Dylan O'Brien Imagines

Breakfast// Dylan

You just spent the night at Dylan's house. It wasn't the first time, but every time did feel like the first time.

He was still exhausted from last night, if you get what I'm saying, but you were always an early riser. So you decided to make him some breakfast.

You slipped out of bed, pulling his shirt over your body before putting the covers back over him and tiptoeing out the room, shutting the door quietly behind you. You went downstairs, first making you some coffee before placing his pots and pans, grabbing the ingredients out the fridge and starting to mix a pancake batter together.

You made some eggs, toast, grits, pancakes, and bacon. You put it all on a plate and onto a tray and tiptoeing back upstairs.

You kicked open the door with your foot, setting the tray on the table beside the bed.

You moved his hair out of his face, kissing his lips softly as his eyes fluttered open. "Hey Dyl."

He smiles softly, leaning to kiss your lips again. "I have a surprise for you."

You brought the tray over, him sitting up on the bed. "Y/n, you didn't have to do that."

You set the tray on his lap, stealing a piece of bacon. "I wanted to."

"You know," he said, drinking some coffee. "You look really good in my shirt."

You smile down at his grey shirt, that reached the top of your thighs.

He finished his breakfast, pulling you into bed, pressing his lips onto yours.

They tasted a bit like coffee.