Arrow Imagines

Peace, Love & Takeout ~ Oliver Queen

Request from ThePaytonMarie

~

The door slams shut behind you, and you let out a groan as you kick off your boots. The mission was a success, but it left you sore and utterly exhausted. You slump against the wall, tilting your head back and closing your eyes for a moment, savoring the quiet of the apartment. It's a stark contrast to the chaos of the night, the silence wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

Oliver steps in after you, his own exhaustion written across his features, but he still manages a smile when he looks at you. "Long night?" he teases gently, his voice low and warm.

You give him a mock glare, though the corner of your mouth twitches up. "The longest."

He chuckles, and it's a sound you've come to love—deep, rich, and soothing. Without another word, he crosses the room and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. You sink into him, feeling the tension start to melt away as he rests his chin on top of your head.

For a moment, you just stand there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten. It's in moments like this that you realize how much you've missed the simple comfort of his embrace, the way he can make you feel safe with just a touch.

"I'm glad we're home," you murmur into his chest, your words muffled by his shirt.

"Me too," he replies softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. "How about we make it a quiet night in? No more missions, no more stress. Just us."

You nod against him, pulling back slightly to look up at his face. "That sounds perfect."

You both settle into the couch, and Oliver pulls out his phone to order takeout. "What do you want? Thai? Italian? Chinese?"

"Chinese," you say without hesitation. "And get the biggest order of dumplings they have."

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Hungry, are we?"

"Starving," you admit, leaning your head back against the couch. "I feel like I haven't eaten in days."

He chuckles, placing the order quickly before tossing his phone aside. "Food's on the way, baby. Now, what about a movie?"

You wrinkle your nose, glancing over at the stack of DVDs you've collected over the years. "Something light," you say. "Nothing too serious."

"How about a comedy?" he suggests, already getting up to sift through the stack. He pulls out a couple of options, holding them up for you to see. "Romantic comedy or action comedy?"

You roll your eyes playfully. "Since when do you watch romantic comedies?"

"Since I met you," he replies smoothly, his lips curling into a grin. He sets the movie in the player, then returns to the couch, pulling you into his side.

You settle against him, your legs draped over his lap as you make yourself comfortable. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, his fingers gently playing with your hair. It's such a small, simple gesture, but it makes your heart swell with affection.

The smell of takeout fills the room as you spread out the containers on the coffee table. You're both digging in, using chopsticks and sharing bites of each other's food, laughter bubbling up between you.

"You have to try this," you say, holding out a dumpling for him. "It's amazing."

He takes a bite, nodding in agreement. "You're right. We should order from this place more often."

You smile, leaning back against the couch as you take another bite. "We should have more nights like this."

Oliver looks over at you, his expression softening. "I'd like that," he says quietly. He sets his chopsticks down, reaching out to take your hand in his. "I know it's not easy, with everything we do. But I want you to know that I appreciate this—us, just being together."

You squeeze his hand, feeling a rush of warmth spread through your chest. "I appreciate it too," you whisper back. "More than you know."

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, and you melt into it, savoring the sweetness of the moment.

The movie plays softly in the background, but neither of you are paying much attention anymore. You're too focused on each other, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets on the couch. You're lying on your side, your head resting on Oliver's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

His fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, and you let out a content sigh, snuggling closer. "This feels nice," you murmur, your voice heavy with drowsiness.

"Yeah?" he asks, his own voice soft and laced with affection.

"Yeah," you say, lifting your head to look up at him. "I could stay like this forever."

He smiles, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Then stay," he whispers, his gaze tender. "I'm not going anywhere."

You lean up, capturing his lips in a slow, sweet kiss. It's the kind of kiss that feels like home—soft, unhurried, and filled with love. When you pull back, you rest your forehead against his, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"I love you," you whisper.

"I love you too," he replies, his voice thick with emotion.

Hours later, the movie has ended, and you're still curled up together on the couch. You're both dozing off when Oliver's stomach growls loudly, breaking the silence.

You lift your head, stifling a laugh. "Hungry again?"

He grins sheepishly. "A little."

You shake your head fondly, getting up and heading to the kitchen. "I'll make us some popcorn."

He follows you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you stand at the stove. "Let me help," he murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You smile, leaning back against him. "You just want an excuse to hug me."

"Is it working?"

"Maybe," you tease, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

The two of you make popcorn together, laughing and teasing each other as you spill kernels all over the counter. When it's finally done, you head back to the couch, settling back into your cozy nest of blankets.

The night stretches on, and you feel your eyelids growing heavier. You're lying on your side again, your head on Oliver's chest, his arm draped over your waist.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, whispering softly, "You should sleep."

"I'm trying," you mumble, nuzzling closer. "But your heartbeat is too loud."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Sorry about that."

You smile, closing your eyes. "Don't be. It's the best sound in the world."

You feel him tighten his hold on you, his fingers tracing circles on your back. "I mean it, you know," he says quietly. "I love you. And I love nights like this."

You lift your head to meet his gaze, your eyes soft with affection. "I love you too, Oliver. More than anything."

He leans down, kissing you gently, and it's the last thing you feel before you drift off to sleep, the warmth of his embrace wrapping around you like a promise.

~

Since I've been back I've been rereading my old pieces and I realized I don't write too much fluff, must of my work has been angst in some way shape or form. I'm not sure this is my strongsuit... Let me know what you think :)