#what do you mean i cant listen on loops locked up in my bedroom all day

[dahldahlbills]

it’s sick and twisted that i have to work on new hozier and movements day

[and-it-freezes-me]

Little Red Lies - Chapter 1

Or, AUgust 2021 Day 10 - Fake Dating

{Next}

Words: 5,439

[Booked tckts yet? virge wants 2 check u still need 2 places 4 reception dinner]

Trash Rat 22:57

[cant w8 2 meet ur new ~date~]

Trash Rat 22:58

Roman stared at the messages for several long seconds, then groaned.

[Of course I booked tickets. Yes I still need the +1 seat.]

Roman 23:04

[cant believe u havent even sent a pic or yk a name]

Trash Rat 23:06

[no shame if ur still </3 ovr remy]

Trash Rat 23:06

[even tho its been 2 yrs now]

Trash Rat 23:07

[Of course I’m over remy. You’ll meet my boyfriend when we get there. He’s shy.]

Roman 23:07

Roman seriously considered throwing his phone across the room and booking a plane ticket to Alaska rather than Manhattan. That way, he wouldn’t have to go to his brother’s wedding and admit that he was most definitely single and most definitely not over his ex boyfriend (of seventeen months - two years was an unfair exaggeration).

[u kno virge h8s not knowing whos coming to his wedding right]

Trash Rat 23:10

[I know, I know, I’ll apologise as soon as we get there. He’ll be first to meet my bf, promise.]

Roman 23:11

[book ur fuckin plane tckts ro, I know u didnt do it yet]

Trash Rat 23:11

Roman threw his phone across the room.

It bounced off of his Heathers poster and landed on his desk, which was covered in scripts, textbooks, empty takeout containers, balled up bits of paper, crumpled drinks cans, and pens, and Roman buried his face in his pillow and groaned.

Ten months ago, Roman’s sister had flown down to Los Angeles, dragged Roman out of bed and announced that he was actually Roman’s brother. Almost sooner than Roman had been able to take this in stride, Virgil had added that he was marrying his boyfriend in December and would Roman mind being one of his groomsmen? While Roman was still reeling from the bombshell that was the fact that their gremlin of an elder brother Remus was Virgil’s best man, Virgil had leaned forward and asked if Roman was doing alright because he couldn’t help but notice that his dorm room resembled ‘the result of an explosive going off in a pigsty’.

Roman had blinked dumbly at him, nodded, and then started pressing for details about Virgil’s wedding. Eventually, his brother had promised that he’d get Patton, his fiance, to call Roman to discuss every detail, from location to napkin frills, and Roman felt that he had managed to avoid the topic of how he was doing.

When he and Remy had first broken up, midway through last July, Roman had gone to pieces. He had spent the end of the summer holiday between his first and second years locked in his room and listening to the same few songs on loop until Virgil, who was three years older and had been packing his things to move into his new apartment, had put his fist through the wall between their rooms. Then Roman had put his headphones on. It wasn’t Virgil’s fault that he was too uncivilised to appreciate the wonders of ‘Michael In The Bathroom’, ‘Someone You Loved’, or ‘Impossible’, after all.

Then Roman had gone back to university, where he had tried to drown himself in reading for his degree, and instead ended up sleeping through lectures after all-night crying sessions. He had tried to submerge himself in his essays and instead ended up daydreaming about his ex-boyfriend in study sessions. He had tried to get involved in theatre productions, but every audition had gone sour, and he often ended up thinking about the few times he and Remy had met up over the previous year rather than learning his lines.

Everyone had said that long distance relationships would be hard, but Roman, the romantic fool that he was, had insisted that they could do it.

They couldn’t.

Eight months ago, nine months after the two of them had broken up, two months after Virgil had announced his wedding plans, Remus and his partner had flown into Los Angeles and tried to stage an intervention. This had involved Remus trying to seduce the campus security guard and almost getting reported to the police (Roman had always insisted that his mustache only made him look sketchy), followed by Janus sneaking past the pair of them and into the building. Remus had somehow managed to join him moments later, and the two of them had somehow made their way up to Roman’s floor without alerting anyone else of their presence.

Roman had been woken by a furious hammering at his bedroom door at a little after four in the morning, and had to wade through a mess of papers and laundry to find that the two of them had knocked on every single door on his corridor, unable to remember which was his. He had not been popular with his dormmates the next day.

Their intervention had involved sitting on Roman’s bed and sharing the leftover pizza that had been on Roman’s desk for the last three days, and telling him to wash the dirty clothes all over his floor. Then they had tried to persuade him to accompany them to a bar to hook him up with somebody, and Roman had quickly concluded that the pair was somewhat drunk.

He had vehemently refused, and when Janus had eventually rolled onto his back, dark hair dangling off the edge of the bed and onto the sticky patch of carpet that Roman had spilled soda on three weeks ago, he practically whined that Roman was being very difficult when all they were doing was trying to help him.

“Trying to help me? You’ve disturbed the people I live with at fuck-o’clock in the morning! I have class tomorrow!” Roman was sat at his desk chair, trying very hard to ignore the stack of textbooks he was supposed to have read and hadn’t.

Remus rested a hand on Janus’ hip to stop him from rolling off the bed, and raised a lazy eyebrow at him. “Cut the bullshit, little bro. We all know you haven’t been to class in… How long, Jan?”

“Two months, three weeks, and four days,” Janus sing-songed.

“How the fuck do you know that?” It sounded about right, anyway, and Roman had a feeling that if he denied it this would just take even longer. He spun around in his chair and picked up a pen from his desk. “It’s my business if I don’t go to class.”

“Called my sister. Jannie takes all your classes, you know…” There was the sound of shifting fabric, and when Roman glanced back, Janus was sitting up and tucked under Remus’ arm again, looking very much as though Remus had just placed him there.

“You’re right, Ro. It’s not my business if you’re not going to class.” One of Remus’ hands trailed slowly up and down Janus’ arm, so casually Roman could almost believe that his brother didn’t realise he was doing it. “But it is my business that my little brother isn’t taking care of himself anymore. You haven’t answered my calls since before winter break. You obviously haven’t been eating healthily - this pizza tastes like you fished it out of the garbage, by the way, and I would know - and you look as though you haven’t seen the sunlight since last July.”

The assessment wasn’t quite fair. Roman might have been skipping classes, but it wasn’t as though he had just been lying in his room and wasting away! “I went to the gym last week. And I auditioned for the musical in March. I’m fine, Remus! Can I go to bed now?”

“No! We’re going to a club!”

Janus had nodded enthusiastically at Remus’ words, then rested his head on his partner’s shoulder as Roman shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to go to a club. I want to go to bed. I have class tomorrow.”

“Nope.” Remus’ hand rose to tangle absently in Janus’ hair. “We’re going to a club, and you’re gonna find some hottie to fuck all the yearning for Remy right out of you. Then you’ll feel much better!”

“You’re pulling my ha-”

“Fuck no. We’re not doing that.” Roman pressed his palms into his eyes, then stood up and jerked his door open. “Can you go now?”

“Give me one good reason why you getting laid is a bad thing right now, Ro, and we’ll leave.” Roman had gotten as far as opening his mouth before Remus interrupted. “See? You can’t. You need to move on, man. Clinging to Remy is clearly unh-”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“-ealthy, and- What?”

Maybe it was because it was four in the morning. Maybe it was because Roman hadn’t been sleeping well anyway, and Remus had managed to step on the last of his fraying nerves. Maybe it was just because he wished it was true.

“I have a boyfriend,” Roman repeated, and felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the obvious shock on Janus’ usually impassive face. “Three months. Met just after term started. It’s pretty serious, actually.”

“Bullshit.” Remus looked half impressed.

Now it was irritation that flickered through Roman. Was it really so unbelievable that he could have found somebody else? “It’s not.”

“You fucked yet?”

“Remus…” There was a warning note in Janus’ voice, and Remus sighed.

“None of my business. Got it. Do we get to meet him?”

“He’s shy.”

“Which is another way of saying he doesn’t exist.”

“Asshole. It’s another way of saying that it’s four in the fucking morning and he’s asleep. You’ll meet him at the wedding, anyway - I’m going to ask him to be my plus one when Patton sends out the RSVP date.” The words had been out of his mouth before he had had time to regret them, and Roman had spent the last eight months trying to sidestep questions about his non-existent boyfriend.

He had later found out that Remus and Janus hadn’t really come down to see him. They had gone to Los Angeles to celebrate their two year wedding anniversary and decided they might drop in while in the area. (Just because they had eloped rather than holding a big party, Janus had commented idly, didn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate it).

But now it was December, and Roman was partner-less and running out of excuses. His lie had gotten out of control, and he had ended up asking Patton and Virgil to include his partner in the guest numbers. He had invented dates they had been on for his mother when she had asked, and he insisted that his boyfriend was shy and had practically no internet presence anyway, so knowing his name wouldn’t help anybody.

He could just say that the two of them had broken up and go home alone, of course.

But that would mean disrupting the meticulous wedding seating plan Virgil and Patton had been making for months.

Besides, Roman was fairly certain that nobody in his family really believed in his mystery boyfriend, and failure to produce one after months of insisting that they would meet… Well, he didn’t want to open himself to that sort of ridicule.

Of course, it didn’t look as though he had much choice.

He hadn’t managed to make many friends at college.

In his first year, Roman had spent a lot of time trying to keep on top of his schoolwork and working toward the various theatre productions the school had put on; all of his free time he had spent planning dates for when he and Remy finally visited one another, or else video calling his boyfriend. There simply hadn’t been time to make many friends during that.

His second year… Well, Remus had been right. He had spent most of his time in his room, eating junk food, watching sappy romance films, and missing Remy.

So far, he had spent his third year trying to bring his grades back up to something more respectable… And missing Remy.

He knew it was pathetic. It had been almost a year and a half since they had broken up, and he still missed being able to call someone to talk about nothing at all at two in the morning, missed planning extravagant dates, missed the feel of hands in his hair and lips on his.

At least his floor was cleaner than it had been last year. And he had eaten slightly less fast food this semester than the previous one.

Roman’s phone chimed again. With a frustrated groan, he made his way over to his desk.

[Looking forward to seeing you on Monday!!! <3 <3 <3 !!!]

Pops 23:25

Patton.

[Me too, Padre! I’ll bring some of that fudge from the shop you love!]

Roman 23:26

[eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee <33333333 Can you get some of the currents+salt? Vee loved it last time + I want to surprise him]

Pops 23:26

[Will do. Looking forward to seeing you too!]

Roman 23:27

Patton would probably be the most understanding if Roman decided to come clean about his lying - but Patton was the worst secret keeper Roman had ever met. He and Virgil had been dating for almost three years, and in that time the thin voice actor had managed to spill every single plot twist in every single show he had watched or acted in. Roman had no doubt that Virgil would know that he was bringing home fudge within the next hour. If he admitted to Patton that he had been lying about having a date for the wedding, Roman would get Patton’s kind - if confused - reassurances, and half an hour later he would get the mixture of mockery and horrible pity that would come with the rest of his family finding out that he still wasn’t over Remy.

Roman let his phone slip through his fingers and land on his desk once more. Three days, and then he’d have to come clean - until then, he could just avoid thinking about it. Collecting the overflowing basket from the corner of the room (he had been putting off doing laundry for a while now), Roman left his room and headed toward the building’s basement laundry room. Term had finished last week and it was almost midnight - he doubted anybody would be down there now. Most people had probably already gone home, or were making the most of the free time to go out rather than spend it doing chores.

The light was off in the basement when he got there, so Roman left it that way as he loaded his clothing into one of the machines.

Moving around in the dark was far more of a Virgil move than a Roman one, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something comforting about the-

“Sweet fucking Shakespeare!” Roman’s hand flew up to cover his eyes as light burst through the small room, quickly followed by the strong smell of coffee.

“Sorry! I was unaware that there would be anybody in here.” As Roman dropped his hand, blinking owlishly in the sudden light, the newcomer made his way over to the machine on the far side of the room from him. “Most people prefer not to fumble around in the dark.”

Remus or Remy would have made some comment about how fumbling around in the dark could be quite fun really. Roman just shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”

He had expected the other man to say something; instead, silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of the powder tray being opened, filled, and closed again.

Roman didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t help it. He had seen the person in the room next to him only twice so far this term, and only knew his name because the mailroom was organised by room number rather than alphabetically, and the name Roman Prince was right next to Logan Ursa.

Logan looked more tired than he had on either of the other times Roman had seen him. There were deep bags under his eyes, the shadows almost deeper than Virgil’s had been at the height of his eyeliner experiments, and the black ponytail that hung halfway to his waist was missing, replaced with what could only be described as a thicket of tangled hair. It looked as though he had been outside even less than Roman had in the past few months: his skin was so pale it seemed to glow under the fluorescent laundry-room lights. There was a steaming mug and a thick book on the lid of the machine beside him, and Roman had the strong feeling that it wasn’t the first coffee Logan had had that evening.

The washing machine Logan had been loading began to rumble, and as the other student straightened up and picked up his book, Roman made himself duck back down to finish his own task.

He’d have to come back to collect his clothing later - Roman suddenly regretted deciding to get this done now, when it meant he would have to return at almost two in the morning, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

“Do you want me to leave the light on?” He was more trying to make conversation than anything else: Logan was perched on one of the machines in the corner, nose already buried in what Roman could now see was a heavy medical textbook.

“Obviously.” 

Yeah, he probably should have guessed that.

-

Logan was still in the laundry room when Roman returned to collect his clothing two hours later. He was still sat on the same machine, although now he was speaking into his phone in what sounded like rapid Italian. (It definitely wasn’t Spanish: Roman was almost fluent in Spanish). (The languages were similar, but although he could guess at a few words, he had no idea what was going on). (Not that he was eavesdropping, of course). Logan’s hair was even messier than it had been before, and out of the corner of his eye Roman caught him jerking his free hand through it once or twice.

Roman pulled his now-warm and dry clothing from the machine and dumped it into his laundry basket, doing his best to ignore the way Logan was practically shouting behind him, but couldn’t stop himself from startling at the wordless, frustrated yell that came from the taller man a few minutes later. He was halfway to the door, but paused and glanced at Logan, who was stuffing his phone angrily into the oversized hoodie he was wearing.

“Everything okay over there?”

“Family stuff,” came the snappish response. Roman watched for a few seconds as Logan knelt in front of his own machine and began jerking clothing from it, folding pants as though he wished he were ripping them to pieces instead, then throwing several dark shirts over his shoulder and stalking over to one of the ironing stations.

“Pretty loud family stuff,” Roman commented, then wondered why he was bothering. It had been clear from his first meeting with Logan that the other student wasn’t there to make friends: Roman had been carrying a large cardboard box into his room the day he had moved in, and bumped into him in the hallway. Logan had looked him up and down, said something like, “Keep the volume down. I’m here to work,” and marched past him as though Roman were no more interesting than a hat stand.

Sure enough, Logan didn’t turn to face him, instead ironing a shirt in a manner that strongly hinted that he wanted to make it beg for mercy. “None of your business family stuff.”

“Are you-”

“None. Of your. Business.” This time, Logan actually did glance over his shoulder, and fixed Roman with a scowl that suggested that if he didn’t drop it, his face was going to be the next thing under the iron.

Roman left quickly. He had done his best to be friendly, and if Logan wasn’t interested, that was his problem. He didn’t seem like the sort of person Roman would really want to be friends with anyway.

Logan’s haggard expression lingered in his mind as he made his way back up to his dorm room and began stuffing his now-clean clothes into his wardrobe. He should probably start packing - his suitcase was sitting open and empty against one wall - but he had plenty of time.

Besides, he was exhausted.

Roman had changed into a pair of sweatpants and gotten into bed by the time he heard the door to the room next to his slam shut. Clearly, Logan was still annoyed by whatever ‘family stuff’ had had him first yelling into his phone and then taking his frustration out on his laundry and somebody trying to be friendly.

How long could Logan hold a grudge? Was he the kind of person who would calm down after a couple of hours of sleep, or would whatever he had been arguing about be hanging over him for the next week or so? That would make the winter break uncomfortable…

Or maybe he wasn’t going home. He had looked pretty invested in the textbook he had been studying earlier, despite it being almost midnight and no longer termtime. Maybe Logan was going to stay in the dorms over the winter break and use the hours without lectures for private study.

That sounded like a lonely way to spend the next three weeks.

The idea struck Roman suddenly, and he sat bolt upright in bed, the kind of elation that only comes with golden inspiration coursing through him. He would persuade Logan to come back home with him for the holidays! If Janus took it to mind to ask Janine about him, she’d be able to verify that Logan didn’t socialise much; all he would have to do would be show up briefly for the wedding, and he could spend the remainder of the holiday studying all he wanted, away from ‘family stuff’!

He would ask Logan the following morning, and when he agreed, Roman would book the plane tickets home - he’d pay, of course. Or rather, he’d use the money his mother had sent him so that he could bring his fictional boyfriend home. Either way, Logan wouldn’t have to spend any money himself!

Laying back down, Roman pulled his thin blanket back up to his neck and rolled onto his side, satisfaction warming him more thoroughly than any hot drink could.

This was the best idea he’d ever had.

-

“That is the worst idea I have ever heard.” Logan glanced into the hallway over Roman’s shoulder as though expecting an audience for a practical joke. “I cannot believe you have wasted my time listening to you.”

“Is… That a maybe?” Roman tilted his head and gave Logan his best puppy eyes.

Alas, Logan’s heart must have been made of stone. “No.” He made to slam the door.

Well, Roman couldn’t have that. It had been difficult enough to get Logan to even open the door in the first place, and harder still to get him to listen beyond the initial “I need you to do me a huge favour, okay, but it works out for you too.” In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have led with that. But then he had explained, and for some reason Logan was still trying to close the door on him.

“Ow!”

“That was entirely your fault.”

“You just slammed the door on my foot!”

“You did put your foot there after I had begun closing the door. My point stands.”

Technically, Logan was correct, but Roman wasn’t there to quibble over technicalities. “You got the part where I’d pay for your flights, right? All you have to do is show up for one day in something resembling formalwear, and in return you get rent free accommodation and food all holiday! Plus company!”

“I have too much to do to pretend to be your boyfriend for three weeks for no reason. Find somebody else.” Logan made to close the door again, and this time Roman caught it with his hand.

“There is nobody else!” Roman was aware that he was beginning to sound desperate. “You’re like, the only person I know!”

“That sounds like your personal problem, not mine.” Several strands of hair had fallen from the impressive tangle around Logan’s ears and into his face, and he blew them out of the way. His breath smelled like coffee - bitter coffee. Roman wrinkled his nose. “Let go of my door.”

“Come on, Logan! What else are you going to be doing this holiday?”

“Studying! I have exams to pass!”

“You can study at my place. You won’t have to pay holiday rent there!”

“I won’t have to pay holiday rent if I go to my mom’s place, either! Let go of my door!”

Roman finally pulled his aching foot out of the way, but didn’t remove his hand from the wood. “You don’t want to go back to your mom’s place, though, do you? The phonecall -”

The glare that Logan sent him could have frozen the insides of a volcano, and his voice was suddenly cold enough to make Roman shiver. “Good day, Roman.” This time, Roman jerked his hand out of the way, and the door snapped shut in his face.

Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to use Logan’s ‘family stuff’ against him. He made a note of that for future reference, then hammered against the door again.

“Please, Logan!”

Silence.

“I’ll be forever in your debt!”

More silence. Maybe Logan would prefer something a little more extravagant?

“I’ll sing of your virtues from the rooftop every night for the rest of the year!”

Nothing.

Okay, maybe that had been a little much. Logan had made it clear that he was there to work and didn’t want to be disturbed in his caffeine fueled study crusades, so something excessive was possibly the wrong way to persuade him to do this.

Oh-

“I’ll pay for your coffee for the rest of the year?”

Roman held his breath and waited.

And waited.

Just when he thought that he had been wrong and that Logan really wasn’t going to be persuaded, the door opened the tiniest of amounts. Logan was still frowning at him, but some of the ice was gone from his expression.

“That’s your dealbreaker? Coffee?”

“I drink a lot of coffee.” A slight deepening in the crease between Logan’s eyes told Roman not to push the subject. “You need a date to a wedding. In return, you pay for my flight there and back, provide accommodation for the duration of the winter vacation, and keep me supplied with coffee for the rest of the year.”

“Well, a wedding, the reception, any pre-wedding parties, and keeping up the act while we’re around other people,” Roman corrected, counting on his fingers. From the irritated twitch of Logan’s left eye, he got the feeling that he hadn’t mentioned the reception or the potential stag night in his initial pitch.

“Blue Moon or Red Planet.”

“What?”

“The coffee. I like Blue Moon or Red Planet coffee. They’re more expensive, so I don’t expect them every time - maybe a ratio of three regular jars to one nice jar.”

Roman blinked. “Uh… Okay.”

Logan nodded once. More hair fell over his eyes. “I’ll draw up a schedule and provide you with estimated projections of my coffee habits for the rest of the year so you can budget accordingly. When do we leave?”

“Um… Monday.” Still reeling from Logan’s sudden and complete 180, Roman cast around for something to say, but the long haired man got there first.

“Monday. That gives us approximately two and a half days to draw boundaries and fabricate enough pictures and stories to give our deceit credibility.” Logan closed his eyes, and Roman realised that he was staring again. He hadn’t expected the other to take this in stride so quickly. “Given that I have work to finish today and you will likely need several hours on Sunday evening to pack… Have you told your family how long we have been romantically involved?”

“Uh, since January. But I told them you were shy, so we don’t have to have any pictures or anything - we can say that all our dates were just pizza and Netflix, and…” He tailed off at the incredulous look on Logan’s face. “What?”

“You expect them to believe that we have been dating for eleven months and you haven’t taken a single photo? Roman, I have listened to you belting the lyrics of more break-up songs than I care to count.” Roman shrugged, and Logan rolled his eyes. “You are quite clearly a romantic. Had we really been dating, the number of pictures you would have taken on whatever extravagance you planned for our six-month anniversary alone would be infinitesimal.”

He had a point.

Roman had already stretched his family’s belief in him to breaking point (and probably well past it) by refusing to share even the smallest thing about his ‘boyfriend’ over the past eleven months; if he didn’t get home on Monday with at least a couple of dozen photos to share, their charade would be over before it could ever really begin. “Right. You’re right. We’ll need to spend the weekend planning, doing a photoshoot - it’ll be fun!”

“You,” Logan started, already retreating, “obviously have a different definition of that word than I do. Eight thirty tomorrow morning, The Roost. Bring a notepad, your phone, and a couple of changes of clothing suitable for various weather conditions.”

“Eight thirty? A prince needs his beauty-”

“Eight thirty. We are going to do this properly.”

Roman’s phone was in his hand barely seconds after Logan’s door had closed (albeit more gently than before).

Groupchat: Princes and Co.

[Can’t wait for you to meet logan!]

Roman 09:58

[a name!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[we have a name!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[such a nice name! can’t wait either, ro!]

Pops 10:01

[About time! I’ve been stalling on the place settings for weeks waiting for this name]

Emo Nightmare 10:02

[Was about to fly out to LA to strangle it out of you]

Emo Nightmare 10:04

[he was. i had to physically restrain him from doing so yesterday]

Padre 10:04

[bet u both enjoyed that ;);););););)]

Trash Rat 10:04

Several people are typing…

[Suck a dick, Remus]

Emo Nightmare 10:05

[we did, actually]

Pops 10:05

[would but janjans at work :((]

Trash Rat 10:06

[Didn’t want to know, didn’t need to know.]

Roman 10:06

[Pat!]

Emo Nightmare 10:06

[Logan Ursa??? 4th yr medic??? Coffee addict???]

Snake Eyes 10:06

Roman stared at his phone for a second. That was faster than he had expected.

[u knew????? jan u held out on me??? the luv of ur greyspec life???]

Trash Rat 10:07

[You told Janus?! I’m your brother! He’s not even related to you!]

Emo Nightmare 10:07

[No I didn’t tell Janus!]

Roman 10:07

[I’m omniscient.]

Snake Eyes 10:08

[Plus I just asked Jannie for a list of all the Logans you could have associated with.]

Snake Eyes 10:09

[You and your sister scare me]

Roman 10:11

[He has surprisingly little internet presence.]

Snake Eyes 10:11

[Told you. He’s shy]

Roman 10:12

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Roman returned to his room and picked up his laptop, this time to actually book the tickets he was supposed to have booked weeks ago. He had no doubt that they would arrive on Monday to discover that his family had already unearthed everything there was to know about his fake boyfriend - should he break that news to Logan before or after they were on the plane? Making the man paranoid might make their weekend photoshoot a lot more difficult.

Their photoshoot! If Logan was really on board, Roman would have to make this as easy as possible for him - and the performance of a lifetime for himself. Given that he was expected to bring a notebook to their meeting tomorrow, they were going to have to do a lot of brainstorming, so he might as well start coming up with ideas now. He already had a few as he grabbed a notepad from the mess on the floor and started hunting for a pencil.

No matter what his fake date said, this weekend was going to be a lot of fun.

[whumpingcrow]

Pt.21 "The 'Welcome Home' Committee"

CW: nightmares/PTSD/flashbacks, dehumanizing language/themes, collar mention, aftermath of emotional abuse/gaslighting, tourettes/ticcing, self deprecating whumpee, drugs/alcohol (explicit), discussion of past noncon/dubcon, whumpee expecting noncon/dubcon, injury/blood mention, brief sensory deprivation mention, food mention (let me know if I missed anything!)

Tyson was holding Elias close against him in their shared bed, mind almost entirely occupied with the thought of how happy he was that Elias was home safe. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like he was enjoying the way Tyson was stroking down his back gently, his body arching into the touch. Tyson watched with interest, trying to tell if he was aware of his reaction, if he was asleep. It didn't matter, he decided, he had his Elias in his arms, twitching and stirring and alive, so it didn't matter if he was awake and aware or not. Tyson was observing him closely for any signs of a nightmare just in case he was asleep, but the last time he saw him have one it wasn't evident until he woke up, gasping and searching the dark for a threat, so he was sure he wouldn't be able to tell until it was too late. When he wasn't keeping a watchful eye on Elias, he shifted his focus between the bedroom door and the window, paying extra close attention to any car or person that passed by.

Tyson was ready this time, the doors were locked and the hall light was on, he had a baseball bat hung up on the door. Elias had to feel safe, he would show him that it was ok to be home, that Tyson really wasn't going to let anything bad happen to him, not again.

Still, even with all of the new safety precautions, it wasn't too long after the sun started to rise that Elias bolted out of Tyson's arms and out of bed, his shoulders hitting the wall hard as he stumbled into the corner.

"No! No, no, no! Please God, please!" He cried, arms wrapped around his shaking body as he slowly slid down to the floor, anguished sobs retching him forward. "I'll be g-good! I'll be good!"

"Elias!" Tyson rushed, hopping out of bed and approaching him carefully. "It's ok, you're ok!"

"I told them no! P-please, don't h-hurt me please!!" He had his eyes squeezed shut, arms pulling his legs to his chest to protect his body. Tyson watched him flinch away from injuring hands that were only there in his imagination. Tyson hadn't even tried to touch him yet. "I swear I'll be better!"

"Baby, listen to me," he tried, dropping his voice low to try and counteract Elias's hysteria, "it's me, it's Tyson. No one's gonna hurt you."

Elias shook his head furiously, ducking away further into the corner. He was sobbing and begging incoherently now, his panic manifesting into cries of "please, please d-dont, I'm so sorry, please!" and the like.

Tyson had an idea of what to say to try and calm Elias, but even thinking the words made him bitter. When Allen had first gotten back from August, Tyson and Leo had to adopt some of his heinous language in order to keep Allen calm. Tyson remembered how quickly it worked, how it could make Allen drop his hysteria in only moments. They used it only when they had exhausted all other options, because both Leo and Tyson were upset at how much it felt like speaking to a dog. But it was different with Elias, Tyson couldn't encourage him to stay in the same mindset he'd been forced into, so he wouldn't use the same language August used, he refused to. He tried again, in his own way. "Eli, everything's ok. Look at me, please."

"I c-c-cant!" He sobbed again, thrown back into hysterics. "I won't, August! I'll be good!"

Tyson wanted to put a hole through the wall. Fucking August. He broke Elias, he made him unable to sleep through the night, made him too scared to remember Tyson. It was repulsive, to see the aftermath of such a monster on the person he loved. He thought back to Allen, how fast he was able to calm down at those two, dangerously sweet words. But would Elias even react the same? What if it just made it worse? All of those fears and more ran rampant through his head, but he was running out of options, and Elias wasn't calming down, so he really didn't have another choice.

"Angel," he murmured, extending his hand slowly, trying to coax him to open up a bit, "you're alright. You're...you're a good boy, Eli."

It worked like a charm, and Tyson cringed at the effectiveness. Elias relaxed, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward. He looked so scared still, head turned to the side so he wasn't looking at Tyson, inching out of the corner slowly. His ragged breathing was evening out a little at a time. "I...I...?"

"Yeah, there you go. Good." He smiled softly at Elias in the pale blue morning sun, moving to lean against the wall with him. He was relieved when Elias rested his head against his shoulder, sighing deeply as he did. Tyson looped his fingers around his thigh, squeezing gently. "I've got you, darling."

Elias whimpered, ticcing in small twitches against Tyson. "I'm s-sorry." He breathed, muted by his guilt, barely audible.

"No, don't be, Elias. Are you ok now? Are you back with me?"

"I think so." As he spoke, he turned to look up at Tyson, blinking hard to clear the tears from his eyes. "Hm...Ty." He breathed. "My Tyson."

"Yeah. Yeah, love, that's right." He searched Elias's face for a moment, taking in the remnants of fear leftover from his nightmare. "Do you...you wanna talk about it?"

Elias didn't say anything for a long time, looking away from Tyson and instead out the window as he pondered the question. It was windy, the palm trees just outside were swaying against the breeze. He realized that it must've been early morning, and a twinge of guilt for waking Tyson up like that hit him. He didn't know if he wanted to talk about it, about August or the strangers or the pain. But Tyson deserved to know, and he was asking like maybe he wanted to hear what happened. So Elias turned his attention back to Tyson and started talking.

"I don't understand what I did wrong. I don't know why he stopped… pretending to care about me." The weight of the sentence made him feel tired all over again, and he was frightened to be admitting to his confusion. He was an idiot, to not even know what he did to be punished. He knew that it was well deserved, but that's about where the understanding stopped. "I mean...I know I messed up somehow, but I can't remember what I did. He just stopped c-caring."

"You didn't do anything, Eli. It was all him."

"No...Ty, he cared about me, at least a little. He went through all that trouble to...how could I not be good enough for him? What does that say about me?"

"It says that you're too good for a scumbag like that. Maybe he just finally realized that."

Elias froze. He didn't believe it, of course, but the words made something glimmer behind his tears. "Too...too good?"

"Yes, love," Tyson cooed softly, taking his hand, "he knew that people like him don't deserve good people like you. He must've just dropped the facade."

"So who am I...Am I good enough for you? Not too good?" His voice was desperate, borderline hopeful, if Tyson dared to believe that.

"Mhm. You're perfect." He chuckled softly, squeezing his hand ever so gently. "And I want you so badly. Good or not."

Elias finally broke a smile, a genuine, almost carefree, grin as he looked up at Tyson in adoration. He was still shaking, but his breathing was back to normal and he felt more grounded. Usually August would force him to ride out the fear from the nightmares on his own, then punish him later for keeping him awake with his whimpering. "Sorry I woke you up like that." He added it, just for good measure, because Tyson didn't hurt him, he wouldn't, but he was still nervous. He wondered when that would stop.

"You didn't, baby. Besides, it's morning anyway." He stood up, pulling Elias up with him. "Also uh...Allen's been asking about you. If you're ok with it he wanted to come check on you later."

"T...today?" He mumbled, sinking back onto the mattress and watching Tyson pick a shirt out from the closet.

"You can get settled in first, I don't want to overwhelm you-"

Elias could laugh. Settle in, what a joke. Ten months in France made this place he used to call home feel distant and strange, how could he possibly settle in? "Today's fine. I just wanna...wanna wake up and stuff first."

"You sure? You've only been home a day."

"I'm sure," he smiled at him to really sell it, and Tyson nodded approvingly.

Elias washed the dishes as they waited for Allen to show up, Tyson was tidying up in the other room. Supposedly Leo was coming too, and Elias was heavy with fear. He'd be sent away before they got there, surely, given substances to shut him up. Or maybe Tyson would allow Elias to be used, maybe he'd watch.

Elias was afraid at the dreadful excitement he felt at the idea. He was sick to his stomach with anxiety at the possibility of something like that happening, but he couldn't see past the obsessive need to be touched, to be used. He finished the dishes, ducking off to the bathroom to make sure he looked ok. His pale hair curled into small waves in front of his face, it felt unnatural to not find any dried blood in it. His wide eyes and flushed face were still tainted with injuries, but there was nothing he could do about it besides wait for them to heal. Besides, the people who used him usually liked him bruised up anyways, they usually kissed his injuries with patronizing softness or pressed on his bruises to watch him squirm. He fixed his shirt, then realized all at once that he was too sober for this, that he couldn't be used this aware. Couldn't be good. He began to frantically search through the cabinets for anything that might make him feel better, pills or even mouthwash. His eyes fell onto a pill bottle on the top shelf of the mirror, his hands fumbled over it quickly. Tiny, colorful pills spilled into his hands, it was recognizably molly. He didn't know why Tyson had it, but it was August's favorite to give Elias, and so he knew it well. He threw two pills back, chasing them with water from the sink, and then returned the bottle back to its spot. After he started to feel it just a little, he looked back into the mirror and fixed himself up a little more, forcing a smile at his reflection, just to see how it looked. Something was off, he didn't look right, he was worried that if he looked anything less than what he was used to, he would fall apart. The ground dropped from under him just a little when he realized what it was: his bare neck. He needed his collar, people were coming, he had to have it. Fucking stupid, he thought, spent months wishing you could take that thing off and now you suddenly want it again? Stupid fucking idiot.

In one of the drawers he found a silver chain, he inspected the little pendant dangling on the end, at the way the blue jewel in the middle caught the light when he turned it. He almost wanted to put it back, it was too nice for him, but he decided that it was better than nothing. He slipped it over his head, it was loose, but it would work fine. He looked so much better already.

"Elias, you ok in there?" Tyson was asking from the hallway. His voice was tight with anxiety and Elias instantly reached for the door handle and stepped out.

"I'm ok," he smiled at him, his grin lopsided so that his chipped tooth was showing just a little. "I was just getting ready."

Tyson tilted his head at him, smiling softly. "You look nice. How do you feel?"

Elias offered a lighthearted shrug, shuffling forward and standing up on his toes to kiss Tyson's nose softly. "M'ok. I cleaned the kitchen."

"I saw!" He took Elias's hand in his own and pulled him closer. "Thank you, for that. Very helpful."

Elias beamed at the praise, and Tyson was reminded again of Allen, how he lit up like a damn Christmas tree when someone said anything close to a compliment or approval, and it was quickly becoming evident that Elias was going to be the same. It was disgustingly cute how reactive they both were, how their lips twitched into a sick smile, their eyes fluttered helplessly. So beautiful, so tragic. He got this way through horrible mistreatment and brainwashing violence, but he looked so genuinely ecstatic that Tyson wasn't sure if he ever wanted to stop.

"Uh...they're waiting outside. We can let them in when you feel ready."

Elias took a breath, forcing himself to nod. He reminded himself to keep his composure, allow himself to be movable and soft and pretty. He was trembling all over, in excitement or fear he wasn't sure. Tyson rubbed his shoulder gently, still giving him a moment. When Elias finally seemed to come to terms with being around other people, he looked nervous all over again, but this time with a hint of eagerness behind his eyes. Tyson wondered how often he was allowed to see other people when he was with August. He said that August had kept him hidden away, but what exactly did that entail? When Allen was with him, he came back not used to light or sound because August had been keeping him depraved of those luxuries. Elias didn't seem like that though, he just seemed...skittish, too vigilant and too self hating to be around others. He spoke and carried himself like he knew he was less than them, and it bothered him just to be near them. And yet, at the same time, he looked exhilarated at the idea of putting himself into that position at any second. Finally, he looked up at Tyson with a wavering smile and nodded at him to tell him he was ready.

Allen looked way too good, Elias was completely baffled at how healed he seemed, like nothing had ever been wrong with him. How had he been with August and healed, how was he not broken forever? Elias didn't think he would ever be able to get there himself, all of this damage was irreversible, he couldn't imagine himself with a flushed, healthy face and a carefree grin. Or an ability to walk into a room with seemingly no issues or qualms, just existing. How could he do that?

He was also the first person to talk to Elias, which made him a little breathless at how unexpected it was. He stayed far enough away when he waved at him, politely saying "hey, Elias, how are you doing?"

Elias flinched, looking to Tyson for permission to speak, but he was given only a glance, and he was left confused and too scared to answer. Instead he just nodded his head once as a response. He looked down to see his knees were visibly wobbling, he didn't realize he was also squeezing his hands into tight fists at his sides. He couldn't force himself to relax, even though he wanted to, the molly in his system felt like metal in his veins, forcing him rigid and stiff.

Tyson quickly realized that Elias was more overwhelmed than he had hoped for, that all of his promises that he would be ok and he was sure they could come were quickly falling apart. He was standing so straight, like he'd collapse in on himself if he let his muscles relax at all. His legs were shaking with the effort of standing, Tyson wanted to scoop him up and hold him close to his chest, take away the strain of being upright, relieve him in any way he could.

"How are you settling in, pal?" Leo asked him, watching his head drop down instantly as he was addressed. He inched toward Tyson just a little, glancing up at him yet again. This time, Tyson caught his eye and realized what the look was about.

"It's ok," he whispered, rubbing his shoulder gently to reassure him, "it's alright, Eli, you can talk to them."

Elias was thankful for the permission to speak, he wanted to interact with them so bad he was buzzing, he wanted to speak to them and be heard and acknowledged. It had been so long since he'd been around people who understood him, who he could have conversation with. He worried for a split second that he might've forgotten how. "It's different. France is very different."

Leo chuckled at that, nodding his head. "Yeah, I would imagine. It's beautiful though, I hear."

Elias nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, the beach is my favorite."

Tyson was smiling at him, at how eager he was to speak, how even though he had been through hell there, he still found something beautiful in it. Elias had been trapped with August and made to do awful things that Tyson wasn't even sure the extent of yet, and still he had picked out a favorite place.

"Well I hope you didn't get too used to the food there, cause you'll have to deal with my cooking tonight." He smiled teasingly, and once Elias heard Tyson laughing, he realized it was a joke. Someone was joking with him, like an actual person. He smiled brightly at him, shaking his head.

He didn't have a response though, smiling at him seemed to be enough. Leo followed Tyson into the kitchen, leaving Allen and Elias to be alone in the living room. Allen had sat down on the couch, and Elias occasionally looked up from his spot in the center of the room, wondering if he was supposed to follow Ty. It seemed too late now, and besides, he knew in the back of his mind that he belonged here, to be observed as a centerpiece, touched if anyone felt the need for it. He wondered if, he hoped that, Allen felt the need for it. Or anyone at all, really.

"Wanna come sit with me, Elias?" Allen checked suddenly, watching as Elias straightened up to look at him, eyes wide. He quickly nodded before stumbling over to the couch, hesitating a moment before sinking down to the floor on his knees. Allen looked rather bewildered at the motion, his face flushed and mouth parted in surprise. The movement was familiar to Allen (August was consistent, he'd give him that), but it was shocking to see it from this perspective, made him want to push Elias out of the way and take his place. It took him a good thirty seconds to gather his thoughts, and when he did he felt sick to his stomach as he looked into Elias's fearful puppy dog eyes. "Oh...you don't have to..." He started to choke out.

Tyson froze when he came into the living room to see Elias like that, down on his knees with his head bowed pathetically, right in front of a flustered, uneasy looking Allen. They'd only been gone for five minutes, what had caused this? He may have grabbed Elias's shoulders a little too hard when he hoisted him back upright, causing a confused mewl to escape his throat.

"Don't sit down there like that, Eli," he scolded, "you sit on the couch, like everyone else."

"B...but I..." Elias shook his head in weak protest before shutting himself up, cringing at the stern look on Tyson's face. He was frustrated, if they wanted him on the couch why didn't they say so? Why did they want to confuse him so much? Was it to make him fail, make him easier to punish?

Tyson nodded at him once, turning and making his way reluctantly back to the kitchen. Elias huffed to himself, his shoulders drooping sadly.

"Hey," Allen said softly, grabbing his thigh gently, "it's ok. I remember when I got back I didn't use furniture for weeks. Tyson knows better now, he won't let you do that."

Elias looked at the hand on his leg. Thank God, he thought. He smiled softly at Allen, nodding along to his voice. So that was it, then, Tyson wanted him on the couch. He could look pretty on the couch, August sometimes enjoyed that.

"I know Tyson can get a little...upset, sometimes, but he means well. He just gets discouraged when he can't help."

Elias nodded eagerly again, eyes still on Allen's hand on him. Was his hand tight, or was he just imagining it? It was warm, it fit comfortably around him, and Elias found himself leaning against his arm in response to it. "Thank you," he whispered, "you've always been so kind to me."

"Well of course. What you're going through it's...well, kindness is definitely something you could use right now." Allen was smiling at him, in a way that no one had smiled at him in a long time. It was pure and friendly, not malicious or dangerous or full of lust. It was foreign, it made his chest feel hollow and sad. He didn't deserve to be looked at with such fondness. He would have ran and hid, if the smile didn't also make him feel so nice and warm all over. That made him even more upset, he didn't want to like it, not when he wasn't supposed to be receiving it in the first place. That was like enjoying a gift that had someone else's name on it, and he felt guilty for it.

Allen must've noticed his anxiety, and he pulled his hand away slowly, fingers slipping off his leg one at a time. Elias looked away from him entirely. He wanted to be back on the floor, he wanted his collar, he wanted to be hurt or touched, he wanted to be higher than he was. Most of all, he wanted to know what the hell everyone around here was expecting of him. August had rules, and even outside of those rules, Elias had gotten pretty good at reading his body language so he could guess what August wanted from him. Here was so different, he didn't know what was and wasn't allowed, he didn't know what Allen wanted from him when he grabbed his leg, or what Tyson wanted when he randomly left the room without a word to him. It was all so jumbled, made Elias feel so lost. The molly made it easier for Elias to speak, to listen, but he was still miserable and confused.

"What's wrong, Elias?" Allen asked in a hushed voice, like their conversation was ultra secret, like Leo and Tyson weren't allowed to know that it was taking place.

"It's just hard." He whispered back, folding his hands neatly in his lap. "I don't know what anyone wants anymore. When I try to guess I just look fu-fucking stupid. It's confusing."

"Have you tried asking?"

Elias gawked up at him, like the idea was bizarre. "Asking...?"

"Yeah. If you're not sure, just ask." He said this like it was simple, it couldn't go wrong. "Try it, ask me what I want."

Elias blinked at him, clearly bewildered. "Uh...wh-what do you...want?"

Allen smiled at him, nodding approvingly. "Right now, I want to sit on the couch and talk to you, and I also want dinner, but I'm waiting for it to be finished."

"O...oh." Elias breathed, looking back down at his hands. He guessed that was easy enough, the world didn't crumble around him. He couldn't hide his amazement, he couldn't believe Allen could easily say he wanted things, he must've not been taught that it was against the rules. Or maybe it was just something he outgrew, once he was away from August. Elias didn't think he'd ever outgrow it.

"What about you? What do you want?"

The confused, almost mangled, whimper Elias let out was telling enough, Allen wasn't supposed to ask him that. He was only just now realizing that it was ok to ask others that question, he obviously wasn't ready to answer it.

"Oh I don't... I c-cant..." He stammered, shaking his head vigorously. This was a test, one he could pass. He knew better than to say he wanted anything, he'd been proving that since he came back. He remembered when he accidentally begged Tyson to touch him, using the word 'need'. He must've told Allen, and now Allen was trying to get him to slip up again. He wouldn't, he would be good. He could be a mindless pet with no wants or needs.

"It's ok," Allen reassured him, his hand was on his thigh again, this time a little higher, "you don't have to answer. I get it."

Elias was breathless, he couldn't tell if it was from the question or Allen touching him, but he couldn't seem to breathe deep enough. He couldn't have wants, but still, the warm palm on his leg was enough to make him tremble. If he were allowed to want, he would want someone to lay him down and touch him everywhere, make him feel good because he hadn't felt good in so long, stroke his hair, call him 'good pet', call him 'bunny', tell him he was beautiful and perfect. If he were allowed to want, he would want that so bad it would make him cry.

"Shit, Elias, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Allen was rushing. Elias's cheeks were wet with his tears, his face was blank and sheet white. Tyson must've heard the commotion, and it wasn't long before he was in front of him, kneeling down to be at his level.

"Hey, Eli, what's going on, love?" He asked him gently, his hands on his shoulders. They weren't grabbing him as tightly now as when he put him on the couch. "Why are you crying?"

Elias wiped his face, shaking his head quickly. "I'm s-sorry!" He whined. "I don't know I j...just..."

Tyson shook his head dismissively, pulling Elias against his chest and rubbing his back. "It's ok. Everything's ok." Tyson held him close as his shoulders shook, allowing him to tire himself out a little. Once he seemed calm, Tyson pulled away from him, stroking his cheek gently as he did. At some point Allen had gotten up and left them alone in the room together, and Elias couldn't help but feel a little relaxed that he wasn't around to watch him fuck up any more. "You alright?"

Elias nodded, sniffling miserably. "I'm sorry."

"No worries, love. Go ahead and get cleaned up, dinner's done."

Elias obeyed instantly, standing up and heading to the bathroom wordlessly. He looked so rough around the edges, washed out from crying and in desperate need of an actual good nights sleep. He debated skipping dinner and going to lie down instead, but then he remembered how much he ached to talk to everyone, be around them, so he changed his mind. He never again wanted to be alone in a separate room when there were people around, it wasn't ever an enjoyable experience. Once he was decidedly more put together, he joined everyone back in the kitchen, setting himself in a chair between Tyson and Leo, mouth glued shut and eyes focused on the plate of food in front of him.

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.25

a/n: Eyo :) we’re now entering the Shie Hassaikai Arc :]

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 21, part 22, part 22, part 23, part 23.5, part 24

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @colorseeingchick​ @o-dragon05 @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

“Please excuse us.” Deku and Mirio said as they took off their shoes and entered your apartment. The two boys had taken it upon themselves to hand over the document Sir Nighteye had been meaning to give you.

“Make yourselves at home.” You led them to the living room. Whatever remnants of Overhaul’s scent or belongings were long gone by now. True to his word, he left right after breakfast but not without burning toast and eggs for breakfast. He looked pissed as fuck but the picture on your phone was well worth the exploding sofa. “Also, no need to take off your shoes.”

“Thank you so much, (l/n)-san!” Deku said as they took a seat and took in the decoration. Taking note of how many rooms and how clean the place was, he couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel like to support himself.

“I wasn’t able to restock my fridge.” You placed two cans of soda in front of them. Both their eyes sparkling at the free drink. “This is all I can offer for now~”

“This is more than enough, (l/n)-san!” Mirio cheered as he opened the can of soda and chugged it. “Oh! Here’s the files that Sir Nighteye wanted to give you. He also wishes you a speedy recovery. Oh, and he wants to know if you’re fit to attend the heroes meeting the day after tomorrow.”

Accepting the files, you placed the folder beside you and answered the other questions he had thrown. Satisfied with your answer, the boy laughed and tried to say a punchline.

“You sure do have a sense of humor, Lemillion.” Looking at your bedroom door, you couldn’t help but snicker at the thought of Overhaul’s jacket resting on his side of the bed. Hmm, his side of the bed was a strong word and one you were sure you wouldn’t be able to use again. “How’s school, you two?”

“It’s fine. We’re just focusing now on our internships but the others are still attending school.” Deku answered.

“Ah, by the way, are you feeling much better now?” Mirio chimed in. “You seem to be alone.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You shrugged and touched the spot of the closed bullet hole. “Things didn’t exactly turn out as planned but there’s still next time~”

“We received news that Overhaul ended up killing a suspect?”

“Hm? Well, yes he did.” You almost forgot about that. “We still caught one so I guess it isn’t all that bad.”

“How did you get used to your work, (l/n)-san?” Deku inquired.

“I can’t say I’m used to it. I still get chills every now and then but as long as things turn out for the better, it makes it worthwhile. Besides, the injuries we get are nothing compared to what heroes get. We’re merely support.” You smirked. “Pawns for the bigger pieces, if I may say so myself.”

“Hahaha! You say that like heroes aren’t all that, (l/n)-san!” Mirio laughed and held on to his stomach.

“I never implied that.” You looked at the view of your window and back at them. Not holding it back, you sighed. “Listen. Everyone wants to be a hero, I get it. But when life hits you, sometimes ya gotta do what you have to do. My field of work requires me to make a constant string of decisions. I’ve worked for heroes who have red marks on their files. Some even with questionable motives. But it’s also important to take note of those who were not seen in their times of need.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?”

“Barely. The glitz and glamour of being a hero are blinding to those aspiring one’s. Same goes for those who aren’t on the heroes side.” You stood up and the two boy’s followed. “Don’t take this the wrong way kids. Not everyone can be saved. Now, I’m not telling you guys to stop chasing your dreams or shit. I just want you to be aware that the world is unfair. Now go to do your patrols.”

The moment they bid farewell and your locks clicked, you went back to the living room and sat down. Fingers slowly touching the fabric. Every single crease, fold, and dip your sofa had. Finding nothing, you painstakingly began to check each room and vase your unit had to offer. Seeing as things were clear, you decided a small trip to the third floor was necessary.

Grabbing your phone, you went to your bedroom and opened the window. Dialing a number, you waited for the other person to pick up.

“Hurry. I don’t have much time.”

“Chrono. Did you destroy the tracker?”

“I did. 2 days ago.” He paused and lowered his voice. “Why?”

“Nothing. How did you dispose of it?”

“Used some equipment we have here.”

“Thanks. Go do your shit.” Hearing a chuckle, you ended the call and closed the windows.

It didn’t take too long but now you were inside the elevator. The faint sound of elevator music keeping you company as the buttons lit up. Once you arrived on the third floor, you walked down the hallway and took a detour to one of the off limit doors.

Knocking 5 times, the door opened.

“Why hello to you, (y/n)~”

“Same goes for you, Roshi-san~” You tilted your head and gave him a peace sign. “Busy?”

“Not at all. Come in, come in! Shall I prepare your throne, princess?”

“And rid you of yours? I just wanna check something.” Taking a Y1000 from your pocket, Roshi took it with a wink and stuffed it into his.

Watching his fingers tapping on the keyboard, a window popped up indicating that a bunch of videos were being transported into a folder. As that was happening, he took a flash drive and connected it. With a few more taps and clicks, he turned around and faced you.

“Paranoid, princess?”

“Not much. Just have to make sure, you know?”

“This about Overhaul?” The bluish twinkle in his eyes made you laugh. “Bingo~ Don’t worry boo, I’ve deleted and looped each and every footage that showed him he even entered within a 100m radius.”

“Remind me why you prefer to work here and not back at the house?”

Roshi Matsui. One of your father’s most trusted members. It had been a few years since he decided to leave the compound and take up a job that made use of his quirk. Though admittedly, he was also one of the reasons why your father chose the apartment building. He felt safe enough to entrust his only daughter to this member.

“I get bored easily.” Facing the screen once more, he tapped away and ejected the flash drive. “Everything you need is in here, princess. You’re in for a wild ride.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Shall I continue with your request?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright~ Have a great day~ OH send my kisses to Geiby-boo.” Right. You keep forgetting that these two were related. Cousins. Giving him the response he wanted, he stood up to open the doors for you. Just as you were about to step outside, Roshi grabbed your arm and smirked. “Not that I care what you do, (n/n)... be sure to check your doors. Aight?”

“I will~”

With hurried steps, you reached the elevator and clicked on your floor. Roshi usually kept an eye on your floor but it was never really needed before. That sudden warning was nothing but bad news as each button lit up. Using your quirk to calm yourself, you stepped out and made your way to your room.

Taking your keys from your pocket, it slipped and jingled its way to the floor. Kneeling to pick it up, you examined the corner pads, sweep, and sill. Seeing nothing, you grabbed your keys and stretched. Eyes scanning the header and the jam. It was still clear of any shiny objects.

Not satisfied with the results, you entered your room and locked your door. Inspecting it from within was much less confining. Yet, there were no indications that your place had been bugged.

“Unless…” Of all the things you barely checked, it would have to be the peephole. “Ah shit.”

True enough, the peephole was blocked and you were met with a tiny lens that seemed to be adjusting its aperture. Heading to where you kept your toolbox, you uttered a string of curses. The want to watch the CCTV footage grew stronger but first things first.

It took awhile but you got the job done. Careful that the small camera wasn’t damaged, you managed to pull it out. The tiny dot of green light indicated that it was still recording. Covering the new whole with some electrical tape, you went to the kitchen and reached for two bowls. Caging the device with the two bowls, you placed it in the fridge to ensure you were safe.

Now in your bedroom, you dialled his number.

“What is it, (y/n)?”

“I don’t like being bugged, Chisaki.”

“And why would I do that? You already pester me with phone AND video calls. I see no need to do that.” There was a pause in the line. “Though, I would be a hypocrite if I wouldn’t admit to the thought of actually doing it.”

“I don’t like liars.”

“Would I ever lie to you?” There was a teasing tone to his voice.

“You might~ I can never guess you right.” If it wasn’t him then who would? “That’s all for now, birdman. W-will you call me later?”

“If my schedule permits it, then I shall.”

“Such a tease…”

“I can do more than teasing, (y/n).”

“Oh shut it.” Ending the call, you resisted the urge to squeal.

Rubbing your face, you groaned and sunk into the sofa, your body feeling tired after all the moving you had done today. Perhaps you weren’t fully healed yet. Dialing another number, you waited for the other person to pick up.

“Nao?”

“Ah. (y/n). You okay now?”

“Not fully but I can head to work tomorrow. Are things alright there? How’s the report for the raid?”

“It’s still in the drafts but it shouldn’t be too hard for you to pick up.”

“Email it to me. I can start working on it now.”

“Sure.” He paused. “How’re things with Rusai?”

“Who?”

“Your caretaker?”

Oh. He was given an alias. Something you didn’t know. Then again, you didn’t bother as to how he even became your ‘legal guardian’ during those tiring times.

“Things were rather interesting to be honest. A bit of a rough 20 minutes when I woke up but other than that, things improved significantly~” You stared at the entryway and bit your tongue. “Deku and Mirio dropped by but he left earlier than planned.”

“Deku and Mirio? Isn’t that…”

“I know. I took care of it. Though, I have a feeling something’s about to happen again.”

“Be careful, (n/n).”

“I will~ Now go do your thing~”

Reaching for your laptop, you unlocked and connected the flash drive. Waiting a few seconds, you opened the folder and grabbed a pillow. Clicking on the first video, upped the speed and began to watch as to who could have possibly planted that bug on your door.

As the hours ticked by and your legs falling asleep alternatively, you took a glance at your windows and realized that the sun was now setting. Stretching your entire body, you could feel the tension being released. Pausing the current video, you groaned and layed down on the sofa. Hair splaying everywhere.

Roshi was right.

It really was indeed a wild ride.

- - - - -

if any of you guys want :) feel free to follow me on twitter for updates regarding this story or my thought process during the making :)

@vicart_ph

[liliah39]

Unforgettable (Roger Taylor x Reader Oneshot)

Warnings: None! Talk of sex, bad words, but really just loads of fluff. 

Word count: 4K 

Plot: This is based off of @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ ‘s request which read “Plz give me bad-ass hard to tie down reader that Roger cant help but chase after cause he likes a challenge” which then inspired me to write this based off of the song Unforgettable by Nat King Cole, so give that a listen while reading. -C

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June, 1975

“Unforgettable, that’s what you are,”

The song played on a loop each time he saw you. 

Each time he thought of you. 

So basically every minute of every day. 

But this time, sitting in the lounge of the bar in the early hours of the morning with his band mates, all of them too exhausted to get up and move from their show just hours before and a couple of days of partying, so the four of them just sat in the cushioned, velvet booth, silently enjoying their drinks. Roger had zoned off when he saw you leave with some guy you’d been talking to all night. 

Again. 

And now he was fantasizing, thinking of that song. 

Your song. 

He knew it was never going to happen; you were always onto the next thing, not an easy one to catch. But still, the thought of it was nice. Made him smile. 

“Roger!” Freddie yelled, snapping a finger in his face as he was reeled back to reality. 

“So… who’s got your mind this time?” Brian teased. 

“Oh shove off guys,” Roger blushed. 

“Who is she?” John egged on. 

“ ‘C’mon, Roger.” Freddie started. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Who’s the lucky lady? There’s a new one every night?” His question send the other two into a spiral of laughter.  

“It’s not like that,” Roger said, attempting to hide his blush. 

“Then what’s it like, mate?” Brian pressed. 

“It’s Y/N, okay?” 

“Again?” 

Roger nodded. 

“God, Rog,” John added, “you bring her up like-“

“Yeah, every week, John. I know.” Roger sighed. 

“Darling, you’ve got to say something soon. Why haven’t you? You’re desirable?” Freddie said. 

“Because It’s Y/N. She’s… untouchable.”

“Um, you’re a rock star, Rog.” Brian said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I know, I know. But she’s rich, her daddy’s got money. She does what she wants, when she wants to.”

“But Darling, we’ve been friends with her since college. The two of you especially.” Freddie smiled. 

“I know.” 

“And she follows us around because you told he she could.” 

“Because she wanted to,” Roger corrected. “And I wanted to see her all the time. But it’s been how long, three months now we’ve seen her go off with a different guy every night? And I’ve been that guy how many times?” 

Silence. 

“Exactly. None. It’s getting exhausting.”

“So, why don’t you just tell her how you feel, Roger? That’s what I did with Veronica, and you’ve got much more confidence than I ever will.” John admitted. 

“I- I can’t. Not when it comes to her.” Roger sighed. “You know what guys, I’m exhausted. I’m gonna go back to my room.” He moped. 

“Hey mate,” Brian said, grabbing his arm as he walked past him. “Just think; just two more weeks until the tour is over. Then you can get out of this funk.” He smiled sympathetically. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Roger boarded the elevator, he couldn’t help but think of you. Think that you were in the same building, on the same floor his room was on. 

It drove him crazy. 

As he walked down the hall to his room, he stopped for a moment, gazing down one door and across the hall to your room, considering knocking; catching you in the middle of the act with the bloke who you’d been seducing all night in efforts to take a hit at your reigning ego, but in retrospect, what would it all be for? To improve his own state of mind?

With a groan of frustration he un-locked his door and stripped to his boxers, shutting off the lights and flopping onto his bed. 

In the darkness, his mind wandered as he found himself too hopelessly enamored with you to fall asleep. He wasn’t one to fall head over heels for someone, it was usually quite the opposite. Girls always fell head over heels for him, all except for one girl. 

You. 

It drove him mad, but some part of him couldn’t get himself to stop chasing you. To stop saying yes to everything you asked for. Maybe he liked the chase, the fact that you didn’t want him made him want you more. 

Or did you want him?

At this point, he wasn’t sure anymore. It was all so confusing. Every morning, Roger woke up to a knock at the door, you, in your 1920’s night robe, coming to give him a back massage. It made every day worth getting out of bed. The ‘20’s robe suited you; you always had given off a sort of modern day flapper vibe, you know, hard to tie down, just looking to have fun, pretty, naive but seductive. All of it. 

The back massages confused Roger, it was like you were his in the morning, but at night you were a free bird, trying to catch another new breath of wind for the night, yet in the mornings you always came back. Maybe that was why he also had so many one night stands, to mimic you. Show that he was just as free willed. Or maybe it was to forget you, to prove to himself that he could move on from you. 

But he never could. 

In all honesty, he hated one night stands. The king of one night stands hated them, all because he only had one girl on his mind. 

His mind couldn’t help but drift to the image of you as he groaned in disbelief of his unfortunate position. There wasn’t one thing he could think of that he disliked about you. He loved your body; had been craving it for years now. Your face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on, your hair like perfectly spun silk, always effortlessly framing your face. He loved the way you dressed, it looked vintage, and classy, yet undoubtedly sexy. You knew what you were doing with your sheer tops and skirts that were custom hemmed almost too short. The only way he could think to describe your style was classy (but not too classy) rocker. 

He glanced at the alarm clock, realizing he’d been fantasizing about you for a full hour without any glimpse of sleep in his near future, so he got out of bed and put on a pair of pants and decided to go for a walk. 

When he opened the door to his room, he glanced down the hallway toward yours, realizing the door was left open, immediately worried for your well being, so he rushed over, and didn’t see anyone in the main foyer of your room, so walked in. He walked into the bedroom, mind panicking as he saw no trace of you and noticed there was no light on in the bathroom, until he felt a burst of wind, jumping from the ruffle of the large white curtain which covered the sliding glass door. He turned to the balcony to see your silhouette leaning against the railing in your sheer, 1920’s robe, figure completely illuminated by the moonlight as the wind blew your hair back. He stepped closer, knocking at the glass door to announce his presence, which made you jump in surprise, eyes immediately flicking open. 

“Sorry, Love. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He chuckled, walking on the balcony as you pulled him into a tight embrace. 

You let out a breath of relief that it was just your friend, his sudden appearance knocking you out of your trance like state. “Thank god it’s you,” you smiled. “I was just enjoying the night. Come with me.” You said, grabbing his hand as you pulled him to the edge of the balcony. 

Then, as you turned, he felt something small and hard brush his chest and looked down, the moonlight illuminating your breasts as you turned. You didn’t have anything on underneath your robe. 

Anything. 

Not even panties. 

His breath hitched in his throat; he’d never seen you nude before. You always had a nightgown on when you’d come to his room in the morning. 

“What are you doing up so late, Roger?” You asked as you looked at him. Your words snapped him from his trance as you admired his moonlit beauty. 

“Oh, uh- just couldn’t sleep.” He tried to avoid to keep his hungry eyes off you, yet couldn’t help himself. “Say, why was your door wide open? I shut it behind me.”

“Oh,” you said, letting out an airy laugh. “I was bored. Just wanted to see who’d come in. I didn’t think anyone would, yet sure enough, look who came. Guess I was kind of hoping you would.” You laughed. 

You hoped he would?

“Well, you shouldn’t leave the door open like that, Y/N,” he laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s dangerous, Love. If something happened to you while on tour I think your dad would have my head.” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” You smiled. “I’ll be more careful next time, promise.” you said, creeping on your tip toes to peck a kiss on his cheek, breasts bouncing as you feel back down. 

“You said you hoped it was me, Y/N. Why?” 

“Been wanting to talk to you. You seem like you always have something on your mind, it’s like you don’t want to be around me anymore. What’s up with you?”

Wow, you couldn’t be more wrong, he thought. 

“Oh, course I wanna be around you, Y/N. Think I’m just sad that the tour is ending.” He lied, thankful that it seemed believable. You seemed to accept his answer, but tentatively. You could still tell there was something up with him, but decided not to press; leaving the two of you in silence as you appreciated the beauty of the night. 

“Oh.” You said with a simple pucker of your lips as you shaded your eyes from him. You could tell it was something more. The two of you stayed in silence for a moment. “Then why don’t you look at me? Why do you shy away from me? Avoid me? It’s like you don’t even want to think about me anymore, Roger.”

“Believe me, Y/N, I think about you all the time.” he muttered. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he blushed. 

“No, say what you said again. I’ve gotta make sure I heard you correctly.” 

He let out a breath of air, “I said I think about you all the time, Y/N.”

“Then what’s with you?” 

“What’s with me?” He scoffed. “I’m not the one taking a different guy to my room every night, I think I should be asking you the same question, Love.” 

“That’s what this is about?” His look away from you seemed to confirm your question, so you continued. “I kept going, you know, bringing more and more guys back with me because I thought you didn’t care. Wanted to catch your attention.” You admitted. 

“You what?” 

You nodded your head. “I didn’t even do anything with the guy I left with tonight; most of the time I never actually do. Just make sure you see me leave with someone. ‘Course I’ve had a couple of one night stands throughout the tour, but not nearly as many as you have. Guess I figured I’d just keep leaving with guys until you noticed.” 

“Let me get this straight. You’ve been faking having one night stands every night just to try to get my attention?” 

You nodded with a giggle, “Guess it didn’t work very well.” 

“Why me, Y/N?” 

“I’ve liked you for quite some time now, Rog. Just didn’t know how to tell you, so I guess I tried to make you jealous instead?” You tentatively admitted earning a groan from Roger as he rested his elbows on the railing, fingers brushing through his hair as he hung his head in his hands. 

“You must be joking,” 

You shook your head. 

“Do you realize I’m absolutely fucking mad about you?” 

“You are?!?” 

“Oh my god,” he muttered. “I’ve been avoiding you because I thought you were happy with your one night stands every night and just couldn’t handle it anymore. Now it turns out your one night stands aren’t even one night stands, and I-”

You cut him off with a kiss, shocking him slightly until he ultimately softened into it, the two of you making out on the deck as you each learned of your new found love for one another. 

“It’s about time this happened,” you smiled when you both pulled away for a second. You’d never seen him smiling bigger as he pulled away for a moment. 

“You can say that again,” he smiled back as he brought a hand up to your jaw, his other hand roaming along your body. Your arms settled around his neck as he scooped you into his arms and carried you inside to the bed, your robe falling open. He looked down with a satisfied smile, his eyes looking up at you lovingly. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, Love.”

“Then don’t.” You smiled, connecting your lips with his once more. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the tour came to an end, you and Roger grew closer, his arm subtly sneaking around your waist at the after parties, the two of you gazing across the bar to one another silently signaling you were ready to go back to one of your rooms for the night. There weren’t many nights you didn’t sleep together, but there were some. 

Some that you left with other guys very early in the night, but you’d always come back to the bar and get Roger in a couple hours. It confused him; what did that mean for the two of you? Did that mean that you weren’t exclusive? And what would you do with those guys? What was their purpose? Roger never explicitly asked you; simply just happy that he now could spend time with you romantically, but it confused and slightly upset him nonetheless. 

The week following the conclusion of the tour left the two of you out of contact; Roger assuming that his shot with you was over, until one day an envelope addressed to him with your name on it came to his house. It was an invitation to a Roaring ‘20’s themed party, one he knew would be just as grandiose as those which Freddie threw ever so often. He had a week to decide if he’d be going, and though a part of him wanted to call you immediately and say he’d be there, something held him back. 

Jealousy. 

Jealousy because he thought you were deciding to keep your romantic life open. 

A couple hours later while Roger was still overly contemplating the invitation to your party, he was pleasantly surprised to receive a call from his good friend and band mate Freddie. 

“Hello, Darling.”

“Hi, Fred.”

“What’re you wearing Saturday?” 

Roger stuttered to find an answer to his friends’ abrupt question. 

“You’re going, aren’t you?”

“Well,” he trailed off. 

“Roger,” Freddie scolded, “you must!” 

“But I’m afraid she’s seeing other guys; that we have an open relationship. I just don’t want to put myself through all that again. I’ve been chasing her for too long.” 

“Well you’ll never know if you don’t go, now will you Roger?” 

Roger paused a moment before responding, knowing Freddie was right, but partially just not wanting to admit it. 

“Yeah; I guess so.” 

“That’s my Roger. Now get your fucking confidence up, Darling and get your girl!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though partially due to Freddie’s everlasting perseverance, Roger did end up deciding to go to your party on Friday. All four of Queen’s men arrived in a limo to your mansion together, the party already bustling outdoors, completely assuming the appearance of an authentic Gatsby party. Roger’s suit looked authentic to the time period, only helping to further accentuate his natural beauty. As they all walked in together, they were handed glasses of champagne and ushered into the large ballroom where the party was being hosted, Roger eagerly looking for you, but not being able to locate you in the ever growing sea of people. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You purposely waited to make your debut until all of Queen had gotten to your party, partially so you could have your true, authentic friends to surround yourself with instead of having to make fake conversation with people you only half knew, but you also wanted to be able to make a grand entrance to impress Roger. You’d admit it; you liked to have fun, but in the last week you’d missed Roger being at your side, and decided you were ready to take a step forward in your relationship.  

You looked down at your outfit once more and took a glance in the mirror, slightly adjusting your necklace before sending a butler down to the Jazz band to have them start their music for your introduction. You had a blush pink silk gown custom made just for the event which you paired with a huge, extremely glamorous and 1920’s themed pink feather shawl, pink silk gloves of the same material as your dress, a large diamond ring and a thick diamond collar. You heard the introduction start as you stepped out onto the stairs, grabbing a microphone to talk to your guests as you cascaded down the stairs.   

“Hello everyone! Thank you all so much for coming! I’ve been on tour with the boys, and I missed you all so much that I just had to throw a party!” Everyone cheered. “Now Darlings, Darlings,” you laughed, “all the drinks are on me tonight, so everyone grab a flute of champagne, and let’s get fucking wasted!” You screamed, raising your opposite hand of champagne in the air as everyone hooted and hollered, a DJ taking over the music. 

As you reached the base of the stairs, you felt an arm grab your wrist, turning to find Roger surrounded by his band mates. 

“Hello, boys”! You smiled, pulling them in for a tight embrace. “I’m so glad you all could make it!” The other three made small talk with you, but Roger just stood there awkwardly, still holding onto your wrist as he stumbled to find words to say to you. 

“Did you, um, want to say something, Rog?”

“Oh, yeah,” he stuttered, snapping back to reality and awkwardly removing his hand from your wrist, instead using it to pretend to fix his suit jacket. The your of you looked at him expectantly, Brian shoving him in his shoulder in efforts to push the words out of him. “I, uh, just wanted tell you that you look freat- uh I mean grantastic, uh,” he sighed as he shook his head in disbelief at his awkwardness around you. 

Freddie looked at him in disbelief as Deaky raised his hand to his mouth to try to conceal his laughter. Brian looked between the two of you in efforts of mending his friends dignity a tad. “Y/N,”Brian chuckled, “I think he meant to say you look fantastic, right, Roger?”

Roger nodded in response as he tried to avoid your glistening eyes. 

“Well thanks, Rog.” You smiled. “All of you look fantastic as well. I’ve gotta go say hi to more guests, but I’ll catch up with you guys later.” You winked as you floated off into the sea of people, the three of them glaring at Roger with wide eyes. 

“I know, I know! I can’t believe how much of an idiot I just was either.” He sighed. 

“Darling, you’ve gotta stop with all this insecure bullshit!” Freddie said with a drink of champagne. “Be the Roger Taylor you are in the magazines, the Roger Taylor you are with every single other girl.  She’ll have no chance at resisting you then, Dear.” 

“I must say though,” Deaky added, “I’m usually the awkward one with girls, so seeing you be awkward with a girl is quite rewarding, I must admit.” 

“Oh shove off. Fred, that’s the thing though, I can’t be like I am with other girls with her. I try, and then I make a fool out of myself. You saw what just happened!” 

“Then what is it, Rog?” Brian interjected. “Is she different because she’s the first one you actually had feelings for.” 

“Somethin’ like that. Yeah.” 

“She has feelings for you too, mate. You’ve got this. We’re gonna help, and you’ll have her by the end of the night.” 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

After some slight planning and a couple of beers, the boys split up to unfold their plan. Roger stood at the edge of the bar, concealing a microphone in his jacket as he watched Freddie and Brian talk to you on the other side of the room. John paid the DJ to stop playing for a little bit and requested that the jazz band played a song for Roger to make his move. 

Roger’s song to you. 

As Roger took a deep breath, he saw John wink at him; the band starting the first chord of the introduction to the song, giving him ample time to speak. 

He clicked on the microphone. 

This is it. 

“Y/N, Love,” he said, silencing the crowd. Everyone separated to watch the two of you, creating a clear pathway from him to you as Freddie pushed your forward. “I think I’ve been in love with you for quite some time now, and just can’t shake it, no matter how hard I try. So, I’d like to ask you to share this dance with me, Sweetheart, because ever since I met you all those years ago, this has always been the song that makes me think of you.” The crowd awed as the two of you joined in the center of the floor, the singer starring perfectly on cue. 

“Unforgettable

That's what you are

Unforgettable

Tho' near or far” 

“Roger,” you blushed. “This is so perfect.” 

And it all was, you looked like a dream. He’d never been so awe stricken in his life. 

“It’s true, Love. You’re completely unforgettable.” 

“Like a song of love that clings to me

How the thought of you does things to me

Never before has someone been more

Unforgettable in every way” 

The two of you swept across the dance floor effortlessly; a childlike smile never leaving your faces. Roger softly sang the lyrics in your ear, his strong meaning behind them prevalent. 

“I didn’t know you were such a softie, Roger.” You giggled. 

“Only for you, Love.” 

“I think I like this side of you,” you smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.  

“And forever more, that's how you'll stay

That's why darling it's incredible

That someone so unforgettable

Thinks that I am unforgettable too”

The song slowed to an end as the two of you stopped dancing in the centre of the floor. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, foreheads touching. Roger froze, unsure of how you felt.  

Unsure of what to do next. 

“That song is very true, Rog.” You whispered. 

“Huh?” 

“I think you’re unforgettable, too.” You smiled. 

“So does that mean, you know?” He blushed. 

“That I’m your girlfriend?” 

He nodded. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” you smirked, pressing your lips to his, the kiss passionate, yet full of love.  The crowd roared in cheers for the two of you as Roger dipped you, the two of you giggling. 

“I love you, Rog,” you said as he lifted you back up. 

“I’ve waited to hear you say that for too long.” He sighed, rubbing his nose with yours and making you giggle. 

“Well, now I’m all yours.” You said as you brought your lips to his once more. 

This moment was to be one of many unforgettable ones to come with Roger, and even five years later on your wedding night, you recreated this very moment, dancing to the same exact song, making that unforgettable too. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! This one makes me so soft. I love it. Keep sending in one shot requests! I’ll answer them all! As Always, Please excuse typos. Thanks for reading! -C

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