Dylan O'brien Fanfic - Tumblr Posts

1 year ago

My flannel

My Flannel

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

I awoke to an involuntary shiver coursing through my body. Instinctively, I stretched my arm out in search of my boyfriend, Stiles, but he wasn't there. Emitting a disheartened groan, I shifted my focus towards Stiles' side of the bed, only to discover the window agape, permitting the morning sun to cascade within, its brilliance so intense it could potentially blind those who dared to gaze in its direction. Flipping on my back, I rubbed away the remnants of sleep from my eyes before lifting the sheets away from my nearly exposed form. The moment that the fabric was off my body, the wintry breeze made its presence known, caressing my bare arms and legs. I got out of bed, stumbling over towards the window, almost falling down multiple times, but eventually managing to close and lock it.

I looked around the room, seeing my clothes scattered about. Sighing, I made my way to the open closet, rummaging through Stiles' collection of flannels and jackets until I found the one I wanted to wear. I pulled a multi-colored flannel out of his closet, putting it over my shoulders, and buttoning up all the buttons before descending out of his room, making my way down the stairs and into his kitchen.

Immediately upon entering the room, I saw Stiles sitting at the island table, scrolling through his phone. Sneaking up behind him, I wrapped my arms loosely around his neck, before placing multiple kisses from his jaw to his cheek "Morning," he mumbled, leaning back into my arms.

"Hey Sti," I murmured into his neck.

After a few minutes of staying in that position, I reluctantly pulled away, only to perch myself upon his lap moments later. Settling into a crisscrossed posture, I leaned back into his chest. "Am I just a chair to you?" He teased, a laugh accompanying his joke.

"Yes, and my own personal footrest," I retorted, offering a bratty smile before quickly turning away.

"Ouch, I feel so used." He faux- pouted, before dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if it was wounded.

Glancing back at him, I noticed his gaze fixed upon me. However, he wasn't looking at my face; he was looking at what I was wearing. He bit his lip before speaking up. "Is this mine?" He lightly pinched a portion of the fabric, tugging it lightly.

"No, it's mine," I asserted, looking down at my hands.

"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure that belongs to me," he said, trying to bite back a laugh.

My eyes widened at the thought of being caught, as my protectiveness over the flannel intensified. "My shirt," I declared, arms crossed defensively as I turned my head to the side, a pout on my face, as I hoped that Stiles wouldn't make me give his flannel back.

Stiles lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, all while looking me dead in the eyes. "What does that say?" He asked, pointing to his name that was written on the the tag.

"Fine, it's yours," I said, sighing in defeat.

"I like how it looks on you," he pressed a light kiss to my temple, quietly laughing at the way my eyes lit up.

"Does that mean I can keep it?" I asked, offering the widest smile I could muster.

"Absolutely not. But you can wear it whenever you want." He said, his hands settling on my thighs, as he rubbed his hands up and down.

"I'll take it!" I said, grabbing his coffee and drinking out of it before making a face of disgust.

"Ew, what did you put in this?" I questioned, frowning as he laughed at me.

"I didn't put anything in it, it's just coffee," he explained, pointing to the dark liquid in the cup.

"This is disgusting," I said, pouting even more as his laughter persisted.


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