OCCULTSTARR MASTERLIST

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.

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.”

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.

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.”

𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕀𝕥 𝔹𝕒𝕔𝕜 - 𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕕 𝔾𝕚𝕝𝕞𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

ONESHOT

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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.

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 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

𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖 - ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 4

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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.”

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.”

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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.

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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

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1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 YOU ARE HERE

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 CHAPTER 6