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wonderlanddreamer · 2 months

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Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary - The high you get from drugs is nothing compared to the high you get from Eddie Munson.

Warnings - 18+ Only. Drug use. Explicit Sexual Content. Intense Sensory Experiences. Consensual Intimacy Under Influence. MDNI.

Word Count - 3246

The flickering neon lights of Eddie’s makeshift sanctuary in the trailer park cast a kaleidoscope of colours across the room, blending seamlessly with the thin, curling wisps of smoke emanating from the joint loosely held between his fingers. The air was thick with the scent of marijuana, creating a hazy veil that softened the edges of reality.

The room itself was a dimly lit haven, a cocoon of muted hues and muffled sounds that provided a perfect escape from the relentless, harsh realities of Hawkins. On the walls, vibrant posters of iconic metal bands like Metallica, Iron Maiden, and Judas Priest proudly displayed their rebellious spirit, their edges curling slightly from the humidity and time. Each poster told a story of defiance, passion, and a love for music that transcended the mundane.

Scattered across the room, an eclectic mix of knick-knacks cluttered the shelves, each item seemingly random yet holding a personal significance to Eddie. A worn-out Dungeons & Dragons manual lay open on the table, its pages marked with notes and sketches from countless campaigns. A collection of vintage vinyl records stacked haphazardly in one corner, their covers worn but their contents treasured, added to the room's nostalgic charm.

The centrepiece of Eddie's sanctuary was an old, beat-up leather couch, its cushions sunken in from years of use but still providing a comforting embrace. A faded tapestry hung behind it, depicting a fantastical scene of dragons and wizards, adding to the room's chaotic yet magical ambiance. String lights, intertwined with the neon signs, draped across the ceiling, casting a gentle, almost dreamlike glow over the space.

This sanctuary, though chaotic in appearance, was a testament to Eddie's spirit—a blend of rebellion, creativity, and a longing for something beyond the mundane. Here, amidst the haze and the flickering lights, he could lose himself in his thoughts, music, and dreams, finding solace in the chaos he had come to call home.

"Here," Eddie said, passing the joint to you with a devilish grin, his eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and challenge. The neon lights cast a shifting glow across his face, accentuating the wild, untamed mane of hair that framed his features. He looked every bit the troublemaker everyone warned you about, but there was something undeniably magnetic about him—a whirlwind of rebellious energy that drew you in like a moth to a flame.

You hesitated for a moment, your gaze locking onto his. Those mischievous eyes seemed to see right through you, past the façade you wore for the world. Eddie Munson was trouble, that much was clear, but tonight, trouble felt like exactly what you needed. The weight of reality had been pressing down on you, and the promise of escape, even if just for a few hours, was too tempting to resist.

"Why not," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you took the joint from his hand. The moment it touched your lips, you felt a rush of anticipation. Inhaling deeply, the smoke filled your lungs, spreading a warmth through your chest that was both foreign and exhilarating. You exhaled slowly, watching the wisps of smoke curl and dance in the air before dissipating.

The sensation was immediate, a buzzing in your head that made the world around you soften and blur. The sharp edges of reality dulled, replaced by a comforting haze that seemed to wrap you in a gentle embrace. You sank deeper into the worn-out couch, the fabric rough and frayed under your fingertips, a stark contrast to the softness enveloping your mind.

Eddie chuckled, the sound rich and comforting in the otherwise silent night. It was a laugh that spoke of shared secrets and unspoken understanding. "See? Not so bad, right?" he said, his voice tinged with a playful yet reassuring tone.

"Yeah," you agreed, the words slipping out slower and more languid than you intended. Your mind felt as though it was floating, untethered and free. "Not so bad."

Eddie leaned back, his own head resting against the couch, eyes half-closed in contentment. The room was a symphony of muted colours and sounds, a perfect backdrop for this moment of shared escape. The flickering neon lights continued their dance, casting shifting shadows that seemed to move in time with the music softly playing from an old cassette player in the corner.

Minutes, or maybe hours—time seemed to lose its grip—passed in a blissful blur. The haze of smoke and the gentle hum of a barely audible heavy metal track playing in the background created an ethereal atmosphere, where reality and fantasy intermingled seamlessly, the sense of euphoria lingered, wrapping itself around the two of you like a comforting blanket.

But soon, the effects of the weed hit you harder than you had anticipated. What had started as a gentle buzz of euphoria quickly morphed into an overwhelming sensation that gripped you with surprising intensity. The room, once a comforting cocoon of dim colours and soft sounds, began to distort and spin, as if the very walls were closing in on you.

The neon lights, previously a source of ambient charm, now seemed to take on a life of their own. They pulsed rhythmically, synchronising with the frantic beat of your heart. Each flash of colour felt like a jolt to your senses, amplifying the dizziness that was steadily washing over you. You couldn't latch onto a single coherent idea, each one slipping through your mental grasp like sand through fingers. The warmth that had spread through your chest turned into a heavy weight, pressing down and making it difficult to breathe.

"Eddie," you whispered, your voice trembling and tinged with panic. "I don't feel so good."

Without a moment's hesitation, Eddie was at your side, his carefree demeanour evaporating and replaced by genuine concern. His mischievous grin was gone, replaced by a furrowed brow and earnest eyes. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he said softly, his voice a soothing contrast to the cacophony in your head. "Just breathe."

His presence was grounding, a lifeline in the midst of your spiralling thoughts. Eddie gently placed his hands on your shoulders, guiding you to lie down on the couch. His touch was reassuring, each movement deliberate and careful, as if he were handling something fragile. You focused on the rough calluses on his fingers, a testament to countless hours spent mastering the guitar. The familiarity of it offered a small but significant anchor.

"You're gonna be fine," Eddie assured, his voice steady and calm. "Just close your eyes and breathe with me, okay?"

You did as he said, focusing on the rhythm of his breath. Slowly, the panic subsided, replaced by a comforting warmth that spread from where his hand rested on your arm. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest next to you, grounding you in the moment.

"Thank you," you mumbled, your voice still shaky but filled with genuine gratitude. A warm wave of thankfulness washed over you, momentarily easing the remnants of your discomfort. "You're really sweet, you know that?"

Eddie chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the air, making it feel a bit lighter. His eyes, warm and sincere, locked with yours, creating a moment of unspoken understanding. "Don't let that get around," he said with a teasing glint in his eyes, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I have a reputation to maintain."

A comfortable silence settled between you, the air thick with unspoken words. Your mind, still hazy, drifted to thoughts of Eddie—the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, the way he always seemed to know how to make you feel better. You noticed the small scar above his eyebrow, a remnant of a long-forgotten skateboard accident, and the way his smile lines deepened when he was genuinely happy.

Before you knew it, you were leaning in, your lips brushing against his in a tentative kiss. Eddie froze for a moment, surprise flickering in his eyes before he responded, his kiss gentle and slow. His lips were soft, a stark contrast to the rough exterior he often displayed.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice husky as he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. His breath was warm against your skin, mingling with the lingering scent of smoke.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yes. I've never been more sure of anything."

With that, the last of the barriers between you crumbled. He took your hand and ledEddie's kisses became more insistent, his hands roving over your body with a mix of urgency and tenderness.

He guided you to his bed, the sheets rumpled and smelling faintly of his cologne. As you lay back, Eddie's fingers traced intricate, delicate patterns on your skin, each touch sending electrifying shivers down your spine. His hands moved with a slow, deliberate grace, as if he were committing every inch of you to memory. His touch felt electrifying, each caress sending waves of exaggerated pleasure through your heightened senses.

He took his time, his fingertips brushing gently along your arms, then down to your sides, and finally across your back. Time seemed to stretch and warp, each moment lingering as if you were moving in slow motion. The reverence in his touch was palpable, each caress imbued with a depth of feeling that words could scarcely capture. It was as though he was discovering you anew, with an unspoken vow to cherish every moment, every sensation.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion and awe. The words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. His breath was warm against your ear, sending another wave of shivers cascading through you. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

His admission was like a key turning in a lock, opening a door to a shared vulnerability that neither of you had dared to breach before. You felt a rush of warmth, a mixture of relief and joy that settled in your chest.

“Me too,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the weight of your own emotions. Your fingers found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft, unruly strands. The sensation of his hair slipping through your fingers was a tangible connection that anchored you in the moment. “I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Though the drugs had you floating, it was Eddie who truly had you soaring. You lay beneath him on his bed, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he clasped your hands above your head. His kisses were tender, his lips trailing down your body and brushing against your skin as he eagerly cast your clothes aside. Your body responded instinctively, arching into his touch, begging for more. You found yourself hyper-focused on the small details, like the texture of his skin the way his breath felt against your neck.

You could hardly think straight, the world around you a blur of colours and sensations. But Eddie, oh Eddie, he was the one clear thing in your mind. Your breath hitched as his lips worked their magic, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your fingers intertwined with his, holding on like he was your lifeline. "Eddie..." you whispered, voice trembling with need. Every touch, every kiss, sent shivers down your spine, making your body respond to him instinctively.

Eddie's eyes met yours, a mix of desire and tenderness reflecting in them. "I've got you," he murmured, his voice a husky promise against your skin. His kisses grew more urgent, yet still so gentle, as if he was savouring every moment, every inch of you. Your breaths came quicker, your body aching for his touch, for the connection that seemed to electrify the air between you.

You felt his hands slide down your sides, taking their time, memorising every curve. The intensity of his gaze made you feel seen, wanted, in a way you had never felt before. Eddie’s hands moved with a careful, deliberate tenderness as he began to remove your clothes. His fingers traced the outline of your collarbone before gently slipping under the fabric of your shirt, lifting it over your head. His eyes never left yours, filled with a mix of desire and deep affection, as he continued to undress you, each piece of clothing falling away to reveal the vulnerability and trust that existed between you.

With practised ease, Eddie then began to remove his own clothes, his eyes locked onto yours, never breaking the connection. He peeled away his shirt, revealing the contours of his chest, and kicked off his jeans with a casual flick. In those brief moments, the space between you seemed to buzz with anticipation of what was to come.

"Eddie, please..." you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as the world narrowed down to just the two of you. He paused, just for a moment, to look into your eyes, his own filled with a mixture of love and raw need. "I need you," you confessed, feeling vulnerable but safe under his gaze.

Eddie's smile was soft, yet filled with a promise. "I'm right here," he reassured, his lips capturing yours once more, sealing the promise with a kiss that left you breathless. His body moved against yours, the world outside disappearing as you surrendered to the intoxicating sensation of his touch.

Eddie's skin pressed against yours as he positioned himself, his tip teasing your entrance. He took the joint from his bedside table and rested it between his lips, taking a long drag before he took it from his mouth and offered it to you, which you accepted eagerly. After you took a drag, he placed the joint in the ashtray beside his bed and let his body sink down on top of yours.

As Eddie's weight settled back on top of you, you exhaled, the smoke curling around his face. Your eyes locked, the connection between you deepening, unspoken words and promises passing in the silence. "Eddie," you whispered, your voice breathless but certain, your heart pounding in sync with his.

A smirk played on his lips, his eyes dark with desire as he positioned himself once more, his tip teasing your entrance, heightening the anticipation. "You’re mine," he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. His hands found yours again, fingers intertwining around yours as he pinned your hands above your head.

Eddie's eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, he entered you with a slow, deliberate thrust, his breath hitching as he felt you envelop him. The initial sensation was a mix of tenderness and intensity, your bodies adjusting to one another in a perfect, intimate dance.

Each subsequent thrust was measured and deep, a rhythm that spoke of both passion and control. Eddie's movements were fluid yet powerful, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His hips rolled with a practised grace, driving deeper and harder with every motion.

The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this shared moment of ecstasy. Your breaths synchronised, mingling in the air between you, each thrust drawing a soft moan from your lips. Eddie's pace quickened, the intensity building as he pushed you both closer to the edge.

"Oh fuck," you gasped, your voice a mix of plea and gratitude, every touch, one that transcended the physical and touched the very core of your being.

As the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak, your body trembled beneath Eddie's, every nerve ending alight with anticipation. His hands tightened around yours with possessive urgency, his breath hot and ragged against your lips. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the connection between you deepening with every movement.

"Eddie,I’m gonna…" you gasped, your voice filled with desperate need. He responded with a deep, primal groan, his pace quickening ever so slightly, the intensity of the moment swelling around you. You could feel the tension coiling within you, ready to snap, and you knew he was right there with you.

Eddie's rhythm became more urgent, his thrusts faster and deeper, driving you both towards an inevitable, explosive release. The air between you crackled with electricity, every nerve in your body attuned to the mounting pleasure. His breaths came in ragged gasps, mingling with your own, the sounds of your shared ecstasy filling the room.

Your body convulsed, waves of pleasure crashing over you, every muscle tightening and then releasing in an overwhelming rush. Eddie continued to move, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm, his own release following closely behind. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin as he found his own peak, a guttural groan escaping his lips.

For a few moments, the world was a blur of sensation, the two of you lost in the aftermath of your shared pleasure. Slowly, as your breathing steadied and your heart began to calm, Eddie loosened his grip on your hands, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You okay?" he asked, his voice tender and full of concern. You nodded, a contented smile spreading across your face.

"More than okay," you replied, your voice a soft murmur. Eddie's smile widened, and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Good," he said, his voice a soothing balm in the quiet room. He settled beside you, pulling you into his arms, the warmth and comfort of his embrace a perfect end to the intensity of your shared moment.

As the moments slipped by, you found yourselves wrapped in each other, the intensity of your earlier passion giving way to a serene, comforting intimacy. Eddie's fingers lazily trailed through your hair, his touch soothing and familiar.

"I'm really glad you're here," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble against your ear. "I mean, I’m always glad when you’re here, but tonight... It feels different. Better."

You smiled, your heart swelling with warmth. "It does," you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie's lips brushed against your forehead in a tender kiss, his breath warm against your skin. "I guess we both needed a little push," he said with a chuckle, reaching across her to grab the discarded, half smoked joint from the ash tray beside his bed. He rested it between his lips, sparking it to life with a steady inhale.

You shifted closer to him, your head resting on his chest. You could hear the steady beat of his heart, a comforting reminder of the connection you shared. "I always feel safe with you, Eddie," you admitted, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest. "Even when everything else feels out of control."

Eddie's arms tightened around you, his grip possessive yet gentle. "You're safe with me," he promised, his voice filled with sincerity. "Always."

The room was bathed in the soft glow of dawn, the first light of morning filtering through the curtains. The gentle illumination revealed the familiar outlines of Eddie's room—the cluttered desk strewn with scattered notebooks and D&D figurines, the posters of Iron Maiden and Metallica that adorned the walls, and the guitar propped up in the corner. Each detail was a vivid reflection of Eddie himself: chaotic, passionate, and full of life.

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lumosinlove · 8 months

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Vaincre

June part ii

Maybe Finn couldn’t play, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t gift himself fifteen minutes of watching Leo lay out on the mat and use a foam roller to stretch out his back.

“What you think you’re staring at?” Leo had his eyes closed, back arched over the roller, hands above his head. He’d turned the lights off for Finn’s sake.

“I don’t know, I think I might have a crush on you,” Finn said.

Leo laughed, a little out of breath as he bent his knees to moved the roller up near his shoulders. “Oh really?”

“Yep.” Finn adjusted his sling against his neck. “Pretty sure.”

“I thought you liked that Tremblay guy.”

“Who?”

Leo smiled and reached blinding for a resistance band to throw at him. “Stop your flirting. I’m trying to focus.”

Finn just rested his head back against the wall and grinned.

He should be more nervous. Game seven, enemy crowd, their entire season on the line. But it was different, being hurt and watching everyone else out on the ice. Something had gotten tangled, some tethers had twisted wrong, and suddenly there was a pane of glass between him and the game.

“Sorry,” Finn said. “Let me just reel in my adoration.”

Leo hummed and kept his eyes closed. He let out a breath when the roller hit a knot near his shoulder and kept it there, pressing down.

Finn let himself close his eyes for a few moments, too. He wasn’t sure when he would get the chance again without it looking, to any camera, like he’d fallen asleep watching the game. He could see the Instagram posts now, the tweets.

“Fish.”

“Yeah?”

He opened his eyes when Leo didn’t reply. Leo was staring up at the ceiling. The foam roller had become more of a neck pillow now and his hands were folded across the Lions logo on his sweatshirt.

“I’m scared,” Leo said softly.

Finn sat up. He looked hard in the dim room at Leo’s expression, but it wasn’t changing. He appeared calm. As calm as his voice sounded. These words—I’m scared—didn’t even sound small in his mouth. Finn would never have admitted to fear so easily, so cleanly. He—and Logan, he suspected—would have never let those words free on a day like today.

Finn pushed himself up from the wall and knelt across the mat until they were laying side by side on their backs. Leo ditched the roller and pushed their shoulders together.

“I don’t want it to be Logan,” Leo whispered. “I don’t want it to be Logan who gets through.”

Believe me, Finn thought to himself. I know.

“Who says anyone will?” he said aloud.

“Finn…”

“You’re so, so good, Le.”

“I—yes. I’m good but…”

“I know that doesn’t make Logan easier.”

Leo hesitated for a moment. “I almost thought it would be easier if we weren’t…if we weren’t on the best terms when this game happened. After the stuff about you and everything. I thought—I think maybe that’s why I was okay leaving without saying goodbye to him. Maybe part of me thought it would make this not so awful.”

And it was awful. They’d been trying not to call it that—who wanted to call reality awful?—but they missed Logan like air. And Finn, despite the concussion being minor, had been as terrified as everyone around him. And Jack had put pressure on them like an ocean current.

Finn watched the way one of the ceiling lights flickered. “Only Lo is one of the sweetest creatures.”

“Exactly.”

“God, he’s so nice to you, what a dick.”

Leo laughed and slapped him in the chest, avoiding his sling. Finn turned his head and found them nose to nose. He smiled at Leo’s smile and brushed the tips of their noses together.

“For the record, I think you’d be a truly insane person, not just a crazy goalie, if you weren’t nervous for a game seven.” He reached out his good hand and Leo put his own into it. “But you’ve done it before, baby. You’ve won it before.”

Leo nodded. His eyes darted around Finn’s face, as they sometimes did.

“Yes, I do have freckles, thanks for noticing.”

Leo laughed again and, with a groan, rolled into Finn’s side.

“Floor snuggles in the gym.”

Leo nodded closing his eyes. “Just for a second.”

Finn placed a kiss in Leo’s hair. “Wish I could have your back tonight. I really do.”

Leo picked his head up, hand on the lapel of Finn’s game-day suit. “You do. You always do. And you’re wearing the tie I bought you.”

“I am.”

“And you do look very nice in your suit.”

“Thanks, Butter.”

Leo groaned as he pushed himself to his knees, like he didn’t want to get up. “C’mere. Let me kiss your head Finn O’Hara.”

Finn laughed as Leo put his palms on each of Finn’s temples and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Why did you say my name like that?”

Leo bent farther and kissed Finn’s mouth quick. “Cause I got a wicked crush on you.”

The soft sound that came out of Finn’s mouth was was not one he recognized, somewhere between a laugh and a hum.

“Text me when you find Logan,” Leo said as he rose, then ducked out of the room to jog a few laps around the arena. Finn let himself lay on the floor for a moment, smiling, before getting up, too.

So, it wasn’t all bad, being with the team but not having to get ready for the game. He and Kasey sat in their stalls anyway, suits and all, and watched the locker room chaos. Sirius barely said a word to anyone besides Remus whenever he passed him by. He was locked in, and that sight was almost comforting. Finn could tell that it made the rest of the room feel more ready, too.

They had called up a kid named Hugo Holm as Leo’s back-up, and he looked like he was thinking about making a run for it. Leo didn’t seem to mind. He was being his usual, friendly self, but Finn could tell he was proud that he was the one keeping his cool.

Finn wandered around, too—he never could be still for long. MSG had interesting plaques on the walls. Famous concerts, famous athletes, and other celebrities who had made history there. He was stopped a few times by press, and once by Marlene who gave him his pass up to the players and families box to watch the game, but other than that, he kept his mind clear.

And looked for Logan.

He found Luke first. He was coming in from sitting out on the bench in his sweatpants and sweatshirt, blue-on-blue, and looked surprised to see Finn walking towards him.

Finn put his hands up. “I know, I know. Enemy territory. Just boyfriend-seeking.”

“It’s all good.” Luke took both of his AirPods out. “He’s probably—”

“About to sharpen his skates,” Finn said. Maybe he felt a little flare of competition. Luke was a good line-mate for Logan. He was. But he wasn’t Finn. “It’s that time of the evening.”

“Right.” Luke nodded. “You’d know.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, how’s the head?”

“Fine, thanks,” Finn said. “Third time’s a charm, right?”

Luke winced.

“Sorry.” Finn laughed. “That was supposed to be a joke.” He flexed his fingers on his sling side. “It’s really just this that needs to heal up, so. But at least I can take the sling off more now. Itches.”

“Right.”

This was awkward. This shouldn’t be so awkward. Finn wasn’t awkward, and yet here he and Luke Deveaux were, sizing each other up like they were on the ice.

“Well, glad about the head,” Luke said. He had ducked his chin a little and was fiddling with his phone in a way that, Finn realized, reminded him of Logan. “Um—”

“Thanks,” Finn heard himself blurt out.

Luke’s eyes darted back to his. “What? Oh, yeah. Sure.”

Finn shouldn’t feel competitive. He’d never thought of himself as jealous, but maybe that only applied to Leo.

“No, I mean…Thanks for Logan.”

Luke tilted his head. “What do you…”

“I mean, look, the trade was really…” Finn didn’t stumble over his words. Usually. Something about Luke’s intense steady gaze made him do that now, though. It was like trying to gauge Logan, in the early days at school. Trying to read what he was thinking. Finn took another breath. “It was hard. I’m just trying to say you sound really great. And he talks about you a lot. And I’m glad he has you. You know. Over on the dark side that is not Gryffindor.”

Luke had looked vaguely uncomfortable under the praise, but he cracked a smile. “The dark side, huh?”

“I said what I said.”

Luke smiled more fully and ducked his head again. “Well, that dark side’s gonna beat you thanks to your boyfriend—among other things.”

“We’ll see.”

Just then, Logan appeared from the Rangers locker room, on his way to the equipment room with his skates. He was wearing a backwards blue hat and a tight, gray undershirt that outlined every single muscle in his chest and stomach. He had a piece of rainbow sour strip candy dangling half out of his mouth.

Finn rubbed a hand against his jaw, trying to hide at least some of the shameless expression Luke must’ve seen on his face because he turned to look.

Logan did a double take, then broke into a grin.

“Un intrus,” Logan called around the candy.

“Whatever you say, 71,” Finn replied.

“Sirius, send happy emoji!” Logan shouted back, and Finn extended his slinged hand’s middle finger as he walked towards him.

He turned back to look at Luke. “Good game.”

Luke had a funny expression on his face, but he covered it with a brief smile. “He called you an intruder, by the way.”

“Oh, I bet he calls me all sorts of things.”

Luke just scoffed and put his headphones back in.

Finn didn’t see Logan as he entered the equipment room—he was typing out a quick text to Leo—until two hands grabbed his suit jacket and pushed him—gently, mindfully—up against the wall by the door.

“Wow,” Finn said, looking down into Logan’s green eyes. The candy was gone. “Hello there.”

“Stupid sling,” Logan said.

“I agree.”

Logan had deposited his skates near the sharpener and had his fingers in Finn’s hair, combing it back at the sides. “You come looking for me?”

“No, I wanted to get Luke to sign my chest.”

Logan made a face. “Shut up.” Then he kissed him. Sour-sweet. Finn let Logan take away the tension in his neck and jaw.

His green eyes were happy when he pulled back, if not a little tense. He was thinking about the game. He was still stroking Finn’s hair like he was trying to distract himself.

“You okay?” Finn asked softly, rubbing a hand down his side. Logan’s finger caught a slight knot and when Finn winced Logan switched to petting his good shoulder.

Logan pressed his lips together in a gesture that reminded Finn of Noelle. “Did you already text Leo?”

“You’re petting me like a dog.”

“You like it.”

“Well, damn, truce.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Sorry,” Finn said. “I can’t hear anything over your abs.”

Logan pinched his side. “Shh.”

“Of course I texted Leo. Did you hear what I said?”

Logan was frowning like he was working up the courage to answer Finn’s question, when his eyes caught on something in the hallway.

“Le,” he called. “In here.”

Leo poked his head in. “Oh. Fuck, I almost just walked into your locker room. That would have been terrible.”

“Luke said he’d sign my chest,” Finn said. “Bet he’d do yours, too.”

Leo’s eyes turned bewildered. “Excuse me?”

Logan slapped a hand over Finn’s mouth. “He’s stupid.”

The hand went back to combing through Finn’s hair seemingly against Logan’s will.

Leo just shook his head, smiling, and leaned against the wall beside Finn. “You know, Lo, we technically outnumber you. You should be the one in enemy territory.”

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Knut speaks the truth. The Knuth.” Leo’s eyes turned imploring. “Sorry, this is my first time outside in a while.”

Logan spread his hands. “You could have texted me! I was just here and—Finn appeared!”

Finn clicked his tongue. “You know, I felt a little more welcomed when I was being pushed up against the wall.”

Leo laughed. He reached out a hand and pulled Logan to him in one smooth motion. Finn liked watching them always, but especially lately. They had to be so careful with him just now and he liked seeing the easier, more reckless touches.

I’m scared, Leo had said. Finn saw it still in the way he arched his neck down to press his forehead against Logan’s. Logan must have felt it, because his green eyes looked at Leo’s shut ones for a long moment, before closing, too.

“I hate this,” Leo whispered. Finn put a hand low on his back.

“Je sais,” Logan replied, so softly that Finn’s chest hurt. “Me too.”

Finn held himself back. He knew this was between the two of them.

“One of us keeps going, or not.” Logan’s voice was low and sweet. “Still get to come home to you.” Then he said, even more quietly, what Finn had been someone shamefully feeling. “I almost don’t care about anything else but another summer with you two.”

It made Leo let out a surprised laugh, and Logan smiled, pleased with himself.

“Almost, I said.”

Finn had to leave them to it eventually. He made his way up to the box and narrowed in on Natalie and Noelle with their elbows on the railing. They each wore their half Gryffindor, half New York jerseys and had cold plastic cups of beer in their hands. Finn wrapped his good arm around Noelle’s shoulders in lieu of announcing himself.

“Hey Harz,” Noelle smiled.

Finn had always liked the way she looked at him—well, not always. There were those few summers, and that awful period of being a Lion with Logan but not being Logan’s. Noelle hadn’t glared at him, exactly, but she hadn’t not glared at him, either. It had been a soft, pitying sort of glare. A get your shit together sort of glare.

Now, she wrapped a hand around his waist. “You feeling alright?”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “I mean, my boyfriends are about to go head-to-head in the most important game of the season, but I’m super.”

“Don’t use the phrase head-to-head,” Natalie said with a wave of her manicured hand—red and blue. “It’s too on the nose for you.”

Finn snorted. “Very funny.”

In truth, he’d probably have to take a little break from the lights at some point. At least, those were some of his instructions. At least his shoulder didn’t hurt. He sighed and went to the bar to get a water, giving Julian Lupin’s hair a tussle along the way. Was this really how he thought of his life now? In terms of it could be worse?

He hoped not.

New York’s lights went down with a down-spiral, bass-filled sound. The players below became silhouettes. Blue or red—they looked surprisingly similar in the semi-darkness. Both faded into something like purple. Finn leaned his good forearm on the railing beside the girls and resigned himself to being able to do nothing but watch.

Sirius did everything he usually did. The pull, the need to not mess up made everything feel like a mess up in itself. He didn’t like the hum of the New York crowd. They shouldn’t have sounded so sure of themselves, not in the murmur of so many voices, not in the twang of their feet against the stadium stairs.

When the lights went down and some opera singer was announced to sing the anthem, they shouted out for their team over the lyrics like the fate of this game was unavoidable. Unstoppable. He could see many red jerseys that had made the trip to New York, but not enough to compete against the let’s go Rangers chants.

He would win the first face-off. He would set them up right. He wouldn’t think about the fact that they didn’t have Kasey or Finn. He caught a flash of sandy hair before being shaken out before it was covered by a number six helmet.

He had Remus.

A number seven jersey was talking a mile a minute at Alex O’Hara from one still dark bench to the other.

He had James.

If MSG did one thing right, it was the a pump-up. Lasers, blue and red, danced over the ice. It flashed against his gloves, momentarily making the black take on a blue-ish tinge that felt like a stain. He tucked his gloves closer to the red of his jersey, as if he could fight off the blue, and looked up towards the Lions’ box. He couldn’t see much, but he knew Regulus was up there. Remus’ family, too. Julian.

He knew it was just a cup made of silver. It didn’t do anyone much good. It was heavy and bulky and merely a representation of something, not a real…thing. It wasn’t victory, he just thought of winning when he thought of the cup. But he still wanted to win it for them. Regulus, Hope, Lyall, Julian. Remus. James. Leo. Finn and Kasey. Logan.

Himself. Even himself. That was new. Remus caught his eye and gave a firm nod. He wanted a lot of things for himself it turned out. That had taken the place of the nervous, horrifying need to win it for his parents.

Alex got kicked out of the opening face-off, much to the crowd’s outrage, and suddenly Sirius was face-to-face with Logan.

Sirius sighed. “It’s you. Hi.”

Logan smiled. “Are we really speaking English right now?”

Sirius just smiled.

“Well,” the referee said. “I guess I don’t have to tell you two to keep it clean.”

He dropped the puck.

Sirius knew James and Remus would fan out behind him if he won it—and win it he did. He could imagine them back there, the beautiful curves of their skates as they pushed backwards. He sent it right onto Remus’ blade, felt it snap there like magnetism. There was no time to look and watch, only to get into position—or, well, this was Remus he was talking about. There was no time to look and watch, only to try and keep up with him. He pushed forward hard as Remus evaded Logan. Sirius hit his stick on the ice and Remus snapped it back to him. Sirius tried not to take a breath as he brought his stick back—

The puck went right past Saint’s shoulder.

Sirius tipped his head back and closed his eyes briefly at the muted roar that followed. Thank you, he thought. Thank you.

He swooped his skates to the side, his feet knowing where the boards curved all on their own, and opened his arms for Remus. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe he was just in love, but he ducked down, visors clashing, and kissed Remus’ grin.

He wanted that photograph on the front page of every newspaper in the entire world, and he wanted a copy of each one.

Finn got a little choked up, watching that replay. The goal was in the first minute. The goal was just one goal. The kiss was everything.

Noelle rested her head on his shoulder briefly, and then put a hand on one of his cheeks and kissed the other.

Remus looked so surprised, and not so surprised. Sirius just let Thomas and James crash into the embrace and listened to his heart in his ears.

“All I gotta know,” James shouted right in his ear. “Is if that’s a new team superstition!”

Sirius just laughed, and James knocked their helmets together. He didn’t take his eyes off of Remus, who was still smiling, delighted. Remus brought his glove up and gave Sirius’ helmet a little shake. I love you, it said.

The first period stayed like that. Miraculously. Strangely. So unusual for the play-offs. Sirius didn’t feel any momentum shifts. The goal, gorgeous and quick as it had been, felt almost non-existent. It could hardly be called a lead and they were all playing like they had everything to lose—which they did.

The hits got worse, too. Kota had taken Logan out against the boards twice. Sirius wasn’t upset at Kota…both times had led to amazing chances on goal. Neither James or Thomas had been able to finish the job. But Sirius was worried. He knew Logan. He could tell Logan was doing his best not to respond in the way he usually would. All bite.

The whistle went for off-sides and Sirius saw Saint pull Logan into the blue paint by his jersey.

“Take the fucking mittens off, Tremblay,” Saint snapped at him. His blocker dug uncomfortably into Logan’s shoulder from Saint’s hold on him. Saint’s eyes were wild behind his mask. “I swear to fucking God. Forget them. You have to forget them right fucking now.”

Logan felt sweat dripping into his mouth. Leo. LeoLeo. “I’m trying to keep it a clean game.”

Saint made a disgusted sound and let go.

“Seb.” Luke skated up beside Logan. He had a slight cut on his upper cheek from a high stick. “We got you. It’s all right.”

“I don’t feel got.” Saint pushed his mask up for water as the referee called them to the circle.

Logan clenched his jaw and turned away.

“He just wants this,” Luke said, staying close to his shoulder.

“We all want this.”

“Saint wants it more.” When Logan looked at him, ready to brush that off as bullshit, Luke’s face, the green fleck bright in his brown eyes, was serious. “Saint wants everything more.”

“More than you?”

It occurred to Logan that there were different ways Luke could take that question. Luke didn’t answer any of them.

“Remember,” Luke said softly to him. “If I can, I’ll take the shot.”

The rest of the sentence was left unsaid. Luke turned away and put his mouth guard back in. He tapped Alex’s calf encouragingly as he got ready to face-off.

If I can’t, you have to. You have to.

Leo took some water, then squirted some down the back of his neck. He looked up at the clock. He looked up at the crowd and wished he could find Finn. Logan hadn’t looked at him yet while on the ice, which was probably a good thing. Leo couldn’t handle that green right now. It still took him a moment to recognize the 71 on his jersey.

No breakaways yet, which was something at least. He liked their defense. He didn’t feel that jump in his muscles whenever the puck crossed the blue line like he sometimes did. There was trust in this game, and Leo needed to lean on that now more than ever.

Alex raced towards him after puck drop, the rubber disk on his stick.

Leo watched. That was so much of what he did. Watch. That little black dot. He curled his fingers tight inside his glove and blocker and stayed low, following Alex’s feet, then Logan’s, then Luke’s. Where their feet pointed, they would shoot. It was like the tell that magazines wrote about attraction. The feet went where the person wanted to go.

Logan’s feet were pointed right at him, the hard toes of his skates pushing hard and outpacing Kota—but only just. Leo could have predicted that Kota would steal that puck from Logan, poking it out of his control with his longer reach.

Leo saw Logan’s face tense as he easily swung himself back around, his and Kota’s sticks clashing. Kota had been going hard on Logan tonight, but cleanly, and Leo knew Logan was used to it. He liked it, putting pressure on his opponents and receiving pressure in return. That didn’t mean Leo liked standing there with nothing to do but watch as Logan took a hit from some one who, in Leo’s mind, still looked like Logan’s own teammate. Red. Logan should’ve been in red right now.

The puck went back to Alex around the center line, and Leo watched for off sides, ready to raise his glove in protest, but Alex pulled it off clean. The ref spread his arms to signal it to the rest of the ice. Luke was waiting for Alex, holding his own against Thomas. He acted quickly. No sooner had he caught Alex’s pass as he raced up the ice than did he send it cross-ice to Logan—probably meant to make Leo have to stay up on his feet. Leo knew Logan. If Logan kept it—and he might—he’d stay back. He’d shoot from farther away. Leo edged a little farther out of the blue paint in front of the goal. When Logan passed it back to Luke, he sank back in, the posts coming into the edges of his vision. Luke was about to pass it back, Leo watched his feet, but no sooner had the puck begun its track across the ice than did Kota slam into Logan in a mid-ice hit. Clean. Clean, Leo reminded himself as his heart jolted with fear. No contact above Logan’s shoulders. That didn’t mean it didn’t make him hiss in a breath through his teeth.

The crowd roared again, and then louder when Logan pushed back up to his feet. He looked at Kota and Kota looked at him. Logan said something that had a snarl to it and Leo thought, this is the person who took your place.

They dropped their gloves at the same time.

“Lord,” Leo breathed to himself.

He pushed up and out of position, but kept his mask on. When Logan was fighting, the mask let him watch in private. Kota knocked off Logan’s helmet almost as soon as Logan knocked off his. His dark hair was sweaty and curling, and his fists looked strong as he made a grab for Kota’s jersey and latched on.

“Lo…” Leo whispered to himself. Kota had a good head over Logan, but Logan had him on his back in a headlock in five seconds. Easy. He snarled something else and then got up and skated to the box without any prompting from the timid looking referee. Madison Square Garden was on its feet, and they were about to play their first four on four of the night.

They were still 1-0 Lions as Sirius waited by the door for everyone to file off the ice at the first intermission. Remus came to him last, and Sirius was sure there were about four TV cameras on them, but Remus didn’t even try to hide his smile, or his laugh, happy and tumbling.

“Quoi?” Sirius asked, grinning back.

“Oh. I just wish we had been in a home crowd for that.”

“Don’t worry,” he said as he followed Remus off the ice. He reached up to brush his glove against the hands of a few screaming Lions fans. “We will be.”

Leo was pulled out of the line for the first intermission interview, and Sirius, upon seeing Kasey leaning against the side of the doorway to watch, decided to stop, too.

“How’s the kid?” Sirius asked, even though Leo hardly felt like the kid of the team anymore. He hadn’t ever, really.

Kasey had his hair pulled back into a bun, scruff on his cheeks. He thought for a moment, rubbing at his jaw, then said, “Powerful.”

Sirius nodded. “Looks good out there.”

“Yeah,” Kasey said, then sighed, watching Leo wipe his face with a towel as he listened to the question. “Looks tired up close.”

Sirius wouldn’t have said it. At least not out loud. And Leo was good at hiding it either way. He made Marlene laugh. He smiled and let his blue eyes flash up towards the bright light of the camera in his face. He thanked her graciously and stayed a moment to talk even when the camera had lowered, the feed having cut away.

“But powerful,” Kasey repeated. “Like I said.” He looked over at Sirius. “Nice celly out there.”

“Well deserved,” Sirius said.

Kasey laughed. “Sure thing, Cap.”

Kasey followed him into the locker room and Sirius stripped off his jersey, handing it off to be replaced with a fresh one. He wished it was their home locker room. He wished he knew its every corner. The back and forth to New York lately didn’t even come close to the familiarity he had with Gryffindor.

But Remus. Remus knew his every line and shape. He was standing with Layla near the water bottles. Something about his posture, the way he had his arms crossed, made Sirius feel like he was still wearing his PT uniform, the Lions logo small and over his heart rather than taking up his entire chest on a jersey. Sirius sat down in his own stall slowly. He unstrapped his elbow guards without looking away. He couldn’t entirely believe he had spent so long thinking that this, glimpses of Remus all the way across a room, was as close as he was ever going to get.

Remus felt his gaze. Caught him at it. Smiled.

Sirius had to shake himself. 1-0 was nothing in the first period. He should be thinking about their defense right now. And stupid penalties. Definitely not about that ring tattoo he had promised himself. Definitely not about summer.

He sighed, briefly wondering why everyone thought being the captain was so great, and pushed himself back up. He pulled his shoulder and chest pads over his head and dumped them in his stall before striding towards Kota.

Kota had the decency looked a little worried. He knew that he’d pulled them down a man twice, nearly back to back. He knew they were starting the second period four on four because of him, plus an extra two for roughing. The Rangers would have the advantage for two whole minutes after resting for a whole fifteen. Logan would be pissed. Alex would be pissed. Montague would be really pissed.

Kota pulled his headphones out of his ears. “I know, Cap. I know.”

Sirius nodded slowly. They didn’t know each other that well—not compared to the other guys—but Sirius appreciated a player taking responsibility when he saw it. He didn’t appreciate the way Kota looked like he was going to spend the fifteen minutes until they were back in the tunnel kicking himself.

“I know you know,” Sirius said. “And those were clean. I’m just saying…unless you think a hit will draw something, let’s keep it even strength.”

Yeah,” Kota said. “I know…You’re right.”

“Look. I’m not—I didn’t come over here to tell you that you messed up.”

Kota sighed. “Well. Thanks, I guess.”

“Just…try to reset.” The words felt ridiculous, coming from him, and Sirius swore he felt Remus look at his back, overhearing. “It’s a new game next period.”

Hypocrite, he could hear Regulus say. Like you’ve ever reset after a period in your life.

What did he do then? Saying being up one in a knock-out game was nothing was anything but a reset. God, he just kicked himself and kicked himself until he forced the good in him out. Until he played well.

“It’s not, though,” Kota said softly.

Sirius huffed out a laugh, tasting the bitter sound. At least he wasn’t the only one.

“Non,” he conceded, and set a hand on Kota’s shoulder. “Stay out of the fucking box.”

Kota smiled a little. “Yeah. That’s more what I thought you were gonna say.”

“I was trying to be nice.”

“I wish Tremblay would try to be nice.”

Leo, sitting beside him, laughed out loud. “Good luck with that, K.”

Finn had tried his best to not miss any of the action, but he needed a break when he needed a break. He never wanted to be back in a place where the lights took on a glare at the edges, colorful and impossible to look at. He had memories of Logan from Harvard haloed in strange glows. Kissing his cheeks and neck in that dim fuzzy light. He wasn’t sure which ones were dreams.

He waited, at least, for a TV time out, and watched Leo and Logan skate to opposite benches for water before pushing out of his seat. He found a section of the inner hallways that was dim and quiet and tilted his head back against the wall. His sling was digging into the collar of his shirt and he sighed. He wished for sweatpants and a bed, or a jersey and the ice.

Finn didn’t realize Natalie had followed him into the dim hallway until she cleared her throat. He opened his eyes just as she leaned on the wall across from him, crossing her thick-soled, dark red combat boots.

“Just a little light sensitivity,” Finn said. “Supposed to take breaks. Maybe I could wear tinted glasses inside? Don’t know how I feel about looking like a shitty rock star.”

Natalie smiled. “I think you could pull it off.”

“No, you could pull it off.”

“Well, I won’t argue with that.”

Finn smiled. His eyes had dropped to the ring on her finger, holding a glare of its own, and she must have caught him at it because she began twisting it. Almost nervously. And Natalie didn’t get nervous.

“Very shiny,” Finn said. “I mean, I think that’s probably, like, a requirement with rings, but damn. That thing got a light bulb in it or something?”

Natalie raised unimpressed eyebrows at him. “Just say it, Finn.”

“Say what?”

“I’m very versed in O’Hara maneuvers. Just. Say it.”

Finn’s mind began trying to jump ahead. Trying to figure out, as it always seem to, what she wanted him to say. The best way to say it.

He ended up with the truth, blurted out and soft. “You’re not going to marry Kasey and then suddenly decide…” He thought of Alex’s small figure, down below on the ice.

He didn’t know why he was choosing now to be worried about this. Why she was choosing now to talk it over. Period two was going on and—

The stadium erupted. They both listened until the goal song played—The Rangers had scored, then. Leo, was his first thought, and then Logan?

“1-1,” he said, he pushed up from the wall. His head still hurt but he wasn’t sure how to talk about this. Yes, maybe he was worried about Alex. But that wasn’t because of Kasey and Natalie. It was because Alex would do anything for anyone.

“Are you going to suddenly ditch Leo?” Natalie asked.

Finn shot her a disgusted look. The announcer, echoing over the ice said, Rangers goal by number 10—Finn’s heart stopped before he remembered that wasn’t Logan’s number anymore—Artemi Panarin! He let out a relieved breath.

“Well then don’t ask me that question if it’s so fucking absurd.” Natalie pushed up from the wall, too. “What the hell, Freckle?”

“Okay,” Finn said. “All right. I get it. I’m sorry, I just…”

“You just. I’ll tell you what you just. You O’Haras just sure like the feeling of the entire world on your shoulders.”

“Not really.”

Natalie looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. “Yeah.”

Finn watched her as her gaze dropped to her shoes. He’d seen Natalie at parties, whirling on the dance floor. He’d seen her on stage, performing small venues packed to the brim with people that adored her—one time waltzing around stage in nothing but a Winter jersey and tiny, tiny shorts, and knee high boots. He’d never seen her looking down like that before. It made her hair fall in her face, sort of the way Leo’s did when he was down. And he’d been down so much lately.

Another goal horn. Another goal song. It was the Rangers again. 2-1. Finn closed his eyes. The Lions were behind, scored on nearly back to back, within minutes of each other.

“It was Kasey and I for a long time,” Natalie said. “You know?”

“I do and I don’t.” Finn put his hand into his pocket. “It was Logan and I for a long time…but it also wasn’t. You know?”

Natalie nodded. “I know. I know what you must be thinking but—God, Finn. I do love your brother.”

“I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t know that.”

“I know.” She held out a hand, lips pressed into a melancholy smile. She shook her blond hair out of her face and tilted her chin up. The way Leo did when he was proud, or winning. God, please let him win. Logan, I love you, but please.

The announcer, deep and booming, said goal by number 71, Logan Tremblay!

“Fuck,” Natalie said softly, looking towards the sound of the crowd. “Logan. Leo…”

Finn couldn’t say anything. This was awful.

“Come on,” Natalie said. “We’re missing all the action. Just a little longer and one of us will have one boyfriend each back around the house again.”

Finn sighed. “That’s good for no one but us.”

“Then we’ll keep our glee to ourselves and kiss them until it feels better.”

Leo threw off his top pads and jersey and went to the restroom mostly to have a moment by himself. The cool air in the hallway made goosebumps raise over his bare, sweat-slick shoulders and chest, and he pushed into the bathroom to run warm water over his hands, then ice cold water on his face. It was an old trick of Kasey’s. He’d told Leo about it just a few days into his first season. Leo wasn’t even sure what the trick was, but it helped. Maybe it was just because Kasey Winter had told him he did it.

Sirius had called for players only in the locker room, but he needed a minute. Just one minute. He tried looking at himself, but that felt like too much and so he closed his eyes, hands braced on either side of the sink. 2-1. He’d let in back-to-backs and one of them had been from—

Two arms suddenly went around his bare waist and his eyes opened, looking forward into the mirror.

Logan’s green eyes looked back at him from around his shoulder. He dropped his gaze for a moment, nervous, then looked back at Leo and turned his face against his bicep, lips brushing the skin. He was still wearing his undershirt and shoulder pads. They scratched against Leo’s back. Logan’s body felt hot from skating, but his hands were freezing against Leo’s stomach. His dark hair was a dripping sweaty mess all over Leo’s shoulder, his knuckles were busted and had dried blood on them…Leo couldn’t have loved him more.

Leo turned in Logan’s arms and leaned down until he could bury his face against his neck. Logan said something soft, maybe more of a sound than a word, and held him tighter. They were quiet. Leo wasn’t sure what there was to say. An apology felt wrong. It was all just part of the game. They also didn’t have the time. He had to go back in. Listen to Sirius. He had to get dressed, the buckles and the straps and the tightening. Logan had to get back to his locker room.

It was all the game—all of it except this. Logan letting Leo pull back. Logan’s eyes falling closed as Leo pressed a kiss to his forehead. Logan pressing a kiss right over his heart. Logan letting Leo leave the bathroom first before following. Logan looking back at him as he walked away and catching Leo doing the very same thing. That moment hadn’t been the game. That had been just for them.

Coach hadn’t resisted when Sirius called for players only during the second intermission. He’d simply taken his clipboard and his staff and left the visitor’s locker room to Sirius and his boys.

It wasn’t quiet, exactly. No one was speaking, but it wasn’t quiet. There was a thrum, energy mostly. Dissipating, then building and dissipating again as if with each player’s breathing. Sirius could feel every single one of them around him from his place in the center of the room. Like rays of heat, coming towards him. Leo had his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling without an expression on his face. Thomas had one earbud in. Pascal had ice on his thigh. James had ice on his shoulder. They were beat up. It had already been a long season and they weren’t finished yet. Each and every one of them was feeling that. Sirius knew. Remus had his eyes closed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his fingers locked. He looked like he was praying, but Sirius knew better. By the slight flick of his eyelids moving, Sirius knew he was rehearsing.

It was a show as much as it was a game. It was a plot, and everything was twisting, changing, always.

Two horrible goals let in by sloppy playing. Sirius wanted to grab that moment by its very fabric and rip it away, bundle it back in to where no one could see it. It had happened so fast. He saw, in Remus’ face, when he reached that point in his mental image of the game. His mouth pulled tight and he winced, sitting up and opening his eyes with a harsh exhale.

“I used to wish I could rehearse it,” Sirius said, keeping his eyes on Remus. Remus’ eyes softened. They said, of course you knew.

“Alors,” Sirius sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked behind him and found a stool. It had wads of used tape on it, misses from one of the garbage cans, and he brushed it off and sat, right there in the center of all of them. “Just—rehearse it and then do it. Playing well. Playing right.”

He looked up again and realized it was quiet now. Silent. Quieter than he’d ever heard their locker room. He looked down against a burst of hesitation. One of the stick tape balls had latched onto the bulk of his padded pants and he picked it up, mostly just for something to do with his hands. He knew he should be looking at them. Looking around the room.

Look up when you are speaking, Sirius. His mother’s voice came to him suddenly and his flinch was as exposed as Remus’ had been about the game. His eyes, involuntarily, darted to Pascal. Yes. He had noticed. Sirius looked back down. He didn’t have to look to see if Remus and James’ had.

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” James’ voice came and Sirius nearly closed his eyes he was so grateful. He had always been grateful for James.

James smiled at him from across the locker room, elbows on his padded knees. Sweat kept his hair out of his face and he had his contacts in. It made him look entirely different, Sirius had always thought. But not when he smiled. Then he became himself again.

“Ouais,” Sirius said with a slight smile in return. He looked down at the tape sticking and unravelling then reforming into a ball between his restless hands. “Yeah.” He took a breath. “Listen, part of me still feels weird, doing things like this. I didn’t say more than three words to half of you when I first came and I was a dick to the other half.” That got him a few laughs. He risked a glance up at Remus, who was suppressing a smile. “And it’s not like this is some speech and then we go out there and get the Cup. Non, we go out there and get to the next round which gets us to the next round….And it feels long this year.”

Some murmurs of agreement. Pascal shifted his ice to his other thigh—no, his hip. Sirius wanted to take all the pain from them and press it into himself.

Again. His father’s voice. Again, again.

“We’re one behind,” Sirius said. “It’s not much. The Rags are down the hall right now thinking about how dangerous a lead that is.”

“So, let’s be dangerous.” Thomas smiled wide.

“We are dangerous, T,” James said.

“If we are, we’re not playing like it,” Sirius said. “And none of us are okay with that, right? We have to fight harder.”

“Montague has an emotional game,” Leo said suddenly. “If you keep crashing the net, something’s going to piss him off and he’ll miss something.”

Sirius’ eyes went to Kasey, who looked back for a moment before returning his gaze to Leo. Tired. Powerful. He thought of Logan’s tipped-in goal, and how he’d stared after the puck for a moment as if he hadn’t meant for it to go in at all.

“I want to win back to back,” Sirius said. “Who else?”

Thomas, predictably, was the first to shout. He rose and pounded three times on the side of his stall. James laughed, Evgeni let out a loud shout—maybe something in Russian—and then they were chaos. All that quiet energy being let out as they made their way back towards the ice tunnel. Coach didn’t say a word to him, but when they had skated a few laps to the riotous sound of Madison Square Garden, Coach didn’t even look down at his line-up card before putting Sirius, James, and Remus out there first.

Logan’s wrist tweaked every time he turned it just so. Luke had gotten his cheek stitched up before the start of the third. Will had iced his shoulder until the very last minute after a solid hit by Evgeni, and Saint had kept his eyes closed nearly the entire intermission, zoned out to anything but the game. Crazy goalie, Percy had said as he passed him, but the words carried no real heat. They were banged up and tired, but the adrenaline filled the ice like water. Logan didn’t even try to keep his head above it. He breathed it in so that he didn’t think too hard, and so his body didn’t dissolve into any post-game pain.

He’d held Leo for a moment. That was what mattered as they stepped back out onto the ice for the third period. He’d scored on Leo, and Leo had still let him take him into his arms.

Alex skated up beside him and Logan knew he had something to say by the set of his mouth alone. It was very Finn.

“I know, O’Hara,” Logan said, but he sort of thought he needed to hear this anyway.

“If—let’s just say, if the opportunity presents itself…” Alex winced but continued. “You should probably try to make it seem like you meant to score this time around.”

Logan had heard it on the Rangers intermission report on TV, the commentators having a bit of a laugh at his expense. Sure enough, the game video showed him—and they had put it in slow motion, thanks a lot—blinking down at the lit up goal as his teammates put their hands up in celebration, as if he hadn’t remembered it was there.

“Shut up,” Logan said, but he really meant I’m trying.

Remus was aware of the ache in his muscles, but only barely. He was aware of the crowd, but only in the same way he became aware of their air conditioner in the first moments of waking up. A sound that meant nothing. It was just noise.

The force of his own body colliding against the shuddering glass thanks to Percy Marshall brought it all back into focus. The crowd roared with the hit, and Remus forced the breath out of his lungs. He ignored the fear—the phantom twinge in his shoulder and neck. He dove back for the puck.

He couldn’t watch himself lose this game. He couldn’t allow it. And yet, he had a sliver of control over it. He could pick the puck right off of Percy’s stick, but whatever greater force there was didn’t stop Luke Deveaux from being right there to block the lane he had thought was clear. He was pushed back behind the net, behind Leo, who turned towards him without taking his eyes off of Luke.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Remus said, then did his best to push into a burst of speed.

It worked for a second. He blew past Luke, who he heard curse as he skated hard backwards before turning to race after him.

“Re!” He heard Sirius’ stick tap twice on the ice and Remus passed. Sirius caught the puck in the cradle of his blade and then Remus was swinging his skates around with a sharp sound. His back was to the net, waiting for a pass back while also wanting to keep Luke in his sight. They crossed center ice cleanly, but Remus could almost feel the moment Logan got on the ice. The crowd changed, hoping—or maybe even expecting another goal from their newest member. Remus wondered if Leo’s posture had changed in the net.

He watched the way Sirius fought through it, the energy shift. His grey eyes were clouds and steel as he pulled his stick back. It should have sent Luke lunging forward into his path. Instead, when Sirius faked and passed to Remus, and when Remus got down on one knee to slap it hard towards the goal, Luke jolted the correct way. Even as Saint’s glove raised too slow, Remus’ shot hit Luke squarely in the shin and then rolled harmlessly until Saint covered the puck with his glove.

The whistle went and Luke stayed on his hands and knees, grimacing. Remus stopped hard inches from him.

“You okay?”

“Fuck, Lupin,” Luke groaned.

Saint was in his face in a moment, shoving him back, eyes hard behind his mask. “Can I fucking help you?”

“Whoa,” Remus put a hand up. “I—”

“He’s checking on me,” Luke said, pushing to his feet. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Are you?” Saint turned to look at him. His eyes raked up and down, checking.

“Yes,” Luke said, and it was much more gentle.

Remus tried to catch his breath as he turned. He caught Logan’s eye for a moment, but they both looked away.

He looked up at the big screen to see the reply—to see what had given him and Sirius away. He only caught enough in time to watch Sirius’ face fall, in slow motion. Eyes closing, mouth forming a thin line of disappointment.

They weren’t getting through. They just weren’t.

Sirius skated beside him, taking his mouthguard out. “It was my fault.”

They skated to the bench together and Remus reached for the iPad once they were in their seats. “I missed the replay, so we’ll see about that.”

But he didn’t have time to look. Thomas slugged him hard in the arm and, when he looked up, it was to find Pascal alone in front of a gassed Fox and Lindgren. He’d broken away. He was headed right towards Saint.

“Merde,” Sirius breathed from beside him. “Please…”

Pascal faked one way, then the other, beautiful, smooth skill that Remus had admired for years.

Then Pascal took the puck, as if it were part of his own body, and put it right under Saint’s left pad.

Remus heard Sirius and his own shouts mingle as they rose to their feet, sticks raised.

Pascal was grinning by the time he made it back to the bench, glove held up to be bumped down the line.

“I think I still got it, boys!” he called.

2-2. Something had to change.

Logan was becoming increasingly wary of a frustrated Sirius Black. He knew better than anyone what that meant, and it didn’t matter that there was six minutes left on the clock.

He caught a shot of Leo with his mask up on the big screen. He looked good. Anxious, but solid.

“So,” Alex asked as they sat down on the bench, breathing hard. “How was he?”

“Quoi?” Logan tried to catch his breath between drinks of water.

“Secret lover rendezvous.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Alex just shook his head and smiled.

The clock was at five minutes and thirty seconds by the time Logan got back on the ice, and then four minutes and twenty seconds, and then three minutes and fifteen seconds. Still, nothing. Neither team was budging.

One minute seven seconds now. Coach was double shifting him and Luke. There was no time to think. Logan jumped the boards and skated hard to catch up with the action. Will had forced a turn-over and was now trapped between Olli and Pascal. It was a good coaching call. Arthur had obviously thought Logan’s line would rest another shift, but the Rangers hadn’t given him the time to put Sirius and Remus out against them once again. Logan knew they were the better line and that this was their chance to even the score.

The whistle went at forty-five seconds remaining for over the glass deflection right near Saint’s goal. When he looked towards the Rangers’ bench, Coach shook his head. Stay on.

That should have felt better than it did. It should have felt like trust and confidence. Instead, Logan filled with dread.

“Hey.” Luke bumped their shoulders, holding a glove him to his mouth so no camera could read his lips. “Remember what I said. If I can, I’ll do it.”

It was kind, but it was a fantasy. There was no guarantee, and they would both be killed by the coaching staff, not to mention the media, if they over-passed at such a high stakes moment.

“Thanks,” Logan said, because they both knew the truth. Luke’s smile was tight. Logan wondered if some part of him actually did wonder if Logan could follow through.

The thought struck a competitive chord within Logan that he wanted nothing to do with.

Alex got kicked from the face-off yet again—along with a sharp stop mouthing off, O’Hara! from the ref. It left Logan face-to-face with Sirius again, just as he’d been at the very beginning of this game.

They looked at each other. Sirius, who had seen him at his worst and at his best. Sirius, who he’d gone from looking up to, to calling one of his closest friends.

Sirius offered a small smile. “Friends either way?” he asked in French.

Logan nodded. “Toujours.” Always.

Sirius won the puck, but he didn’t hold onto it. It was a strange scrabble. Logan found himself playing from his knees at one point, fighting against Sirius and James’ shoulders and sticks.

“Tremz!” Luke shouted.

Logan shoved the puck towards him in a motion that carried enough momentum to land him sprawled on his belly.

“Merde,” Sirius cursed, and they both scrambled up.

Part of his mind was only on the fact that Luke had the puck and that he hoped the others could keep it if they were going to score. That didn’t mean he stayed out of position, but every part of him fought and wavered. Take the shot. Pass. Take the shot. Luke, obviously, was trying to keep the puck away from Logan, too.

But Percy didn’t know about their pact. When he was cornered by Remus, he sent a clean pass straight towards Logan.

The puck hit his stick blade right in front of Leo—and there was no time. There was no time to look for Luke. There was no space. A pass would send him, and maybe Luke, too, spilling right into Leo’s blue paint and goal. Logan realized he was holding his breath because it felt like the ice was closing in on him, so cold that it burned.

He looked right at Leo. He could hardly see his blue eyes through the mask’s shadow, only the red and gold gleaming paint and the lions teeth drawn around the cage. He could see Leo recognize his movements though. He knew Leo would recognize his movements. He knew Leo’s play just as well as Leo knew his.

Don’t. Every muscle in his body screamed the word. Not him. Don’t do this to him.

But Leo would hate him if he knew he was holding back, wouldn’t he?

Logan would hate himself either way.

There was no time.

Remus could only watch as Logan pulled his stick back. If this went in, it was over. If this went in, the Lions were finished.

“Read him,” he heard Sirius say in a fast rush of French. “Read him, Leo, read him—”

Please, Remus thought. Please.

Please, Logan thought, wind on his face.

Please. It filled his whole being.

Please, he begged, someone, anyone. He didn’t even know what he was begging for.

He whipped the puck forward, right at Leo, and watched it leave the ice, flat disk wavering against the air.

#vaincre lumosinlove #hockey au #coops #wolfstar #lelo #finnlo #sunfish #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #sirius black #Logan tremblay #remus lupin #Leo knut #sweater weather lumosinlove

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noisyquokka · 1 year

Text

Lifetimes Before

PAIRING - Chan x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - Sometimes all your soul needs is a quiet night with your Lover, something that always feels familiar to you that you can't quite put a finger on.

WORDCOUNT - 2k

WARNINGS - Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, dancing with this man under the stars? sign me up!!

A/N - I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while now, so I thought I'd finally get it out. Giggled, kicked my feet, twirled my hair whilst writing this and now I wish I could dance with my girlfriend... Anyway Happy Chan day, everybody!!🥰🎉

The wood creaks beneath your weight as you descend the staircase, halting at the second-last step and leaning over the railing. You scan the open space in search of your Lover, ears perking at the melody floating about the first floor. Something far older than the two of you, with elements of blues, swing, big band. A man with the vocals of silk and lace, a warm embrace. Nat King Cole. It's a record you're familiar with, one you can imagine your grandparents listening to in their late 20s. It's something that fits a quiet Sunday evening, the spices from a homecooked meal wafting through the house as the family sits down to eat. Something that fits this quiet Sunday evening.

The chosen vinyl spins on the turntable, soundwaves moving you like nothing else can. You skip down the last few steps, turning towards the back patio with a furrowed brow. There's a faint glow shining through the door's glass, fighting its way through the sheer curtains hanging from them; a pathetic excuse for privacy. But you find the golden glow of a sunset too good to pass up most days, the rays bleeding through the hallway, running up the walls like untamed flames in a campfire.

Ah, that glow… one of crackling wood and all-encompassing heat.

A smile pulls at the corners of your lips, your slippers padding across the runner in the hall as you pull the door open. Chan's back is to you, tending to the fire in the freestanding pit. Daylight is fading, the tree tops along your property rimmed in the amber glow of late Summer. The northern breeze assaults the fabric on your person, greeting the bare skin beneath with a sweet kiss of chills. You step out anyway, patio bricks smooth underfoot, and clear your throat. The man's shoulders tense only for a moment, straightening up as he turns to you. That familiar look of affection adorns his face.

"So what's this, then?" You gesture to the fire, the buzzing stereo inside. It's romantic beyond measure, and even as you know the events that are about to unfold, you play coy. "You call me down here for what, exactly?"

"Leave the door open," He says, waving you over with a wag of his fingers. You oblige, unable to hold back your smile as you close in on the sight before you. The mess of curls atop his head move with him, his focus on nothing else but you as you cross the space from the entrance to the patio. The closer you get, the wider Chan's smile gets until you're greeted by those dimples, the fire light washing over the elusive divots as he turns back to the horizon awash in a blaze of vibrant hues. Orange, violet, yellowish-pink.

You stop behind him, feeling the warmth of the fire spill over the broadness of his shoulders. He chuckles when your arms slink around his waist, tightening as you rest your cheek at the space between his shoulder blades. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. The patio door sways open further with the breeze, the sound of the stereo mingling with the crackles and pops of dry wood. It's almost like the sands in the hourglass stop out here, every single time. If only…

Chan's fingers slip under one of your hands, linking your fingers together to pull you around to his side. The song that's playing ends, and you recognize the next instantly. Those fingers squeeze around yours in a nonverbal question, and Chan follows up with a verbal one.

"May I?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"I'm just being a gentleman." He insists, pulling you closer with a gentle hand. His other hand settles at your waist, taking the lead in this three-step on this chilly evening. And you follow with no complaints, bringing your opposite hand up to rest on his shoulder. Nat King Cole begins his silken performance from inside.

Three little words,

Oh what I'd give for that wonderful phrase,

To hear those three little words,

That's all I'd live for the rest of my days,

His grip on you is firm but comfortable, there to keep you close even as he knows you're not going anywhere. The two of you ease into that familiar swing and sway, so used to being soul partners in this backyard oasis where the only wandering eyes are the wildlife that slinks through the shadows and the stars that have yet to make their appearance tonight. Moving together as one, sharing the same space as Chan pulls you in so your back is to his chest.

And what I feel in my heart,

They tell sincerely,

No other words can tell it half so clearly,

His voice rumbles in his chest, swaying you back and forth as he softly serenades you in his arms. You're smiling, lashes fluttering at such a serene and calming voice, the lyrics carrying you on wings of sound as you step in time with the music. And oh, does that voice hold nothing but the strongest affection for the one he's singing to. It erupts butterflies within your chest.

Chan unfurls you from his embrace, your fingers interlocking again as you step backward, shifting your weight to your left foot and coming back to center. It's hard not to smile, something so natural to the both of you - a waltz between two Lovers in firelight as your bodies flow like a river - when you've been here a number of times. The instrumentals fill the air between you both, floating out of the warmly lit home and into the night.

Three little words,

Eight little letters,

Which simply mean I love you.

Chan's voice fills your ears again as he spins you around the patio, the chill creeping under your shirt. Even so, you feel nothing but warmth radiating from the man that's swinging you around like this is the most fun he's had in all his lifetimes. He pushes you away, shifting his left foot back before strong arms are pulling you back into him. Your laughter echoes through the trees, and you let your head fall back in bliss. You bite your lip as he presses a kiss to your chin.

"Am I doin' this right?" His breath is soft on your neck, arms slipping to the small of your back while yours find their resting place at his shoulders. You're much too close to properly dance, so Chan guides you into a slow and simple sway, shifting your weight from your left foot to your right.

"You're the dancer, Christopher," You reply, tilting your head to lock eyes with the man, "shouldn't you know?" A soft smile takes over your lips as you let your eyes linger on his in the warmth of the fire.

"I was referring to my execution," He gestures to the romantic setting he'd created with a smirk. "but from the look on your face, I'm guessing I've done alright."

You chuckle, blinking as your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck. Your gaze flits around the backyard, seemingly judging the choices he'd made. The wind kicks up now, rustling the changing leaves that sway along their branches with you two below. The flames crackle with the intrusive whispers of air, embers glowing as they travel on the wind's current like fireflies. Your focus come back to those warm amber eyes, licking your lips.

"I'd say so." You murmur, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Chan grins at that, lifting you with ease and twirling you around, the two of you moving in a smooth circle. You squeal at his movements, eyes wide for the slightest second as the pads of your fingers dig into his shoulders. But then you hear him giggle and you're being brought back down just enough that his lips can find yours. You hum contentedly into the kiss, lashes fluttering against your ever heating cheeks.

And what I feel in my heart,

They tell sincerely,

No other words can tell it half so clearly,

He sets you back to your feet and without missing a beat, you're back in step with little effort. Your body moves in time with Chan's and his with yours, each step blending into the next. The intuitive tells and the way you understand each other's bodies is an artform, with a level of cohesion that defies all logic. Like two halves of a whole, your souls intertwined in a way that's otherworldly. Attuned to the natural rhythm of one another, every step, every touch. It's something learned over lifetimes. It's an enchanting feeling; an experience you could live in for eternity if only you get to experience it with his soul in every single life beyond this one.

Three little words,

Eight little letters,

Which simply mean I love you,

He spins you away again, lyrics dancing on the tip of his tongue. The man's voice is like a soft, melodic lullaby, it's smooth and soothing tones washing over you. The breeze and the fire craft a tranquil and romantic atmosphere as you sway your hips with the music. The flames cast a glow across Chan's face, dancing over bare skin as he draws you back into him, foreheads bumping softly. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing fervently at the warm skin. Time moves slowly in this moment, lasting an eternity as you breathe each other in. You could've sworn this song is only about two minutes long.

"Simply mean I love you."

He sings the last line softly, a wide grin taking over his face. You mirror that grin, unable to hold back as your heart beats heavy in your chest. Two pairs of eyes stare for a long moment, taking in every feature, every imperfection, everything. Nothing but a heart palpitating love in those gazes, melting into one another. There's love.

"I love you."

It's said at the same time, soft chuckles vibrating through warm chests. His breath lightly fans over your cheeks, the hand at your back coming to rest at your hip. He tilts your head up just enough, the softness of his lips meeting yours in another gentle kiss. You're still slightly swaying as the next song plays in the background, your senses tuned into him as you feel the chill on your skin, the scent of burning wood, the taste of Chan's lips on yours.

You dance until the fire begins to die, your bodies intertwined and foreheads resting against each other. Until the vinyl is finished playing, giving way to the chorus of night insects that still sing this close to the start of Autumn. The embers burn away, cooling into white ash as starlight takes over, the moon's soft luminescence illuminating the two of you. And even after all is quiet, you stay in Chan's arms, the warmth of his skin and his voice a gentle comfort.

You know you have work in the morning, but enveloped in your Lover's arms, you don't see yourself finding the willpower to rush back inside to go to bed. Not when everything feels as it should. Heartbeats in sync, two souls sharing such a profound connection that poets of old could only weave into the fabric of humanity's web with their weathered scribes.

You see their gazes now, in the twinkling of the stars above, beautiful and serene. A creation all their own. The scene brings a smile to their shimmering faces, that you know every inch of the man beside you. Every inch of his body, every movement, every sound. There is nothing that Chan does that you don't already know. Your love runs deeper than flesh and bone, deeper than the vastness of galaxies. It's a love that runs to the very essence of your two souls. A love that has lasted lifetimes before this one and will last for lifetimes after.

The hours pass, but you don't rush back inside to sleep. There is no hurry, no need.

You are where you're supposed to be, in the arms of the man you love.

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#stray kids #bang chan #stray kids x reader #skz x you #bang chan x reader #skz #bang chan fluff #chan x reader #skz soft hours #skz chan #bang chan imagines #stray kids fluff #gn!reader #x gender neutral reader #quokkawritings🌻

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v0rewhxre · 8 months

Text

Coming Home

Hello Lovelies! Thank y'all so much for the support and love the past day! I have decided to write a little quick Folio Fic! Hope you enjoy!

18+ warning

CW: [implied unprotected p in v but no descriptive details, drinking, fluffy fluff, smooching, longing]

It started like any other day when Folio was home, a quick morning text letting you know he was finally home after a long touring schedule. Not only was Nick your best friend, but you lived in the same rural neighborhood. You spent your summer days riding bikes throughout the twists and turns of neighboring streets. You spent the evenings watching Folio play drums in local bands in concrete basements, ears ringing for days afterwards. Winters were spent surrounding bonfires, wrapped in blankets and reliving old times together.

One by one each friend left your hometown but Folio stayed, except when it came to touring, recording, and anything else Bad Omens. So when the opportunity came to spend time with him, you always jumped on it.

And what did he want to do? Go fish...

Equipped with fishing poles, his dad's truck, and a cooler full of Natty Boh's, Folio arrived bright and early like he said he would.

The river was a short drive from your neighborhood. You sat in the passenger seat while Folio took all the familiar turns. At the end of a long road, that had since turned into dirt from asphalt, Folio pulled to the side. The sound of the parking break indicated it was time to gear up. You opened the familiar creaking door, moving to the now open truck bed. You reluctantly accepted the wader pants, earning a small chuckle from Folio's lips.

"The last time you complained about the leeches for hours, y/n," Folio said looking down at the pants then into your eyes.

You practically melted at his chocolate brown eyes, nodding your head as you begun pulling the waders over your leggings.

Once geared up you both trekked through the woods on a barely-there path, but you both knew exactly where you were going. At the rivers edge, you cracked open a beer, prepared your fishing poles, and waded out into the flowing river.

"I reckon I'll catch the biggest fish this time," You teased as you both cast out your lures. Folio chose a simple blue spinner lure, while you opted for a rainbow jerkbait.

Hours passed by as you both cast out lines, reeled in, and repeated. A few small bluefish made their ways onto your hooks, nothing noteworthy. The trout Folio caught was small and did not meet regulation to keep.

Despite the lack of fish, you both had fun. You earned a few splashes from Folio when you cast your line too close to his, he didn't want you to steal his prize fish. You splashed him when his back turned to you, earning a scold from him that you 'scared the fish away' when his line came up empty once again.

After another hour or so more, you both waded your way to shore to sit on the bank and drink a few beers. The sun had begun to set casting deep shadows from the trees. You both sat silently, enjoying each other's company. Every so often you caught Folio's eyes light up when looking at you, earning a shy smile and blush as he quickly looked away. It all just felt right. You loved his goofy smile, the way his face was so expressive even in simple moments like this.

When dusk settled, you both packed up your gear walking back to the truck. In the cover of the trees it was almost impossible not to trip over fallen branches and tree roots. When you made it back to the truck it took all but a few minutes to wiggle out of the waders. Although, Folio caught you when you tripped taking your left foot out. You caught his gaze, mere inches from his beautiful face. His eyes now as dark as the night creeping its way in. His nose ring catching the last light that was left behind.

Then his lips crashed into yours, it was slow but hungry. It started as just lips, and then teeth, and then tongue. The kiss grew urgent, hungry. Your body electrified, it had been so long since you imagined what it would be like to be Folio's. You gave up on that idea long ago when Folio wanted to pursue his dreams.

One shirt came off, then another, one bra, then pants were on the ground. You both had made your way into the backseat of the truck driven by a string you both knew was there. Folio took his time, sneaking glances into your eyes to make sure every move he made was ok, was right.

Fingers snaked under the bands of underwear, both cast aside somewhere in the front seat of the truck. The windows had begun to fog from the pure ecstasy of two friends exploring the deepest parts of themselves for the first time.

The silent night was filled with breathless moans; small gasps when the right spot was found. Pleasure was building slowly, powerfully running between the two of you. And then it was over as fast as it had started, ending in small screams of the others' names. You both clothed quickly, knowing you had already missed the opportunity to eat a hot dinner around your dining table.

Folio drove home, taking the familiar turns once more before pulling in front of your house. Lights illuminated his eyes, which you caught one more time before opening the door and going home.

If you had looked back, you would have noticed Folio's stare lingered on the back of your head for a moment too long. He wanted to say something, but he knew it wasn't the right time.

He would always come home.

*****************************************

Hope you enjoyed :)

#nick folio #nick folio fanfiction #nick folio x reader #noah sebastian #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #bad omens

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vxxlkyrie · 10 months

Text

Requested by @ sillybunnigum on AO3 ^

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CD Dates

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“What exactly are we looking for?” You say, sifting through a few vinyls. Sal was next to you, looking through the CD’s. He had come up with the idea that as your first official date together, he wanted to take you to a record store. An interesting choice for a first date, but it was Sal so it made sense.

“No way!” He exclaimed. You look over quickly to see him holding up a CD case. You squint your eyes to try and read the font that the bands name was written in.

“ ‘Sanity’s Fall’? What’s that?” You ask. You had heard Sal and Larry talking about them briefly during lunch but you had never actually heard any of their music.

“You know that band Larry really likes? And the shirt he wears, like, everyday? It’s a Sanity’s Fall shirt. He made me listen to their music when we first met.” You couldn’t quite see it because of his prosthetic, but you could tell from his tone that he was smiling.

Sal has told you all sorts of fond memories he has with Larry. You find it sweet that they’re so close, it’s rare to see one without the other.

“We can get it if you want.” You say, smiling at him. He turned to you quickly.

“Are you sure? I don’t even really know if you’ll like this kind of music.” You shrug.

“You seem to like it, so I could always give it a shot.” You say with a wider smile. He cocks his head to the side, from the small slits of his eyes that were visible, you could tell he was smiling at you once more.

You grab the CD from out of his hand and walk over to the counter to pay for it.

“Is that everything?” Asks the cashier in a monotone voice. You nod. Sal was standing behind you, holding your hand. He got anxious in public sometimes so most of the time when you two hung out alone, you did the shopping.

Which was a little odd. He was so talkative with Larry. Maybe he’s just more comfortable with him.

The two of you walked out of the store, hand in hand. It didn’t take long to get back to his apartment, the record store was only a few blocks down. When you arrived, Sal held the door open for you. You made your way to his room.

Sal and you went into his room, he was excitingly bouncing his way to his room. Seems he was really excited about the CD. He almost drops it when he tries putting it in the CD player.

“Careful. You’re over excited.” You say calmly.

“I know, I know. I’m just excited that you wanted to listen to Sanity’s Fall.” He pushed play on the machine. You jumped a little from the sudden loud sound, but you quickly adjusted.

“The song is called ‘Void’ if you’re wondering.” He says as he sits on his bed. You can see him bobbing along to the music. You laugh a little and join him. You hadn’t heard Sanity’s Fall before, but you liked it.

It wasn’t long before both you and Sal stood up together to start bouncing around and head banging along to the music. Quiet laughter was barely audible over the blasting music.

You valued small moments with Sal like this. And to be quite frank, you were looking forward to more fo them in the future. And you were looking forward to asking Larry if you could borrow one of his Sanity’s Fall CDs.

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It was shorter than I had anticipated but I hope it suffices 🥲

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univvrse · 1 year

Text

the coven (chapter 15)

minors dni

reader x bakugou x shinsou x kaminari x kirishima

cw: sub reader, smut, penetrative sex, threesome, blowjobs, spit roasting, biting, voyeurism kinda i think

Coven- a formation of at least three or more vampires

He told you they were dangerous- why didn't you believe him?

previous parts can be found on my masterlist

on my ao3 if you'd prefer

1.6k words

Their shower was insanely nice- you didn’t know why but you weren’t expecting vampire’s houses to have running water considering the ice-cold temperature of both them and their house.

When you went back into his room, dressed back in Hitoshi’s shirt that you were wearing before, Eijiro was exactly where you left him; you could tell he literally hadn’t moved a muscle.

He looked up at you- a wide smile plastered on his face like he had something to tell you. You smiled back at him- slightly confused and curious for what he was about to tell you.

“The others are all having sex in Katsuki’s bedroom, if you wanted to go and join them?” He asked, he sounded keen to be with them but not like he was forcing you to go.

You didn’t feel too sore from the night before- “yeah- that’d be fun,” your tone sounded sort of sheepish, as if you were scared of something. To be fair, you were slightly- for god’s sake you were about to have sex with 3 vampires at a time.

“You sure sweetheart, we don’t have to, I’ve had 100 years’ worth of sex with them I don’t care about missing one time.”

“No- I’d really love to.” You nodded your head profusely- to be honest even the suggestion of it aroused you. You felt your face flush red- God you sounded like such a slut.

He quickly stood up- seeming pleased by your answer. He grabbed you by the hand- intertwining your fingers with his and lead you across the hall.

The walk to Katsuki’s room felt like a haze- like the world had ended and you and Eijiro were the last thing in the universe, you could barely feel your feet as you walked- just the pounding of your heart.

His room was barely a few steps from Eijiro’s and yet it felt like a lifetime of anticipation.

The door was already slightly ajar- Katsuki’s room was gorgeous- you could tell that he bought the house. His room was almost pitch black but at this point you had gotten used to the low light. The room was probably the size of your apartment yet most of it was taken up by a four-poster bed in the centre- it was obviously huge and probably the biggest bed you had ever and would ever see, his sheets were silk and a dark shade of red. His walls were black although you could barely see them as his walls were taken up by huge posters- most of them were of incredibly old black and white movies- they looked like he had taken them of the walls of the cinema itself- the others were of old bands you didn’t recognise. Other than the bed there was only one other piece of furniture in the room- a bookcase taking up a whole wall, it was full of records- you knew how expensive they were, you hadn’t really considered how rich they were until you saw his room.

Despite all of this- the most noticeable thing in the room was the three men in the centre of the bed making out with each other- they were all clothed apart from Katsuki who was shirtless and Jesus fuck was he jacked. Anyway, Hitoshi was on top of Denki- rubbing his knee against his groin, the two of them hardly noticed when you and Kirishima came into the room.

Katsuki looked up from kissing Denki’s neck to smirk at you- a silent invitation for the two of you to join them on the bed.

As soon as you were on the bed, Katsuki was upon you- wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close- he stopped himself for a moment to ask,

“It’s okay if I kiss you right?” You nodded quickly and in an instant his lips were slamming against yours. Wow- he was certainly out of his shell now.

Katsuki left your lips for a moment; “Before we start- just to let you know- I’m not going to go easy on you just cause you’re a goddamn human or whatever.”

You smirked at that- not a single part of you wanted him to go easy on you. You wanted him in every way both humanly and inhumanly possible.

With that thought- you fell back against the pillows, your teeth lips clashing against Katsuki’s as he clambered on top of you fervently. You gasped into the kiss, parting your lips enough for Katsuki to dart his tongue through the gap and lick into your mouth. You welcomed the intrusion with a contented hum, sending your vocal chord’s vibrations directly into Katsuki’s throat. He begins roughly grinding himself against you, his erection growing with every thrust of his hips. You clawed desperately at his back- almost immediately his hands were in your hair tugging it away from your face and pulling it harshly from the ends- making you arch your back.

“God, do you have to be such a desperate slut?” You could tell it was a question where he didn’t expect an answer.

His hands grasped at your shirt- pulling it over your head- you weren’t wearing a bra; you were completely naked under his gaze. A strangled moan from across the bed broke you out of your trance. Holy shit, you’d totally forgot that literally a few inches from you, there were three more vampires making out eagerly with each other. Your stomach churned at the realisation. This was probably the norm for these boys, they wouldn’t give it a second thought, but you were still freshly no longer a virgin. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t insanely aroused by the situation; still though, a wave of nerves coursed through you. Almost all the boys had warned you about Katsuki’s lack of tenderness when it came to sex, including the man himself.

You almost breathed a sigh of relief when you heard Eijiro leave the other two and crawl towards where you lay beneath Katsuki. At least you knew Eijiro would be gentle. A mere week ago, if you had been told you’d be more relieved at the idea of a threesome than regular sex, you would’ve laughed hysterically. You really hoped this didn’t mean you were a total whore. It probably did.

Katsuki’s weight lifted off you and you opened your eyes. He was staring at Eijiro intensely, his permanent scowl deepening every few seconds- obviously reading his mind.

He turned to you. “Ei wants you to suck him of,” Katsuki said- it wasn’t so much a question as it was a demand. And you were more than happy to oblige.

“I can speak for myself” Eijiro interrupted with faux exasperation, “Would that be okay though baby?” He asked quickly- you could tell how much he wanted this- wanted you. You quickly nodded yes, and he closed in on you, pulling down his shorts- freeing his erection. He wasn’t wearing underwear, as if he were waiting for you; waiting for this moment.

Eijiro was already semi-hard.

“Can you stroke my dick for me baby?” he asked eagerly, you paused for a minute before sitting up on your knees and beginning to work at his half-hard cock. Even though you were inexperienced, his face showed nothing but pure pleasure.

You decided to start sucking him off- getting on your hands and knees- using one hand to grip his dick gently between your fingers, tilting it towards your salivating mouth- licking his tip. You were truly hungry for his dick. The more you sex you had the more enticing it was to you- the more you yearned for it. It was the one and only thing on your mind.

You allowed his cock to enter your mouth- gagging slightly at the feeling of his tip prod at the back of your throat. You truly hadn’t realised how well-endowed he was until this moment- you couldn’t take his whole dick at once- choosing to pump the rest of his cock with your hand while slipping his penis through your lips over and over again. You looked up at his face- his eyes were rolled into the back of his throat and moan after moan slipped from his throat.

“Shit- sweetheart- slow down a bit f’ me please?” You followed his advice- slowing down only slightly.

You felt Katsuki pulling your underwear to the side- his fingers gently prodding at your cunt- you gasped at the feeling of his thumb on your clit. The vibrations from your mouth did nothing but spur Kirishima on, one of his gentle hands resting on the back of your head.

You leaned into the blonde’s touch- desperately craving more of it. Eijiro’s eyes were completely in the back of his head as moans spilled from your throat- Katsuki pressed a finger inside you, quickly finding a spot inside of you that you didn’t know existed before you had met the vampires; he stuffed more fingers into you, living up to his word about not being gentle. He curled his fingers- pumping them in and out of your pussy.

His fingers were gone from you almost far too quickly; you felt empty for a moment before you felt Katsuki’s cock pressing against you. Weird- you hadn’t even heard the noise of his trousers unbuckling. All thoughts were instantly zapped from your head as you felt his cock begin to enter you. You hadn’t even seen his dick, but you could tell it was thicker than any of the other vampires and by the way he was entering you, you could tell it was probably longer too. The stretch burned slightly yet you had begun to crave the feeling of it- the feeling of his cock inside you sent you into a trance and, for just a moment you forgot Eijiro’s dick was in your mouth- pushing it further down your throat until you were practically choking on it. Your eyes began to leak with tears, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to care, you only wanted more- you desperately wanted more. More of both of them.

Finally, the blonde was fully inside of you- wasting no time on letting you adjust. He thrusted in and out of you at a breakneck pace. Katsuki grabbed your hair harshly- forcing even more of Eijiro’s cock down your throat- all the air in your lungs was knocked out of your lungs in a single second but yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You would be almost glad to never breathe again if you could feel this good for a moment. Katsuki’s thumb was unrelenting on your clit- making you pulse around him- feeling your high creeping up on you.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Denki getting practically pounded into the bed by Hitoshi- the fact they could see you only excited you even more. You clenched around Katsuki one last time before the knot inside you snapped. You were practically forced into your orgasm- the world went black for a moment as pleasure overwhelmed your entire being. You drooled around Eijiro’s cock- feeling his dick twitch in your mouth, you could tell he was going to cum soon too. You glanced up at him- his hand was thrown over his face and his head was thrown back.

“Fuck- baby- I’m gonna cum,” Eijiro gasped, almost sounding out of breathe, “I can cum in your mouth yeah?” He asked, you nodded yes as best you could.

It wasn’t long before his cum was spilling into your mouth, there was so fucking much of it- it seeped out of your mouth, not that you cared. You slipped his now flaccid cock out of your mouth.

Katsuki practically burst out laughing behind you, “Didn’t take you too long at all to cum, Ei?” He joked rhetorically.

Your senses were quickly overwhelmed as Katsuki increased his pace, nearly knocking you off your hands and knees.

“Fuck- cum f’ me again.” Katsuki practically demanded.

“Please- Katsuki- I can’t.”

“No such thing as can’t baby.”

His thumb sped up on your nub- practically forcing you towards your end. He leaned over you- leaving small bites on your neck. Or at least he tried to, you clenched around him, and he practically fell. Sinking his fangs completely into your neck- biting fully into you. For some reason that’s what did it for you, the damn inside you broke. You practically saw stars, clenching around him. Your orgasm seemed to force him into his- his cum spilling inside your gummy walls.

He pulled out of you almost immediately, grabbing you a bit too harshly by the neck- inspecting the bites he had left around your neck. “Shit- fuck, Y/N I’m sorry.”

#my hero academia #vampire #vampire au #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #no beta we die like men #bakugou #denki kaminari #hitoshi shinsou #bakugou x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #x reader #sub reader

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year

Note

11 with Danny pleaseee! <3

Prompt list here

Person A noticing person B is getting overwhelmed and helping them out.

w/c: 2k

pairing: danny x reader

warnings: fluff 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting and I’m so sorry it took so long, I hope you like it!! ♥️

“God dammit!” You exclaimed over the sound of shattering glass. The small crystals that once formed a dinner plate dramatically scattered themselves across the floor, taunting you as you felt the heat of embarrassment begin to embellish your cheeks. Tears of frustration started to prickle your eyes and you looked down over your still full hands at the mess below you. It was no comfort when the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, making you clamber to the sink and quickly place the rest of the dishes down safely.

“Bug?” The familiar voice that usually sounded with comfort cut through you like a knife. You placed your hands on the edge of the counter to support your weight as you felt the tears slowly spill over your burning cheeks. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I…” you began, feeling your lip quiver at the thought of him worrying about you. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just slipped out of my hand, is all. Don’t worry about it.” You finished, your statement coming out much stronger than you thought it would.

“It’s okay, I’ll grab a broom.” He offered.

“No, it’s okay, Danny. Go back to the living room, I can clean it up. I made the mess, anyway.” You sighed, lifting your hand to your face and wiping away the mess of mascara that was surely there. The last thing you wanted was to distract him from the company he had been so excited to have over.

He’d been talking about this specific Friday night for weeks. After months of nonstop meetings, recording, and bouts of touring, he was looking forward to finally having a day where him and his band mates weren’t required to do anything at all. The plans were set in stone, all but carved into the wall in scripture with the way he’d been radiating excitement over it, and you were more than happy to go along with them. You loved company, and you loved Danny, so it was almost blasphemy for you to have any ill feelings about a night like such. That would be true if this Friday were a normal Friday, but it had been anything but normal, so far.

When you woke, you had the intent of cleaning the house in preparation for a fun weekend of absolutely nothing, which was exactly what you and Danny wanted. When you crawled out of bed, you left him sleeping peacefully with no urge to wake him any time soon. When you walked downstairs to start your deep cleaning, you noticed a puddle of water by the sink. A pipe had sprung a leak throughout the night, and although it wasn’t a huge mess or a difficult fix, it was a poor way to start the day. You cleaned it, patched it, and were able to forget it ever happened before Danny even woke for the day. No harm, nor foul. You continued on like normal, mindlessly picking away at the other tasks on your to-do list. When it came time to run to the store and pick up all of the items you needed, you went to your car only to find you had locked your keys inside it the night before. After a moment of panic, you retrieved the spare set once you remembered they existed.

The store was fine, it had everything you needed, which was a huge relief. Things seemed like they were starting to look up until you got back in your car to drive home. That was when you noticed the gas gauge was threatening empty. You made it to the nearest gas station on fumes, and dropped your phone in the parking lot. It cracked the screen, but thankfully, it still worked. On a normal day, one or two of the inconveniences would not have fazed you at all. But, all four in the span of a morning seemed a bit excessive, leaving you cursing the universe for a few brief moments. When you got home, you vowed to brighten your spirits and put on a smile, more worried about ruining Danny’s mood than fixing your own. By the time you got back, he had gotten out of bed, but was sitting at the kitchen table with sleep still laced in his expression and a cup of coffee much too small to fix his months worth of sleep deprivation.

The sight of him alone was enough to warm your heart, to patch up any lingering wounds from the mornings unexpected happenings. You two cleaned together, talked, and shared excitement over the night that was bound to be good. But, you always failed to realize that pressure was not how a night full of good memories was made, and it inevitably caught up to you. By the time the boys arrived, dinner was not finished and you still had a mental list of things you wished you could have completed. You shooed Danny and his band mates away to allow them some much needed rest and relaxation while you bustled to cover your trail of chores that you hadn’t yet gotten done. You should have known that rushing wouldn’t get you anywhere, but in attempt to sit down faster, you had forgotten about the tray of cookies you threw in the oven after dinner was taken out to cool.

With the smell of burnt cookies lingering in the air, you couldn’t even seem to enjoy the meal you’d made, leaving you antsy to get up and away from everyone. As soon as the plates were cleared, you ushered everyone off once again, to have fun and drink while you did the dishes. In the midst of burying yourself in cleanup, you had tried to cut a corner and pile the dishes in your arms to make one trip to the sink. It worked well at first, but ultimately the top plate slipped, leading into the exact situation you found yourself in, now.

“Just because it’s your mess doesn’t mean I can’t help.” He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Before you could protest, he had slipped away and was off to find a broom. The crushing guilt of making him work on a much needed day off was overwhelming. You had tried so hard all day to make sure he didn’t have to do anything extraneous, and now he was stuck helping you while his best friends were laughing in the other room. Within minutes, he was back, sweeping up the glass with the utmost of caution, sure to not miss even a sliver. “Take your slippers off, make sure there’s none stuck to the bottom of them.” He said, finally looking up and noticing that you hadn’t yet moved from your position. “Hey,” he said, dumping the mess of shattered plate into the garbage bin. He discarded the broom, less worried about damage control, and most worried about you.

You felt his hand on your back. It was large, warm, and radiated love just with a simple touch. He gently turned you to face him, immediately noticing the puffy eyes and red nose. He lifted your chin, softly guiding you to look at him.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed, not only embarrassed over the mess you had made, but embarrassed for crying over a broken plate.

“No apologies needed.” He whispered, the corners of his lips upturning into a small, reassuring smile. “No need to cry over a broken plate, and no need to feel bad about anything.” He leaned down, placing a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered closed, grateful that you had someone so willing to give you so much love, all of the time. “You need to take a break. You’ve been running around all day.” He said, his thumb drifting over your cheek as he spoke. “I should have helped more.”

“No, it’s okay.” You assured him. “Just tried to do too much at once, I promise I’m okay.”

“You’re overwhelmed, bug. You could’ve hurt yourself, and nobody wants that.” He said, pulling you into a hug. With your face pressed into his chest, you finally felt the tension that had been building all day come to a sudden halt. You held on to him tighter than you ever had before, surrounding yourself in him. He seemed to make everything better without even having to try.

“Ijustwantedyoutohaveagoodday.” The words were jumbled, barely audible due to your face being smooshed into his chest. He let out a chuckle, pulling back slightly to give you a chance to speak. “I just wanted you to have a good day,” you sighed, repeating yourself so he could hear you. “You’ve been working so hard, and you were so excited to just relax today, and I wanted to make sure you got that. I didn’t want to bother you, or anything.” The look he gave you surpassed shock.

“Bother me?” He asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Never.” He shut the idea down before it could grow into anything more. “And I did have a good day, y/n. Still am. You know why?”

“Why?” You answered, voice barely above a whisper.

“Because of you.” He said, cupping your cheek in his hand. “I get to wake up to you every morning, so every day is good. And the only way I have a really good day is when I know you’re okay, too.” You felt your eyes brimming with tears again, but not from the overwhelming amount of work you had piled on yourself; it was because of how loved he made you feel. “I want you to ask for help when you need it. I’d rather work hard together for twenty minutes instead of you getting overwhelmed while trying to do it all yourself.”

“I love you,” you said, finally feeling a smile creep up on you.

“I love you.” He said, more sure of those three words than anything else in the world. “Now it’s your turn to relax. Have a glass of wine, sit down, laugh for a while.”

“I only have a few more things to do, I promise I’ll come join in a minute.”

“Ah,” he warned, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes, but ultimately knew that there was no point in arguing.

“Fine.” You agreed. A triumphant smile graced his lips as he leaned down for a kiss. When his lips met yours, all of your stress melted away almost instantly. He was reluctant to pull away, so when he did, he stole another quick peck before straightening up.

“I’ll do the dishes tomorrow, and you can stay in bed all day, if you want. From now on, tonight’s about cheering you up.” He said.

“Danny-“

“Hey!” He cut you off, a chuckle following the sharp word. “Making sure you’re okay is exactly how I want to spend my night. When you’re happy, I’m happy.” Your heart swelled with affection for the boy in front of you. He raised an eyebrow, anticipating your answer. You let out a giggle, but nodded in agreement. “Seriously, take those slippers off, though. Just in case.”

“Oh, yeah.” You said, quickly shuffling out of them and leaving them where they were. He turned to the fridge, opening it and quickly locating a bottle of wine. He flashed it to you, paired with a smile that was sweeter than sugar, hoping for a stamp of approval. When you reached out to grab it, he knew you were feeling better.

You joined his side, reaching for his hand as he closed the fridge front. “Don’t ever be scared to ask for help, okay?” You gave a curt nod, knowing that you should have said something much sooner. “I love you.” He repeated it again, just to make sure you knew.

“I love you, too.” But it was impossible not to know it. He showed it in every word, action, and expression. Danny radiated love, and you knew you were the luckiest person in the whole world, because you were the one who got to receive it.

danny is so boyfriend and literally for WHAT.?

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lemoncrushh · 6 months

Text

The Entertainer - Track 01 - You Have a Great Collection

Summary: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones, a young woman from L.A., meets Harry Styles, an up-and-coming musician and frontman for the band Wildfire. Told in first person from Sky’s point of view, she shares her journey and what it’s like to fall for a rockstar.

STORY PAGE

Track 01 Word Count: 2k+

1976

My best friend Halo once told me that people come into your life for a reason. They may not stay forever, but your life is forever changed because they touched it. I didn’t know if that was true, and I suspected she was quoting one of her many poetry books, but I thought it was a nice idea.

Halo and I had a tiny apartment in Los Angeles, not exactly the best part of town, but it was ours and we were proud. We’d been friends since we were kids, bonding more in our teens over our mutual love for music. One night we went to a club and saw a couple of bands. One of them particularly stood out to me, some up and coming band that had just gotten signed. I’d thought they were great, true musicians with tons of potential, the singer obviously already a well-established front man who resembled Mick Jagger. I’d been excited to meet them after the show, but it wasn’t meant to be. Halo had started to feel ill and we had to leave early. I’d since forgotten the name of the band, but I remembered the singer’s name. Harry Styles. How perfect is that for a name? Nobody could forget you if your name was Harry Styles. It almost sounds made up, yet no one in their right mind would choose that as a stage name.

Two weeks later, I sat cross-legged on my rug flipping through my record albums when Halo walked in, suggesting we have some friends over. By “friends” I knew that was her way of saying she’d met a guy, but so as not to leave me out, she would invite some other people over too. I shrugged and told her that was fine. Our get togethers usually ended up growing anyway, as long as someone was providing the liquor and someone else provided the pot.

I heard the doorbell ring, but I didn’t bother to get up since I knew Halo would answer the door. A few minutes later, I heard her call my name.

“Sky! Our guests are here!”

I stood up, stopping in the doorway. My eyes widened when I saw who stood in the middle of my living room. The band. That band. That Harry Styles guy and the rest of his band.

“Hey,” I nervously waved my hand until they all looked at me.

“Hi there, love!” said one of the guys. Drummer I think. Oh great, he’s British, I thought. I had a soft spot for British accents.

“Sky, this is Lee, Mitch, Harry and Deacon. Wildfire.” Oh yeah. “Everyone, this is Sky.”

“Hello, Sky!” they all said in unison. Harry, however, stepped forward and held out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he greeted. Great, he’s British too. And really fucking attractive.

“Nice to meet you,” I said casually, shaking his hand.

“Sorry to crash your little soiree, but Mitch here said we could come with.”

“Oh, right on,” I replied, having no clue what he just said.

Mitch I learned later, the lead guitarist of the band, had somehow run into Halo at some music festival in the park where she’d recognized him from the club. Leave it to Halo.

The evening was filled with drinks, smokes and laughs. I liked all of the guys almost immediately, and eventually some of our other friends and neighbors joined us as well.

A little before midnight, I went to my room to fetch something, probably some more rolling papers, when I heard a knock behind me. Harry stood leaning against my doorway, an easy grin on his face. I’d decided I liked his face. It was kind, yet masculine with a nice combination of angles and curves. And I really liked his smile.

“Hey,” I said. “C’mon in.”

Harry sauntered in, one long bootleg after the other, stopping next to me at my dresser.

“This is your room?” he inquired.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

Harry looked around, seeming to inspect it all - the Led Zeppelin poster above my bed, the white comforter and lace pillow shams, the stuffed animals on the shelf, the tambourine on my nightstand, the beaded curtain that separated my closet, the collection of trinkets and frames on my bureau.

“Nice,” he nodded.

Then he noticed my guitar in the corner.

“You play?”

“A little.”

Harry grabbed it and sat on the bed.

“It might need tuning,” I said just as I noticed he was doing just that. When he seemed satisfied, he plucked some strings and went into a chord progression. It sounded familiar. But when he started singing low, I recognized it as one of his band’s songs that they performed at the club.

“Meet me in the hallway Meet me in the hallway I just left your bedroom Give me some morphine Is there any more to do”

I leaned against my dresser, fiddling absentmindedly with the locket around my neck, watching Harry give a private performance to me, even if he barely even knew I was in the room. When he finished, he laid the guitar on the bed and looked up at me. I smiled.

“I like that song.”

“Yeah? Thanks.”

“Did you write it?”

Harry nodded. “I wrote all our songs.”

“Far out.”

A dimple dipped in his cheek when he smiled at me, and I felt myself blush. Harry rose from the bed then and bent down in front of my stack of albums.

“May I?”

“Of course,” I gestured.

Harry sat down, crossing his long legs, and went through each and every one of my records. The Beatles. The Rolling Stones. Elvis Presley. The Who. Led Zeppelin. Queen. Joni Mitchell. Eagles. Elton John. Billy Joel. Gladys Knight & The Pips. Stevie Wonder. Jimi Hendrix. Bob Dylan. Linda Ronstadt, Fleetwood Mac, The Temptations. Jim Croce, The Carpenters and Bread. Rod Stewart, Al Green, Kiss and The Doors. Simon & Garfunkel, Van Morrison, James Taylor, The Jackson 5. All of it. When he’d completed the stack, he looked up at me with child-like eyes.

“You have a great collection.”

“Thanks.”

Running a hand through his hair, he hesitated before asking his next question.

“Can I play something?”

“Please do.”

Pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger, Harry flipped through a few more albums before settling on one. Rising from the floor, he slid the vinyl out of the sleeve and gently set it on the turntable. Then with great precision, he let the needle fall.

I recognized the low sound, the slow build in the gloomy track. He’d chosen Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.

“Good choice,” I remarked.

“You’re a big music fan.” It wasn’t a question, but an acknowledgement, a statement of fact.

“Very much.”

“Me too.”

I sat on the bed then as I watched Harry walk around the room. He picked up the frames on my dresser, inspecting each one before setting them back down. I wasn’t sure what it was about my bedroom, but Harry seemed to be very comfortable in it. Picking up the last photo, he held it out to me.

“Is that your dog?” he asked.

“No, that was Halo’s dog. A long time ago. I think I took that photo in junior high. His name was Comet,” I giggled.

Harry furrowed his brows and glared at me.

“I don’t get it.”

“You know…Haley’s comet. Halo’s real name is Haley.”

“Oh.”

I giggled harder, maybe due to nerves, or maybe due to the weed. I had to admit Harry looked really cute when he was confused, like he’d just realized he’d been left out of some inside joke.

“Why do they call her Halo, anyway?”

“That’s kind of my fault,” I replied. “It’s supposed to be a reference to T. Rex.”

“What?”

“You know. ‘Bang A Gong’. The ‘hubcap diamond star halo’ line.”

“Oh. Yeah, I know the song.”

I shrugged. “Halo’s a big Marc Bolan fan. So a few years ago I just kind of started calling her that and she liked it, so it stuck.”

Harry nodded, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m gonna take a wild stab at it that Sky is not your real name either.”

I shifted my gaze as I sucked in my lips. Harry chuckled, but asked no further questions. Instead, he made his way around my entire room, picking up things and setting them down while singing along to Elton John.

“Love lies bleeding in my hands…”

That was the first time Harry Styles was at my apartment. But it wasn’t the last.

Halo and Mitch had sort of become a thing…though what thing exactly I couldn’t tell you. Halo had always been a little more on the wild side than I was, although I liked to think I could hold my own. But…to put it nicely…Halo was kind of a groupie.

So because Mitch was at our place a lot, so was Harry. Lee and Deacon tagged along sometimes, and a few of those times they had a girl with them, but most of the time it was just Harry and Mitch. They seemed to be a package deal. Like Mick and Keith. I was okay with it. I liked them both, even if they did drink all our beer and smoke all our weed. They were good company.

One night after Halo and I went to watch the band’s rehearsal, they all joined us back at our place. We sat around the table playing cards until the chicks Lee and Deacon had brought, Sylvia and Jennifer I think, got bored and asked to be taken home. Shortly thereafter, Mitch and Halo snuck off to her room.

“Are you bored?” I asked from across the empty bottle-cluttered table.

“No. Are you?”

“No.”

“Good. Then I’ll stay.”

Harry rose from his chair and crossed the carpet to the living room where he turned on the television. I smiled, even if it was just to the back of his head.

“Midnight Special’s on,” he said.

“Cool.”

I joined him on the sofa where we watched Helen Reddy and Fleetwood Mac. During a commercial I got up to use the restroom and when I returned, I noticed Harry made it a point to scoot closer to me. He laid his head on my shoulder while Christine McVie sang “I’m over my head…but it sure feels nice,” and once again, I found myself smiling.

I thought he might be asleep when the show was ending, but Harry surprised me by nuzzling my neck. I felt no lips, but he was definitely trying to get my attention, like a little lapdog.

“Sky?” I heard him murmur.

“Yes?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“Um…” Did he…mean…with me? Or…?

“I’ll just crash on your couch,” he answered my nonverbal question. “I’m just beat, and I don’t feel like driving home.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. No problem. I’ll…get you a pillow and a blanket.”

“Thanks.”

I fetched the items from the linen closet while Harry went to the bathroom. While I was tucking the sheet into the cushions, he returned.

“Aw babe, you didn’t have to do all that.”

“Couch is kinda itchy,” I shrugged.

“You’re lovely. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Harry sat on the makeshift bed and kicked off his shoes. When he laid down, I covered him with a blanket, laughing at his socked feet sticking out over the arm of the sofa. He smirked at me and wiggled his toes.

“You sure it’s okay?” I asked him.

“Of course. I’m eternally grateful.”

“Okay then. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

I turned towards my room, stopping to turn off the light.

“Harry?” I whispered in the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“You’re welcome to crash on my couch anytime.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with a yawn. “Goodnight.”

No telling how long I lied awake in bed that night. A couple times I could hear a few squeaks and moans coming from the other side of the wall, but that’s not what kept me awake. I wondered if Harry was sleeping. And if he wasn’t, what he might be thinking about. And if he was, what he might be dreaming about. And if either of those things included me.

This was a short little chapter, but it gets better lol. Hope you liked it.

Songs mentioned here:

Harry Styles - Meet Me In The Hallway (obviously)

T. Rex - Bang a Gong (Get It On)

Elton John - Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding

Fleetwood Mac - Over My Head

FEEDBACK IS LOVE xo

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jqmalikhsgib · 6 months

Text

bloom

five

Meet Corroded Coffin, The Up And Coming band of today!

Corroded Coffin was discovered by rock legend, Ozzy Osborne. He saw the band preform and instantly thought of his own band, Black Sabbath and just had to sign them.

“They reminded me so much of us,” Says Osborne. “I just had to get them in the studio immediately!”

Corroded Coffin started off as just four boys with a dream. The band formed when lead singer and guitarist, Eddie Munson met his best friend, Gareth playing his drums in his parents garage.

The two instantly looked for more outcast, such as themselves, to form a band! That’s when they met Jeff, who plays guitar, and Doug who plays bass. Corroded Coffin soon being born.

The group later got gigs in their small town in Indiana at the hideout. From then they’ve continued to jam out and only hoped their dreams of making it big became a reality.

As the years went by they got more and more love from people all over the world, including love from the band Metallica.

The metal group saw them jamming out on Instagram live and immediately shouted the band out! From then on they received more and more gigs from all around the world until soon being discovered.

“It was so fucking insane!” Doug points out. “To be notice by some of our favorite artists, it’s still surreal.”

“We have over ten million followers on our official site. When we opened Instagram the night we got verified it felt fucking sick!” Gareth states.

But the band isn’t the only dreams they have! Obviously being a big as they’ve gotten over night, a lot of their fans are curious about their personal lives.

They didn’t give too much detail, wanting to keep some things to themselves, but lead singer, Eddie Munson had spilled a little about his life outside of being a rockstar!

“This has been my dream for a while. Finally being noticed, having more and more gigs, traveling around the world, releasing an album, and eventually getting my family the fuck outta Hawkins.”

“Your uncle, right?”

Eddie laughs before shaking his head. “Naw, that old geysers gonna die in that town. Trust me, I’ve been trying to convince him to leave Hawkins for years. He loves it there.” Eddie states.

“Oh? Does that mean you’re not a bachelor, Munson?”

“Naw, man! Left that behind me years ago.”

“You just broke a million girls hearts.”

Eddie laughs and shakes his head. He seemed amused that people didn’t know he had a family.

“I got a whole football team of kids, man! Six beautiful ones. One boy and five girls! I’m currently engaged to the woman I’ve known almost my whole life! She’s my whole world.” Eddie points.

The man goes to state his love for his family before slowing drifting the conversation back to his music.

“They all encourage me with my music! A lot of the songs I’ve written just myself are about them! That’s what the band and I try to do when it comes to our own sound! We use our own voices, our own experiences, our own heartbreaks, and love stories and put them into words. We share them with one another and whichever ones we like, we record the sound!”

“Exactly! A lot of bands don’t have that. I think when it comes to it, having your own individual interests is important! It’s what makes us stand out a bit.” Jeff states.

“We obviously write a few songs together, maybe even change a lyric or two in each others individual work, but ultimately, we try to make sure our music reflects who we are, not just together, but individually.” Gareth finished.

There you have it folks, Corroded Coffins gonna take over the world soon. There next single, Lullaby comes out next friday. Check it out!

#jqhotchner #eddie munson x reader #jqhotchner masterlist #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie stranger things #dad!eddie munson x reader #rockstar eddie munson #modern eddie munson #eddie munson #bloom jqhotchner #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fake texts #fiancé eddie munson

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boogiewrites · 2 years

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Unnamed Single Dad/Older Eddie fic - Intro

Single Dad/Older Eddie Munson x f!reader

Reader recently divorced, moves back to her hometown to try to find herself. She finds an old almost-flame from her past to spend her time with. He was always a bit chaotic and messy. And still seems to be. But after a decade of gala's, academia, and white-collar work - maybe that's exactly what she wants.

PART ONE IS NOW UP! FIND IT HERE!

You walked down the stairs from your apartment onto the street. The sunset painted the town in nostalgia. Muted colors like looking back into your memories surrounded you. It all felt different and somehow exactly the same. You’d been back for about a month now. But with the exception of holidays, you haven't spent any time in Hawkins for over a decade. You didn’t even go to your 10-year high school reunion. You’d had no expectations of coming back here. Certainly not without an exit date firmly scheduled prior. But life is funny that way. You never expect to get divorced when you get married. You never expect to quit what once was your dream job. You never expect to move back to your hometown in some potentially pathetic, you hadn't decided yet, attempt to find yourself. Along with a lot of other lessons you were finally learning, expecting the unexpected was one being driven into your life hard.

So when you wandered the towns Main Street and saw the old record store you hadn't expected, but maybe you should have, the man standing behind the counter to be the boy who helped form most of those happy memories you’d come back home to revisit.

“We close in like 5 minutes. I can check you out if you know what you want but at 9 you’re getting kicked out.” He didn’t look up from the book of numbers he was staring at on the checkout desk.

“Oh shit. I didn’t look at your hours on the door. Sorry. I’ll leave.” You rush out, not even looking at the guy, his hair hiding his face as he leaned on the counter. You’d barely taken in the familiar space before feeling like a burden.

But then you hear your name called to your back as your hand sits on the door handle. That voice. You hadn’t heard your name said like that in so long. Not just from him but in a way that made it sound like someone was genuinely happy to see you.

“Eddie?” It leaves your slightly parted lips before you even verify the owner of the now much deeper, voice. It’s still cracked and popped when you heard it last. A young man with his training wheels freshly off was now grown before you. He looked so different. And just like the town… somehow exactly the same.

“Holy shit it is you!” his face lit up, it was a wonderful sight. Eddie was always a big emoter, being absolute shit at hiding how he felt on his face. And right now he was happy to see you. Your face was a bit more hesitant, only for the heavy smack of memories you were drowning in as you shared a silent smile, eyes very boldly meeting one another's.

“It’s me.” you held out your hands in a jazzy presentation of yourself that made him laugh.

“What are you doing here? Oh shit, is everyone okay?” His face went from curious to concerned in a flash.

“Oh yeah, the family’s fine.” you finally stepped forward and dismissed his concern with a wave of your hand. “I moved back.” he could see the way your jaw tensed when you said it. Last he’d heard you were married and working some white-collar job and doing just fine. He certainly hadn’t expected you to walk into his shop on a random Tuesday. He wanted to ask a hundred questions that had all poured into his brain but withheld.

“How long have you been back?” he got away with looking at your hands, checking for a wedding band as they ran through your hair nervously. There wasn’t one. That gave him plenty of answers to sate his intrusive tendencies. Little did he know you’d already looked at his ring finger to see the same.

“A few weeks. Not long. Just got settled into the apartment on 3rd street. Pure luck it opened up when I was looking.”

“An apartment?” he had a playful smile as he quirked his brow. “Would’ve pinned you for a house sorta girl.”

“Needed a change.” you wrinkled your nose, vague answers meant you weren’t ready to talk about it. Which he understood.

“I heard they re-did those recently.”

“Yeah, it’s way nicer than I expected. Overlooks the park which is very cute. And is a hell of a lot cheaper than my mortgage was.” a genuine smile graced your face, and the sense of relief wasn’t missed by him in your voice.

“Tell me about it.” he groaned and slapped the open book in front of him.

“Oh, doing the books?” you leaned forward curiously, intimately familiar with the layout of the paper before him. “Wait. Why are you doing the accounting?” you didn’t hide the confusion on your face as you looked back up at a smirking Eddie. His hair was the same save for the lack of bangs, a change with the times. He had a past 5 o clock shadow and light circles under his eyes. You knew you had the signs of wear and age on your face now as well.

“Because I own the place?” he tilted his head to the side and chuckled. “You don’t have to look SO surprised.” he then broke into a laugh.

“Sorry! I just. Wow.” you shook your head.

“Give me a little credit. I’ve grown up since you last knew me.” a playful defensiveness was apparent in his shaking curls as he challenged your slack jaw at the news.

“I’m sure you have. Sorry. I didn’t mean to -”

“Shut up. I’m fucking with you.” the deepness of his voice bloomed out of a laughing chest. “I do own it but I agree I didn’t scream responsible business owner at 18.” he grinned. “I started working here shortly after you left and ten years later Mr. Orison wanted to retire and well…” he motioned to the room then let his arms slap to his sides.

“Good for you. Seriously. Running a business is fucking hard. People don’t realize it.”

“Yeah neither did I when I bought it.” he bent over and ran his hand through his hair, elbows to the countertop.

“I used to crunch numbers all day for a living so I get it. I’ll leave you to it. It’s past 9 anyway, I think you’re supposed to kick me out.” you smiled brightly, you felt the strain in your cheeks. It’d been a long, long time since you’d smiled so big.

“You get to be an exception to the rule. You can wander around if you want. I don’t care.”

“No, no. I know you need to focus. I’ll get out of your hair.” you take a few steps back. “I could come back when you aren’t busy?” you offered, a raise of one shoulder to your chin.

“Yeah! Yes.” he cleared his throat and nodded enthusiastically, spooling out some blank receipt paper. “Since you’re back-back we should catch up.” he dabbed the pen to his tongue to get it to work, and a few shakes and grunts later he was writing his number down. “And I don’t mean in that fake reunion - oh my god let’s get coffee sometime kinda way.” he looked up, hang dancing over his papers as a fuller face than you recalled smiled at you.

“Glad we’re on the same page. I need some friends. Not gonna lie.” you chuckle nervously and give a purposely strained smile.

“Lucky for you, we are built-in friends.” he holds out the paper as you step back toward him.

“Good.” you say softly, ripping part of the paper and writing down your own information. “You’re busier than me right now so feel free to call me whenever and we can go not get coffee.” you joke and he accepts it heartily.

“You drink?”

“Not as well as I used to.” you laugh.

“That’sthefuckintruth.” he grumbled. “I’ll hit you up and we’ll go to the old Hideout. We’ll be two old schmo’s reminiscing just like the people we used to make fun of.”

“Sounds perfect.” the relief of something casual and easy flooded you. There was no pretentious pretext, no formalwear to buy, or people to schmooze. Beers, a dive bar, and an old friend sounded close to heaven after the way you’d spent the last decade. “See ya soon.” you wiggle your fingers in a wave before Eddie watches you walk down the street and out of sight, locking the door behind you.

“Well, shit.” he didn’t have to hide his smile now, chuckling to himself, rubbing his face as he walked back to the counter. “She’s back.” he talked to himself, no one else was around, and being alone was a rarity for him these days. He gathered up his books and looked at the mirror in the hall on the way to the back office. “And single.” he said to his reflection before looking over it and frowning at the sight. He looked fucking tired. In all fairness he was. “And you’re a struggling single dad with two jobs.” he sighed and looked away from the mirror. A reality check he needed was cashed to himself. He wasn’t exactly relationship material at the moment with barely any time for himself let alone dating someone. You were used to money and the city and some fancy pants professor was your ex-husband. What’s a small-town mechanic with a sob story, a kid, and a treading water business going to offer you? He groaned, his annoyance clear on his face as he plopped into the old creaky leather chair. Little did he know, that craving a slice of real life, something raw and passionate, full of imperfections was exactly why you’d left your husband and old life behind. He had more to offer than old romantic nostalgia. He just didn’t know it yet.

#eddie munson #eddie munson wip #eddie munson fic #eddie munson reader #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson female reader #eddie munson f!reader #eddie munon x f!reader #eddie munson/female reader #eddie munson/f!reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson au #older!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson

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cherrylng · 6 days

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Muse Relay Interview - Part 3 - Chris Wolstenholme [INROCK (December 2012)]

Long-awaited show in Japan in January! Muse 3-month relay interview No.3: Chris Wolstenholme

"The rumour that Matthew died in a car crash was sickening."

Chris Wolstenholme/Muse INTERVIEW: P.G. BRUNELLI/INROCK

Chris Wolstenholme is the member of Muse who has had the most personal troubles. While Matthew and Dominic are very sensitive when it comes to their health, Chris has been battling with his own inner demons for years. Although he frequently quits smoking and has also faced alcohol problems for some years, he has apparently succeeded in quitting drinking. Although he has never had any drug-related problems, he has nevertheless led a very rock ‘n’ roll life behind the facade of being a father of six children for the last 13 years. Now, for the first time, Chris is taking vocals on two songs on Muse's latest album ‘The 2nd Law’. Until now, there has been no information about his singing ability, and this must come as a big surprise to listeners. The content of the album is also very different, almost the opposite of the others, and it sounds like a disappointment, even in a good way. Did you write these two songs yourself? Chris Wolstenholme (b.): Yeah, I wrote both songs. I wrote a lot of others and played them to the rest of the band, but these two songs are the best ones out of all of them, and they fit the content of the album. We wanted to try something we hadn't done before this time anyway, and these two songs were new sounds that fit that. When we were originally writing the songs we were going to have Matthew (Bellamy, vo./keys./g.) sing on them, but after the songs were finished the three of us discussed it and decided that I should sing on them because the lyrics are very personal. I thought it would make more sense if I sang it. I think it adds a new dimension to the band with me on vocals, and I think it's going to have a big impact on the listeners to have a different singer singing a completely new Muse song.

When I spoke to Matthew the other day, he said that this album is much more personal than his previous work, and these two songs that you wrote are also very personal, so they seem to fit in well with Matthew's writing, don't they? Chris: Yeah, yeah, I think so. We didn't discuss the lyrics beforehand, so until we recorded the vocals, I had no idea that Matthew was writing these personal songs, and I didn't expect the songs to match each other so well. But Matthew's right, this album is much more personal than the last few albums we've made, it's very human, it's based on relationships and personal things that we've experienced ourselves. That's very unusual for this band.

Especially in your case, you've been through so much in the last few years, with all the tragedies and break-ups, personal troubles, and the birth of your child, there's no reason why you wouldn't write a song about that. Chris: Yeah, exactly. I think when you go through that much in your life, whether it's positive or negative, it's very natural to want to write lyrics and songs about it. I think in the last three years we've each gone through some big changes (PG note: in Chris' case, alcohol problems and the birth of his 5th & 6th children) and the way we write lyrics has changed with that.

"I've always had a drinking problem and was battling my inner demons."

Does it make you feel a little better to put your thoughts into lyrics? What exactly are you singing about in these two songs? Chris: Basically, they're both about the different changes that happen in life. I was in a very bad place for a while and I thought I was never going to get out of it. I'm specifically referring to a time when I was battling my own demons. I'd had a problem with alcohol for a long time and I finally decided to face it, and when I did, my life did a complete 180. It was a really great feeling. Well, to be honest, it was a very strange experience to confront something that had been a part of me for such a long time and to kick it out of my life. Anyway, both songs are based on that experience, and they're both about the same thing from different angles. And they're both full of anger. "Liquid State" is about the presence of something inside you that tries to tear you down. There's a part of me that's a human being trying to get back on my feet and there's a part of me that's a demon trying to lead me to a dark place, and it's really tearing me apart. It's messing with my head a lot. "Save Me" is more about coming to your senses after those hard times, and I know it sounds a bit corny, but it's about realising that your family and your children have always been there for you through it all. My family has always been there for me through all the hard times and they have always given me hope, and I think that's what got me through the hard times.

You moved to the outskirts of Dublin to get away from your problems, but then you moved back to London because of the recording sessions there, didn't you? What made you decide to move back to the big city? Did you have the option to stay on the outskirts of Dublin? Chris: I moved to Ireland because I wanted to get out of Teignmouth anyway. I'd just come off alcohol at that time and I wanted to start all over in a new place. That said, I didn't really want to live in London. I don't know why, but I just didn't think living in London was not a good idea for me at the time. It was very quiet and peaceful outside of Dublin and I had a lot of great times with my family. Those times were very important to me. But you can't record a band in Dublin, and I had to do a lot of interviews and stuff besides recording, so I ended up having to fly to London quite a lot. But then it took five hours to get to London, and I couldn't do it in the same day, so I had to go back to the hotel, and that kind of life just didn't suit me. I realised the importance of my family and how they were a stabiliser for me, and I started to realise that I needed them to be close to my work too. So I finally moved to London. I wanted to make my life simpler.

You're known as the rock element to Muse, but did you have to change your mind about the electronic content of the album? Chris: I don't know if I bring a rock element to the band, but if I do, it's something that happens naturally. It's just the way I play and the sound of the bass. I think ‘United States of Eurasia’ on the last album is a good example of that. Matthew's idea was that it was originally a ballad, but once I played it, it stopped being a ballad. Matthew liked the fact that there was still a rock element to it, even though it was based on piano and he didn't play guitar.

Last November, there were rumours that Muse were breaking up… Chris: Yeah, that was funny. There's a lot of funny rumours on the internet that make me laugh. The one about Matthew being killed in a motorcar accident was a bit creepy though. Rumours like that spread quickly. At first people believe them, and then ten minutes later they realise it's not true. People who take these stories seriously and spread them must have a lot of time on their hands.

Is it true that you proposed to Richard Branson (founder of the British giant Virgin Group) that you wanted to perform in space? Is that just another rumour? Chris: It's true. I really did talk to him about it. Maybe one day it will happen. It would be great to be the first band to play in space. But I don't know if we'd actually be able to play our instruments because of the gravity and all. I don't think my hands move as fast as I'd like.

You guys used to write and record in a very isolated environment and didn't have much of a public image, but recently you've become more connected to the outside world through social media and whatnot? Is it the influence of Twitter and Facebook? Chris: I think there's definitely some influence from social media. Subconsciously, though. I mean, I don't think we've ever completely separated ourselves from the world before. Well, in our case, we've never been tabloid fodder, so maybe that's what people think. When we appear in newspapers and magazines, it's not for personal reasons, it's because of our music. We don't get in the gossip papers because of where we've been walking. Anyway, thanks to the spread of Twitter and Facebook, we can communicate with our family and fans, and I think that's very important nowadays. Fans love being part of the band. There used to be a huge barrier between the band and the fans, but now you can connect on those websites anytime, even when you're recording, and it's great to be able to spend five minutes on Twitter and make a lot of people happy.

Do you tweet a lot yourself? Chris: No, sometimes. I don't post every day, maybe two or three times a month if I do. But I try to spend a couple of hours at a time on it, and I talk to a lot of fans during that time. It's a lot of fun and it's very interesting to see what kind of people are listening to our music.

"It's a really valuable experience and a great honour to be part of a global event like the Olympics."

Do you ever take time off to be on your own, away from the band and your extended family? Chris: Over the last few years I've learnt the importance of taking time off and I think I'm getting better at balancing my band and my personal life. From the time of our debut to about our second or third album, it was hard to do that. It was really hard back then. We weren't successful yet, so we had to do everything on our own for that, and we had to work a lot anyway (PG note: I think they were successful enough from the start…). We were so busy, there was no time off at all. But as we got older and a bit wiser, we finally realised that we wouldn't be able to survive as a band for a long time to come without our own lives away from the band. We can't devote 24 hours a day to the band anymore like we used to. If we kept doing that, we would lose our lives. So I think we've found a good balance now. Like I said, that's why I moved to London. I can go home on my days off while I'm touring Europe. I couldn't do that before. Anyway, the most important thing is to find a balance. The right balance for the band and the right balance for the family. If you're miserable in the band, you're probably miserable in your personal life, and if you're miserable in your personal life, you're probably miserable in the band. You have to be happy on both sides. To do that, we have to strike a balance.

"Survival" is the official song of the London Olympics. Did you write it when you were offered the chance to write the theme song or did you just give them the song as it was written from the beginning? Chris: It could be described as both. When we started working on the album, it was mentioned that we might have something to do with the Olympics. So there was talk about that before we wrote that song, and it's true that we felt inspired by that, but at the same time, we originally wrote it as a song for the album, just like any other song. It wasn't until after we had finished recording that the Olympics officially asked us if we could prepare the song. So we told them that the song was inspired by the Olympics, even though it was on the album, and we played them the song and they liked it. Now I'm going to perform at the closing ceremony and it will be the first time I've played in front of such a big TV audience and it's a really rare experience and a great honour to be part of such a world-class event. It's a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Last year you guys were chosen as the support band for the Rage Against The Machine reunion show, how did that feel? Chris: It was great. It was a real, real honour. That band is one of those bands that never gets old. Basically you listen to music for a few years and then you get bored of it and never listen to it again, but with them you can listen to them anytime and their sound never gets old. I'm still as passionate about them as I was when I was 15, and they're the only band that all three of us share a common admiration for. It was like a dream come true to be on the same stage with them. I mean, just to be able to see them perform that close up was amazing, I've never really heard a band as loud as they are. And they always put on a great show, they've never put on a bad show. I know that over the last few years the band members have had some personal differences that have separated them, but before they go on stage they give each other strong hugs, and it's very touching to see that. It's nice to see that no matter how much they may hate each other, when they go on stage they only focus on the music and be supportive of each other.

The music scene has changed a lot in the last ten years, how do you think you've changed as musicians yourselves? Chris: After 10 years, the music you listen to will change, and your influences will change as well. When I was about 17, there were only a few bands I liked and I didn't listen to anything else, I was a hard rock fan, so all I listened to was Deftones and Helmet, and my perspective was very narrow. But as I got older, I started listening to other genres of music, and I think my horizons have broadened and I've grown a lot as a musician. Of course, there have been a lot of changes within the band over the last ten years. For example, "Showbiz" is a simple rock album that is almost one-sided, but from "Origin of Symmetry" onwards, you can start to hear influences from other genres of music. “Space Dementia” had a piano and classical elements, and “Megalomania” had a very unique sound. And in the next album, "Absolution", you can hear a new groove in the bass line. Of course, there are still rock songs like “Time is Running Out”, but “Endlessly” is the first time we have electronic elements. Anyway, we are constantly evolving as musicians and our own taste and style is evolving too. We listen to a lot more music and are more open to different things. So we are a rock band that is open to a lot of influences from outside the rock world.

Translator's Note: Translating these old interviews can be both amusing and wild at times. It's a look back in time of certain stuff that you'd missed out on and be able to have a "Wait, what" moment from the gossip that went on back then.

Please do support me with my Ko-fi! ☕

#Chris Wolstenholme #Muse #Muse band #The 2nd Law era #my scan #translation #interview #INROCK #INROCK December 2012

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