Occultstarr - Ambrose

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.

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1 YOU ARE HERE

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 CHAPTER 6

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕆𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕚𝕣 - 𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕕 𝔾𝕚𝕝𝕞𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 1

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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.

𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥, 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 - ℝ𝕠𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕆𝕣𝕫𝕒𝕓𝕒𝕝 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 1

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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.”

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

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕚𝕣 - 𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕕 𝔾𝕚𝕝𝕞𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 2

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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.

𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖 - ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 5

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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 1

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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.

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

𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥, 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 - ℝ𝕠𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕆𝕣𝕫𝕒𝕓𝕒𝕝 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 2

TW!: child death / miscarriage / blood

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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.”

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

ONESHOT - NSFW!

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“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.”