𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥, 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 - ℝ𝕠𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕

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

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

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕣, ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 - ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⫘READ MORE⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 YOU ARE HERE

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 CHAPTER 6

ℍ𝕒𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕄𝕖 𝕐𝕖𝕥? - 𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

ONESHOT - NSFW!

Warnings: VERY NSFW ONESHOT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You want one?" You asked Dave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"P-please Dave."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Had enough of me yet?"

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

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.”

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.

OCCULTSTARR MASTERLIST

·:༺ ♱✮♱ ༻:·

ℙ𝕀ℕ𝕂 𝔽𝕃𝕆𝕐𝔻

★ Divine - Nick Mason x reader

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

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5

★ Love on the Air - David Gilmour x reader

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

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

★ Take It Back - David Gilmour x Reader

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

1 ONESHOT

★ This Means War, Roger - Roger Waters x Reader

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

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 CHAPTER 6

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ℚ𝕌𝔼𝔼ℕ

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

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

1 ONESHOT - NSFW!

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𝕋𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕊 𝔽𝕆ℝ 𝔽𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕊

★ Just, Just Wasting Time - Roland Orzabal x Reader

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

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

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𝕄𝔼𝔾𝔸𝔻𝔼𝕋ℍ

★ Had Enough of Me Yet? - Dave Mustaine

1 ONESHOT - NSFW!

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.”