sanvers oneshots

Clothes.

[Maggie likes to steal Alex's clothes.]
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Is their first long weekend together when she first sees Alex in her Stanford sweater, curled up on top of her comforter, cup of decaf coffee in one hand, a tattered copy of Kafka on the Shore splayed open on her bent knees, glasses on, hair still damp from the shower.

The sight nearly stops Maggie’s heart.

The sweater is frayed at the edges of the sleeves, and Maggie immediately notices that Alex absentmindedly picks at the worn strands as she reads, as she bites on her lower lip when a particular line makes her stop, think, and read it again. She can all but see her doing the same in college, huddled into a quiet corner of the Stanford library, glasses askew and pen between her perfect lips.

Alex can’t find the sweater until the next weekend, when she goes over to Maggie’s place and finds her sprawled on the floor with her little niece, visiting National City, Stanford plastered across Maggie’s chest, the sweater slightly too big for her, the sweater absolutely perfect on her.

She says nothing about it, but makes sure to take plenty of pictures of Maggie and the little girl, making certain her college sweater gracing her girlfriend’s body is visible. She’s never quite felt this perfect before, this loved, this domestic.

She finds the sweater returned to her hamper half a week later, and she says nothing about it, but makes sure to wear it again a couple of times before leaving it at Maggie’s place, full of her scent and the anticipation of seeing Maggie in it again.

Her blue flannel is next to slip into Maggie’s joint custody. She finds it on the floor the morning after tearing it off of Alex’s shoulders the night before, and she slips it on, inhaling deeply, smiling softly.

She wears it over her black bra and boy shorts, not bothering to button it as she rummages through Alex’s kitchen, making omelettes and pancakes and coffee and squeezing out fresh orange juice.

When she pads out of the bedroom with bleary eyes and a contented smile, the sight of Maggie in her kitchen, in her unbuttoned flannel, her hair tied up on top of her head and humming softly about falling in love, Alex’s heart nearly stops.

From then on, she only ever wears that flannel to give it back to Maggie.

They say nothing about their little clothing arrangement, but they both absolutely love it.

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Guys, obv this story isn't only about humor, it can be about fluff too.

-Mags