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In the basement of Barry and Iris West-Allen and the two falling into a deeper coma state of sleep and with a slight creak in the background of the living room.
The sound of the window lock coming undone as they crept up halfway, the air flowing in left a cooling effect while crawling into the living room, and I stood upward.
Shutting the window as I lock it up, facing my gaze onto the staircase, focusing on the stop before I take a step and begin my movement upward climbing to my destiny.
Landing on the second floor walking over to the door, I turn.The knob is also slowly pushing the door to the side and shut it close nearing the edge of the bed.
My hand lands on his feet; let it trail his foot beginning to play with it tickling it intensely with a giggle and use his toes like a sling shot yanking him by his toe like toys.
My fingers tracing my fingers onto his legs, my eyes shutter closed, imagining Barry Allen is awake at my beck and call.
energy draining into him as I see his inner body.
My chakra mixes with his as his blood gushes up into his head, growing with fiery intent and the power consuming to his core head-to-toe feeling free with a smirk.
His cock perks up, lifting up to the ceiling and standing straight forward, the cum building up in him, filling his cock too full length and blood flow peaks electricity sparking.
Through his legs into his chest pass his waist, where I brush onto his chest, his nipples pop out getting hard, and finally the cock is no longer protected, slipping from his cock.
“Barry! Barry Allen” with soft whistling in his ears.
“I can give you everything you ever dreamed of.” Thumbing his Apple.
“Erotically charged nipples are hard.” The full body pops again for me.
“Babe! “You are consumed by me,” I chant, cupping his chin.
“Admit it! You want me, crave me, and you love me.” Kissing up his Adam's apple and then his chin.
“Mmmmm….fuck,” Barry fails to say with his lips unable to part.
“SAY IT!” Yelling a bit as he is shivering to his core.
“I LOVE YOU.” His nipples ripple, and his cock explodes.
“Address me as Master,” I say, kissing him.
“Yes, Master,” mindlessly replies
“I love you too,” he coos.
“Get off the bed and kneel,” I command.
“Will you join me?” Cupping his chin.
“Will you shift timelines with me?” I say, leaning in to kiss him yet again.
“I will surrender and serve,” he says, pleading with his eyes.
“Rise to your feet.” Immediately he jolts up.
“Channel your lightning into your right hand.” Instructing him as he does.
“Shoot it at the wall.” Without a second thought he aims.
Strikes forming the shape of a hot red door with a golden hue knob attached to it switch, flipping the door open.
One shove forward Barry takes a step into the light as his old timeline slips into erasure and his memories fade.
Attempting to cling onto his own memories, he watches his life flow by him and shadows act them out across the wall; he holds his head in pain.
Oliver Queen’s ego is officially beaten, battered, and bruised after spending a late night fighting with the love of his life, Felicity; to no end, it all went downhill.
She was so pissed at him; her fury had no end. Running away from him, there were no bounds to which he would not go and as she leaves, he takes his cell with one hand the cell cracks the walls.
Hours go by in the form of a parade of phone calls and miles' worth of texts and emails to fill an entire room with not even a single response from her end, and he can’t avoid chasing after her.
He is so tired of the constant bickering they often do in this massive apartment complex he bought and converted into his new premium mansion, which she has never been grateful for.
He storms into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him in a fury, placing his back onto the door, and his eyes are tightly closed; the tears are now like a coffer of water.
Covering his face in mind alter state of mind splitting in deep pain, embarrassing on every level, and everything in his life is a total mess of undying crap that is a never-ending nightmare of terror.
All-consuming, slamming a fist into the air angrily, proceeding to the shower, twisting the knob, the water rains down onto his skin and really hits; he is still wearing his clothes.
Slowly he strips off his clothes in a mindless daze, stepping back into the shower, backing up to the end wall, and soaping his body up in lots of lather.
The soap fizzes up, lathering this body up as he enjoys the wonderful sensation of his skin, and washing it off his body, the heat alone steams up the room and shoots into the air, leaving his nipples intense.
The hot air fills the bathroom, heating his body while he is washing up into a hot and heavy steamy state, covering Oliver up in joy, pain, and dark lust of the pleasure of the night a total slut.
The moonlight shines onto a strange distant figure standing on the edge of a rooftop right across the building, and he is nicely decorated in a tight red leather suit.
A costume scheme worthy of Oliver Queen himself. The one and only Green Arrow, but his eyes grow narrow, and they dart down with unholy-like intentions so familiar to him.
The man slips a bow from his arrow basin into his hands, slithering it into his quiver. He aims it at the window, and dangling it, Oliver barely makes an escape.
The bow is held back, then like a star releasing into the air, going speedily straight into his chest and sending him flying. Into the wall he lies, conked out.
The man vanishes in a bright solar flare; the arrow disappears leaving a strong mark on his back skin and in the form of a thin arrow through his heart as Oliver fails to stop crying.
Oliver cries in pain, forcing his heart to race up in excruciating pounding palpitations settling on his upper chest, and holds his chest, sliding down the wall onto the floor.
His eyes flutter closed, falling deeper into a heavier slump unconsciously, and out of nowhere a figure appears at the bathroom door, picking him up and taking him to a better place.
He woke up in heat; his eyeballs are locked on the ceiling, staring at the strange room, and the lights are on, strobing away, roaring to see an odd lone
figure to speed through the room.
The man in front of his bed is snapping his fingers in the air as the room bursts on, and it is so bright it blinds him, glowing down on him, and he removes his mask.
“Hi Oliver! Missed me?” Barry asks seductively, licking his lips
and touching his nipples.
“Barry, is that you? What the fuck, Barry?” Oliver yells at the rope, causing him to struggle.
“You are hard as fuck, Oliver! Did you like the arrow I sent straight to you?” Barry smirks with a bright smile.
“That was you? Are you an alternate timeline Barry?” Oliver asks, and Barry clicks his finger.
Before another word is uttered into existence passing his mouth, Barry is speeding to the other edge of the bed and crawling toward Oliver.
Lying on top of Oliver, he is into it, kissing him softly and swiftly; he cups his cock, and lightning shoots into his body, spreading through his nerves and his mind. Oliver submits.
Oliver Queen straps himself to a bed as he stares at his alley, or so he thought, from a fucked-up alternate Reality speeding around the bed licking his
lips and snapping his long extended fingers.
A bolt of energy charges Barry, channeling all the way from his head to his toe into his fist arm and wiggling his fingers, launch one into the air, turning his palms upward to the sky.
Along the way, what is seen is a supercharged and enlarged aura glowing up into the sun and shining through his body, then he burns an electrical bolt forming in his hands, and he bends backwards.
He takes a position of an Ancient Greek God-like statue, pointing after a workout, and shoots it into the cool air and an empty black sky, causing an electrical storm worthy of a thunderstorm.
Thunder is heard overhead pronounced sound causing a stir from within Oliver. The chill is reverberating through his old bones, but Oliver cannot resist, nor can he feign.
He cannot move, lost in a sea of mysticism, magic, and beauty of the sole man in the room. Barry motherfucking Allen broke him at last.
As the room spun out of control in a barrel of utter nonsensical drama spinning in Oliver’s mind, his mouth popped open.
His tongue was out, wagging his tongue like a dog.
Barry Allen stares down at his Oliver, the man he owns, who is in a state of magnetic charm, being reprogrammed. His brain is on a new level and is madly
in love with his friend.
A multitude of colors brims with the iris of his eyeballs; pupils change with every spectrum of color, and Oliver falls back flat onto his bed in acknowledging that he fought for naught.
Barry moves closer, kneeling by his bedside, hands lying on his body, spreading over him all his fingers, feeling everything up that this man has been built for him.
Barry grabs Oliver hopping on to his lap, he does a sexy lap dance, and the power of the speed force rubbing through his veins empowers Barry the room and Oliver’s weakness.
“Typical Oliver Queen, still an asshole, refusing to let go… I know you are in pain.” Barry chides him.
“You have no idea about what I have been through. Not really.” wrapping his arms on his chest.
“Try seeing your mother murdered right in front of you.”Barry’s eyes narrowed, backing up.
“Oh! “No, you did not.” Oliver’s rage rumbles on.
“I let go, Oliver; I am free.” Barry stands.
“No more rules.” Barry wiggles his finger.
“This SPEEDFORCE is my bitch now.” Barry pounds his chest.
“What happened to you?” Oliver questions his expression
fades.
“I sought control, I own it, and I conquered it.” He swings by the bed.
“I faced my fear, and I use it to power me.” Barry points to him mockingly.
“I am aware,” Oliver tries to break through.
“What do you know anyway?”
Oliver scoffs.
“Deep down you never wanted any of these relationships.” Barry teases his nipples.
“You hurt everyone.” Sits on his lap.
“Even me?” Barry pouts.
“Wait…” Holding his hands up.
“Let me speak.” Oliver pushes him back.
“This is my domain.” Barry’s voice rose.
“What of it?” Oliver protests.
“A palace for all Barry Allens” Walking back a bit, the mirror showcases all alternate Barry Allens.
Barry Allen stood up in front of the bed in a bit of exhilaration and the thrill of having the man he longs for at the edge of total submission, as any legit Green Arrow should be.
His body surges in an array of lightning shooting forth, hitting the walls, bouncing
away, and he taps the helmet on his suit as it collapses back, revealing his face.
The suit unzips, shooting back into an electric-powered button removed from his skin; it is a simple attachment that was created by Cisco Roman, his best buddy and Oliver stunned at his transformation.
“Eventually we all end up here.” His arms in the air.
“You had no idea, did you?” Barry crosses his arms.
“The Barry Allen you met all these years is me,” winking at him.
“I am the original timeline, Barry,” tapping his ass.
“We all come here after we die,” wiggling his butt.
“We find peace” throwing a peace symbol aimed at him.
“We find love,” drawing a heart with lightning.
“With whom?” He draws Barry.
“Oh, every hero has a soul Mate, we choose… and I chose you.” Blowing him a
kiss.
“Oooooohhhhh…. I can’t resist it.” Barry leans on the bedpost.
“Now you are more accepting.” Oliver grabbed his shirt collar.
“I can’t fight you,” Barry thinks. Why would he?
“With all my considerations” Placing a finger on his lips.
“You muscled up.” Oliver is in disbelief.
“That body is…” Oliver canno Look aside.
“HOT!” Oliver licks his lips.
“You love what you see,” he backs up.
“You want me, Ollie,” calling him over.
“Touch me,” Oliver gasps.
“The lust,” Oliver’s mouth parts lips sink into his armpit.
“That expression,” Barry replies, teasing him.
“Admit it,” demanded Oliver to surrender.
“Nnnnnnoooo!” Oliver’s power play involves shuffling his feet.
to the side of the bed.
“Yyyyeeeeessss,” Barry propels him, pulling Oliver under him.
“Fine! Go back to crying Barry crosses his face, turning his back and staring at the wall.
“Uuuggghhhh! Fine! I admit it. I love you, Barry, I love our master, and I am at his service.” Oliver kneels on the floor along with Barry when I return.
The end