occultstarr

Latest Posts by occultstarr

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕣, ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 - ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 6

His right hand had yellow nicotine stains from years of smoking and calluses on most all of his fingers from playing bass. What had you expected? Soft, warm hands of a model? He had short nails that he had chewed down to the skin because he couldn't stand them messing with the strings of his guitar. It made sense, but still his hands seemed to age him a bit. People say the eyes are a window to the soul, but Roger's hands gave away something that he had never dared to say out loud: his life was a lonely, drug-fueled wreck. You wanted to judge him and tell him to get a grip, but unfortunately you couldn't speak at that moment because his hands were gripped around an all too familiar piece of paper. 

“Now I have no proof that this has anything to do with me, at least not yet, but based on your reaction, I’m assuming this was something I wasn’t supposed to find?” Roger hummed. His eyes were lit up with a sick excitement as he watched you shift uncomfortably. 

“Wow, a piece of trash. I didn't know you were the trashman now.” You huffed, pretending to be unimpressed despite the heartbeat that was slamming against your ribs.

“Where’s the rest of it?” He was already pushing his way into your hotel room before you could protest.

“Roger, this is my room! Get out!” You did your best to block him from getting any further than the doorway.

“Oh, but don’t you remember how you let yourself into my room? I guess privacy is something the rest of us don't deserve.” His hands were already in your bag and around your notebook before you could stop him.

“ROGER!” Your voice was pleading, almost like a child hiding things from its parents. 

“What’s the matter, Ms. Mason? Am I not supposed to read this? Is there something you're hiding from me? Something you're planning?” He opened the notebook and flipped through the pages that were just notes about your trip, equations you had scribbled down in college, and a few tickets you had glued onto the thin notebook paper. He hardly looked at those entries; the page he was most interested in, he knew, was in shreds at the bottom of your bag.

“Roger, if you don't stop, I'll tell Nick.” Roger looked up and smiled as he leaned against the wall. 

“He won’t do a thing, sweetheart. I’m not hurting you, and besides, your brother wouldn’t risk his job in the band for some whiny little girl.” He was right, unfortunately. Nick had it made as the drummer of Pink Floyd, and with Syd gone, Roger was slowly becoming the unofficial leader of the band. If he was in here attacking you, then Nick would be upset, but if you ran to him complaining that Roger was going through your stuff, he wouldn't care. Nick was closer to Roger anyway; it was as if they were siblings and you were the outsider.

“Kiss me.” Roger said as he knelt down by your bag and pulled out the paper scraps.

“What?” You hissed.

“Kiss me, prove that you're just some weird little attention whore, and this war will be over with. It's just your ego that's making you act out like this.” You stared at him in shock as he laid the torn-up page on the hotel bed and pieced them together.

"THIS MEANS WAR, ROGER," the page said, though it was all crumpled and dirty. Step 1: ruin his night. Step 2, make him cry. Step 3, kiss him.” You stared down at the page and then shook your head with embarrassment. 

“Fuck you, Roger.” You tried to snatch the papers off the bed, but he just grabbed your wrist.

“It says right here you want to kiss me, though it does also say you want to make me cry, which isn't happening, but I appreciate the effort so much I'll let you have one kiss.” Struggling, you pulled your wrist away and backed away from him. 

“I won't force you to, but either way you lose.” He said softly. You heard his words, and you assumed his tone was meant to soothe you and keep you from telling anyone that he was bothering you, but you were torn by the loud thoughts screaming in your ears. On one hand, you could kiss him and get it over with and admit that you did this to get his attention like some obsessed fan, but on the other hand, if you didn't kiss him, that would be you admitting defeat, and you weren't sure which one was more embarrassing. 

–

Roger fell back onto the grass in a fit of laughter as a rush of light and color consumed him. There was no way to describe the way the drugs made him feel or the places they pulled him to. He felt like he was dying but at the same time as though he was melting with the flow of energy that was all around him. The colors of the field were just light traveling on wavelengths that could lift him off the ground and set him on fire so that he too became one with the light and, furthermore, one with the energy of all existence. It was a heavenly feeling until he began to feel a strange sense of dread. Where had he come from? Where was the god that was supposed to carry him to the afterlife now? Where were the angels and joy, and more importantly, where were his answers? The answers to the universe and all of the torment that it allowed for the sake of the greater good. Where was the being of almighty justice and morality that was supposed to be there to reunite him with his father?

Roger lay there in silence, not just silence on the outside, but silence in his head where the voice of his conscience usually was. He felt paralyzed as he lay on the grass, too afraid to look around without the guidance of his soul. He was blind without the voice that told him to look around and question the world before him, so instead he lay completely still as his mind looked down on him from above. 

“Roger,” it whispered, but not in a sweet way like a mother waking her child from a dream, but like a demon calling to him from the void. “Roger, you have to get up…. You have to go home and hide….you know you're just a coward with a rotting brain.” Roger sat up and looked around; the cold sweat on his face made him want to claw at his skin and pull his organs out just to rinse them off. 

“Roger…… You know you sit at home when you can and let the worms eat you from the inside out…. It’s just a metaphor today… but tomorrow they’ll have your bones licked clean.” Just when it felt like the tension would pull his soul all the way up through the atmosphere, he came crashing back down to reality. Or was what the voice had whispered his reality? 

⫘READ MORE⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 YOU ARE HERE

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕣, ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 - ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 5

Life is an ebb and flow of frustration and pleasure, or at least according to Sigmund Freud. Now Freud was an absolute FREAK, a creep, a weirdo, and a man with an Oedipus complex, but his theories on psychosexual development through childhood were the closest thing Roger had to understanding what went wrong in his formative years. According to the theory, conflicts arise in childhood that require the release of sexual energy, though the term “sexual” is used loosely to describe anything pleasurable. Roger sometimes wondered where in the five stages he had fallen short and why that had been. He felt that he knew that he should naturally be attracted to a woman or at least another person who would be an outlet for the frustration he felt, but he never seemed to be able to fully release that frustration in full. It was almost as if he were too aware, too conscious of his own existence and being, to experience pleasure. He seemed to be reaching the same nihilistic conclusions about love and sex as when he thought about religion. It meant nothing; relationships as a whole were distractions that he didn't buy into because only fools buy pleasure. Had he stopped developing at the phallic stage? It was likely, considering he was raised by his mother. He didn't feel an attraction for her, of course, but it was likely he had developed a bit of his own Oedipus complex, even if it had formed into seeking a mother figure in every girlfriend he’d had. Maybe he hadn’t developed to the genital stage where he would have found attraction to women outside of his mother, and that was why he couldn't seem to find a partner to, in a crude and almost primitive way, release the tension that had been building in him since childhood. 

Roger sat in his living room with his little black leather notebook and a pen, using it to carve the lyrics to his new poem into the pages. It wasn't quite a song yet, but maybe with a few simple chords and another verse, it could be something special. Right now, it was just a few thoughts he had scribbled down late at night when his inner turmoil had gotten too loud to sleep. 

"Mother, do you think they'll drop the bomb? / Mother, do you think they'll like this song? Mother, do you think they'll try to break my balls?"

Roger rubbed his eyes and stared down at the words that seemed to be swimming in his state of exhaustion. The last word looked especially untrustworthy, like a snake that might slither right off the page and out into the world to whisper Roger's deepest secrets into the ears of the people he feared would hear it most. That line would be the serpent in the Garden of Eden that would tell the world the truth and emasculate Roger before his peers. But on the page it stayed, and onto some album it would go as a polished song where everyone would giggle about the word “balls,” and no one would put the pieces together to realize the insecurity Roger felt in his psychosexual development.

-

Your head was starting to hurt from thinking about your brother's friend. Even just saying that made you want to snap out of your growing obsession and just enjoy the trip. Who fucking cared if some English bassist shed a tear or kissed a girl? They did that all the time, and no one lived or died because of it. Rogers' tears weren't the fountain of youth, and his lips weren't the pearly gates, and you could almost bet his dick wasn't the holy grail, so why couldn't you just let it go? 

David sat across from you on the bus next to his wife, Ginger. God, she was gorgeous; her blond curly hair looked like a halo around her sweet cherub face. The two had only married a year prior, but they seemed so happy and far more mature than Roger. You let your mind wander to thoughts of giving up on your stupid crush; he had nothing to offer you, you could be just as successful as he was, and you could find a man who was far sweeter than he could ever hope to be. 

You reached into your bag and pulled out the notebook you had written your “plans” on, carefully ripping the page out and tearing it into four smaller pieces. You weren't going to throw it away here where Roger could find it, so you placed the pieces back into your bag to hopefully be forgotten about. Fuck Roger and this immature hatred between the two of you.

–

If Roger had stayed married to Judy, he would have had a beautiful woman to sit next to him on the bus as it sped to their next destination. He could have had intellectual talks with her about the economy and the weather and all of the other stupid things he used to say to her to sound smart and well-rounded, but in reality, there was so much left unsaid between the two. Still, she was a pretty woman he could wrap his arm around proudly. Unfortunately, those days were gone, and now Roger had to sit next to you since his other bandmates all had wives occupying the other seats on the bus. He didn't want to admit it, but he looked forward to it in a way. He liked it when the bus tilted a bit and he'd have no choice but to lean his thigh closer to yours, or when you'd get up and have to squeeze past him when you wanted to get off the bus and he didn't. Of course, he'd pretend to be unnecessarily annoyed by this and let out some exasperated sigh with a comment about you not being able to fit between the back of the seat and his legs. He also LOVED to manspread just to bother you. 

“Get your leg off of me, Roger; you don't have to air out your balls next to me.” You groaned.

“What? Can't handle the smell of a real man?” He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I never doubted you were a ‘real man,’ but if not, then congrats on your transition.” You softly pushed his thigh away. He almost couldn't respond to your teasing as he relished the way your hand grabbed his leg. You were shorter than him, but because he was 6’3”, most girls were shorter than him. Still, he liked how he towered over you even as he sat next to you. If he wanted to, he could trap you in the seat next to him just by refusing to move his legs. It was a weird thought, probably made weirder by the age gap, but it was almost as if he enjoyed seeing weakness in someone else for a change.

“Move, Roger; this is probably the last time we’re stopping to pee.” You huffed as you pushed on his thigh a little harder. 

“Whatever.” Roger muttered as he moved his legs to let you pass. It was fun teasing you, but it was annoying that you didn't just sit by the walkway if you were always going to be getting up. 

He watched you walk off the bus and out of sight before he grabbed his bag and sat in the seat by the window so that when you came back, there wouldn't be another argument about you being stuck. The sound of fabric shifting against the floor made him look down to see that your bag had been pushed further under the seat. “Shit.” Roger mumbled to himself as he reached for the bag, knowing that when you came back, you'd whine about not being able to reach it. Roger leaned down and reached his hand under the seat, grabbing the bag by its open pouch and pulling it toward him. However, when he finally had it pulled to the bus floor between his feet, he noticed that a small piece of notebook paper had fallen out. He rolled his eyes, thinking you were just keeping trash in your bag, but as he picked the shredded page up, he noticed the words that were written on the back.

“This means… Step 1. Ruin his…” It was just the start of two sentences, so Roger had no idea what the first one was meant to say, but the second one caught his attention. Was it supposed to say ruin his…night? It was almost word for word what he would have hypothetically written in his diary if it hadn't been at home under his drawer; only he would have said “Ruin her night” as part of his plan to get revenge on you. 

Looking down at the scrap paper, he smirked and put it in his bag before sitting yours under the seat next to him as if nothing had happened.

—

Needless to say, you were pissed when you got back to the bus to find Roger sitting in your seat.

“Would you rather sit in my lap, sweet blue?” He whispered so the other boys couldn't hear him. 

“Roger, you’ve got me fucked up, stressed out, and pissed off.” You whispered back as you collapsed onto the seat beside him.

“Aww, you’re just all sorts of discombobulated, aren’t you? I could help with that if you'd like some parts rearranged.” As the words left his mouth, so did his soul.

“Uh, s-shut up.” You shook your head and turned to Ginger to strike up a conversation that would get your mind off your current bus buddy.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Roger thought over and over until the short syllable of the word bled together and made him question the structure of the letters completely. Messed up a platonic relationship with your best friend's younger sister? Just put a good old S-H together and hammer the nail in the coffin with an I-T. 

“What conditioner do you use, Ginger?” Your hair is like a cloud.” You gushed to the left of Roger. Look at you, making friends while he sat here looking stupid as usual. You had been successful in ruining his night if that was your plan, but fuck it, he was going to make you cry and then be there to kiss the tears off your cheeks if it meant he could finally solidify your place as just an annoying little girl who could never dream of being with him.

⫘READ MORE⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 YOU ARE HERE

6 CHAPTER 6

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕣, ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 - ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 4

There was a small leather notebook that was shoved in the back of a drawer sometime in 1976. If you carefully opened the wooden drawer and reached your hand past the backboard of the drawer itself and to the space below where socks usually get stuck in dressers, you might be able to feel the cool leather cover of Roger's notebook. He kept it under the drawer rather than inside of it, a trick he had learned in primary school for hiding money and later cigarettes, but there was no point in hiding the book anyway; he and Judy had been divorced for a year now, and even if anyone else had come to his house, it wasn't like they were going to go searching through his diary. But Roger still kept it hidden under the wood panel of his drawer, just as he had kept it when he was married. He hadn’t known why he’d felt the need to hide such a thing from Judy; she had been with him since his childhood, surely she must have known him better than he knew himself. Still, he hid things from her, more than just the diary; he hid infidelities from her, and that's why she had left him. He couldn't blame her; she was such a sweet woman, not to mention sensitive, which he had liked. When he was finished with the Dark Side of the Moon album, he had played it for her, and she had burst into tears by the end of it. That was 1973, and by 1974, the marriage began to fall apart, and they divorced in 1975. It was like dominoes falling; one year after the other, things were slowly getting worse, and here it was 1976, and Roger was 33 years old with his stupid diary that was tucked away at home. If he had it with him now, he would have flipped past the stained pages full of poems to a clean page, and at the top, he would have written “Mutually assured destruction” across the top. 

Step 1. Ruin her night. Step 2: Make her cry. Step 3: Kiss her.

He blushed a bit at the thought, the “her” in question being Nick's little sister, who, if he was being honest, had grown up a lot since they had first met. She was 18 at the time and still living with Nick's parents. He remembered getting the impression that she was a bit immature and easy to make fun of, which he enjoyed in passing. However, he was getting married that year and was far too old to be interested in his best friend's sister. It had taken her a few years to save enough money for college, so he didn't see her much for a long time until recently, and as much as he hated to admit it, she was not the annoying 18-year-old she once was; she was 25 now, though still easy to pick on like always.

When Nick informed Roger that his sister would be on tour with them for a few months, Roger had to resist the urge to joke about her being a groupie, mostly because it would have made Nick mad, but also because it wasn't right to view her in that way. He shouldn't want her, and he definitely shouldn't want to kiss her, but there was a reason the paper was titled “Mutually Assured Destruction.”

-

It was going to be hard to make Roger cry. What did he have to cry about? The fact that his dad had died? The fact that he had been bullied a bit in school? The fact that he had essentially lost his best friend, Syd? His divorce? He had a lot to cry about, but there was no easy way to figure out how to get him to cry about any of those things. This isn't something you could just say, and he would start bawling, and if you were honest with yourself, this was just a pit stop in your sadistic journey to wear him down mentally anyway. The first step in your plan had been easy, and you had accomplished it mostly by accident. It was easy to ruin a date for Roger because he had ruined a whole marriage on his own, but all of the other sad things in his life had been out of his control, and he had likely already spent years crying over them when no one was around. So maybe instead of tears of sadness, they needed to be tears of pain.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Sorry that this chapter is super short, I just wanted to add a filler so that I don't end up abandoning this storyline again completely, and to add a bit of background and clear up the timeline a bit. I also want to say thank you to the people on here who have enjoyed this story and to the people on Ao3 who kept leaving comments under the first chapter I had made 2 years ago, asking me to continue to work on this. I know it's not benefiting society in any way, but I'm still happy someone is reading this

⫘READ MORE⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 YOU ARE HERE

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 CHAPTER 6

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕣, ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 - ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 3

Roger hardly called you by your name; he avoided referring to you in conversation at all if he could. Your name was like a drop of poison on the tip of a snake's forked tongue. He’d call you Miss Mason when you were being bitchy, and he'd call you Missy when he teased you, but never would he choke up your first name. He only called girls by their first name when he knew he didn't have to remember it any longer than a few days because, in his mind, you only name a dog to tell it what to do. If he met a girl and her name was Helen, he’d call her Helen because that was what got her to act right, to obey him until the fever of lust had broken. Getting too attached to a name and putting it to a pretty face would make him attach that face to a body, and then that body had to have a mind that would want dopamine and commitment and all sorts of other pure things that would burn a devil like him. He didn’t want to love any woman, and to him you weren't a woman; you were just a girl, old enough to be an adult, of course, but calling you a girl was another cemented block in the wall he had built between you and him. He liked it that way, his back to the cold metaphorical wall where he didn't have to acknowledge your maturity or your name or anything to do with your individuality. You were just another brick in the wall of his life, even if your brick was starting to crack.

As he lay on the white sheets of the dark hotel room he could have been angry if he weren’t so drunk and tired. He could have been frustrated with the way his jeans felt strained and the way his face burned with shame, knowing he could ease his discomfort on his own, but then he'd be alone with just his thoughts as usual. 

“Roger…. I just needed to use the phone; I didn't mean to interrupt.” Your weak voice drifted out into the room, but Roger couldn't bring himself to acknowledge that he had heard you or that he had heard the other two apologies you had already offered as you stood in the doorway. He felt his body tense slightly at the childish way you walked over to the bed and sat down on the corner. You were like a hurt dog with your tail between your legs. And that was a perfect example of why Roger refused to call you by your name. You were like that stupid dog Old Yeller. That little boy in the movie had guarded his heart against some mangy dog that he didn't even want at first, and then after a while he began to love the stupid thing, just to have to look into its eyes as he shot it. You were like that in a way, as awful as it may be to compare you to a dog in a western that Roger had seen in the 60s. Still, you followed him around like a puppy, and he shoved you away because he knew if he let himself get too close, he would have to look into your eyes when he inevitably hurt you. 

“Sweet Madame Blue, Gaze at your looking glass. You're not a child anymore, Sweet Madame Blue. The future is all but past.” Roger sang under his breath the next morning; his skull felt like it was full of hot coals that were burning the back of his eyeballs, but he couldn't look miserable now and let you see the toll the night had taken on him. Despite refusing to call you by your actual name, Roger liked to sing “Sweet Madame Blue” by Styx to mess with you and he'd call you “sweet blue” when the other boys weren't around. It was a bit ironic, a British man singing about the dying light of American and blind patriotism, but you knew Roger liked to sing it and tease you with the nickname as a very round about way of calling you a whore. 

“Got your bicentennial panties this morning, sweet blue?” He asked as he drank a cup of coffee in the hotel lobby. You rolled your eyes; you had felt so horrible last night about ruining his rendezvous with the girl he had picked up from the bar, but if anyone was a whore here, it was him. 

“Roger, what does that even mean?” You groaned as you made your own cup of coffee. 

“It means you're a nice young girl with a free and independent spirit who is being corrupted by the various indulgent greeds of society. Or, in simpler terms so you can understand, it means you're a slut.” 

“You used to be creative with your insults, Roger; what happened?” You shake your head with mock disappointment. Roger tried to hide his smirk as he brought the porcelain cup to his lips. 

“You're only mad because you know it's true.” He retorted, and without thinking, you protested with a remark about the girl he had brought to the hotel last night.

“Well, why the fuck were you in my room?” He asked coolly after a long moment of silence.

“I needed to use the phone.” You mumbled as the other band members began to file into the lobby with you. Roger just glared at you, your wide eyes reminding him of that damn rabid dog. If you had known what was good for you, then you wouldn't be messing with him; you wouldn’t be waging this silly “war.” You were a kid with toy soldiers, and Roger was a tyrannical warlord with psychological weapons of mass destruction you couldn't even fathom yet. He had brushed you off as a stupid girl, but now Roger was starting to think of his own ways of getting revenge.

⫘READ MORE⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 YOU ARE HERE

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 CHAPTER 6

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕣, ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 - ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 2

Roger had a bit of an odd fantasy. Over and over again, he’d imagine a young girl walking on the side of the road, her thumb held high in the air as sunbeams beat down on her skin as she hoped someone would stop and save her from the long walk in the summer heat. And he'd be the devil dressed as the good Samaritan who would pull over in his shiny red car with the top down and his arm resting on the back of the passenger seat. It excited him to think he could be there to save a girl like that, and in her desperation, she'd love him. 

Good looks didn't get him girls, nor did a good personality, so he had to resort to the demented schemes in his head. Some would say that made him an asshole, and others would call what he did manipulation. But to Roger, he was just the hero who could pick up a girl and revel in her weakness, and when he got bored, he could take her to the next town and leave her for the next helpless girl he found hitchhiking. But it was only a fantasy; in reality, he was usually shut in his house, with days passing between the words he spoke out loud. Sometimes he'd practice speaking to himself, but he'd always get shy even though he knew no one was around. “Hi, I'm Roger.” He said it in his most charming voice, but then he quickly looked around in embarrassment as though he expected someone to hear him. The truth was that Roger was the insane drug addict that everyone hated. He wasn't the cool guy who could pick up pretty girls, and he wasn't the handsome and wild rockstar he had imagined he could be. He was just Roger, who was always fighting some inner demon rather than taming it and using that festering spite to his advantage. 

If anyone had known about Roger's inner thoughts or, heaven forbid, his deepest secrets, they might be curious to know what Roger's idea of a perfect girl was. Could he put a face to the girl he imagined picking up on the side of the road? He’d only ever closed his eyes and pictured her from behind. Maybe the way she always had her back to him in his mind somehow represented vulnerability. And she was always a younger woman, definitely shorter than him, but that wasn't hard to accomplish. He always pictured her body getting into his car but never her face, and when she lay in bed next to him, he could just feel the way her bare legs brushed against his but not the way her cheeks felt in his hands. It didn't matter anyway; whoever the girl was meant to be, she was disposable to the debonair star that Roger felt he was within his soul, and as he stood in the dark bar, he stared at the back of a woman who could fit his fantasy. She had long blond hair, and she had to have been a foot shorter than him. He took another swig of the vodka he had been cradling all night. It was getting hot, and he hated the way its usual burn was making him uncomfortable rather than relaxing him. He had to go talk to that girl, get her back to the band's hotel, and then tomorrow he could get back on the bus with a horrible hangover while being another notch on that girl's vanity if he was lucky.

One, maybe ten more gulps of alcohol later, Roger slid the bottle against the wooden table and stared at the clear liquid that clung to the bottom of the glass. It was as if that little bit of vodka was avoiding being consumed by Roger, as if his lips were something deadly from which there was no return. Was that what girls thought of him? Was that why no sweet girl ever skipped his way, ready to pour out all of her love and devotion freely? 

Shut the fuck up, Roger.

He stood up and walked over to the blond woman. He couldn't remember her face; he was way too drunk, but she had followed him to the hotel, and she had been there giggling as he fumbled with the lock on his room door. He didn't really feel excited about having her next to him, but fuck, was he mad when he opened the door to see Nick's sister lying on the small couch in his hotel room. She had the cord of the room phone woven around her fingers as she spoke softly into the receiver. God, he could have punched her. She annoyed him enough on the bus, but to have her in his room when he was trying to dive headfirst into some mindless sexual escapade made him want to slap her. 

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” He asked almost calmly. The girl from the bar had stopped her relentless giggling and was now awkwardly fidgeting with her purse. “S-sorry, I'll hic leave now.” The blonde mumbled as she turned to leave. Roger felt the urge to grab the woman's wrist and plead with her to stay, pleading with her to make him feel like the man he imagined he could be in his daydreams. But he just watched as she opened the door and walked away into the night, her back turned to him before he could even get a glimpse of her face.

You sat up fully on the couch and stared up at Roger. He looked defeated, which was the goal, right? It was step number one in your big plan to win the war against Roger. “Ruin his night” had been scrawled across the top of your notebook in angry black ink that smeared and bled on the old pages. It felt so good to write it, but now as you watch Roger walk to the bed and fall over onto the taut white sheets, it makes your chest burn with tension and a guilty feeling that reminds you of a small child getting in trouble. He didn't look comfortable or even endearingly sleepy on the bed; he just looked cold and out of place in the stuffy hotel room. 

You sit the phone back down on the coffee table and stand up slowly as you debate apologizing to the empty lump of a man in the other room. You had expected him to yell at you and call you all sorts of names, but he didn't; instead, he just lay there silently, which somehow echoed louder in your ears than any of his yelling would have.

The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the dimly lit room, half a wall separating you from Roger's unmoving body for what feels like forever. Had you been standing in the doorway for five minutes? Ten? Maybe a hundred years for all you knew. The words “I’m sorry” were stuck in your throat as you watched his chest slowly rise and fall. He was alive at least, drunk and probably angry with the sexual frustration you had dried up just by sitting in the same room as him. You had only gone in there to make a phone call because the line in your room was messed up, but you had succeeded in the first stage of your plan nevertheless, despite it being an accident.

“Roger….” You whispered as you stepped closer. He didn't make a sound, so you reached out a shaky hand to his shoulder. “Roger, I'm sorry, okay?” He still did not stir; you almost felt like kissing his forehead and just getting this whole “war” over with, but there was still one more step in between that you couldn't skip, otherwise you wouldn't be winning the war, you would just be surrendering, and what did it matter if you planned on making Roger cry? He was just an asshole loser anyway, right?

⫘READ MORE⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

1 CHAPTER 1

2 YOU ARE HERE

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 CHAPTER 6

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕣, ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 - ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 1

“I hate you.” The words spilled from your mouth so easily.

“I hate you even more.” Roger sneered. You just rolled your eyes and stared out of the tour bus window.

You were Nick’s sister so you had known Roger for a very long time. And for an equally long time you had hated him. He was like the human form of a pterodactyl, he screeched and had unsettling facial features. Not to mention his shitty personality that made you want to slap him every time he opened his mouth.

Nick had been nice enough to let you come with him on tour for a little while since you were taking a break year from college to travel. But it also meant that you had to spend three months with Roger. And to make it even worse you were forced to sit next to him.

“You love me.” You hadn’t really meant anything by it but as soon as you said it you blushed. Roger glanced at you and shook his head.

“What’s it like being a delusional bitch?” Roger asked just loud enough for you to hear him. You glared at him.

“What’s it like being an insane drug addict who everyone hates?” Okay so that wasn’t your best material but it was hard to be witty when you were flustered.  Roger just laughed and elbowed you in the ribs.

“Ow!” You hissed.

“Oh please, that did not hurt.” You glared at Roger, but then you realized that if you kept giving him the reaction that he wanted then he would just keep bullying you. Instead you just smiled.

“What is your problem? You look like a fucking psychopath when you smile like that.” Roger spat.

“This. Means. War. Roger.” You said slowly, empathizing every word. 

Roger smirked and glared down at you. "War? And what are you going to do? You’re cramped on this bus with me for the next three months and you aren’t even tall enough to reach my height. what is a shrimp like you going to do to me?"

You looked up at him and grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Watch me." For a moment you and Roger locked eyes and maybe for a second you saw a slight blush dust his cheeks. You let go of his shirt and quickly went to your bunk and closed the curtain. How were you going to get back at Roger? He was right, you were a lot smaller and weaker than him. But.... maybe he wanted to see you fight him. Maybe he liked seeing you get upset over every little thing. If that was the case then what?

You buried your face into your pillow and screamed. Roger was such a pain in the ass and at the same time you wanted him to like you, even just as friends. It would certainly make this trip a whole lot easier. You looked up from your pillow and wiped the tears that were beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. Every damn time you wanted to be close to someone you couldn't seem to get along with them. Sure you were Nick's sister and while you argued sometimes you were still somewhat close for siblings. But you also found yourself living in his shadow for most of your life. He, and his bandmates, were so much cooler and more talented than you and so it made sense that they wouldn't want anything to do with you. But that was just you throwing a pity party so you sat up and grabbed a pen and a notebook. At the top you neatly wrote, "THIS MEANS WAR ROGER". Below it you wrote out a checklist of all the ways you were going to get revenge on Roger. Step 1, ruin his night. Step 2, make him cry. Step 3, Kiss him. You slammed the book shut and then realized what you had written at the bottom, Kiss him.

Images of his pretty lips and unconventionally attractive features flooded your mind. It finally dawned on you that you didn't want to hurt him; you wanted to love him.

⫘READ MORE⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

1 YOU ARE HERE

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 CHAPTER 6

I had a dream that the members of Korn were donating clothes but in order to get them they made people fight in a mosh pit, and Johnathan Davis got really mad at me for being too aggressive and beating people up (you would be too for some free Tripp pants).

ℍ𝕒𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕄𝕖 𝕐𝕖𝕥? - 𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

ONESHOT - NSFW!

Warnings: VERY NSFW ONESHOT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You could feel warm hands wrapping around your stomach, contrasting the cool feeling of the stone tile on your bare feet. You hadn’t slept much last night because of certain...activities that had kept both you and Dave up until well past midnight. The exhaustion hadn't yet caught up to you, but the aching feeling between you legs was enough of a reminder.

Reluctantly, you had climbed out of bed and out of Daves embrace to get something to eat from the kitchen. Of course Dave had followed you, already missing the feeling of your bare body against his. Not like you were complaining about it though, you had also missed the warmth that had engulfed the two of you.

"What are you making baby?" Dave inquired between placing soft kisses on your neck.

"I was thinking of just eating a pop tart." You said.

"Sounds tasty, just like you." He smirked to himself and began to kiss along your jaw.

You smiled and reached across the counter for the box poptarts. Taking one, you opened the package and took bite.

"You want one?" You asked Dave.

"I want you." He answered, lifting you up by the waist and sitting you on the counter in front of him.

“ I guess you just cant get enough of me can you." You tried to joke, but your words faltered when you felt Daves erection pressing itself against your thigh.

"I get the feeling that you wouldn't mind more of me." He said. His warm hands now cupping your face and pulling you into a kiss. It of course started out sweet and slow, before it got more heated.

"Fuck baby, if you keep kissing me like that then we're going to end up back in bed.”

"Maybe that’s what I want.” You answered him between kisses.

Without another word, Dave picked you up from the counter and carried you back to the bedroom. Without breaking the kiss, he laid you down on the bed.

“Do you want me to be rough like last night, or do you want me to be gental with you?" He asked, knowing that you were probably still sensative from the night before.

"I want it rough of course." You said.

Dave gave you a concerned look and asked if you were sure that thats what you wanted.

"Yes baby, I’m sure thats what I want. I trust you."

Dave gave you a sweet smile and placed another rough kiss on your lips. His hands roamed your body, starting at your brests. His thumbs applying pressure to the sensitive spots he had learned would elicit noises from your pretty lips.

You started to get a bit impatient with his slow movements, so you moved I hand to his erection and stroked it slowly in retaliation. But Dave was quick to grab your hand and press your wrists above your head.

"I told you I would give you what you wanted didn't I? But since you chose to act out I’ll make this even more slow. By the time I’m done with you you’ll be begging for my dick like your life depends on it." You whimpered at his harsh words, and the way his hot breath fanned across your face.

“Get on the floor and sit on your knees." He demaned.

You immediently obeyed and got down on the floor. You looked up at him expectantly but he just scoffed at your desperation. He stood infront of you, his dick just centimeters from your lips.

“I want you to put your hands on my thighs and watch me get off." He commanded. You nodded and put your hands on his bare thighs. His hand wrapped itself around his erection and he sighed and the contact.

“I could have been in you by now if you weren’t such a brat." He mocked you as his hand moved up and down.

"I know you love the way I stretch that pussy of yours, too bad though." He looked down at you and smirked at the needy look on your face.

"Look at you, pressing your thighs together like that. You want me don't you.” His breathing was beginning  to get heavy and you knew what was coming next. The warm liquid sprayed out, painting your your face and chest with cum

''Do you think I should fuck you now baby?" He reached for a towel and cleaned the white liquid from your face.

"P-please Dave."

"Oh come on, I know you can beg better than that, you did last night.” Your face turned a deep shade of red.

"Please Dave, Im sorry for being impatient. I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk anymore. Please." Dave looked at you with an unimpressed expression.

“Honestly, do you expect me to give in when you beg like that. I can’t even get hard to that bull shit.”

You looked up at him with a distraught expression. The burning between your legs was agonizing, and all you wanted was for Dave to touch you. But instead he walked over to the dresser and pulled out a belt from one of the drawers. Giving you a stern look he walked back over to you. Smiling down at you, he ran the leather material across your cheek slowly.

“Do you want to know what Im going to do?" He asked you with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Im going to wrap this around your throat and choke you while you touch yourself." He didn't wait for an answer before pulling the belt tight around your neck. The pressure wasnt enough to hurt you, but it did serve as a reminder that Dave was in charge.

“Thats it baby, be a good girl for me and I might give you what you want." You pressed your fingers against your clit as you listened to Daves words. Fuck, you were so sensitive already, and after watching Dave jerk off you were practically melting. And of course the feeling of Dave’s belt pulling at your throat was making the situation all the more erotic.

"You're so hot, Ah I’ve got to be inside you." He panted, his erection growing from seeing you touch yourself like that. With one quick motion he pulled the belt up, guiding you to the bed like an animal on a leash. Once you were on the bed he unbuckled the belt from your neck, and used it to tie your wrists in place. When he was satisfied that you were ready, he spread your legs and pushed in you.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this, you feel so good every time." He panted as his movements began to get sloppy.

"I love you, oh fuck." He said as he pulled out and came on your stomach. Once he had recovered from his orgasm he smiled sweetly at you.

"Had enough of me yet?"

𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥, 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 - ℝ𝕠𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕆𝕣𝕫𝕒𝕓𝕒𝕝 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 2

TW!: child death / miscarriage / blood

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Blood. The sheets are covered in blood and so are my legs but I can’t get up. I’m in a strangers bed, five months pregnant and there’s a pool of blood around me. All I had done was agreed to let Roland take me home and sleep in a warm apartment for the first time in days and now my baby was gone. Was it because I betrayed Steven? Is this what I deserved? How would Roland, a man I barely knew and trusted on a whim, react to finding my bloody body lying next to him? I knew I should cry for my now dead child but instead all I could think about was the ruined sheets. I must be in shock but those damn sheets…he would have to burn them and I would have to buy him new ones and I barely had enough money to eat.

Roland began to stir on the other side of the bed and I forced myself to sit up and fall out of the bed. The falling part was an accident but what did it matter? Baby was dead and I deserved to be in pain.

“SALEM WHAT HAPPENED?!” Roland yelled in horror when he discovered the pool of blood next to him. At that point I was gone, so fucking gone.

“I-I’m so sorry Roland, I’ll buy you new sheets. I’ll clean it up and then leave. I’m so so so sorry.” Sorry, that’s all I could say, overs and over again. The sheets. I felt so bad about the sheets. And I felt like such and idiot for messing them up. And the mattress was probably ruined by now too. I would have to buy him another mattress which would be far more expensive than the sheets.

Roland jumped up and instantly wrapped his arms around me trying to get me to calm down and explain what happened.

“I-I think I had a miscarriage.” It was the first time I had said that vile word out load since I had woken up and dipped my fingers into my daughters blood.

“I’m so sorry Roland I feel like this is just some awful nightmare. I’m so sorry about the bed.” I again turned to see the messy sheets.

“Don’t you dare apologize. I don’t care about these sheets. This isn’t your fault. I’m here with you every step of the way.” Roland hugged me in a way that felt so genuine. A sort of warm hug I had never felt but had dreamed of since I was a young girl.

Roland had introduced himself and sat down beside me in the library. I felt so nervous being next to such a pretty man that I almost forgot to tell him my name.

“Oh I’m Salem.” I giggled nervously.

“Come here often Salem?” Roland rested his hand on his cheek and smiled at me. His deep brown eyes seemed to shine with the reflection of myself staring back at him. I felt so unattractive and yet I wanted him so bad. I had always jumped into the arms of any man that would have me and that’s probably how I ended up pregnant and homeless. But then as I began to talk to Roland I noticed a faint blush beginning to get redder on his cheeks. He was wearing the cutest sweater with a scarf and a long overcoat that made him look like a cute little schoolboy.

I explained most of my situation to him and the crazy thing was, he actually sat and listened to every word of it. He didn’t interrupt or tell me I got what I deserved, he just sat and nodded and occasionally gave me words of encouragement.

After several hours of rambling on about my miserable childhood, my poor taste in men and my current state of having no where to stay, Roland suggested that I stay at least one night in his apartment since he “couldn’t bare the thought of letting a young girl in your condition sleep on the street again tonight.” He promised that he had no ill intentions and I felt that his eyes seemed to reflect his honesty. So I walked with him, arms full of books, to my car where he drove me to his apartment. The whole night was spent laughing and eating a tray of left over lasagna that Roland had made. Never once had he tried to touch me or even so much as kiss me. He just hugged me cautiously goodnight as I climbed in his bed next to him.

That was when I was happy. But now I sat on his bedroom floor crying hysterically.

“I-I’m sorry Roland I barely know you and I just…I don’t know what to do” I sobbed. He gently placed his hand on my shoulder and brushed some hair away from my face.

“Please don’t apologize. We’re going to get through this together.” I looked down at my stomach and felt like vomiting. My thoughts were starting to become clearer and my mind turned its attention away from the bloody sheets I had been desperately grasping on to and now to the thoughts of the little baby I had lost. For months now I had been dreaming of holding her for the first time and playing with her as she happily waved her little fingers in the air.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” I whisper softly. “Just let it out. Let all the sadness and pain come out. Cry as much as you need to.” His words seemed to mix together with the loud voices in my head screaming at me.

“I’m going to take you to the doctor okay.” He said and gently picked me up. I was a mess, blood stained clothes and legs that felt disgusting. I felt like a murderer. I did this to my daughter and anyway she deserved better.

The doctor only told me what I already knew and so I spent the car ride back to Roland’s apartment feeling numb. I should call Steven, the voices in my head kept whispering. He deserves to know that his daughter is dead. But did he even care? I had likely lost the baby due to stress and lack of nourishment. Maybe if Steven hadn’t kicked me out I wouldn’t have been stressed or starving. Maybe if I had been with a better man I wouldn’t have been in this situation.

Roland stopped at the library so I could call Steven. After a few rings he picked up.

“Hello?” He said in that rough voice that had once given me butterflies.

“Steven? It’s me Salem.” I chocked back a sob.

“Didnt I tell you to never speak to me or show your face her again you fucking whore.” I couldn’t hold back, I let out a strangled sob as Steven continued to list all of the reasons as to why I was the problem and how I ruined his life.

“Steven….I had a miscarriage.” I said despite the fact that he was still talking. He couldn’t hit me here. The distance and the fact that Roland was sitting in his car waiting for me made me feel safe.

“Good riddance to you and that kid, would’ve turned out just as ugly and probably twice the slut you are.” He then slammed the phone down on the receiver and the line went silent.

It was over. Steven had made it clear that he didn’t want me. And now I was not only single I was also no longer pregnant. I slowly walked back to Roland’s car and tried not to start crying.

“You okay?” He asked cautiously.

“N-no”, I wiped away the tears that were forming, “he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I hate to say it Salem, but isn’t that a good thing? You can start over now.” I looked at him and he weakly smiled back at me.

“I guess.” I whispered.

“Tell you what”, Roland said in his deep English accent, “me and you could be roommates and I’ll help you find a job.” I knew he was trying to help me and that I couldn’t just sit around and pity myself all day so I agreed.

As he drove out of the parking lot I whispered, “I was going to name her Mia.”

𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥, 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 - ℝ𝕠𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕆𝕣𝕫𝕒𝕓𝕒𝕝 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 1

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

I leaned into the car mirror and tried my best to reapply the smudged eyeliner under my already tired brown eyes. I still had half an hour before I had to be at work and no where to go. My current boyfriend, Steven, had kicked me out of the house for the fourth time this month leaving me with nothing but my car and whatever was already lying around in my backseat.

I put the cap back in the eyeliner and leaned back in the seat, sighing heavily to myself. I was a cashier at a gas station and was barely making enough money to support myself much less my good for nothing boyfriend. Oh he liked to pretend that he was married to me and had some sort of control over me, and for the most part that was true, but I refused to marry him if all he was going to do was sit around the apartment all day and abuse me verbally. He used to hit me but ever since I got pregnant that had stoped. Still, he would make remarks about my changing body and how I would be unattractive after I gave birth to “baby”. That’s what I was calling it for now. I knew it was going to be a girl but I still refers to her simply as “baby” because I didn’t want to think about how in just a few months I would have to raise a child in an abusive home. My heart hurt everyday for this little girl inside me who would have to suffer just like I did and it was all my fault.

I rubbed my hands over my face and looked at the time, 3:50pm. It was still ten minutes too early to clock in so I decided to eat a bag of chips and try to not think about all of the chaos that was going on in my life.

After finishing the chips I threw on a large jacket and climbed out of the car and walked into the store. My job was another thing that I hated. The boss was an asshole and barely paid me enough to get by. Today I only worked from 4 to 8 with just one other person there. It was incredibly dangerous for a pregnant woman and a teenage girl to run a gas station alone at night but the boss didn’t care.

I put my apron on and pulled out a stool for me to sit down since it was hard for me to stand all day.

“Salem, I need to speak with you.” The boss called from his office that was behind the counter. I groaned to myself and got up to go see what drama he was going to start today.

“I’m sorry but I won’t be needing you to come in but two days a week 4 to 8 as usual.” He said coldly.

“WHAT???” I almost screamed. “I’m barely making a hundred dollars a week and you know I have a kid on the way. How am I supposed to survive?!” I was starting to turn red from anger.

The boss just shook his head. “There’s nothing I can do, we’ve been slow in the evenings and I just don’t need you here.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I fucking quit.” I said and took off the apron. Steven would be furious when he found out but I needed to get a better job anyway.

“I’ll be here next week to pick up my check.” I turned around before the boss could say anything and left the store. It felt like such a relief to finally be out of that situation but I still couldn’t help but worry about where I was going to find more work to support Stevens lazy ass as well as baby who would be here in less than 4 months. I needed help and I needed to get away from Steven but the baby made it harder then ever to even consider leaving him. Baby needed a father in her life as well as a mother who wasn’t constantly being abused and I knew I couldn’t give her that but I also couldn’t give up on her.

My cars headlights hit the poorly lit library parking lot as I pulled up to the sidewalk and turned the car off. I locked the doors and climbed into the backseat to lie down. My phone was dead and I was almost out of gas. It was far less than ideal for a pregnant woman to be sleeping alone in her car in a parking lot but I didn’t have anything better to be doing.

As I laid there in the cold, dark car I began to cry. I hadn’t cried in a long time and all of the pain had been building up for so long. I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t put my daughter through this. I believed in soulmates and yet I still chose to be with a man that I knew wasn’t meant for me. But how could things ever get better? I could run away, I could abandon my daughter but I wouldn’t deserve love after that. Surely there was someone out there who was meant to be with me like a piece in a puzzle made specifically to fit with another. Were they just as miserable as me right now? Could we ever find each other?

The next morning I woke up to find that I had cried myself to sleep in the freezing backseat of my car. I needed to get gas and find somewhere that I could stay and be safer then I was on the street. The only problem was that I only had a $20 bill on me and nothing else.

I started the car and drove the a gas station with the cheapest gas and got $10 worth of gas so that I would still have $10 for food. Not eating wasn’t an option since I was pregnant so I had to force myself to find enough food to keep baby healthy.

After I got gas and bought a few cheap salads and drinks I decided that the safest place for me to go was the now open library. At least there I could read and not be harassed as much as I could be just wandering around on the streets. The library itself was a large castle like building that had a pay phone and plenty of places to sit down or use the bathroom if I needed to. Normally I would stay there until it was close to time for me to go to work but today I had hours and hours to kill here.

There was a cute little sitting area that was in the children’s section that I spent most days reading horror novels or whatever the newest romance book was out in the front lobby. I was a huge sucker for romances and all of the cliches that filled pages and pages of the books that I picked up. I hadn’t been much of a reader until I had become for the most part homeless but sitting in the library made me want to drown out my sorrows in some sappy romance or ever the wildest psychological horror novel. I also found myself staring at the play area and imagining my daughter playing there. It would be so much harder when she was born. I wouldn’t be able to survive on just a few dollars a day and I certainly couldn’t let Steven hurt her. It was all too much to handle and I didn’t want to think about it anymore, I just wished the problem could somehow solve itself. But it was so much more complicated than that.

Wandering through the shelves of the romance section I traced my finger along the spines of each book before pulling one out. Much to my surprise I found myself staring into the eyes of the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. He had the prettiest lips and curly black hair that I could only dream of running my fingers through. He looked just as startled as I was and so we stood there a moment, staring into one another’s eyes and thinking of what to say or do next.

“I-I’m sorry miss.” The man whispered in the deepest accent that drove me crazy. I didn’t really feel bad for being attracted to him since Steven was barely even my boyfriend and he hadn’t so much as touched me in an affectionate way since I got pregnant. It hadn’t occurred to me, but I had been craving the attention or hell, even the love of another human being. Sure I loved baby and had her with me but I wanted someone that would hold me and listen to me cry, someone who could understand all of the chaos and make me feel better. Ever since my mom had lost custody of me at just four years old I had been in and out of foster homes, running away just to get drug back and abused until I finally aged out and found myself on the street with barely any money or place to go. It was scary and I was broken and I think that’s why I jumped at the first opportunity to get in a relationship with a man I had met at a homeless shelter. He was clearly on drugs and could get violent at times but at first he was kind to me and I would spend my days daydreaming about a life where I was happily married to this man. But then when I had finally saved up enough money to get and apartment he began to get violent with me. He hit me and shamed me day in and day out but then he would be loving and hold me as I cried. He would make me believe that I was just being dramatic about the abuse and that this is how all couples fought. I was too naïve to know any better and when I found out that I was going to have a baby, our baby, I realized that I couldn’t do this anymore. But here stood a man with kind eyes and a gorgeous face and I couldn’t help but want to be loved by him.

“It’s fine.” I smiled and tried not to think about how awful I must have looked.

“I see you’re into romance novels?” He asked shyly.

“Yeah it’s kinda cheesy I guess but I love reading about two people falling in love and being happy together no matter what.” I was starting to ramble and decided to shut up before I scared him off.

“I like them too,” he laughed softly,”want to sit at a table with me and we can talk about them?” I nodded and walked to a nearby table while the man walked around the shelf towards me.

“Oh woah.” He softly whispered when he saw my stomach.

“Im sorry I had no idea you were…you know….uhhh.” He was starting to tense up.

“Oh no it’s fine. Yes I’m pregnant but my boyfriend kicked me out a few days ago so I guess the relationship is over.” I looked down at my stomach and blushed. It was suddenly embarrassing to admit that I was in such an awful situation. The man didn’t say anything he just sat down next to me and smiled sympathetically.

“That’s terrible that a young girl like you should have to suffer because of some asshole like him. Anyone who would throw a pregnant girl out on the street is pure evil.” He must have noticed the tears that were beginning to roll down my cheeks because he carefully brushed his hand under my eyes, moving the tears from my face.

“I’m Roland by the way.”

𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕀𝕥 𝔹𝕒𝕔𝕜 - 𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕕 𝔾𝕚𝕝𝕞𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

ONESHOT

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

David has officially won the world record as shittiest boyfriend of the year. Maybe even the eon if he was being honest, and the worst part was that he hadn’t even realized what he had lost until it was far too late. He had lost the kindest, smartest and of course most beautiful girl that he could probably ever hope to be with and yet he had lied to her and pushed her to her limits to see if she would break. And well, she had broke. He had been pushing and pushing until one night he came home to a house completely wiped of her existence except a small note that didn’t even seem like it was meant to have been left for him to find.

It read,” I might not do this. I have to leave David no matter how much I love him; I just can’t keep staying up late every night worrying about him and wondering if he’s with some other woman because I’m not enough for him. I know he’s been cheating but then I think maybe it’s my fault, maybe I’m not pretty enough or maybe it’s because I pester him too much. He’s a musician and I don’t know why I ever thought I could tie him down with a family.”

In all the note was small and likely a page ripped from her diary that had been taken with her in her grand exodus that had occurred when he wasn’t home.

David wiped the smudged lipstick from his lips and realized that there were small water stains on the paper. Was he crying? No there was only sticky red lipstick that seemed to burn his skin now. He had been cheating on her, he wasn’t really sure why now but it was true. He had told himself that he was a rockstar, a celebrity of sorts and a tortured man who was only happy when he had women throwing themselves at him. But rarely did he ever stop and think about the woman he had waiting for him at home. She didn’t have to get undressed for him to notice her, or at least she didn’t at the beginning. Way back when he appreciated how cute she was, back when her lips were enough to please him. But the more he thought of her, the more he was filled with rage and desire.

The red stains wouldn’t come out. No matter how hard David scrubbed his face still felt feverish and raw as if the lipstick were a brand marking his infidelity. He felt so gross now not just on his face but everywhere. It hadn’t occurred to him last night but he truly felt infected somehow. The smell of another woman’s perfume clung to his shirt no matter how much cologne he drowned his body in. He couldn’t even remember what the girl he had had wrapped around him looked like but she seemed to still be gripping on to him, reminding him of his mistakes. She wasn’t the only girl, there had been others. A new one almost every night he stayed out late “at the studio”. He used to come home to a cold plate of food and his tired girlfriend asleep on the couch. And for some reason this had angered him. She was somehow unknowingly in his way and yet she meant the world to him. In hindsight he could only now see the warnings screaming from all sides.

One year ago

He could hear her laughter rising from deep within her lungs and mixing with his own. Her smile lit up her face as she laid on his lap and reached a soft hand to his cheek. This moment was so perfect and David could think of nothing else but how excited he was to finally share a small apartment with his girlfriend. He couldn’t wait to wake up to her gorgeous face in the mornings and wrap his arms around her waist when he found her in the kitchen cooking. He wanted stay up late into the night laughing and talking with her and spend afternoons laying on the floor next to her listening to the radio. There was so much that they could do together, so much that they hadn’t been able to do before. But none of it ever happened. Instead David would wake up on the couch after a night of drinking, or cook for himself when she was mad at him which had become a daily occurrence. And instead of spending his nights with her he would spend them with women who were easy with their affections but meant little else to him. He had chose this and now she was gone, he should have known this would happen. At any point her love and patience would run out and she would take it all back.

3 days ago

David didn’t even bother to sneak in when he could come home early in the morning. He didn’t care if she knew he was home late because he was the man of the house and what was she going to do to him anyway? Be mad at him? She was always mad but that didn’t hurt him any.

She was awake which was unusual because it was almost 3 in the morning and she was normally passed out by 11. But tonight she just had a feeling, a very, very bad feeling. David was out again “with Roger discussing the new album” but the odd thing was that Roger had called her that night looking for David. Things just weren’t making sense but surely there was an explanation. She didn’t need to track his every move right? Maybe David’s car had gotten a flat tire, or maybe he had gone to run some errands before heading to Rogers house? But no, she knew none of that was true because Roger had said, “I haven’t heard from David in a few days.” David had supposedly gone to Rogers place maybe two days ago so he was obviously lying to her. But why? She thought David was an honest man but evidently not. So when he did finally stumble through the apartment door she couldn’t push away that sick, damming feeling.

Through the light that spilled through the bedroom doorway she could see David rush to the bathroom like he was hiding something. She got up and swung open the bathroom door. David made some weak attempt to protest but he could lie anymore, she had caught him with red stains all over his face and neck, which also stunk of cheap perfume and a few of his top shirt buttons were ripped off.

“Did you have fun?” She scoffed. David’s face went from shock to anger as his girlfriend of two years reached for a damp towel and began to wipe off the lipstick smudges. All David could do was to sit in the toilet lid and look up into her blank expression. The silence annoyed him and paired with the gentle rubbing of the bath towel to his face made him wish he had stayed out a little longer. He was ready to scream at her when she began to sing.

“Ring a ring o’ roses A pocketful of posies, A-tishoo, a-tishoo We all fall down”

What the hell?? David thought. She was seriously singing a nursery rhyme after she had found out he was cheating on her?! Then again what did he expect? What was the proper response? She had screamed at him, hit him, cried and poured out her heart to him and still he lied to her. And no matter how much he hurt her, he would still blame everything on her.

“Why are you singing.” He forced the dry words through his lips. The girl stopped her gentle wiping and thought for a moment.

“The red stains look like blisters, like the ones that plagued England.” Of course, she was so childish and yet he felt that there really was some truth to her words. She grabbed his jaw and kissed over the raw, irritated skin.

“Is this how she kissed you David? It’s no different than I would have done it had you come home to our bed.”

5 hours ago

She didn’t have a better place to go other than her friends house, but it would have to do until she could find a decent place to live by herself. She had really wanted things to work out with David but she couldn’t waste her youth on a man who clearly didn’t love her. He was barely attentive enough to ask her about her day and she was beginning to feel so empty coming home to a house full of his things but not him. She was also beginning to feel ill from how much she was neglecting her body to look better for him in hopes of him falling in love with her again. Where was that soft spoken English boy she had met two years ago? The one who was passionate about music and so poetic with his words. She would find herself speechless at the beautiful way he would describe the most mundane things as if just walking outside were this elaborate adventure full of otherworldly metaphors and purpose. She admired him and cherished any affection he would give her, but that affection was almost nonexistent these days. She would have to beg him to glance at her kindly and intimacy was a luxury reserved for women far more beautiful than herself.

Tears streamed down her face as she shoved the last of her things into her car and climbed in the drivers seat. David barely noticed or cared about her presence so what did it matter if she left?

Present time

David balled his fist around the piece of paper and looked in the mirror once more to check his reflection. His face was red but free of “evidence” as he called it. It was too late to get her back and that might just hurt both of them more, but he had to decide, did he want to apologize? Did he want to lift her in his arms and pretend none of this ever happened? Or maybe this was all for the best, maybe now he could stay out late without her nagging him and wanting him to be a family man when that just wasn’t who he was right now. He was young and successful and he didn’t want to live the boring life she seemed content with.

For a few days he didn’t even try to speak to her. He didn’t know how to reach her anyway, but he certainly hadn’t tried either. About a week later he found himself lying on their once shared bed staring up at the dingy ceiling. Had they ever laid next to each other in this bed? Or spent a single loving moment together in this room in general? Maybe in the early days, before lust had consumed him but that was still no excuse for the way that he treated her. He compared her to other girls and made her beg for love. She gave herself to him so freely with only the purest of love and he denied her for more disposable affections. It wasn’t as if she was the one distancing herself from him, so why was he so cruel to her?

There were so many signs and God knows he did his best to ignore them but all of the temptation seemed to turn his faith to lies. All of her love had flowed right through him and now it’s was all gone. He had expected this, all of those “I love you’s”, he knew she would take it back someday.

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕚𝕣 - 𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕕 𝔾𝕚𝕝𝕞𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 2

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Blue fabric and blond curls brushing against once youthful pounds of flesh. Once painless joints dance and fingers intertwinedas laughter erupts from the lungs of the two lovers. Crashed hotel rooms and half-burnt cigarettes combine with the smell of coffee cups that had been forgotten the moment that clothes had been tossed aside on the floor and short words of affection were exchanged. These memories are only fleeting in David’s mind as he grew older. He could see girls he had once loved flash before his eyes like static on a TV, only a few images were clear and once they were enjoyed they vanished back again into that special hell for unremarkable thoughts. Dirty thoughts, lustful ones that could drag him to that same hell with them if he didn’t shake them from his mind. But no matter how hard he tried he felt this overwhelming sense of distraction every time he saw her. Or rather every time he saw the tiny picture of that mysterious girl on her tiny plastic license. Her had every inch of her silhouette engraved into his mind but all he had to look at was that picture. It was grainy and the lighting was atrocious but he kept it safely in his pocket in case he saw her again, or in case he just felt like resting his eyes in something pretty.

Y/N couldn’t be more stressed. Not only had she been humiliated by some married asshole, but she had also embarrassed herself in front of a hot guy in the bathroom at the party last night, and to add to everything else, she had lost her driver's license. Technically she hadn’t needed it last night since she had gotten a taxi to take her to the party last night and then drive her home because she had assumed she’d be coming home drunk, but instead, she came home brokenhearted and without a very important little ID. At least she had come home alone. That had been the goal, right? Don’t hook up and get hurt but rather show the world that you can be a strong independent woman. She really showed all of those men working for various record labels, didn’t she?

It had been almost a week since David had seen her at the party that was set up for music producers to mingle with up-and-coming artists and discuss contracts as well as find members of successful bands who could mentor these young musicians. It hadn’t been the most eventful party but it had weighed heavily on David’s mind and the more he thought about her the worse the obsession became until finally, David decided that maybe this mysterious girl, whoever she was, probably needed her ID back asap. But how would he find her? He’d never seen her before and she seemed so nervous he doubted that she’d show back up at another party like that. Maybe he could ask around? But who would he ask? And how would he describe her? “Oh you know this really cute girl with the pretty hair and the pretty eyes and the great figure and shy personality?” Like that would make any sense to anyone but him. When he had first laid eyes on her he had wondered what he wanted from her. Sex? Company? Did he want to have her as just some hot girl to carry around and show off to executives? That was probably it knowing him, but now that she was gone he needed to find her to return her ID and this was David’s one chance to do something that might make her notice him. Then hopefully he would know her as an acquaintance at most. But deep down, maybe between his legs, he got the feeling that he wanted way more from her.

Y/N had dabbled in music since she was in elementary school when she had been pressured into playing the cello by her parents and despite hating it throughout middle school she was talented. It wasn’t until she began playing along with rock songs on her cello that she realized that the instrument was cool and something that she grew to enjoy. She loved playing covers of songs from bands like The Beatles, Creedence Clearwater Revival and Pink Floyd. Oh, how she adored Pink Floyd. She loved the album Animals since she was also a fan of the book Animal Farm and she had seen the movie for the Wall a couple of hundred times. She enjoyed the lyrics and music that had such depth to them that she could never duplicate. And then the band members were an obsession in and of itself. Her favorite members were probably Nick, Syd and David, god David was hot. Y/N wasn’t exactly in her youthful years anymore but she was pretty sure that all of the Pink Floyd members were old and wrinkly by now. Wait a minute, the older man that she has seen at the party, could he have been…the David Gilmour? He certainly had David’s gorgeous lips and eyes. But no, there was no way she could have been that lucky. She quickly jumped up and went to her computer to see what David looked like these days. *Click click* there he was, staring back at her from the other side of a screen, the David Gilmour, the same man that she had met in the bathroom doorway at a party.

David didn’t think that the girl he had been interested in, okay obsessed, had recognized him as a member of Pink Floyd. She did look a bit younger than him and maybe people her age just weren’t interested in classic rock the way they once were when he had joined the band. But even if she had recognized him she hadn’t said anything that had indicated she knew who he was. The reason he was falling down this thought process was because he had hoped that if she did recognize him she would be at the concert tonight so he could give her the ID that she had dropped at the party. Pink Floyd was currently on tour for their new album “The Division Bell” and if David had any hope of returning the license before he went far out of town to tour, she needed to be there. Maybe in passing, he should have introduced himself as a rock legend but he didn’t, seemed a bit egotistical at the time, but now it felt like a missed opportunity to meet up again. David wiped the sweat from his forehead and walked on stage. His heart sank when he looked out into the crowd but what was he expecting? For her to be on the front row screaming for his attention? Would he have climbed down off the stage and placed the card that had kept them connected for the past few weeks into her palm and gently closed her fingers around the piece of plastic so that she would never lose it again? But then he would lose her.

Tickets were so expensive but it was so worth it. Y/N pressed the rewind button on her CD player and listened intently as the opening piano notes played for “High Hopes” the 11th track on Pink Floyd’s new album “The Division Bell”. She had listened to the album over and over dancing to it, singing along and daydreaming about David. She had purchased tickets to the closest concert and was excitedly choosing what to wear. So what if her biggest goal in life was to stop hooking up with men she barely knew and developing feelings, if she came home with David Gilmour then that was better than accomplishing her goals.

David’s voice rippled through the crowd as instruments crashed and hummed all around him, flying past his ears and into the crowd who screamed for more. But his now watering eyes weren’t focused on the crowd but rather on the girl who stood just a few rows back from the stage. Her hair flew in the wind and her smile beamed up at him as he sang. It had to be her.

Y/N sighed and pressed rewind again in her CD player. Track two pounding the words “What do you want from me” along to the beat of her pounding migraine. It was too early to be waking up and getting all dressed up for another day. She stumbled to the bathroom and sat down on the cold porcelain toilet. The year was 2003 and Y/N was well past her youth. About ten years ago she still had the energy to go out, party and pick up men. She still had the strength to scream along at concerts and sneak backstage just as she had done at the concert where she had officially met the man of her dreams. It hadn’t been the first time they had seen each other, no the first time she had seen him was in the bathroom doorway of a smoke-filled room, but at that concert when their eyes had met and he had flashed a little white card at her, she knew he was the one and that she would never need to worry about being heartbroken again.

David waved the little card for just a second and winked at the girl. When he saw her blush and look down, he knew, he’d never have to put his love on the air again.

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕆𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕚𝕣 - 𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕕 𝔾𝕚𝕝𝕞𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 1

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

David’s fingers were begining to grow numb from pressing down on the thin metal strings over and over again as he tried to make the old acustic guitar sing the way he wanted it to. It just wasn’t working no matter how he changed it and played each chord backwards and forwards like turning the song inside out and then back again.

Normally he could pick up his guitar and play the way he wanted. After all, he was THE David Gilmour, one of the four members of Pink Floyd. So why the hell wasn’t his fingers and mind connecting to play in that beautiful, fluid way that they always did? Maybe he was distracted by the recent chaos that had been happening in his life the past few days. Well, to say it had started a few days ago is a bit of an understatement. It had really been happening since he was a teenager. He just felt as if his whole life he had been laser focused on his music. Sure, it was fun and had made him wealthier than he had ever imagined he would be. But at the same time all of the touring and practicing had filled his schedule to the point of having little to no time to relax. And by relax he really meant talk to women.

It had been years since he had been comitted to a relationship and now that he was getting older he found himself enjoying the money and fame less and less, and feeling even more lonely with every passing day.

He was still pretty voung, but getting far too old to be running around at all hours and partying like he was in college. He wanted to settle down and have a family and be loved truly instead of felling like he was alwavs putting his love on the air.

Thousands, maybe millions of people were screaming from the crowd as David was blinded by the stage lights. Nick was thumping out an introduction to the song as Rick was playing a nearly silent tune on his keyboard. David glanced to Roger who was gripping his bass waiting, anticipating the moment that the song would begin and his harsh voice would ring out with his calloused english accent echoing throughout the crowd. David loved this, he loved the praise and adrinaline that he got from performing. It was incedible how good he could feel letting his soul bleed out on stage. People loved Pink Floyed, they loved the messages behind the songs and everyone was chomping at the bit to see them on tour. And that was what David meant by love on the air, people would hear their songs on the radio and see them in interviews and claim to love them or even understand them. David felt as if he was transmitting but the reception was hazy. Every woman he met cared about who he was but not who HE was. He would try and try again knowing how crazy he felt putting himself out there just to get his heart broken.

Y/N hadn’t ever really had trouble charming men. Ever since she was a little girl she could scope out any boy she wanted and walk right up to him. But none of it was ever real, or at least it didn’t feel real. While she had an easy time entertaining men for a night or even a few weeks, long term relationships were completely foreign to her. After years and years of being loved and then tossed aside she vowed that no one would hurt her again, no one would cause her to lie, no one would control her by pain, no one would cause her to cry, at least not if she could help it. She wrote all of this down between tear stains in her diary. She then reread what she had wrote and scratched off the part about not crying. Maybe she could work on that part later. One little goal at a time right? Well tonight would be the perfect opportunity to test herself and see if she would fall into her habits or persevere as the new woman that she wanted to be.

The room was heavy with smoke and the general hot aura that a large crowd brings. Y/N did her best to squeeze through the roomful of people as she hurriedly made her way to the restroom. The hot, sticky feel of the room was made worse by the tears that stung her eyes. No one seemed to notice that she was crying, or at least it seemed that she wasn’t being watched. In her frenzy she had actually caught the eye of a man in his early thirties. Y/N herself was no longer in her prime so it wasn’t all that odd that she was being noticed by David.

David himself felt a slight rise in his heart rate that he acreddited to mere lust. She was beautiful, she looked to be around his age, and she was only a few feet away from him. He could talk to her, he could get her name, he could take her on a date, but then what? What did he really want? Sex? Company? He didn’t want to have such empy feelings for a woman he knew nothing about. He was always glancing around parties with wandering eyes like a ship trying to fix on a beacon. And so far that had proven a fruitless strategy when it came to attracting women.

Y/N’s red, puffy eyes had clealy gone unnoticed by David as well as the rest of the people at the party. She slipped into the restroom and locked herself inside immediently letting her hands fly to her face and posture slump. Here she was again falling into old habits and letting her heart be broken so freely. It wouldn’t kill her to go home alone for just one night, but she couldn’t seem to resist being flirtatious whenever anyone was friendly to her. And now she was in someone’s bathroom crying all because she had let herself get interested in a man she met at the party, but as it would turn out he was married. She hadn’t even been all that upset that he had more or less led her on by offering her drinks and complimenting her, she was more upset by the fact that she had been publically humiliated by the mans wife who called her an array of different derogatory terms and shunned her from the party. To add to the bad situation, Y/N would have to call a taxi becasue the girl that she had come here to see, her so called friend, hadn’t even been there. It was all just so messy and Y/N had hoped that tonight she would find someone who was genuinly interested in her or even leave the party happy without a man.

Her shaky hands dug around in her purse as she tried to reapply makeup around her puffy eyes. Someone was knocking on the door and she didn’t want to walk out looking a mess. Another gentle tap made her jump a little and she shoved everything back in her purse. What did it matter if she looked bad? She didn’t know any of these people anyway. They had all embarassed her and she just wanted to go home.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” She said, exhasperated as yet another knock at the door echoed througn the tiny bathroom. It must have been a man outside since she heard him huff in sort of a lover voice.

Y/N swung open the door and expected to find an annoyed man in a suit who would make fun off her for taking so long in the bathroom. Perhaps he would even comment on how selfish he thought women were for caring about their appearences all while Y/N would stare at his overgrown nose hairs and wish that he would look in the mirror more often. This was what she had expected, but what she got was a handsome man with a slight beard framing his chin and the most beautiful lips Y/N had ever seen. He had somewhat long brown hair and gorgeous eyes that dully gazed down at her.

“I’m sorry sir.” Y/N realized that she had been blocking the doorway and he must have been annoyed. But instead of snapping at her, he gave her a sympathetic look

"Were vou crying?" He moved back and examined her red face. Y/N felt even more hot tears roll down her face she must have been an absolute wreak with her hair disheveled hair and all but gone makeup. she shifted her weight from her right foot to the left and then back again

“I-its nothing. I’m sorry for taking so long in the bathroom. Here, let me move out of your way.” The man had reached a hand out to her, almost as if he was asking to wipe her tears, but when she shuffled past him he let his hand fall to his side. She seemed to disapear back into the dimly lit room before David could even get her name.

As his mind did its best to process all of what had just happened, he slowly walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Inside the bathroom was a rather ugly maroon shower curtain that covered a yellowing apartment style bathtub. The toilet was in the same shape of distress as the tub, but with a wooded lid that made it all the more depressing. The once white ceiling was yellow from cigarette smoke and there was a cute little hand painted sign that read, “Jesus loves you”.

David sat on the edge of the tub and sighed. He had come in here to just take a break from the party. It was someone’s house, but it was also a good way to nework since David was working on a few solo projects. The light reflecting from the small window on to the poorly placed mirror caught Davids eye for a brief moment and he looked up to see his refelction. He wasn’t who he used to be. That was all he could think, well that and the fact that by putting his love out there again and againt he had essencially learned how to sigh on the ribbon and wires, but it was a habit that was so hard to weaken.

And to make it worse he didn’t even know her name. Wait. Was that her drivers license on the floor? David reached his leg over to the small plastic card and slid it over to him with the tip of his shoe. In the tiny picture he could see those same sad eyes gazing at him the way they had just a few minutes prior. Only they had been red and slightly more piercing then.

David stood up and slowly made his way to the bathroom door. Here was his chance to do one of three things. Either he could make a friend, find the love of his life, or it would end as a one night experience that would only make him even more lonely. Either way she needed her license so he opened the door and floated through the crowded room. He looked around for her silhouette in the dim lights but didn’t see her. After a few minutes of looking and walking between groups of people he decided that she had probably left. He slipped the ID into his pocket and walked over to a group of women.

It’s funny how women were the very people he couldn’t seem to understand or gain the confidence to talk to. But when he felt empty he knew he could strike up a conversation about his work or play a few chords and everyone would go crazy if only for a minute. And then again, that was the only way he knew how to communicate, was to put his love on the air.

𝔻𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕄𝕖 𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 - ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕒𝕪𝕝𝕠𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

ONESHOT - NSFW!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“Please, Roger.” You softly begged, pulling yourself closer to him on the bed in desperation.

He smiled cruelly and moved away from you. He had been pushing you to your limits for four weeks. Four. fucking. Weeks. He hardly let you kiss him, much less relieve even the slightest bit of sexual frustration that he had been building up for a month now. This sort of odd sexual starvation was something you had both agreed on, so you couldn't blame Roger for the agony you were currently in.

“Roger….IT HAS BEEN A MONTH, PLEASE!” You whined. You wanted to grab him by the shirt and kiss him until he was the one begging you for relief. But you needed him to say yes, and if he wasn't in the mood, there was nothing you could do but sulk. Normally, the next logical thought is to touch yourself, but of course, Roger wasn't about to let you have any opportunity to stop the burning between your legs. He was always there, always watching you, and if you calmed down at all, he'd notice that you had broken the rules, so you just had to deal with it.

“Awww, I don't think that's been long enough,” Roger smirks, half of his face pressed into his pillow as he looks at you. You groan and flop back onto the bed.

“Roger, I don't even care about your ‘rules’ I will start doing some crazy shit.” You huff half-jokingly. Rogers's face fades from a smile, and he sits up.

“Like hell, you will.” He pins you down and scowls at you. “What did we agree on, honey? No touching yourself or me sexually. You're the one who wanted to be desperate, remember?” Fuck, he was right in a way, you had mentioned that you were tired of how routine having sex was starting to feel. It was starting to get so predictable and boring, and you missed the feeling of desire that you used to feel when you had first met Roger.

“Well, a month is ridiculous.” You mumble.

“You should have been more specific then,” Roger says as he opens the drawer on his bedside table. You look over in hopes that he’ll pull out something, ANYTHING, that will make you feel better. He pulls out a tie that looks like it's been shoved in the back of that drawer for years.

“What is that for?” Roger still has one hand pinning down both of your wrists, which is sadly the most physical attention he has shown you for the past month.

“Do you think that this month hasn't been difficult for me, baby?” Roger closes the drawer and looks back at you. Now that he mentions it, you hadn't thought about how this had affected him. Maybe that was selfish, but he wasn't the one whose body was built with the instinct to get pregnant and then destroy itself every month. Your eyes widen as he starts wrapping the silk tie around your wrists. Yes! He was finally going to fuck you, and it would be over, and you could go back to the routine sex that you had taken for granted.

“Oh, I'm not giving in if that's what you think.” Roger laughs. “I'm going to make you watch me get off to the sight of you begging under me, and then I'm going to bed.” He gently kisses your cheek as he pulls his pajama pants off his hips.

“R-Roger, please, this has gone on long enough.” You plead, but he just shakes his head. “I suggest that you close your mouth unless you want me to cum in there when I'm done.” You close your mouth immediately and blush. “Fuck you.” You mutter through gritted teeth, but Roger ignores you. His pretty blue eyes gaze at you everywhere but your face, making you feel a bit exposed despite being fully clothed. You look around to avoid his gaze but notice him pulling his dick out in your peripheral vision. It had been weeks since it had made an appearance, and you found yourself oddly desperate to even see Roger naked.

“You can watch if you want, staring wasn't against the rules, and I know damn well I've been staring at you.”

“Really?” You ask softly as you look up at him. One hand is placed beside your head to hold himself up and the other is gently stoking his dick above you. “What have you been staring at?”

Roger groans and sits back on his knees. “I've been staring at those pretty lips every time you pout about how I won't fuck you.” His voice has always been soft but the way he whispers it makes you moan.

“Are you that desperate? Are you going to cum just from me talking about your lips?” He teases, making his free hand move to gently run his thumb over your lips.

“Please just fuck me Roger, it would feel so much better for both of us.” You whine, but Roger doesn't give in.

“That won't work but I do enjoy watching you squirm under me.” His words make you pout but then you remember that that's what he's getting off on, so you bite back your bottom lip.

“You know that only makes it worse when you bite your lip.” He laughs cruelly. “But it's making it easier for me, so don't stop. Matter of fact why don't you beg me to fuck your throat since you want to feel something so bad.”

“Roger-” Your face is bright red, and your breathing is shaky. “Please fuck my throat, please, even just letting me suck on the tip would be enough or sliding it over my lips even for a second would be better than laying here watching.” Your words start to become a bit jumbled as you fight through the fog of desire.

“Shit, you'd do all of that just for the tip? What else would you do just to feel a little bit of me?” Roger asks, though his breathing is becoming heavy.

“Id let you fuck my ass…raw…with no lube just to feel your dick.” You say and immediately regret it as Roger flips you over.

“WAIT, NOT REALLY!” You yelp, making him laugh.

“But you said you were that desperate.” He says as he pulls down your pants and underwear in one movement. You try to move away from him, but he grabs your hips.

“Relax baby, I'm not going to do that, but you shouldn't say things you don't mean.” He pulls your right leg up to expose your pussy from behind. “Wow, you are soaking wet.” He whispers to himself, a single finger slips between your legs, and you gasp.

“Has it been this swollen all month?” Roger asks, half concerned and half amused.

“Yes.” You groan into the pillow

“Poor baby, I bet it's uncomfortable when you wear those tight pants you always have on. And I won't be too vulgar, but I may have stared at your ass more times than Id like to admit this month.” You blush and smile a little bit since Roger can't see your face. But your smile doesn't stay long as Roger replaces his finger with his dick. He doesn't push in though it would be very easy with how wet you are, instead, he roughly grinds against the sensitive area effectively covering his dick on your mess.

“Rog- Please.” You whimper. You've given up hope that you'll ever feel okay again, and it almost makes you want to cry in agony with the way you stupidly took Rogers's affections for granted. This was the man who gave you everything, and you had the audacity to get bored.

“Fuck I can't hold back anymore I want you so bad but please promise me that we’ll never take each other for granted again,” Roger says between heavy breaths.

“I promise, Roger.” You say and he takes that as a sign to shove his dick in.

“Ahhhhhhh shit Rog.” You moan at how good it feels. His hands find themselves on your hips as he wastes no time fucking you harder than he ever has. A month's worth of tension erupts between both of you. A hand moves to the crown of your head, sliding over your scalp and pulling harshly at any hair that Roger can blindly grab.

“I've missed this so much, you have no idea Roger whimpers as he pulls out and rolls you over.

“I can imagine,” you moan as he instantly slides back in and moves his hips a bit slower but in just the right spot that makes you grip onto the bars of the headboard with your still-bound hands.

“I'm going to cum Roger.” You huff, your chest struggling to keep up with how fast your heart is beating.

“No, you're not.” Roger grins. “WHAT?!?” You groan, expecting him to pull out and continue the month-long torment, but he just laughs.

“Not on your back, come here.” He pulls you into his lap and pulls the loosened tie off with his teeth, his hands grab at your ass as you move your hips on his dick until you cum. You dig your nails into his shoulders as he continues to fuck you.

“Roger, I'm so sensitive.” You moan, whining in pain.

“Aw, come on, I haven't gotten to fill you up in a month.” Roger buries his face in your shoulder and moves your hips a few more times before he shakily whines your name as he cums.

“I'm never taking that for granted again.” You groan as you climb off of Roger.

“Good because next time it'll be two months.”

OCCULTSTARR MASTERLIST

·:༺ ♱✮♱ ༻:·

ℙ𝕀ℕ𝕂 𝔽𝕃𝕆𝕐𝔻

★ Divine - Nick Mason x reader

⌞ Nick Mason is the cute drummer of Pink Floyd. Unfortunately, the whole band is bankrupt, so Nick, David, and Roger move into an apartment with David’s friend. ⌝

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5

★ Love on the Air - David Gilmour x reader

⌞David was looking for love / Like the very first time /Didn't realize love never left him. ⌝

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

★ Take It Back - David Gilmour x Reader

⌞He’s lied to her, he’s spied on her, and made promises he couldn’t keep. But then she finally breaks, and David isn’t sure where to go from here, but through the uncertainty, he always knew deep down that she’d take it back someday. ⌝

1 ONESHOT

★ This Means War, Roger - Roger Waters x Reader

⌞“You love me.” You teased. You hadn’t really meant anything by it but as soon as you said it you blushed. Roger glanced at you and shook his head. “What’s it like being a delusional bitch?” Roger asked just loud enough for you to hear him. You glared at him. That was the relationship between you and Roger, arch enemies from the moment you laid eyes on each other. But what if secretly Roger finds himself falling in love with you even if he says he hates you?⌝

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 CHAPTER 6

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

ℚ𝕌𝔼𝔼ℕ

★ Don't Take Me for Granted - Roger Taylor x reader

⌞S*x with Roger is so.... boring? It's just that you've come to expect it almost nightly, and that's not any fun, or that's what you thought a month ago, now you'd do anything for him to touch you. ⌝

1 ONESHOT - NSFW!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

𝕋𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕊 𝔽𝕆ℝ 𝔽𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕊

★ Just, Just Wasting Time - Roland Orzabal x Reader

⌞Salem Morove is in need of a knight in shining armor or perhaps an English boy destined to become a star? Either way, she’s desperate to get out of an abusive relationship and finally find her soulmate even in the midst of loss and chaos. ⌝

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

𝕄𝔼𝔾𝔸𝔻𝔼𝕋ℍ

★ Had Enough of Me Yet? - Dave Mustaine

1 ONESHOT - NSFW!

𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖 - ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 5

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

So as it turns out groceries are expensive and the Floyd have bottomless pits for stomachs. Of course Roger chose ingredients to make more than one meal and David added a few miscellaneous things such as cereal and bread but when the idea of an oyster dinner came up all three of them got excited.

“Oysters and beer!” Nick cheered as Roger pushed the cart to the seafood section.

“Seriously after this we’ve got to check out otherwise we won't have enough for rent. And DON'T think that I'm paying for all of this myself!” Roger snapped. For once he was right, you had at least $300 in groceries for the four of you but it wasn’t going to be cheap to keep three grown men fed.

“How about these, they are close to the expiration date but that means that they are cheaper and if we eat them tonight we might not die from food poisoning.” David said, holding up a package of oysters. Roger nodded and David balanced the package on the pile of cans and boxes.

Moving carefully to the registers, you and David pulled out checkbooks and totaled up how much you would each need to pay to split the cost.

“So I have the most in my account so I’ll write the check but each of you will have to write me checks to pay me back.” The cashier gives you the total of $350 and you pay as the boys carry the bags.

“You each owe me $87.50.” You grumble.

“Right, right we'll get it to you when we get home.” Roger says and puts the bags into the small trunk.

“So do you guys not hang out with Rick or…?” The question breaks the silence on the ride home. Roger is sitting in the backseat with you again with his coochie out in the breeze. It was funny that he was so insistent on “stopping the funny business” between you and Nick, yet here he was with his legs spread further than you had ever seen any man spread. You knew he was just doing it to annoy you, but what if…what if he was jealous?! It was a dumb thought but maybe he was in love with Nick!!

“He doesn't contribute anything to the band so I kicked him out.” Roger said simply.

“Oh, well do you at least go see him? I mean wouldn’t it have been easier to let him move in with you guys instead of a girl?” I notice David and Nick tense up from the front seat. Clearly I struck a nerve but what could possibly be so bad about Rick that would make them all upset?

“Rick is………a FREAK.” Roger says looking out the window a bit uncomfortably.

“Huh? Like he's a weird guy?” I try to make eye contact with Roger but he's avoiding looking at me.

“Oh you stupid, naive child.” Roger shudders and finally looks me in the eye. “Rick is a bit like you in the sense that he enjoys funny business a bit too much. And considering that I kicked him out of the band I doubt we’re on good terms anyway.” I nod along to what Roger is saying despite the uneasy feeling it gives me as if at any moment I could be banished like Rick. It was probably in my best interest to get on Roger's good side, if he even had one, so that I can continue living with them.

“Roger, it's not a big deal what Rick does. I mean we all like women and he was our keyboardist after all.” David says from the driver's seat.

“Well he's not here and it's my band.” Roger huffs. He takes a cigarette out of his pocket and rolls the window down. You sit in silence wanting to talk to Nick but everyone seems on edge and you don't want to get kicked out of another car.

It was difficult carrying the groceries upstairs to the apartment but with two trips between the four of you all of the bags finally made it to the little kitchen where you all began to unpack the food you got. Roger carefully stacked things into the freezer while you and Nick sorted the food that needed to go to the fridge and the pantry, giving the pantry food to David to put away.

“Hey Y/N, I’ll write to you to check real quick.” David says, pulling out a pen and his checkbook.

“$87.50 right?” He asks. You nod and he writes it out and gives it to you.

“Here's mine too. We’ve gotta get some cash so that we don't waste checks.” Roger says handing the thin check paper to you.

“Right, well I’ll cash them in the morning.” You grab your new mouse doll and go to your room to put the papers in your lockbox.

“Hey…….I've only got $70 in my account.” Nick's soft voice says from his side of the room.

“Oh um, well when are you getting paid?” He looks away like he's embarrassed and holds his little checkbook in his lap pathetically.

“Being a musician and all, I'm not sure. Hopefully we’ll have a lot of money when we finish the album.” You stand near your bed awkwardly. You needed the money back for rent but you knew that money was tight for all of you so it wouldn't be fair to get upset with him.

“I could pay you some other way.” Nick smirks. Suddenly the mouse plushie comes hurling towards his head.

“Hey!” He pouts as it bounces off his brown curls. “I’m serious Y/N I dont have any money. I guess….I guess i'll get it somehow okay. Just please give me a few days and when I’m rich I’ll buy you anything you want I promise. He stands up from the bed and wraps his arms around your waist. “I meant what I said about being your boyfriend though I’d like to be more someday.”

I smile despite being annoyed about our finances. “That would be just divine.”

𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖 - ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 4

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You woke up sometime around lunch in Nicks arms. He was warm and cuddly that you almost went back to sleep, but then Roger burst through the door.

”I see the two of you are awfully cozy.” He teased. You rolled your eyes and sat up.

“You better be glad that David hasn’t caught you two together yet.”

“Why would David have a problem with us being together?” I asked. Roger just shook his head vaguely.

”What did you come in here for anyway Roger?” Nick spat.

“I was just coming to tell you two lovebirds that David  and I are going grocery shopping and he wanted to know if you two wanted to come with us.” Roger hissed through clenched teeth. You looked at Nick and then told Roger that you would be done getting ready in a few minutes.

When you were done getting ready, you and Nick met the other two boys at the end of the staircase.

”Took you long enough.” Roger bitched.

”Shut your pie hole Rog!” You pushed past him.

“Morning David!” You hadn’t spoken to David since the movie as he had been asleep when Roger had thrown you and Nick out on the side of the road.

“Morning Y/N!” He said cheerily.

The four of you pilled back into the car. This time Roger sat in the backseat to prevent and “funny business”.  You sat next to him miserably. Of course he also just had to manspread his legs which took up all of the room.

”Ugh Roger. Do you have to sit with your pussy facing the world? Can’t you sit like a lady?” Roger glared at you and spread his legs out further.

When you finally got to the grocery store you practically fell out on to the asphalt and kissed the ground. It was awful sitting next to Roger in such a small car.

There wasn’t any shopping carts near the door so you all watched David duck under the plastic flaps and struggle to get a cart loose from the others. All of you cheered and welcomed him back when he finally emerged from the shopping cart cave.

Roger assumed the role of pushing the cart while you and David searched for the things on your list. Nick trailed behind looking a little sad.

”Are you okay Nick?” You asked him. He nodded and kept walking. You frowned and came up behind him to give him a hug.

Meanwhile David had found the cage full of stuffed animals and was happily poking them.

”You’ll never find a home looking like that.” He whispered to an ugly little mouse doll.

“That’s mean David!” You scolded. Nick reached his hand between the rubber wires that held the dolls in the cage and pulled out the mouse doll.

”For you M’lady.” He made the little doll kiss your cheek before putting it in the shopping cart.

”Oh come on Nick we haven’t got the money to be buying ugly rat dolls.” Roger whined.

”Well we didn’t have the money to go see the new Monty Python movie either.” Nick hissed. He then wrapped his arm around your waist.

”Besides, we’ll get rich soon and then I can buy whatever I want for Y/N.” You blushed.

”Wait are you two…” David stared at the two of you in confusion. You both just nodded in embarrassment.

”What did you expect David, they share a room. Besides you missed out on all of the snogging they were doing in the backseat last night.” David gave Roger a confused look.

”Yeah and he kicked us out on the side of the road!” Nick interjected.

”Roger! What if they got kidnapped!?” David looked as if her were about ready to hit Roger.

”Well they didn’t.” Roger huffed and pushed the cart down another aisle.

“It’s fine David, me and Nick were warned that there would be consequences but Nicks just too handsome to resist.” You giggled.

”Well I’m just glad that both of you made it home safely.” You followed Roger to the produce section, and then to the freezers with meat, and even to the aisle with all of the bread. It was terribly boring.

”Rogerrrrr,” you whined, “can I please ride in the buggy?” Roger shot you a dirty look over his shoulder.

“I didn’t know we brought a two year old with us.” You rolled your eyes at Roger.

“You can ride on my back if you’d like.” Nick offered. You gladly hopped on his back and giggled. Roger just glared at the two of you and pretended like he wasn’t with you while David had wandered off to the seafood section.

“Why don’t you get a room.” He spat.

”Why can’t you ever be happy Roger?”

The rest of the shopping trip was spent instigating arguments with Roger and riding on Nicks back.

“Ohhh Nick look at that cute baby over there!” You whisper-shouted.

”You can’t have one of those Y/N, not yet anyway.” Nick said.

”Well I know that. I haven’t even got a boyfriend yet.”

”Maybe I could be your boyfriend.” Nick whispered just loud enough for you to hear him. You smiled and buried your face in his beautiful hair.

”I’d love that Nick.”

𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖 - ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 3

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You stood there in the dark, on the side of the interstate and drunk no less. You watched as Roger sped away into the night.

“What should we do?” You asked the equally lost and drunk Nick.

“Our best bet would probably be to hitchhike home.” You nodded and clung to his arm. This was not a good situation, you could get run over or worse yet, get kidnapped. At least you would be with Nick.

Nick walked to the edge of the road and stuck out his thumb. After a while a truck driver pulled over. The driver was a large man who looked like he didn’t shower often. Nick gave him one of his award winning smiles.

”We’re hoping to get a ride to the next exit.” Nick said to the driver. He grunted and pointed to the sleeping area of the truck.

“You and your wife can sit back there. But no funny business!” Nick glanced at you but didn’t correct the man.

”Alright, we really appreciate it.” Nick helped you into the truck and you both sat down. It smelled rancid in the truck and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the little hula dancing girl on the dashboard.

The next exit wasn’t far off but you and Nick couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. What started as a playful kiss on the cheek quickly turned more heated and the next thing you knew both you and Nick were being thrown out of yet another vehicle.

“Well that went south quick.” Nick began to laugh.

”It’s not funny!” You scolded but you were laughing too.

”I’m gonna kill Roger when we get home!” You both went to the edge of the road again and got another vehicle to pull over. This time it was a small grey car with an old man and an old woman.

”We were hoping you could take us to the Serene Meadows apartment complex.” You cringed at the name. It sounded like a retirement home.

“Oh Darrel,” the old woman nearly cried,” we have to help this nice couple!” Darrel raised a very bushy eyebrow at the two of you.

”The’re probably a bunch of crackhead hippies Martha.” Well he wasn’t exactly wrong but you still gave Martha a hopeful glance.

“We were once young and in love Derral.” The old woman reminded her husband.

“Alright. Get in the fucking car. But no funny business!” You and Nick eagerly climbed into the backseat of the car, making sure to leave room for Jesus this time.

The car smelled better. A little like cats and cigarette smoke but that was to be expected.

The old man drove you to the apartment complex and you and Nick scrambled out before he could ask for any money. Both of you were now sober, awake and ready to gorge out Rogers eyes. You unlocked the door and found Roger drunk on the couch.

“Roger! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I WANT TO HURT YOU RIGHT NOW!” You yelled at him. Roger just rolled his eyes.

”I told the both of you not to be making out in the car. It’s your own fault you got stranded on the interstate.” Roger said without ever looking at you. He just sat on the sad little couch and wrote in his black book of poems.

“Both of you are just bricks in the wall.” He mumbled.

”What?” You asked but Roger got up and went to his room.

”He’s full of it.” Nick whispered in you ear. Now come on we’ve had an eventful night and I think it’s time we go to bed.” You both took turns using the shower and you brushed your teeth together.

”Goodnight.” Nick said and kissed your forehead. He had insisted on tucking you in so that the blankets were wrapped tightly around you. “Just like my mum used to do it.” He had said.

”Goodnight Nick.”

You tried your best to sleep but you were woken up by the sound of thunder. You hated thunder because it made you feel vulnerable and well scared. Quickly untangling yourself from the blankets, you rushed to Nicks bed.

“Nick wake up!” You shook him a little.

”Wha-?” Nick groaned and rubbed his eyes. “What’s wrong Y/N?” You looked down at your feet in shame.

”I-I’m scarred of thunder and I was hoping I could sleep with you in your bed.” Way to go Y/N, now he thinks you’re some helpless child.

”Sure you can.” Nick said you your surprise. You grinned and got under the blankets with him.

𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖 - ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 2

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

In all honesty none of you really had the money to be wasting on movie tickets, but all of the boys were huge fans of Monty Python so they were willing to splurge a little.

”Hey Y/N.” David whispered to you as you got out of the car. “Can I put some beers and candy in your purse?” He held up a few drinks and bags of candy. Nick and Roger were already stuffing some stuff into their coats.

”Sure.” You took the snacks and emptied out most of your purse into the backseat to make room for the beer cans.

“You sure have a lot of stuff in your bag.” Nick commented. He sifted through the contents that now laid on the seat.

“What’s that?” Nick asked, pointing to a little pink package that was neatly folded. You blushed and snatched it away from him.

”It’s uhhh tissues!” Roger saw what happened and started laughing. You could tell by the grin on Nicks face that he had also just been teasing you.

”It’s not nice to go through a lady’s purse!” You scolded.

”Well all of your stuff isn’t in your purse now is it?” Roger snapped. He really was an ass, just like David said.

Once all of you had stuffed food into your clothes and bags you headed into the theater and bought tickets. It was surprisingly empty but you and the three boys decided to sit in the seats that were assigned to you on your tickets.

“At least no one is around to tattle on us for sneaking beer in the theater.” David commented as he pulled a can out of his pants leg.

You sat down between Nick and Roger. It was kind of like in the cartoons when the little devil and the little angle sit on either side of you. Nick being the angel of course.

The movie started and all of you settled into a silence. About halfway through you felt something lightly grab your leg. You nearly jumped out of your seat but then you realized it was on my Nick. Your face instantly began to turn red. Why was he grabbing your leg? Was he making a move? Did he like you?! The internal screaming and confusion was quickly put to rest when Nick asked, “could I have a beer from your purse?”

You squeaked out a yes and handed one to him. He smiled and turned his attention back to the movie. However, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was just so….cute and nice. You hoped that no one could tell that you were blushing.

When the movie was over Roger cheered and clapped. All of you left the theater with Roger being the only sober one since the rest of you had deemed him the designated driver.

”It’s alright, I need to be sober to enjoy this movie.” He had said.

You all piled back into the car. You and Nick were once again in the dark backseat and David was asleep in the front seat. Roger turned on the radio band drove home. You stared out the window and tried to keep your mind off Nick.

”That was a really good movie huh.” Nick said. Scooting closer to you in the backseat.

”Y-yeah it was.” You hoped he didn’t notice your nervousness.

“I’m sorry if I scared you when I asked for a beer.” He laughed a little.

“Oh it’s fine.” You felt your face getting closer to Nicks. You were both so close to each other that you could feel the warmth of his body.

”Could I uh…kiss you?” Nick whispered so Roger wouldn’t hear.

”S-sure.” You leaned in closer and kissed him. You were both drunk so you weren’t really sure if he would remember this tomorrow morning, but it felt good.

You both pulled away before Roger could notice and tease you about it.

“That was nice.” Nick gave you a cute smile.

”Don’t think I didn’t see that.” Roger said over his shoulder. Damn it.

“Anymore funny business and I’ll kick you out of this car.” Roger threatened. You and Nick both giggled and kissed again.

”That’s it!” Roger pulled over and started yelling for you to get out of the car.

So here you are now, on the side of the interstate, in the dark, with the really cute drummer of Pink Floyd. 

𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖 - ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 1

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Standing in front of the apartment building you let out a dramatic sigh. Carrying all of your stuff up the stairs all morning because the elevator was broken had proved to be quite stressful.

Your friend David had asked you to move in his apartment with him and two of his band mates since they were all quite broke and splitting the rent four ways would be cheaper on everyone. David had been a good friend of yours for years now, and you really needed a cheap place to live. You hadn’t met David’s band mates so all you knew about them were that their names were Roger, Nick and Rick but Rick wouldn’t be living with you.

“Roger’s a bit of an arse.” David explained.  “But Nick is easy to get along with so you don’t have to worry about him.”

You sighed again and picked up the heavy box you had been carrying through the parking lot. It had a variety of things that you thought would be necessary to bring.

“Ugh!” The box tumbled from your hands and fell to the asphalt.

“Let me help you with that!” A man with dark brown hair and a mustache to match ran over to where you had dropped your box.

“That’s quite a heavy box for just one person to be carrying.” He flashed you a cute smile and helped you pick up the box.

“I’m Nick by the way, Nick Mason.”

“Oh are you David’s band mate by any chance?” You remembered David saying that one of the guys you would be living with was named Nick.

“That’s right, you must be Y/N.” David was right, Nick was very friendly. The two of you carefully hauled the big box up the stairs to your apartment.

“It’s sort of a suite if you know what I mean. A living room and kitchen that connects with two bedrooms that have their own bathroom and two beds.” Nick tried his best to explain. “Well I guess I could just show you.” He took out a key and unlocked the door.

The apartment was exactly like what Nick had described. It was a bit sad looking but at least it came with a microwave and a small fridge. David and Roger had already arrived and started to unpack their stuff. They had chosen the room on the left side of the living room.

“Guess we’re sharing a room then.” Nick laughed awkwardly.

“That’s alright, David said Roger wasn’t all that friendly.” You said under your breath only loud enough for Nick to hear. Nick grinned and slid the box into your new room. It too was just as empty as the living room. There were two beds on either side of the room and a small bathroom.

“I call the bed near the window!” Nick said and flopped down on the bare mattress. You rolled your eyes and scooted the box near your bed. Opening it up you pulled out some blankets and sheets to put on the bed.

“Hey Y/N.” David said. He leaned in the doorway and watched you struggle to find the edges of the sheets.

“Hey David.” You turned to look at him. Behind him was a tall man with a rather interesting face.

“This is Roger, and I’m assuming you’ve already met Nick.”

“Yeah, he helped me carry some stuff in.” Nick smiled proudly to himself.

“Well I’m going to go get the rest of my stuff. I guess you can introduce yourself to these two.” You looked between Roger and Nick. They seemed alright, although Roger was a bit scary looking.

“So you guys are in a band.” You tried to make conversation.

“That’s right, it’s called Pink Floyd.” Roger informed you.

“David hadn’t told me a whole lot about you guys if I’m being honest.”

“Well he sort of uh…replaced our former lead singer, Syd.” Nick said.

“He was having a lot of issues with drug abuse and we were having a hard time working with him.”

“No hard feelings though.” Nick quickly added.

“Anyway, like David said I’m Roger the bassist. I also sing sometimes.” Roger struck you as a bit arrogant but you had expected that.

“I play the drums.” Nick said but he didn’t seem all that full of himself.

“Do you play any instruments Y/N?” Nick asked you. Roger had wandered off back to his room to unpack.

“I play piano but not much else.”

“Maybe I could teach you how to play the drums sometime.” You thought about it a moment.

“Maybe.” You giggled.

Nick had brought a suitcase but not much else. He had also packed a small box that he shoved under the bed.

“What’s that? If you don’t mind me asking.” Nick blushed a little and pulled the box out from under the bed.

“It’s um…..my hot wheels collection.” He opened the box to reveal a large collection of hot wheels.

“That’s so cool!” You plopped down on the floor next to him and looked at all of the cars.

“I use to love hot wheels cars.” You said excitedly.

“Really!?” Nick had the biggest smile on his face.

“Yeah, but I lost them all. You know moving around and all.”

“Well Ive been collecting them for years. It’s just embarrassing to have toys at my age don’t you think?”

“No not at all.” You gave him a reassuring smile.

“I think we’re going to be very good friends Y/N.”

After you and Nick had put all of the toy cars back, David burst in.

“Let’s go out and do something!” He exclaimed.

“Like what?” Nick asked.

“Let’s go see the new Monty Python movie!” Roger yelled from across the living room.

You all excitedly climbed into David’s car and drove to the theater. David and Roger were in the front and you and Nick sat in the back.

“Should we pick up Rick?” Nick asked.

“Nahhh.” Roger said.

So poor Rick didn’t get to go.

Meanwhile Nick admired the night sky through the car window. And you found yourself admiring Nick. He had the cutest nose and his hair looked so soft in the moonlight.

Wait! Why were you looking at Nick like that!? You had just met him. But…he was really cute you had to admit. Not to mention that he had been so sweet to you today. You thought back to what he had said earlier, “I think we’re going to be very good friends Y/N.” Right, just friends.

John Deacon!

Just a silly Bill and Ted headcannon because I love transmasc Bill. I think he started doing the over the top voice to help his voice sound more masculine and Ted started doing it too so people would think that’s just how they both talked.

My first digital art drawing in almost a year. Please accept my offering tlb fandom