Arrow Oliver Queen Forbidden Family Bonds Incestuous Affair
Author's note: Incest one-shot involving characters from the TV show "Arrow." All characters involved belong to their respective owners. All characters are over 18 years of age.
Continuity wise, I suppose this is set after episode 1.14, "The Odyssey" as it references events occurring in that episode. However, I have no choice but to completely ignore the fact that the vigilante confronted Moira and pretend it never happened, that development would throw way too much of a monkey wrench into everything.
My first ever fanfic, so all reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated!
Oliver Queen woke up in the morning in his own bed at 8 AM. He stared at the ceiling, and sighed. He wished that he was alone.
But he wasn't alone. And as soon as he twitched and moved, Carrie Cutler's cold limbs surrounded him as a reminder of that fact.
"Mmm, Ollie, baby, you rocked my world last night."
He was suddenly filled with a bit of contempt. Only people special to him could call him "Ollie." Carrie Cutler was not one of those people. And he immediately regretted his decision last night.
He knew he had to keep up appearances. He knew that he had to be Oliver Queen, billionaire playboy without a care who would sleep with any pair of curves that had two legs. That irresponsible person couldn't possibly be the notorious vigilante who's been going around Starling City.
But that irresponsible playboy wasn't his true self. Not anymore. Not after the island changed him. Maybe the fiction he created was true of the selfish man who went on that boat trip five years ago, but not the man he was now. Not now. And he had to continue to pretend to be that man to avoid any suspicion. Right now, having dalliances with women was the best excuse he could come up with as to why he didn't return home several nights of the week. He had the "working on the nightclub" excuse, but that was relatively flimsy and he could only play that card so many times. For the most part, his best excuse for not coming home was that he was out on an excursion with a beautiful socialite.
But it wouldn't be believable if, for some reason, every single night ended up with him visiting the woman's home and never brought back any to his own. He realized this. Last night he was recuperating from a particularly difficult take-down a few nights earlier, so he decided to give in to Carrie Cutler's advances to help support his fiction.
And while it was true that he did indeed have sexual relations with Carrie last night, Oliver didn't feel anything. He went through the motions. And afterwards, he felt disgusted.
Carrie was the first woman he had slept with after the island experience since Helena. And Helena....well, he had deceived himself into thinking that she was right for him, that she understood him. He had felt something, if only temporarily. But Helena clearly proved herself later to not be the right one for him, to not be someone understood him as he had previously desired. He surmised that he was projecting. Still, at the time, he could justify the connection, could justify how he felt at the time. He could not justify any sort of connection with Carrie. A pointless dalliance to keep up appearances.
"Hey stud," she turned to him in bed and said, "how about I cook you some breakfast?"
"That sounds fantastic," he lied as he smiled at her.
Carrie grabbed her clothes from the floor and put them on. Then, she walked out the door and closed it behind her. She stopped in the hallway. Someone was there. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were out there."
Oliver knew exactly who was out there. The voice was a bit muffled through the door, but he knew who it belonged to. His mother was on a business trip for two weeks, and Walter was still missing, so there was only one other person sharing the house with him for the time being.
"Have fun last night?" the voice outside the door asked Carrie.
"Oh, listen, I'm so sorry...I didn't realize you were here...look, I don't want to cause any awkwardness....if you want me to leave, then I will..."
"No, it's okay. It's fine, really."
"Well...um...actually I just remembered, I have an appointment I need to go to. I'll be out of your hair," Carrie replied. She then walked back inside Oliver's bedroom, grabbed her purse and her other belongings, and then stood at the doorframe again. She looked back at Oliver briefly as he lay in bed. "Hey, listen, Ollie, sorry, I actually have to go...talk to you soon?"
"Yeah, for sure," Oliver lied, with a smile.
"Okay, great. Thanks again," Carrie smiled, as she closed the door. Oliver heard her walk down the stairs and leave. He sighed, and waited in bed for another five minutes. He slowly crawled out of bed, put on his clothes, and then stepped outside his room.
He was hoping the person who spoke to Carrie would have gone back to her room or downstairs by now. But, no. Thea was still standing in the hallway, arms folded.
He looked down at the ground for a moment, then moved his eyes back upwards towards his little sister.
Thea stared at him for a moment, with a clear look of disapproval. She shrugged her shoulders, then mimicked their recent visitor's words in a high pitched tone. "Okay great, thanks again!" she said in a juvenile mocking voice.
"Speedy..." Oliver said with a sigh as she walked towards her. She backed away.
"I don't like her, Ollie," she said defiantly. "I know who that is. Carrie Cutler. Spoiled socialite...she loves the tabloids, sells out gossip about her friends to them..."
"Speedy, it was nothing. I agree with you in that I don't particularly care for her as a person. I'm not interested in dating her. It was just a drunken mistake. I regret it now," he replied, trying to console her.
"Do you?" she said, her mood starting to warm. "Well...that's good, then. I just thought you should know that I don't particularly care for your choice of friends in this instance."
Oliver was glad that the mood had lightened somewhat. He chuckled to himself for a moment, then looked back at Thea. "Speedy, from what I can recall, you have never approved of any of my choices in 'friends.'"
Thea stared back at her big brother for a moment, then started to laugh. "Well, I guess you have a point. Look...I'm sorry, but I always idolized you growing up. I just never thought any of them were good enough for you. I guess I still can't help but think that way."
"That's okay, Speedy. I understand," he said as he playfully knocked her on the chin.
"I do feel kinda bad about the waffles though. I'd offer to make you some myself in exchange for sending away your would-be cook, but I have to get to the office, like, right now."
Oliver couldn't help but laugh at this statement, given her attire. She had to do some internship work at CNRI because of her arrest, but she obviously was trying to make a statement with her attire.
"Sis, you're wearing a see-through shirt that shows your bra underneath. I'm not sure that's entirely appropriate work attire."
"That's kind of the point. Think of it as a form of 'silent protest,'" she grinned. She walked past his room towards the stairwell, giving big brother a playful bump on the shoulder along the way, before turning back towards him at the top of the stairs. "It's sooo boring there. I don't even have anything to do."
"I kind of gathered that, considering that whenever you have to go there you seem to be mostly preoccupied with e-mailing me funny pictures of cats."
"You love it. I'll find some good ones," she laughed, as she slowly started to walk down the stairwell. Oliver smiled, then walked back towards his bedroom and started to open the door.
Before he could open it, Thea turned back to him and addressed him.
"Ollie? Wait, one thing real quick," she said.
"Yeah?"
"In the wake of all of that...business...I have a question for you."
Oliver looked at the floor for a minute and chuckled. He had a feeling that he knew what was coming next. "Oh, really? Come on, Speedy. Don't tell me it's that same question again."
His tone was one of mock-annoyance. Despite that, he really hoped with all his heart that it was indeed "that same question" again.
"That question" was thinking about had started when Oliver was 13 years old. That was when he started to go on "dates" with girls. Altogether innocent dates, mostly going to the movies with parental supervision, hanging around the house and playing games, that sort of thing, before the girl's parents drove her home at THE END
Continuity wise, I suppose this is set after episode 1.14, "The Odyssey" as it references events occurring in that episode. However, I have no choice but to completely ignore the fact that the vigilante confronted Moira and pretend it never happened, that development would throw way too much of a monkey wrench into everything.
My first ever fanfic, so all reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated!
Oliver Queen woke up in the morning in his own bed at 8 AM. He stared at the ceiling, and sighed. He wished that he was alone.
But he wasn't alone. And as soon as he twitched and moved, Carrie Cutler's cold limbs surrounded him as a reminder of that fact.
"Mmm, Ollie, baby, you rocked my world last night."
He was suddenly filled with a bit of contempt. Only people special to him could call him "Ollie." Carrie Cutler was not one of those people. And he immediately regretted his decision last night.
He knew he had to keep up appearances. He knew that he had to be Oliver Queen, billionaire playboy without a care who would sleep with any pair of curves that had two legs. That irresponsible person couldn't possibly be the notorious vigilante who's been going around Starling City.
But that irresponsible playboy wasn't his true self. Not anymore. Not after the island changed him. Maybe the fiction he created was true of the selfish man who went on that boat trip five years ago, but not the man he was now. Not now. And he had to continue to pretend to be that man to avoid any suspicion. Right now, having dalliances with women was the best excuse he could come up with as to why he didn't return home several nights of the week. He had the "working on the nightclub" excuse, but that was relatively flimsy and he could only play that card so many times. For the most part, his best excuse for not coming home was that he was out on an excursion with a beautiful socialite.
But it wouldn't be believable if, for some reason, every single night ended up with him visiting the woman's home and never brought back any to his own. He realized this. Last night he was recuperating from a particularly difficult take-down a few nights earlier, so he decided to give in to Carrie Cutler's advances to help support his fiction.
And while it was true that he did indeed have sexual relations with Carrie last night, Oliver didn't feel anything. He went through the motions. And afterwards, he felt disgusted.
Carrie was the first woman he had slept with after the island experience since Helena. And Helena....well, he had deceived himself into thinking that she was right for him, that she understood him. He had felt something, if only temporarily. But Helena clearly proved herself later to not be the right one for him, to not be someone understood him as he had previously desired. He surmised that he was projecting. Still, at the time, he could justify the connection, could justify how he felt at the time. He could not justify any sort of connection with Carrie. A pointless dalliance to keep up appearances.
"Hey stud," she turned to him in bed and said, "how about I cook you some breakfast?"
"That sounds fantastic," he lied as he smiled at her.
Carrie grabbed her clothes from the floor and put them on. Then, she walked out the door and closed it behind her. She stopped in the hallway. Someone was there. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were out there."
Oliver knew exactly who was out there. The voice was a bit muffled through the door, but he knew who it belonged to. His mother was on a business trip for two weeks, and Walter was still missing, so there was only one other person sharing the house with him for the time being.
"Have fun last night?" the voice outside the door asked Carrie.
"Oh, listen, I'm so sorry...I didn't realize you were here...look, I don't want to cause any awkwardness....if you want me to leave, then I will..."
"No, it's okay. It's fine, really."
"Well...um...actually I just remembered, I have an appointment I need to go to. I'll be out of your hair," Carrie replied. She then walked back inside Oliver's bedroom, grabbed her purse and her other belongings, and then stood at the doorframe again. She looked back at Oliver briefly as he lay in bed. "Hey, listen, Ollie, sorry, I actually have to go...talk to you soon?"
"Yeah, for sure," Oliver lied, with a smile.
"Okay, great. Thanks again," Carrie smiled, as she closed the door. Oliver heard her walk down the stairs and leave. He sighed, and waited in bed for another five minutes. He slowly crawled out of bed, put on his clothes, and then stepped outside his room.
He was hoping the person who spoke to Carrie would have gone back to her room or downstairs by now. But, no. Thea was still standing in the hallway, arms folded.
He looked down at the ground for a moment, then moved his eyes back upwards towards his little sister.
Thea stared at him for a moment, with a clear look of disapproval. She shrugged her shoulders, then mimicked their recent visitor's words in a high pitched tone. "Okay great, thanks again!" she said in a juvenile mocking voice.
"Speedy..." Oliver said with a sigh as she walked towards her. She backed away.
"I don't like her, Ollie," she said defiantly. "I know who that is. Carrie Cutler. Spoiled socialite...she loves the tabloids, sells out gossip about her friends to them..."
"Speedy, it was nothing. I agree with you in that I don't particularly care for her as a person. I'm not interested in dating her. It was just a drunken mistake. I regret it now," he replied, trying to console her.
"Do you?" she said, her mood starting to warm. "Well...that's good, then. I just thought you should know that I don't particularly care for your choice of friends in this instance."
Oliver was glad that the mood had lightened somewhat. He chuckled to himself for a moment, then looked back at Thea. "Speedy, from what I can recall, you have never approved of any of my choices in 'friends.'"
Thea stared back at her big brother for a moment, then started to laugh. "Well, I guess you have a point. Look...I'm sorry, but I always idolized you growing up. I just never thought any of them were good enough for you. I guess I still can't help but think that way."
"That's okay, Speedy. I understand," he said as he playfully knocked her on the chin.
"I do feel kinda bad about the waffles though. I'd offer to make you some myself in exchange for sending away your would-be cook, but I have to get to the office, like, right now."
Oliver couldn't help but laugh at this statement, given her attire. She had to do some internship work at CNRI because of her arrest, but she obviously was trying to make a statement with her attire.
"Sis, you're wearing a see-through shirt that shows your bra underneath. I'm not sure that's entirely appropriate work attire."
"That's kind of the point. Think of it as a form of 'silent protest,'" she grinned. She walked past his room towards the stairwell, giving big brother a playful bump on the shoulder along the way, before turning back towards him at the top of the stairs. "It's sooo boring there. I don't even have anything to do."
"I kind of gathered that, considering that whenever you have to go there you seem to be mostly preoccupied with e-mailing me funny pictures of cats."
"You love it. I'll find some good ones," she laughed, as she slowly started to walk down the stairwell. Oliver smiled, then walked back towards his bedroom and started to open the door.
Before he could open it, Thea turned back to him and addressed him.
"Ollie? Wait, one thing real quick," she said.
"Yeah?"
"In the wake of all of that...business...I have a question for you."
Oliver looked at the floor for a minute and chuckled. He had a feeling that he knew what was coming next. "Oh, really? Come on, Speedy. Don't tell me it's that same question again."
His tone was one of mock-annoyance. Despite that, he really hoped with all his heart that it was indeed "that same question" again.
"That question" was thinking about had started when Oliver was 13 years old. That was when he started to go on "dates" with girls. Altogether innocent dates, mostly going to the movies with parental supervision, hanging around the house and playing games, that sort of thing, before the girl's parents drove her home at THE END
