Chishiya x Reader Oneshots

Fluffy Prompts Part II

["Is this my shirt?" – "You mean our shirt?"]

There is always some truth in clichés. It is a common fact that most women love to wear their boyfriends' clothes, and you are no exception here. And why not, anyway? Chishhiya's hoodies are soft and comfy and keep you much warmer than your own jackets, and his shirts are the best sleep wear you can find. But you don't only like to wear them because they're comfy - it reminds you of Chishiya, and it is a clear statement that you belong to him.

This is one of those days where you spend the evenings on the couch and wait for Chishiya to come home from his late shift. You never know when exactly that will be; sometimes he leaves work on time and on other days it will be long past midnight when you finally hear the keys clank against the door.

After taking a shower, you find the shirt Chishiya had been wearing yesterday, still thrown over the bathtub and smelling like him. There is no sign of sweat or any other bad smell, just Chishiya. And since you don't want to grab some new clothes for the rest of the evening, you simply pull over the shirt and make yourself comfortable on the sofa.

Now that you're cuddled into a blanket, clothed in nothing but Chishiya's shirt, with a hot steaming mug of tea in your hand while your favourite series is running on the TV, you couldn't feel more comfortable except the fact that your boyfriend isn't here with you.

A glance on your phone tells you that it's half past ten, and if you're lucky, Chishiya will be here any minute now. He hasn't been online for a couple of hours, but that's not untypical for him. When he's at work, there is barely time for him to check his phone. At first he tried to write you whenever there was a delay, but at some point he stopped doing that and you stopped asking. You have accepted by now that his job requires him to work longer now and then, and it's just stressful for both of you to give notice whenever it happens.

Your eyes are growing heavy and you're about to fall asleep on the couch when you hear the main door fall shut with a muffled thud. A few moments after, there are footsteps on the stairs and then the jingling of his keys as Chishiya unlocks the apartment door.

Suppressing a lazy yawn, you slowly wrap yourself out of the blanket while you wait for Chishiya to join you on the sofa. It takes a while - placing the keys into the key box, pulling off the shoes, washing his hands - but then he's there, carefully dropping down next to you.

You wrap your arms around him before he can even talk and place a soft kiss onto his lips. Chishiya seems tired, but not overly stressed, and it seems that today has been a good day at work. One of the rare ones.

There's a moment of silence where you wait for him to speak up. You have plenty to tell about your day, but you want to find out if he's in the mood for it or not. But Chishiya doesn't start to rant about something, he doesn't lean back with his eyes closed, which is also a sign that he doesn't want to talk. He simply watches you, smirk on his face, and his hand rests on your upper leg, tucking the seam of the shirt with his thumb.

"Is that my shirt?" he asks with a hint of a laugh in his voice, and you wrap the blanket around both of your shoulders before you lean into his touch. Those are the best evenings, when you'll simply lay on the sofa and cuddle for at least an hour before you'll go to bed.

The question is rhetorical, of course. And it's not the first time you wear something that belongs to him, although he never quite seemed to understand why you do it. You kiss his neck and feel how his body twitches slightly next to you because this is one of his sensitive spots. "You mean our shirt?"

Chishiya snorts, letting his fingers run along behind your ear in revenge and causing you to tilt your head back. "I've heard about this 'what's mine is yours and what's yours is also yours'-thing, but I didn't know my clothes counted as well."