shut up oliver .. but thanks


“Alright, so you’re The Canary and you’re Black Canary. What exactly does that leave me with? The Parrot?” You asked sarcastically as the three of you took a quick break after training. 

“That could work, we’ll make your costume red, blue and yellow to fit the name.” Sara said. “You could have a Parrot Squawk, I have the Canary call.” Laurel added. 

“Oh shut up.” You said pushing both of them lightly. “Relax, you’re our little sister, we wouldn’t be good sisters if we didn’t mock you.” Laurel said wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

“Yeah, besides, you’ll have enough time to think of your name after your final test with Oliver.” Sara said as she too wrapped her arm around you. You smiled and wrapped an arm around each of them. “Thanks, I couldn’t do this without the two of you.” You said with a small smile.

Requested by @chelraychicago

Based on the last prompt of this post

Connor lets the door fall closed behind him and leans back against it. The quiet and dark of the apartment is a comfort as he tilts his head back and lets his eyes fall shut. Breathing in, long and deep, he waits for the relief of home to overtake him. This horrible, miserable, wreck of a day is over.

“Hey,” Oliver says warmly from the kitchen, poking his head out from around the fridge. “You’re home.”

“You’re up,” Connor replies, his tone weary. Pushing off the door, he walks over to set the banker’s box of files and his briefcase down on the counter and shrugs out of his coat to throw it over one of the stools. The light from under the microwave casts a small glow in the kitchen but, except for some streetlight spilling in through the drapes, the rest of the apartment is shrouded in darkness. “Thought you were going to bed.” They’d been texting earlier while Connor was stuck at the office and Connor had stopped responding hours ago when he’d told Oliver head to bed and not wait up.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Oliver doesn’t mention that the worry kept him up. The tone of Connor’s texts had seemed off, too tired and broken, and his concern mounted as the hour grew later and later, keeping him awake in their bed. “How’d it go today?”

Connor just shakes his head in defeat and walks over to wrap himself up in Oliver. His arms curl around Oliver’s middle to press their bodies close and his hands grab fistfuls of Oliver’s shirt to cling to. Connor lightly presses his exhausted eyes into the crook of Oliver’s shoulder and nuzzles his face into Oliver’s neck. Oliver’s arms wrap around Connor’s shoulders. One hand going to the back of Connor’s neck to anchor him close while the other lightly runs up and down the line of Connor’s back, gently soothing the tense muscles along his spine. Connor breathes in, long and deep, the wonderful mixture of laundry detergent and soap and Oliver.

After a time, Connor turns his face a little and his lips press against Oliver’s skin, feeling the faint drum of Oliver’s pulse against them. Oliver stops running a hand down Connor’s back to slips it under his suit jacket and tug Connor’s shirt out of his pants. Once the shirt’s free, Oliver presses his palm flat against the small of Connor’s back, drawing them just ever so much closer. Neither action is done with the intent to start something, take things further. It’s just the need, the reassurance, the weight of skin against skin.

Connor isn’t sure how long they stand there, holding each other. Five minutes. Ten. An hour. A day. Something as inconsequential as time doesn’t matter when they are like this. Nothing matters when they’re like this. When they are like this, surrounding and completing each other, they are whole. Safe and beloved and cherished.

“I lost today,” Connor mumbles into Oliver’s skin.

The “I know” goes unspoken. Instead, Oliver simply pulls Connor closer, presses tighter. Turning to kiss to Connor’s temple, Oliver breathes in deep, drawing Connor in, and lets his warm exhale flow out through Connor’s hair and down the line of his neck.

Connor burrows in deeper and clings tighter, finally feeling the weight of the day beginning to ease. This, all of this right here with Oliver’s heart beating sure and strong against his own, this is home.

Dialogue prompt: season 1 or 2 short talk after Diggle calls in sick and Felicity wants to train with Oliver and he finally agrees ;)

Originally posted by smoakgifs

„Hey. Why are you sitting alone in the dark? … And why are you wearing that again?”

That is my training outfit, and I am wearing it again because Diggle wanted to train me today, but then he called in sick ten minutes ago. I actually think it was only a code for a lot of hot sex with Lyla, though. Diggle’s never sick, and even if he is, he would still come here and honestly I think-”


“Sorry. I shut up.”

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