Crime and Punishment: Arrow Style

So this is an AU, with criminal Felicity and a meaner, much darker Oliver.

*****

She ran for her life in the darkened warehouse, certain this was it. Today would be the day she died.

She wanted to beg and plead, but she'd heard of this man. He couldn't be reasoned with, at least not by people like her. So she ran for the back exit that she was sure had to be there. But she must have taken a wrong turning somewhere, because in front of her was only a blank wall. And behind her were footsteps coming to a halt, and the sound of a bowstring being pulled back, to maximum tension.

When she turned around, a tall figure in green, hood shadowing his face, was in front of her, aiming an arrow at her heart.

"FELICITY SMOAK. YOU HAVE FAILED THIS CITY!"

How did he even know her name? She'd used a fake name for everything! She thought she'd been under the radar!

"Please don't kill me! I'll do whatever you want!" She tried to reach him, even though she knew it would be useless.

"Return the money you stole. Do it now!" His voice was too deep to be natural - he was using some kind of modulator. This occurred to her before the meaning of his words sank in - she couldn't do that!

"They'll kill me!"

An arrow buried itself in the crumbling concrete next to her head, and she screamed.

"That's not my problem."

He pushed a tablet into her trembling hands and she quickly started the programs which would reverse the transactions she'd done. Every time she looked up from the tablet, he was standing there, looming over her. Finally, she was done, and she told him that. He grabbed the tablet and turned to walk away.

"Wait!" This was her last chance, and she was taking it.

He stopped, but didn't turn back around.

"They're going to kill me. You know that. First they'll torture me for a few hours. Or maybe chain me to a bed and fuck me for a few days. If I'm lucky, they'll kill me then."

"So? Why should I care what happens to you?"

Because you gave me three or four chances, Felicity thought. Because you want something from me, or else I'd be dead already.

"Maybe we can make a deal," she said, tentatively.

He turned around and stalked towards her, forcing her back up against the wall, so close that she had to crane her neck to look up at him.

"I don't need your money," he sneered.

"You're in luck, 'cause I don't have any!" Temper, Felicity, she thought.

She looked up at him, biting her lower lip, and carefully pushed him away. As soon as she touched his chest, she realised that something she was doing must be having an effect. He was warm, and was breathing fast, though he hid it well.

Good thing her hair was down. She started unbuttoning her blouse, and unfastened her bra at the same time, pushing them both off her shoulders. And he swallowed. She actually saw his Adam's apple moving. Now he's going to try and deny it, she thought, and she had to be ready to take it to the next level. She snuck a look at his groin - yup, that was an erection. A big one, if she wasn't mistaken.

"What are you doing?" His voice still sounded harsh, electronic, deep. But he wasn't walking away, or stopping her.

Instead of answering, she hooked her thumbs into her waistband and her panties, pushing them both off at the same time, and then stepping out of them. Then she looked at him through her lashes. Your move, Robin Hood.

He stalked towards her again. Oh shit, Felicity. He's either going to fuck you or kill you. He slammed her against the wall, and pulled down a hanging chain she hadn't seen, until it reached its end. He tugged down a couple times, to check it was secure, she guessed, and lifted her arms.

"Hold on to that and don't let go."

Oh god, he was going to do it. He'd taken the bait.

She heard his zipper go down, and her breathing grew faster, but she didn't dare look, at first. He must have taken his gloves off too, as when his fingers slipped into her pussy, they were bare. God, she was so dry - she snuck a look down at his cock - and he was enormous. He'd tear her apart.

Except he was playing with her clit, occasionally flicking it, slipping his fingers in her and fucking her with them. So he didn't want to hurt her. Not much, anyway. She was getting wetter, and soon the only sounds in the warehouse were their combined breathing, and the wet noises of his fingers moving inside her. And her sudden squeal as she came. When she could see again, he put his hands under her thighs and lifted her so that they were eye to eye.

"Put my cock inside you."

She guided his enormous prick inside her and whined as he stretched her. God, he was huge! Either that, or she was seriously out of practice. He gave her a moment to catch her breath and started fucking her for real, bouncing her on his cock as she held on for dear life. This time the wet noises were even louder, as well as her squeaking every time he bottomed out inside her.

"You think you can buy your life with one quick fuck?" he said contemptuously, even as he thrust faster and faster inside her, as her breasts bobbed up and down.

"I'll be your slave," she babbled. "You can keep me!" To be honest, she had no idea what she was saying, she was so full, stretched to her limit.

She could see into the darkness of his hood and saw him raise an eyebrow at that. He turned them away from the wall, causing her to grab onto his impossibly broad shoulders, and lowered them to the ground, still inside her, rock-hard. He was careful until her back was on the ground, then he pulled her wrists painfully above her head, tying them together.

He spread her legs impossibly wide and really started pounding into her, pinching her breasts cruelly, and even flicking her clit until she came again. The slapping squelching noises seemed to last forever, until his thrusts grew wilder and he gasped, shuddering. He must have come, because he paused momentarily and then pulled out. She could feel his come trickling out of her and felt dazed for a few seconds. He lifted her to her feet and put her blouse over her shoulders. She looked at her skirt and underwear, but he shook his head.

He pulled her to a waiting van, and pushed her inside, closing the doors behind her. She stood in the darkness for a few seconds, until the sound of a starting engine made her sit down, hurriedly. What had she done? Was she crazy? If she told him she'd changed her mind, he'd just leave her to the tender mercies of the Russian mob, and compared to them, he was a nice guy. With a huge cock. She winced slightly as she shifted, and wondered if he'd want to fuck her again tonight. She didn't know his name, she thought. She didn't even know what he looked like.

Felicity must have fallen asleep, because she woke up as the doors to the van opened. He was still wearing his green leather, but before she could ask him anything, he started loading suitcases. After a few seconds, it dawned on her - those were her suitcases! She looked at him in shock. He folded his arms, and his voice, when it came, sounded like he was trying to be patient.

"You can't go back there. They know where you live." She nodded, but he'd already closed the door. The van drove off again, but this time she was too tense to fall asleep. After about half an hour, it stopped again, and this time he climbed in the back with her.

"Get on your knees."

She obeyed him, and bit her lip, nervously. He unzipped his pants, and she knew what he wanted. She looked up at him, but couldn't see his expression in the shadowy darkness of his hood. His cock was hard, and she licked it, tentatively at first, lapping at the head. She started sucking it, her head bobbing up and down, but he stopped her. He got behind her and pushed her down on her hands and knees, so that her ass was facing him. Oh no. He wasn't. She'd never. There was the sound of a flip-top cap, and the slick sound of him rubbing stuff on his cock. Then she felt a slick finger probing her asshole, and she yelped.

"Was that a no?" he asked, in a dangerous voice.

She shook her head, not trusting her voice, and pushed her ass higher towards him. He slid his finger inside her ass, stretching it, and then added a second one, fucking her with his fingers. Then they pulled out, leaving her empty, but not for long.

His cock felt even bigger than before as it started pushing its way in her ass. She couldn't stop it, she was so slick, thanks to him. She whined as he bottomed out, and, like before, he gave her a second to get used to it. Then he started fucking her ass, his balls slapping against her as he thrust. She couldn't help grunting every time he thrust, but she didn't really get into it until he put one hand around her waist and then crooked two fingers in her pussy, playing with her clit while he pounded her ass. She whimpered and squealed as he pumped, the sounds of their fucking obscene in the enclosed space they were in.

Just as she started to get tired and sore, he thrust a few more times, then groaned. He pulled out of her, and she could feel more semen trickling out of her stretched asshole. He went back to the front, and the van started up again, and she realised he'd only stopped to fuck her. She wanted to feel horrified and violated, but she'd volunteered for this. What else was he going to do to her? Was he going to keep her prisoner, tie her to a bed?

She must have fallen asleep again, because she woke up as he was carrying her into a building. It looked like it was falling to pieces, but the deeper they went in, the more she realised it was just a façade. Finally they found a door with a hidden keypad, he punched in a code, and they were in a mid-sized apartment. He carried her through to the bedroom, and threw her on the bed.

"Spread your legs."

She blushed, but obeyed him.

"Stay that way until I come back."

He went to an adjoining room which must be a bathroom, and she could hear the sound of running water. So he was cleaning up? She was dying to take a shower, too. Maybe after he fucked her again she'd ask for one.

When he came back in, he was dressed in normal clothes, a long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. A balaclava covered his face, except for his eyes, which were very blue. And completely lacking in mercy. He knelt in front of her and opened his pants, bringing out his hard cock.

He pushed her down on her back and slid in, fucking her hard and fast.

He pulled out roughly, and dragged her to another part of the apartment. He lay her down on the kitchen table, tying her knees to the legs so that she was cruelly spread apart. Her arms were tied apart too. He dimmed the lights and she started getting nervous. He stood between her spread legs and stroked her thighs, before playing with her pussy, flicking her clit as she squeaked. Then he sighed, and seemed to control himself with an effort.

"We're going to have to make a video," he said. "Your friends in the Bratva aren't going to be convinced that you're dead unless they watch it happen."

"So you're going to kill me," she said, horrified, starting to panic.

"No," he rolled his eyes. "It'll be fake. But we need to sell it. And I'm going to do so many terrible things to you before that."

She opened her mouth to scream, but he had thought of that, and taped her mouth shut. He brought out a camera and started filming her body, pausing over her pussy and her ass, lingering on her breasts, and ending at her probably terrified face.

He started saying stuff for the video, talking about debts, and how she was going to pay before he killed her. Then he brought out his cock again and started fucking her, squeezing and slapping her breasts as he thrust. He pulled out and jerked off all over her face, ropes of semen hitting her as she cried and begged. He brought out an enormous dildo from somewhere and fed it slowly into her vagina, while he pushed a butt plug into her ass, and finally, held a vibrator to her clit until she shrieked and came, constricting painfully round the hard toys in her ass and pussy.

She was sobbing uncontrollably now. He came around to her face and ripped the duct tape off, roughly.

"Where's all the money?" He yelled in her face, so close that she could feel the spittle hit it.

"He made me give it back," she screamed. "Please, please let me go! I'll get it back for you, I promise!" She realised she wasn't acting anymore, if she had ever been. She should have asked for an arrow back at the warehouse. It would have been better than this.

"Lying bitch!"

He backhanded her across the face, and she saw stars wheel across her vision. He'd been lying, she suddenly realised. He was going to kill her. As if to confirm her sudden thought, he walked behind her, and lifted her head so that she was looking right at the blinking red light of the camera. He put one arm around her neck and started squeezing.

"So long, Sally," he sneered.

As the room grew dark and she fought for breath, her last conscious thought was puzzlement. He knew her real name. Why did he use the fake one? Why was he still acting, if he was going to kill her anyway? And then, nothing.

Waking up was as sudden as an electric shock. Felicity sat up, and he was there, still in the same clothes, his face still covered by the balaclava. She shrank back from him, whimpering, conscious that she was still naked and filthy, that not much time had passed. He looked away, clenching his fists. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was . . . ashamed? Regretful? She registered the sound of running water in another room.

"I've started a bath for you," he said. "Can you walk?"

She didn't trust herself to speak, and stared at him dumbly. What was going on? Why was he being so nice to her? Why wasn't she dead? He walked to her side and, showing her his hands at all times, lifted her in his arms and carried her to the other room, which really was a bathroom. The bath was half full, and scented foam covered the water. She sighed as she saw it, and he put her down. He took her hand and put it in the water, which was hot, but bearable. She couldn't wait anymore and climbed in, sitting down, and could not hold back a moan.

"Don't fall asleep."

He left the bathroom and she started washing herself, desperate to be clean. The water soon became filthy with whatever she'd picked up from the warehouse floor and the van, but not, she was happy to see, blood. She pulled the plug and stood up, starting the shower. There was shampoo so she decided to wash her hair, too, and felt much better when she got out. There were thick towels and a floor length robe, and after a second's debate, she put it on. He could always take it off her if he wanted to fuck her again.

When she walked out into the other room, he was sitting in front of a laptop, working on the video he'd made. She was glad he'd turned the sound off - she didn't particularly want to hear the sound of her screams.

"Come here, and sit down."

She obeyed him instantly. And looked at him, waiting for further instructions. He winced.

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

She started speaking, and her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat and started again.

"What do you want me to say? And my throat hurts."

He nodded.

"I'm sorry. I had to make it convincing."

He was sorry? What the hell was going on? He sounded different than in the warehouse - he'd been using some kind of voice changer there. But he was still the same guy who'd fucked her mercilessly on the floor - the eyes were the same pitiless cold blue. Though to be fair, she'd proposed the deal. He was still looking at her, waiting for her response.

"What happens now?" she asked, hoping that the answer wouldn't be a variation of bend over. She was really sore. She wouldn't mind sucking him off, though. Her terror was starting to wear off, she was surprised to realise. He could have really killed her, and he didn't. They'd made a deal, and he was keeping to his end. She was lost in thought when he answered, and she just caught the word 'bed'. She sighed. Oh well, once more wouldn't kill her. She just wished he would kiss her, to be honest. It just seemed . . . cold, without a kiss. She got up and slid the robe off her shoulders, dropping it on the floor.

"No, no, that's not what I meant!"

She looked at him, surprised - all she could see of him were his eyes, which were filled with shock.

"Just, you need to get some sleep, that's all."

He was holding out the robe, and now she was really suspicious, even as she grabbed it, and pulled it around herself.

"What the hell is going on? We had a deal!"

He glared at her.

"Did you really think I was going to keep you as my sex slave?"

"You didn't have a problem with it at the warehouse!" She was furious now. "Oh, and on the floor of your fucking van!"

He dropped his eyes, and she'd seen right, before. That was shame.

"I was angry at you. And at myself. I kept giving you chances, and you weren't taking them. "

"Why did you give me so many outs?" she asked, curious in spite of herself.

"I wanted you," he answered quietly. "I still do."

She swallowed. She couldn't help an ache between her legs at his words. It turned her on that he wanted her so badly he'd go against all his principles for her. She didn't know what to say. He rubbed his hand over his face, and seemed to be lost for words, too. Then he visibly came to a decision.

"Look. Get some rest, ok. We'll talk in the morning."

She opened her mouth to protest and he put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed.

"I have to settle some things . . . the video, the warehouse . . . your old apartment."

Felicity bit her lip, looked away, and wanted to say something. Instead, a jaw-breaking yawn surprised her, and she decided she would go to sleep. She turned and went into the bedroom without another word, and without looking back. Things would be clearer after a good night's sleep. At least she'd be alive, in the morning.