Harper on her television, her hands shaking as she found her proof that Oliver was The Hood, but wondering how he was connected to Roy Harper.