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The gutter

@nightkeepyr / nightkeepyr.tumblr.com

Join me while I attempt to write smutty fanfic....more specifically, Olicity and Smoaking Billionaires...and now, Toliver too (Arrow) smutty fanfic. I also love Marvel...Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans *sigh*. This blog is adult in nature. There will be cursing and NSFW posts.
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nightkeepyr

Wrath (Ira)

Wrath (Ira)

FANDOM: Arrow

PAIRING:  Toliver

CHARACTERS: Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn

RATING: Explicit

PART TWO OF ‘GOT SINNING ON MY MIND’

SUMMARY: Sex.

Seven Sins Style.

Wrath…

That sonofabitch. 

He was gonna fucking kill Oliver. ~~~ Tagging @n4r4nch4 @positivepiper Special Thanks to @lynslogic and @acheaptrickandacheesyoneline

Wrath (Ira)

“Men often make up in wrath what they want in reason.” ~ William. R Alger

The bastard was late.

That was it.

It.

He kept telling himself that as he shot off another text, simultaneously rolling his eyes, and trying to curb the growing niggle when there was still no response five minutes later.

He drained the last of his water, and tossed the empty bottle over the bar, into the recycling bin; ignoring Roy’s raised eyebrow.

He repeated the mantra as he contemplated calling Diggle, or Felicity, both of them, to find out if they knew what the deal was that night, but Felicity still had one more night in Vegas, and Diggle was…somewhere else. The other man hadn’t exactly been in a share deets with the other pain in the ass white boy kinda mood, the last time he’d seen him.

Repeated it again as he keyed in the code to Verdant’s basement, and as the door shut and locked behind him. And again with each step down, willing it to be real, and himself to not freak out.

Until he got to the second last one.

The metal rail rattled beneath his palm as he jerked to a stop. Blood rushed in his ears, loud enough to make Tommy feel as though he was submerged under water. Nothing else in room registered through the haze of sinking…drowning.  Nothing except that fucking navy Henley, jeans, and shoes left in a haphazard pile, and the phone with the flash of unread messages…most of them probably from Tommy. Nothing except the emptiness where Oliver was supposed to be, if not in the actual club.

Reblogging before I get some shut-eye

Avatar

Wrath (Ira)

Wrath (Ira)

FANDOM: Arrow

PAIRING:  Toliver

CHARACTERS: Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn

RATING: Explicit

PART TWO OF ‘GOT SINNING ON MY MIND’

SUMMARY: Sex.

Seven Sins Style.

Wrath…

That sonofabitch. 

He was gonna fucking kill Oliver. ~~~ Tagging @n4r4nch4 @positivepiper Special Thanks to @lynslogic and @acheaptrickandacheesyoneline

Wrath (Ira)

“Men often make up in wrath what they want in reason.” ~ William. R Alger

The bastard was late.

That was it.

It.

He kept telling himself that as he shot off another text, simultaneously rolling his eyes, and trying to curb the growing niggle when there was still no response five minutes later.

He drained the last of his water, and tossed the empty bottle over the bar, into the recycling bin; ignoring Roy’s raised eyebrow.

He repeated the mantra as he contemplated calling Diggle, or Felicity, both of them, to find out if they knew what the deal was that night, but Felicity still had one more night in Vegas, and Diggle was…somewhere else. The other man hadn’t exactly been in a share deets with the other pain in the ass white boy kinda mood, the last time he’d seen him.

Repeated it again as he keyed in the code to Verdant’s basement, and as the door shut and locked behind him. And again with each step down, willing it to be real, and himself to not freak out.

Until he got to the second last one.

The metal rail rattled beneath his palm as he jerked to a stop. Blood rushed in his ears, loud enough to make Tommy feel as though he was submerged under water. Nothing else in room registered through the haze of sinking…drowning.  Nothing except that fucking navy Henley, jeans, and shoes left in a haphazard pile, and the phone with the flash of unread messages…most of them probably from Tommy. Nothing except the emptiness where Oliver was supposed to be, if not in the actual club.

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