Rent One Shots and Imagines

Roger Davis- Shirt (c)

It had been a long day at work, and even the evening of you cuddled up on the sofa with your boyfriend, Roger, had left you feeling shattered. By the time you had washed your face and brushed your teeth, Roger had already gotten into bed, waiting patiently for you to get ready. He had spent the day in his pyjamas anyway, so he hadn't needed to clean off from the day of work like you did. You lazily walked back into your shared bedroom, barely able to keep your head up, resembling something like a zombie as you headed towards the bed.

You pulled your top over your head, discarding it onto the chair of worn clothes that could still last another day to save you from having to go to the laundromat. Your trousers joined the shirt, whilst your underwear did make their way into the basket, likely to sit there until the end of the week. As you used your foot to push around the dirty clothes, you did your best to ignore the eyes glued to your nude figure. You settled on a t-shirt that was poking out from under the bed, raising it to your nose to give it a sniff to see if you could handle sleeping in it or if it was too far gone. It smelt a little bit, but as you just needed it as a night shirt, you didn't care. You pulled it on and finally looked over to Roger who hadn't looked away from your body yet.

"What are you doing?" He questioned.

"I need something to sleep in, and your shirts are comfy," you grinned, knowing how he felt about them.

"You can't sleep in that," he stated, his voice starting to become hoarse as he did his best to settle his growing desires.

You shot him an innocent smile as you made your way around the bed towards the side that you slept on.

"Y/N," he growled. "That's your final warning."

You tried to ignore it as you went to slip under the covers beside him, but Roger had other ideas. His arms had wrapped around you, pulling you on top of him before you could even get under the sheets.

"You know I can't keep my hands off of you, when you wear my shirts," he smirked, looking you up and down, taking you in with his eyes.

"That sounds like a you problem," you giggled.

Roger flipped you over so that he hovered over the top of him.

"We could make it an us problem," he offered.

"I think we should."

~*~

Written by Charlotte.

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