#carton records

[burlveneer-music]

No Tongues - Ici

sound of the drizzle hitting the skylight, summer bonfire at la caillère, chimes in le bono’s cinerary garden, pat patrol’s phone beep beep, a jogger, a tap, patrick’s bees, the oven before cooking the pizza, a regional express train, a hst, a belt sander… alan regardin | trumpet & objects ronan courty | contrabass & objects ronan prual | contrabass matthieu prual | sax & bass clarinet isabel sorling sur kulning linda olah sur chien chien elsa corre sur parrandada de entroido loup uberto sur fronni d'alia artwork by antoine baillargeau

[thoughtswordsaction]

Parquet - Sparkles & Mud CD (Carton Records)

Parquet - Sparkles & Mud CD (Carton Records)

Parquet‘s “Sparkles & Mud” serves as a thrilling exploration that pushes the boundaries of the genre by blending techno, post-rock, experimental, and avant-garde influences into a mindblowing sonic tapestry. Right with the initial notes and beats, “Sparkles & Mud” fascinates with its experimentation. Parquet fearlessly explores many complementary music genres like abrasive techno, experimental…

[donospl]

Europe Jazz Media Chart - Październik 2023

Wybór nowości muzycznych, które pojawiły się w bieżącym miesiącu, dokonany przez grupę czołowych europejskich magazynów i witryn jazzowych. A selection of the hot new music surfacing across the continent this month by the top European jazz magazines and websites. Gard Nilssen’s Supersonic Orchestra «Family» (WeJazz) Krzysztof Komorek, Donos kulturalny, Polska Gard Nilssen’s Supersonic…

[inkmaze]

life is full of small joys!!! <- just got (2) double yolked eggs in a row

[sydney-carton-of-sour-milk]

it’s an off-week from my illustrators series and I have neither an interesting miscellaneous factoid nor a funny memey joke to post…you know what that means…

[babyboybuckley]

Ok I would like to say something but it's a bit heavy so I'm gonna say it in the tags

[popsixsquishcicerolipschitz]

La classe Fi Las Vegas Mazalda - Topic

· Sofiane Saidi

· Mazalda El Ndjoum

℗ Airfono / Carton Records

Released on: 2018-03-30

Lyricist: Sofiane Saidi

Composer: Adrien Spirli

Composer: Lucas Spirli

[psalmsofpsychosis]

All disappears in gathering silence Time quickens patiently Through the wind I turn to say One more, "I love you" That fades away

[chancloud8]

Teach Me {3}

<< previous chapter || next chapter >> series masterlist

Pairing: Felix x Reader, Hyunjin x Reader

Word Count: 3,4k

Tags: fluff, kissing, neck kisses, friends to ?

Summary: you finally talk with all the guys about their offer. felix shows you the wonders of neck kisses and hyunjin can't help but join the fun.

a/n: for some reason this chapter took me forever. from now on more of the guys will get with reader and it will get steamier every chapter ;)

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

You call Chan when you're in the elevator, your phone pressed between your cheek and your shoulder as you wait for him to pick up. Multiple plastic bags filled with food hang on your wrists and in your hands you have carton holders filled with drinks.

'Come on,' you mutter slightly annoyed when Chan isn't answering.

You knew you should have called literally any of the other guys. Chan usually has his phone muted while he's working and while you don't blame him for that, it's definitely annoying now.

The doors of the elevator open, showing an empty hallway with absolutely no where to put down the drinks for a bit. With a curse you shuffle forward, holding onto the cartons with dear life as you pray for more strength.

'STRAY KIDS!' you yell, hoping your voice will carry through the walls.

You might be at a recording studio, but only the actual booth they sing in is fully soundproof. It only takes about five seconds before a door opens and Changbin and Seungmin stick their heads out, a curious look adorning their faces.

'Help?' you let out, smiling hopefully at them.

The both of them rush forward. Changbin reaches you first and takes over the cartons with drinks. Seungmin is next and he carefully pulls your phone from its place between your cheek and shoulder, putting it in his pocket and helping you with the bags of food.

'Why didn't you call us?' he asks, frowning down at you.

'I did!' you argue. 'I just made the mistake to dial Chan.'

Changbin laughs ahead of you. 'You should know better, Bunny.'

You grumble under your breath and follow them inside the room, closing the door behind you. The guys are all piled up on the two couches again, scrolling on their phones, with the exception of Chan who's behind his laptop with his headphones on.

'How long has he been like that?' you ask, getting the attention of everyone in the room but Chan.

'Y/N! You're here!' Jeongin waves at you from where he lays upside down on the couch.

'Didn't you hear me yell?' you laugh, gesturing to Changbin and Seungmin who are putting out the food you brought.

'They're too obsessed with their phones,' Seungmin says, rolling his eyes.

Felix gets up from the couch to hug you and Hyunjin follows, kissing your cheek.

'Thanks for bringing us food,' they chorus together as if they practised it beforehand.

You giggle at them and open your arms to hug Jeongin who dribbles your way like he drank way too much caffeine. You're about to ask him about it when he surprises you by pulling you against his body and kissing your lips. It's just a quick and soft peck, but it still takes your breath away and when he pulls away you blink up at him dumbly.

'INNIE,' Hyunjin screeches in surprise while Felix bursts out in laughter. 

Jeongin giggles and shrugs, calmly walking back to the couch like nothing happened. 

'Baby bread, what was that?' Lee Know's voice sounds from behind you and you turn around in confusion. 

Where did he come from? Had he been in the room before? You hadn't noticed him before now. 

He smiles down at you and pats your head. 'Will you go get Chan and Sungie? We have dance practice after dinner.' 

You nod and still a little dazed, you move to where Chan still hadn't noticed you arrived. You put your hands over his eyes from behind him and he startles, letting out a funny sound before ripping his headphones from his head. 

'Y/N?' he asks when he hears you giggle. 

'How did you know it was me?' you ask as you remove your hands so he can turn around and face you. 

'You have tiny soft hands and Felix wouldn't dare startle me like this when I'm working,' Chan says, grabbing your wrists and pulling you forward into a hug. 

It's a bit of an awkward position because he's still sitting down, but you bury your face in his neck anyways. Chan always gave the best hugs. 

'Come on, I brought food,' you say, pulling back. 'Where's Hannie?' 

'Here!' Jisung's voice sounds from behind you and you feel a soft tap against your ass. 

'Hey!' you laugh, turning around, but Jisung was already tackling Lee Know to the ground for a piece of fried chicken.

You watch them fondly for a while, Chan doing the same behind you, but then his stomach growls loudly and you turn to glare at him. 

'Christopher, when did you last eat?' you ask him sternly, holding out your hand for him to help him up. 

He takes your hand, but instead of answering he leads you towards the table filled with the food you brought and fills his mouth with chicken so he doesn't have to say anything. 

You narrow your eyes and point your finger at him. 'I'm going to make Lee Know kick your ass at dance practice.' 

Chan's eyes widen comically and Lee Know laughs from his spot on the floor, giving you a thumbs up. 

'Y/N, come eat,' Felix says, patting the spot behind him. 

You move to sit between him and Hyunjin and accept the chopsticks Changbin hands you from Felix's other side. Seungmin slides a plate your way, every inch of it covered in different kinds of sushi and meat and you smile at him in thanks before popping a piece of beef in your mouth. 

'Is no one going to talk about Innie kissing Y/N?' Hyunjin asks, glancing between you and Jeongin with his eyebrows raised, a piece of sushi hangs between his chopsticks as he waits for anyone to say something. 

'There's nothing to talk about Hyung,' Jeongin replies, reaching for his drink. 'We kissed yesterday too.' 

'What?' Hyunjin drops his chopsticks. 'Seriously?' 

'You didn't tell them?' you laugh, a bit surprised since you thought he would have texted them when you left. 

'He told me,' Chan says between bites.

'You were basically there for the show,' you roll your eyes at him. 'I thought you guys would have talked about this. That we'd talk about it more today, you know,-' you hesitate a moment, looking down at your plate. 'About the offer?' 

'We did talk about it,' Felix places his hand on your knee. 'Innie just left out the part where he got to kiss you already.' 

You look up with a frown. 'See, this is why I'm worried. You guys can't act like this is some sort of competition and I don't want things to get weird between us, or you guys.' 

'We discussed that as well,' Lee Know pipes up from across the table. 'We want to do this for you and we want you to be comfortable.' 

'Without weirdness,' Jisung smiles from next to Lee Know. 

'Look,' Chan says, putting down his plate. 'We can't promise it won't get a little complicated sometimes, because we're all human and with certain actions come certain feelings.' 

You feel your cheeks heating up at his words, but you nod because he's right. 'That's another reason why I've been hesitant. What if certain feelings do develop? Do we stop then? Will you tell me?'

The guys all share a look with each other and it's like they're communicating without words. They do that a lot and while it's usually something you love, it feels a little frustrating now. 

'Maybe we shouldn't do this,' you say, chewing on your lip. 'Maybe it's a stupid idea.' 

'Maybe you're overthinking it,' Changbin smiles at you. 'It doesn't have to be complicated. We're friends first, yeah? We've known each other for a long time and we can trust each other. Agreed?' 

You nod. 'Yes of course.' 

'Okay, so let us do this for you. Don't think too much, but keep telling us how you feel and we'll do the same,' Changbin continues. 

'Let's just see where it goes and if you want to stop at any time, we'll stop,' Chan adds. 

A little voice in the back of your mind tells you it's almost like they want it too much, but for some reason, even while it probably would have been wise to say no,  you can't deny that you want them to teach you. Their reactions make you feel warm and wanted and you do trust them.

 All their eyes are locked on you, waiting, and so you find yourself nodding once more. 

'Yes?' Chan's lips curl up in a grin and all the guys around him mirror the action. 

'Yes,' you nod again, grinning back at them. 'Now can we please eat?' 

They laugh and everyone digs in again, enjoying the food you brought. You happily eat from the plate Seungmin made for you and listen to the guys chatting about the songs they're working on. This was good, familiar, comfortable. 

After dinner Chan goes back to his computer with Jisung and Changbin to listen to the last recording they made, while the rest cleans up and gets ready for dance practice. 

'How can you even train so soon after dinner?' you ask no one in particular, rubbing your full belly. 'I don't even want to think about moving and you ate more than me.' 

'We're growing boys,' Changbin yells from where he's sitting next to Chan, flexing his biceps. 

'Bin, we know your muscles are impressive, no need to show off,' you tease, but your eyes linger anyways and he notices. 

'You sure? You can take a picture if you want?' he grins and you stick out your tongue at him before looking away. 

'I guess we're used to it,' Felix says from where he's stretching on the floor. 'And it won't be for at least another half hour until we have the training room.' 

'Still too soon for me,' you chuckle, sitting back down on the couch and curling your legs up underneath your body. 

You watch Felix, Hyunjin and Lee Know go through their warm-up with little to no shame, sitting back quietly and tracking their movements with your eyes. They're really flexible, especially Lee Know, and while you knew this already, you're still impressed by his cat-like movements. 

'Like what you see?' Jeongin grins, letting his body fall down on the couch beside you. 

Felix looks up, his big brown eyes meeting yours and you suppress a shiver. They're so insanely beautiful, you've always thought so, but now that you know he's going to get close and personal with you soon, they hit you differently. 

'Yup,' you admit, smiling at Felix. 'I'm very envious of how they move.' 

'You know this is just stretching right?' Felix laughs, bending his torso towards his knees. 'Anyone can do it.' 

You let out a snort. 'Not me, that's for sure. I'm stiff as a board. I tried yoga a few months ago, it was horrible.' 

'So you're saying we have another thing to teach you?' Hyunjin laughs, rolling his shoulders while basically sitting in a split. 

Shaking your head you get up from the couch to walk around him. 'Nope, I'll never be able to do that. You're insane.' 

Lee Know, who's also on the floor, grabs your wrist when you walk by him and pulls you down to the floor. You nearly lose your balance, but he easily catches you and motions for you to sit. 

'You could have just asked,' you mumble, sitting down cross legged. 

'Stretch your legs in front of you,' Lee Know says, ignoring your questioning look. 

You move your legs in front of you, wiggling your toes, as you put your hands on the floor beside you before looking at him again, your eyebrows raised as you have no clue what he wants you to achieve here. You didn't lie about not being flexible. 

'Now open your legs as far as you can,' Lee Know instructs. 

You can't help but gape at him. Say what now? Was he serious? It isn't lost on you that the sentence could have a very different meaning as well and suddenly you feel hot all over. 

'I think you broke her,' Felix giggles from your other side. 

You blink a few times and look to your left, just in time to see Felix crawl your way. He had no right. No fucking right to look like that, to crawl towards you with a flushed face and big brown doe eyes. Nope. You quickly look at Lee Know again to see him smiling at you. 

Taking a deep breath you look down at your legs and will yourself to spread them as wide as you can, which is not wide at all. It's pathetic really. 

'That's it?' Hyunjin asks from across from you and you look up to glare at him. 

'I told you!' 

'Relax,' Felix's voice sounds in your ear. 

You do the exact opposite, your whole body tenses at how close he is. His breath fans your neck as he takes a seat behind you, his legs stretching out beside yours and he presses his chest against your back. Heat radiates from him and your whole body tingles where he touches you. 

Breathe, you tell yourself. It's just Felix. 

'Relax,' Felix repeats, taking your hands in his and allowing you to lean against him. 'Just breathe for a minute and relax your muscles.' 

It seems impossible at first, but when Hyunjin and Lee Know continue their own stretches and Felix just breathes slowly and steadily behind you, you slowly feel the tension leave your body. 

'Good,' Felix whispers when you sag against him a bit more. 'Now when you're ready, we're going to move a little okay, just follow my lead.' 

You nod, not trusting your voice and when he puts a little pressure against your back with his chest, you move forwards. Immediately you feel the muscles of your groin pull and burn, but before you can say anything, Felix gently places his hands on your hips and moves the two of you back, to the side and then forward again. He repeats the movements a few times and while your muscles still burn, it doesn't hurt. 

'You okay?' Felix asks softly. 

'Mhm,' you hum. 'I'm not sure this will help though.' 

He chuckles and his chest vibrates against your back. 'Not right now, but if you practise this every day, it will.' 

You turn your head to look at him with raised eyebrows. 'And what makes you think I will?' 

Felix tightens his hands on your hips. 'Because you want to get more flexible?'

Lee Know lets out a laugh from beside you, but you ignore him, your eyes still focused on Felix while your brain obsesses over the feeling of Felix his hands on you. 

'And that's all I have to do?' 

'No,' Felix smiles. 'But I can teach you some more exercises.' 

It would actually be nice to be a bit more flexible and to not get muscle aches so often after doing simple tasks. 

'And what would you want in return?' you ask just Felix presses a feather light kiss just under your ear. 

A funny feeling erupts in your belly and you melt against him, craning your neck without even thinking about it. It's like your body moves on instinct. 

Felix chuckles deeply and hovers his mouth over the exposed side of your neck, his breath fanning your skin. 

'Why would I want anything in return when I already have you right where I want you,' he whispers in your ear, his voice so low you barely hear him. 

What? 

'What?' you voice your thoughts and it comes out with a crack. 

'Hmm?' Felix hums against your neck and for a moment you wonder if you didn't hear him correctly. 

It wouldn't be weird with what he's doing to your brain somehow. It's like your thoughts are hazy and all you can think about is how nice his soft lips feel against your hot skin. 

'What are you doing?' you whisper, your voice sounding weird to your ears, a little breathless. 

Felix doesn't lift his head as he replies. 'Giving you an unplanned lesson, I guess.' His lips attach to your neck again, pressing a trial of soft kisses all the way to where your neck meets your shoulder. 

You shiver, but don't argue. It feels nice and way better than you thought it would so you let him have his way, closing your eyes to somehow savour the feeling. When his teeth graze your skin, you let out a soft noise, startling yourself and your eyes snap open, meeting Hyunjin's gaze across from you. 

Shit. You somehow forgot you and Felix weren't alone. 

'It's okay,' Felix mumbles. 'Relax.' 

His voice has always been soothing to you, but right now it's even more powerful somehow and you once again melt into him. You trust him. 

'Good, close your eyes,' Felix whispers, while his left arm wraps around your waist, keeping you in place against him. 

You do as he says and when his right hand moves to your chin to gently tilt your head even further to the side, you let him. You'd probably let him do anything he wants right now. 

Felix kisses your neck again, more open mouthed this time and when his tongue sneaks out to taste your skin, another noise escapes your throat. It kind of tickles, but in a good way and you can't help but arch your neck even further, wanting more. 

You're so focused on Felix that you don't notice someone coming closer to you until you feel a presence sit down between your legs. Your eyes slowly open to see Hyunjin scoot closer to you, throwing his legs over yours and Felix's. 

You open your mouth to ask what he's doing, but he just shakes his head at you and curls his hand around the back of your neck, careful not to bother Felix who is still attached to the other side of your neck, nibbling, licking and gently biting your skin.

'Can I kiss you?' Hyunjin asks, his eyes flicking down to your lips. 

'Yeah,' you breathe out, your brain is too hazy to overthink this. 

Hyunjin doesn't waste any time and closes the distance between you, crashing his lips against yours. He's gentle at first, moving his mouth in sync with yours, but when you lick his bottom lip like Chan thought you yesterday, he groans against you and kisses you harder. His fingers move from your neck into your hair and softly pull at the strands, making you gasp. 

To your surprise he doesn't lick into your mouth or tangle your tongues, like Chan had yesterday, he just ups his tempo and scrapes his teeth over your bottom lip. Felix tightens his hands on you when you shiver and his tongue slips out again to soothe the skin he just abused. Is he leaving hickeys?

Hyunjin pulls back and you chase after him, not ready to stop kissing him, not when it feels this good. The sensation of being kissed at two places at once was addicting and you aren't ready to give up on it just yet. You want more. 

Hyunjin chuckles and traces your lips with his thumb. 'Easy there, I just want to ask if you kissed with tongue yet?' 

Such a gentleman. You hastily nod and lean forward again, but Felix his arm around you holds you back. It's only then that you realize what you're doing, in the middle of the studio where all the other guys can see. Hyunjin seems to notice right away and moves his face closer to yours again. 

'Don't overthink it, it's just you, me and Felix,' he whispers before kissing you again. 

Felix switches to the other side of your neck, forcing Hyunjin to let go of your hair, but you don't mind, all you can think of now is kissing Hyunjin. His tongue teases your lips again and when you open them he finally licks into your mouth, touching your tongue with his. He kisses differently than Chan, calmer, but with a lot of passion and in the back of your mind you store this information for later before grabbing onto Hyunjin's shirt and kissing him harder. 

When you break apart again, the both of you are panting like you just ran a marathon. Hyunjin's lips are swollen and he grins when he looks down at your neck, where Felix had let go as well. 

'Quite the artwork Lix, I'm impressed,' he chuckles. 

Your hand flies to your neck, but besides some wet spots and a slight tingling feeling, you don't feel anything. Guess you were going to have to find a mirror later.

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

a/n: I hope you liked this chapter, I'm still not sure what to think of it haha. Please let me know your thoughts!

Shoutout to @staylovesmiley for being my cheerleader while writing <3 >> part 4

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @newbbystay @lunearta @danceonmyheyday @gigizzz @kaqua @haven-skies @zulie-and-cats @livixcore @halfwinterhalfuniverse @jesuschrist2006 @staybabblingbaby @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor

[princip1914]

Neil Gaiman, probably: Crowley is a cool, suave, powerful prince of Hell. He is somewhere in London sipping whisky and staring mournfully into the middle distance while "Pale Blue Eyes" spins on the record player.

Me: So the Bentley is refusing to play anything but "My Happy Ending" by Avril Lavigne on repeat and Crowley has been lying in the back seat for three days straight. He has consumed half a dozen gallons of ice cream right out of the carton while ugly crying so hard that his corporation manifested smudged eyeliner in sympathy.

[burlveneer-music]

Boris Boublil : Mù - 93 Manifesto - instrumental chamber rock from 9-piece band (Carton Records)

boris boublil | composition / piano / keyboard / guitar john parish | guitar / percussions csaba palotai | guitar sacha toorop | drums theo girard | bass / double bass robin fincker | tenor sax / clarinet morgane carnet | baritone sax / clarinets antoine berjeaut | trumpet / bugle jesse vernon | violin

[libraford]

For the record, while I like making money, the reason I'm doing this is NOT money.

During the summer, our parks get absolutely TRASHED from people playing sports out in the fields, even though we put trash cans out there for their convenience. Number 1 litter is plastic bottles and we have to clean some spots twice a day because of how much is left on the field. Sometimes I find them in the creek, sometimes in birds nests.

If something annoys me, I turn it into a game because it prevents me from being resentful of the job. And access to that area means I get a lot of interesting colors that I wouldn't get normally (I don't drink diet coke, so I would never get the silver caps.)

I learned that HDPE (bottle caps) and LDPE (milk cartons) can be melted down and reformed pretty much infinitely using household heating elements, and that they're not dangerous to work with in well ventilated areas. They only shed microplastics when exposed to ultraviolet, so getting them out of the sun is good.

It's very cool to me to make something out of trash. It helps that it's plentiful, part of my job, free, and easily done. That it helps the environment, even a little, is very cool.

I like seeing how the plastics interact with each other. I like seeing how they melt. I like the cool marbling effect when you throw some LDPE in with the colored caps.

What are the applications? How is this useful? How can I sell this? What is the end goal? What is the product?

Inconsequential. Mad science is happening in your garage.

[camilleisdrawing]

Pavitr and Miles be fan-camming

[edit] ID: Yellow, peach, and magenta spotlights shine on the band against a dark blue paper-textured background. Gayatri is singing. Gwen is playing the drums. Hobie is playing the guitar. They are wearing casual clothes and having fun.

Pavitr and Miles are sitting at a small table in the dark, Pavitr wearing his school uniform and Miles wearing casual clothes as depicted in the movie. They share a blue shawl/blanket. Pavitr is recording the performance on his phone and leaning his head on Miles. Miles leans his phone on a small strawberry milk carton. Margo/Spider Byte hologram emerges from his phone screen holding a banner saying ‘Go! [Spider logo] Band’.

[slushyxcx]

Marlboro Reds

Summary: Hamzah, desperate and touch starved, struggles to articulate his desires for you and the tension between you two grows in a delicate dance of intimacy and uncertainty.

Chapter 1

Hamzah is slumming it on the balcony at Martin’s place on a Friday night.

Hamzah doesn't want to think about his week, or the endless pile of worries that he’s ignoring until they topple over and bury him. He just wants to let the sweet burn of nicotine scorch his lungs and quiet his mind. 

But of course the moment Hamzah isn't distracting himself, he’s thinking about things he shouldn't think about. 

Things like you. 

You live halfway across the world but you're here to visit Mandy. You and Mandy have been friends since you both were teenagers, Mandy swears you were the one who was the bad influence but you absolutely disagree. Especially the stories of how after Mandy started driving, the both of you never went to class. You’re a bit eccentric, and so beautiful.

But other days you’re solemn, closed off, your gaze a million miles away. Faded, like a ghost of yourself. And Hamzah isn't sure why no one notices, why your faked smiles are so easily believed. 

And there’s Hamzah’s favorite you (if he thought a lot about you, which he doesn't, but like, if he did), the you with the gang. You seem freer with them, looser and more uninhibited in the presence of only your friends. You curse more, make darker jokes and catch Hamzah’s eye with that sly smirk when you do, announce nerdy facts at random, roll your eyes and express emotions that you otherwise seem to keep contained. You don’t drink unless it's a party with the people you’re close with, your plastic cup otherwise filled with water or the host’s half assed attempt at mixers, you only smoke weed with Hamzah and you slip cigarettes out of your pocket like you’re used to keeping them hidden.

This you is the closest to the truth, Hamzah thinks, or maybe they're all different sides of the same person, like the way water changes shape but never composition. 

It’s only recently that you have become a main character in his life, shifting from an untouchable ideal to someone real and tangible. Because lately- 

Lately, you have been gravitating toward Hamzah, finding him in Martin’s office after recording a video, wandering up to him at parties, or stopping by his place to drop off whatever Mandy baked that day. 

Hamzah never seeks you out, never initiates your time together, but he can’t bring himself to avoid you either. Instead he holds his breath, pretending he isn't glancing at the door of every party, lingering at Martin’s place, waiting to see if you will find him. 

It’s just that you seem content to be in Hamzah’s presence, comfortable with sitting in silence when he is too angry or too high or too drunk to converse, ready to banter and tease when he is up for it. Maybe because Hamzah returns the favor, understanding on sight when you are not speaking for the day or remaining unfazed when your eyes get unfocused and paranoid. 

But other than that, Hamzah does not think of you at all. Definitely not. And he doesn't even care that he can sense you creeping up on him.

He knocks the cigarette on the edge of the balcony, watching the ashes flutter down to the ground below, then speaks:

“You gonna hide in the shadows all night?” 

You step into the light with a sheepish expression, hands tucked behind your back like you expect him to scold you for being there. 

“Hi Hamzah.” 

“Hey,” he uses your last name just to see your face scrunch up in a pout. 

“Don't call me that.” 

“No?” Hamzah finishes his cigarette and taps another two out of the carton, wordlessly passing one to you as well. He knows you don’t like his brand, preferring the fancy, European ones that you keep in a little silver monogrammed case like goddamn royalty, but lately you've been slumming it, accepting Hamzah’s humble cigarettes from their crumbled box. “Shouldn't you be saying I can call you whatever I want, as long as I call you?” 

“Something tells me you still wouldn't call,” you reply dryly, your words sliding out around the cigarette in your teeth, leaning forward with it between your lips for Hamzah to light. 

It is, for Hamzah, unbearably intimate, but he’s never been one to back down from a challenge, so he holds eye contact with you as he brings the lighter up, flame flickering. And it's worth it, because it makes you smile that small, secret smile as you lean back, taking the cigarette out of your mouth so you can exhale the smoke to the side. You are so beautiful, it almost makes Hamzah forget they’re technically holding a conversation, even if the words feel like just an excuse to keep their eyes on each other, to shuffle closer to speak. 

“Think you've got enough people calling you.” 

“Yeah? Maybe I should go smoke with them.” 

“Hey, you followed me out here,” Hamzah points out. “I was fine here without pretty girls stealing my cigarettes.” Oh, that's an accident, a little too far over the line between banter and flirting, but it’s hard to regret it when it makes you blush so prettily, all pink cheeks and long fingers and smoke.  

“Hmm.. and how many other pretty girls do you have stealing your cigarettes?” Your gaze flickers up and down Hamzah’s figure, evaluating, maybe, or sizing him up, or maybe just looking for the sake of looking, drinking in his presence. 

Hamzah grins at the slant of jealousy in your tone, one you’re not quite able to hide. 

“Wouldn't you like to know?” 

You narrow your eyes a bit, playing your part, but Hamzah can see you're distracted, something else on your mind. You bring the cigarette to your mouth and inhale slowly, turning to look out at the darkness as you exhale the smoke, ignoring Hamzah’s watchful eye. 

Hamzah finishes the cigarette, stubbing it out on the bannister he’s leaning against, and levels you with a look. 

“Just spit it out already.” 

“Hmm?” You feign innocence, but Hamzah won’t fall for your little cowed, pretty girl act. You may be a mystery, but he knows you, can read you better than most, at least.  

Hamzah rolls his eyes. 

“Whatever you’ve been working yourself up to say since you came out here.” 

“Maybe I just wanted a quiet place to smoke.” 

“If you wanted to be somewhere quiet, you wouldn't have crashed at Mandy’s and Martin’s in the first place.” 

You huff, “fine.” You take a careful step closer to him, your gaze searching. “Are you high?”

He shifts against the bannister, eyeing you. “Not yet.” 

“Drunk?”

“Nah,” he crosses his ankles, elbows propped on the bannister. “Why?” 

You hum, staring up at the sky. Usually he might wait it out, let you work up to it, but it’s been a long week- his patience is running thin. 

He calls out your last name.

“I just want to make sure you’re like.. hmm.” You tap one finger against your lips, searching for the word. “Coherent?”

“Coherent for what?” He asks, wary, but maybe not as wary as he should be, because he trusts you too much. 

You inhale from your cigarette for a long, drawn out moment, until your lungs must be burning, then exhale out the smoke in a cloud around you. Even through the fog, your eyes stay on Hamzah, that deep, penetrating gaze, like you can see right into his soul. You open your mouth to speak, then shut it again. 

“What is it?”

“Do you- I-” you start and stop, biting your lip as you hesitates. You take a fortifying breath, then:

“Can I kiss you?” 

Hamzah could've guessed all night and still would not have predicted this phrase to fall from your perfect lips. He doesn't even have a sharp quip to respond with. 

“... What?”

You smile at him shyly, looking up through your eyelashes, bashful in a way that must be an act because Hamzah’s never seen you be uncertain about what you want.

“Can I give you a kiss?” You repeat, voice soft and low, so different from that practiced, cheerful tone you use around strangers, around the others even.

Hamzah waits for more, for some explanation, but nothing comes. 

“Why?” He can’t help the defensive, accusatory slant to his voice, automatically falling back to anger. “Is this a pity thing?” 

You are unfazed by the heat in his voice. Your gaze flickers to the side like the answer might be there, then returns to Hamzah. The look in your eyes slides into something more genuine, a little nervous, a bit less coy. The real you. Hamzah unconsciously leans forward, automatically drawn to you.

“I just want to kiss you. But I don’t want to do something you don’t want.”

But why do you want to kiss me? He wants to blurt out, the idea so incongruent with reality.

“Uh,” Hamzah swallows, licks his lips. What does it say about him, that a kiss makes him so uncertain, that he can't remember the last time he was intimate with someone? What does it mean, that your act of basic human decency, asking for consent, makes his knees weak, makes his heart twist painfully in her chest?

He should say no. 

He really should say no. Hamzah knows all the reasons he should say no, but god. It’s been a long week in a long year in a long life, and Hamzah is tired. He’s tired of holding back, of starving for contact, of hoarding any signs of affection. He’s so fucking tired, but this is you, you who have never asked him for anything but for him to be himself, and so Hamzah lets down his walls, however slightly, lets himself answer this one question honestly. 

“Sure.”

“Really?” You don’t sound surprised, not really, but more like she’s seeking reassurance. Like she needs Hamzah to be sure. You study him, scanning his posture as if you’ll be able to determine if he really means it. “Are you sure? You don't have to. Honestly.”

“Yeah, uh. Yeah. You can kiss me. Or whatever.” Hanzah knows he’s blushing, he can feel the burn on his cheeks, so he has to hope it’s dark enough that you can’t tell. 

Hamzah’s forced nonchalance is not even a little believable, but you don’t comment on it- you never do. 

“Alright,” you say, soft as anything, as if it’s that simple, that easy. 

You step closer and Hamzah can’t help it, the way his breath hitches in his throat, the way he digs his nails into the soft flesh of his palms to resist flinching backward. 

Your eyes search his own, although Hamzah doesn’t know what you’re looking for. Whatever it is, you must find it, because you nod your head like something has been decided and then close the distance between them. Hamzah takes one more stilted inhale-

You raise your hands up, hold him by his cheeks and drag him close. Your lips meet, and his teeth bump into yours but everything fades into hazy bliss, slots together like a missing puzzle piece. Your lips, tender as honey exploring the taste of his tongue. It’s sweet and addicting, so much so that he gets dizzy and pulls away and fuck—he’s wrecked. Messy curls, teased by your clawing fingers stick up at odd angles, a rosy flush over his skin. You cup his cheek and he leans into your touch and plants a fleeting kiss over your palm.

He knew the kiss was a mistake.  

Hamzah was fine, was just fine without being kissed or tenderly touched or any of that shit, and now how the fuck is he supposed to continue on like he was before when now he knows what it feels like to be held by you? When now he knows how it feels to have your hand gently carding through his hair, the press of your body against his own? 

The safety, the security, the warmth

Fucking hell. 

Now Hamzah knows what he’s missing.

It's like the first time he smoked weed and discovered the way the drug lifted his worries off his shoulders, made the world light and easy to handle for a few hours. How could he resist it after that?

And how can he resist you now? 

He spends the weekend in a daze, restless and on edge. He walks into Martin’s place like he’s approaching the guillotine, somehow convinced that everyone will take one look at him and know. He slinks over to Martin’s office, in absolute denial that he’s glancing around looking for you. He doesn’t see any sign of you until after they’re done recording today’s Episode video. He and Martin exit the office and he spots you immediately - in an oversized shirt with a pair of shorts, Fish on your lap, and you’re with Mandy watching Real Housewives of New York. He doesn’t drag his eyes away fast enough, so soon enough he’s ensnared in your gaze. He watches your gaze flicker from that polite smile to something hungrier. 

He spends the whole afternoon with you guys, binging season 8, on the opposite chair  trying not to imagine he could swap places with Fish. How it would feel to rest his head on your thighs, and have you run your slender fingers through his curls

After, in the kitchen, when he’s on his way to leave and go home, Mandy comes close to brushing his arm as she passes him and Hamzah flinches away like he’s been shocked, slamming his own shoulder into the hard metal of the fridge in his effort to avoid being touched. The noise makes everyone turn to look at him, and Hamzah flips them all off so they’ll go back to their own fucking business. Everyone looks away, except- 

Except you, whose heavy gaze stays focused on him. It should make him feel worse, should make him squirm under the scrutiny, but instead it just makes Hamzah feel hot, like he’s basking under the shine of your attention, a blush crawling up the back of his neck. He is so fucked.  

Hamzah hurriedly scuttles out of the house before anyone can question him. 

Once he’s relatively safe a few metres away, Hamzah lights a cigarette and takes a deep inhale, scolding himself internally. Why is he acting like a total freak over a fucking kiss?

He smokes the cigarette down to the filter, nearly burning himself, then drops the remains to the ground and suffocates it beneath his shoe. By the time he hears your footsteps approach, it’s dusk, the sun not quite gone but night hanging over the scene like a blanket. It occurs to him that he’d run away in case you would come looking for him. But maybe he hadn’t yet accepted that you would come looking for him. Or maybe he hoped he would. 

“Hey Hamzah.” Just like you did the other night. 

Hamzah scowls as he calls you by your last name.

You cross your arms, hip cocked, and look Hamzah over. It’s only now he’s noticing your huge obnoxious Homer Simpson slippers and god, have your legs always been this long? Hamzah barely resists pulling out another cigarette, just for something to do with his hands. 

“You wanna talk about what’s got you all worked up?” 

So casual, like you haven’t been the only thing on Hamzah’s mind since Friday.

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” he practically hisses, defensive anger automatically winning out. 

“No,” you agree with a sigh. “No, you don’t.” You hesitate and your stance softens, a look of guilt flooding into your eyes. “Listen- if I overstepped, or crossed a line-”

The only thought more intolerable than how much he wants a kiss is you thinking that the kiss was a mistake. 

“Don't finish that sentence,” Hamzah snaps. “Stop being so.. so…”

“So…?”

“So understanding! So patient! Can’t you just fucking yell at me or something?” 

“Why would I yell at you?”

“Because! Because I want- I want-”

How can Hamzah explain the embarrassment that is always tangled up in his want, the humiliation that comes with his desire? 

You have that glint in your eyes again, like you’ve got Hamzah right where you want him. Like you’ve caught him at last. 

And maybe Hamzah wants to be caught. 

“If you want something,” you say slowly, “all you have to do is ask for it.”

Hamzah could fucking scream. He turns away from you abruptly and starts pacing, working himself up into a frenzy. 

“Listen. Listen.” 

You cross your arms and watch him pace with a bemused expression on your face. “I’m listening, Hamzah.” 

“You… you just.. and now.. and how am I supposed to?” 

“Starting with a full sentence would probably help,” you offer. Hamzah scowls even more, his pacing wearing a path into the gravel. 

“FUCK. Okay. Okay.” 

Hamzah stops abruptly in front of you, throws up his hands, and faces you head on. He can do this.

“Okay, you know… when we hung out the other day.” 

“Up on the balcony? Yeah, I remember,” you say easily. Like maybe you’ve been thinking about it too. 

“Right. So, you can like..” he throws one hand vaguely in the air, gesturing, “like. Whenever. You know?” 

“No…?” Now you are pressing your lips together like you’re trying not to smile, one hand coming up to twirl a wayward lock of hair around your finger. “Can you be more specific?” 

Hamzah huffs. “You know what I mean!” 

“Hm… I don’t think I do.” 

Hamzah squirms, glaring down at the gravel and dirt beneath them and scuffing at it with the toe of his shoe. “Fucker..” he mutters under his breath, then looks back up at you and your smug, expectant eyebrows. 

“When we… kissed.” He grits out.

“Oh, when we kissed? What about it?” You would probably be more obnoxious if you weren’t so radiant when you smile, beaming at Hamzah like you’re proud he even brought it up. Hamzah focuses on that joy and lets out all his words in one breath. 

“You don’t have to ask, alright? Like… if you want to kiss me, you can just kiss me. Whatever. I mean, maybe not in front of everyone all the time, cause the last thing I need is all those guys thinkin’ something’s going on, but like.” Hamzah gestures a bit more, then lets his arms fall to his sides. “You get it.”

He’s a coward, truly, because Hamzah knows he should just say I want to kiss you or will you kiss me please? He knows he should just be honest about what he wants, but he can’t. It’s easier to pretend he’s doing this for your sake, like he’s doing you some big favor, when the opposite is true. 

“Okay.”

Hamzah pauses. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Good to know,” you say with a shrug, rubbing your arms. It’s the middle of winter, in Canada, and it’s fucking freezing. He should’ve offered you his jacket when you first came out after him. God, he’s such a fucking idiot. 

He blinks, his eyebrows drawing together. 

“Oh. You don’t…?”

You raise one eyebrow, unfairly attractive. “What?”

“... Nothing.” Hamzah shakes his head, unwilling to articulate his dissatisfaction with this. “I’m gonna go.” He attempts to shuffle away, but you move closer instead, freezing him in his tracks. 

“Oh, did you want to kiss now?” You press one hand to your chest in fake surprise, pretending you haven't known exactly what Hamzah’s wanted from the beginning of the conversation, a smile edging at your lips despite your clear attempt to hide it. 

“Well not anymore, you asshole,” he huffs, turning his head away so you can’t see the flush of his cheeks and also because looking at your smirk directly is like looking at the fucking sun. “Forget it.” 

“Hamzaaah,” you sing-song sweetly, opening your arms, giving him plenty of time to step away if she wanted to. “C’mere.” 

Hamzah isn't even sure why he bothers pretending to be grumpy, because the moment you get closer, he drops his crossed arms, unable to pretend he’s not desperate and eager for your hold. 

“Whatever,” he mutters, but the second half of the word is lost.

The catharsis is so sweet. Sure, it’s the chemicals in his brain, the oxytocin and hormones that are released during physical touch, or whatever, but it’s also the way you hold him, the grounding, tender touch.

He hears the breathy little moan you let out, like you’ve been waiting for this, like you’ve been holding your breath, like you didn't think you’d ever get to kiss Hamzah again. And fuck , the sound makes sparks shoot all through him, gives him the courage to shift his head slightly and press his lips, fleetingly, to your bare throat and hear you gasp, your grip on Hamzah tightening.

The both of you sway slightly, you rocking them both like a stilted waltz, a dance for just the two of you. Hamzah takes a moment to breathe, to let his frantic heart rate slow, relishing the way your fingers are drawing errant shapes on his back. 

“Do you want to get out of here? We can just drive around or something.” 

“Depends…” you drawl as you let your hands drop to his waist, tucking your fingers through the belt loops of Hamzah’s trousers so your bodies are still connected. “Can I smoke in your car?”

Hamzah hums, tapping his chin in fake consideration. “For you? I’ll allow it this once.”

[m0llygunn]

The Blackout (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

Summary: A state wide power outage during the hottest days of the year leave you and eddie getting on each others nerves with only one way to work it out...

Warnings: 18+! smut, mature language, pet names (baby, sweetheart), oral (f receiving), p in v sex (no protection), creampie, sweaty sex, porn with plot, both eddie and reader are kind of mean to each other, no y/n. Author’s note: its summer and way too hot out so i wrote this idk wc: 3.3k

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

“Its so fucking hot.” He groans.

“Eddie, if I can’t say I’m bored you can’t say you’re hot.” 

I didn’t say I was hot, I said it was hot.” Eddie snaps, heat driving him to agitation.

“Go for a fucking walk then, I don’t know what to tell you.” You snap back.

The power’s been out for three days, with the outage reaching across most of the state. 

Three whole fucking days during a record breakingly hot summer. 

With the power being out, that means no A/C, no TV, no phone, no radio, no nothing. They’re calling it ‘The Blackout’ by what you gathered from neighbours. It is truly a moment of history that you’re sharing with Eddie, and it’s been fucking miserable. 

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie groans, standing from the opposite end of the couch. “It’s just as fucking hot out there, why would you even think a walk would be a good idea?” 

“Stop being pissy.” You warn. 

He shoots you a glare before pulling his shirt off over his head. Why he even bothered putting a shirt on after his shower, escapes you. The only thing that has kept you both from completely withering away in the stifling, suffocating heat has been taking showers. The only downside of it is that the water heater obviously uses electricity so the water is uncomfortably cold. 

You watch as he crosses to the kitchen.

“Do you think the milk would still be good?” He asks, hand on the fridge door, looking in your direction.

“Why would I know?” You reply snarkily, still mad over him snapping at you. 

“Holy shit, it was just a question.” He groans. “Fuck— and you think I’m being pissy.” He mumbles under his breath as he quickly opens the fridge, grabbing the milk and shutting it just as fast to try and preserve some of the cold air inside. 

“I heard that.” You yell back.

“You were supposed to.” He retorts. You watch him as he sniffs the milk, nose scrunching in response.

“It’s bad?” You ask.

He doesn’t respond, he just starts dumping it down the sink, slamming the empty carton down onto the counter.

It’s been so hot you both haven’t had the energy to do anything besides argue. The first day you both thought it was semi-interesting seeing everything out of power and watching people gathering outside to excitedly chatter about it, but as the remaining cold air from the air conditioner turned hot, it wasn’t fun anymore. Then the bickering started. 

You continue watching him as he opens the fridge again, this time grabbing a beer, and quickly closing the fridge like last time. 

He cracks the can and you can tell from the scowl on his face as he takes a sip that it’s warm. 

“It’s warm?” You ask, purely just to annoy him. You have to admit, his pissy mood is helping with your boredom, he’s serving as quite the entertainment. 

You watch as he slams the can down on the counter.

“Are you being annoying on purpose?” He asks, brows pinched, eyes narrowed in on you.

“Are you being annoying on purpose?” You mock, pitching your voice up into a nasally tone. 

“Fucking stop it.” He scolds, brows pinching even more harshly. 

“Fucking stop it.” You mock quietly, turning in your seat on the couch to face away from Eddie.

You hear what sounds like him gulping the beer before heavy stomps heading straight for you.

“You’re pissing me off on purpose?” He asks. 

Out of your periphery you can see him standing beside you, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m not doing anything.” 

“You are.”

The corners of your lips tug up and as much as you try to stop it, you can’t.

“Do you think this is funny?” Eddie asks bewilderedly, not even the slightest bit amused by you. 

“I don’t think anything about this is funny, Eddie.” You reply, your smile maturing into a smirk.

Eddie huffs, moving to sit back down beside you on the couch, making sure to sit as far away from you as possible. He exhales a deep sigh and you can tell he’s pissed by the way his jaw repeatedly clenches. 

You slowly shift so your feet are up on the couch. Eddie's eyes are set forward, ignoring you on purpose.

Inch by inch you stretch your legs out until your toes are poking him in the side. He doesn’t react so you wiggle your toes, digging them in harder. 

Without even sparing you a look, he grabs both of your feet pulling them on his lap, holding them tightly so they can’t move. 

“Eddie, let go.” You whine as you try to escape the grips he has around your ankles. He ignores you.

You have two choices. You could lay here quietly or you could make things exponentially worse. 

Exponentially worse sounds more entertaining.

You huff a breath and notice the way Eddie’s jaw clenches right after. You sigh, and he does it again. 

You breathe comically loud and you swear you see his eye twitch.

One more sigh and you’re sure he’ll break his little silent treatment, so you let out a soft breathy sigh.

Nothing. Not even a jaw clench this time. You’re positive he’s just trying his best to ignore you now but you know two little words that have driven him up the wall for the last three days. 

“Eddie, I’m bored.” You whine, and sure enough he breaks. His head turns in your direction, eyes burning into you. 

You think he’s gonna say something but instead he pulls you by the feet, grabbing your arm so you’re practically sitting in his lap.

“You’re bored?” He coos, taunting you. He pulls at your limbs, getting you to straddle his hips, your hands landing on his bare chest. 

“Don’t.” You warn, despite your increased heart rate at getting the exact response you were looking for. 

“Aw but my baby’s bored, doesn’t she just want a little attention?” He continues his taunting, looking at you with a faux concern. 

“You’re all sweaty.” You say, feeling his sticky skin under your fingertips.

“Baby, it’s cause you got me all worked up now. Pissing me off on purpose just for a quick laugh, right?” He says, pulling you closer to him with his hands on your hips. “What wrong, sweetheart? Where’s that smile from earlier? Seems to have disappeared now that you got what you wanted.” He teases.

“Wasn’t trying to piss you off.” You huff. 

“Baby, you got what you wanted didn’t you? No use in lying.” He proceeds with his taunt. 

“M’not lying.” You whisper, watching your fingers as you skate them down his sweat slicked chest. When he sternly says your name you look up at him.

“Baby, there’s no way you just said all that stuff without purposefully saying it to annoy me.” He says, cutting out all the coos, teasing, and taunting.

“Oh, so you think I’m annoying?” You say, raising your brows at him. 

“Oh my god.” Eddie groans, throwing his head back against the couch in defeat. 

You watch him as his brows pinch and his eyes squeeze shut to try and calm himself. You're about to speak again to scold him, but his hips shift below yours, his hard length pressed between your thighs.  

“Oh my god.” You gasp. “You’re hard?” 

His eyes shoot open, glaring at you for pointing it out so flagrantly. You didn’t think he was getting this worked up. Truthfully you were just doing this for a quick laugh, not a quick fuck. 

“What did you think I was doing?” He asks, hands squeezing your hips, eyes still burning into you. Evidently you both were on separate pages but feeling his length still pressing into you, you're quickly switching over to the same wavelength as Eddie, but not without a little more entertainment. 

“Accusing me of being annoying and a liar.” You shrill, tilting your head at him. 

“Oh my god, you need to stop talking.” He says, hands pulling you by the cheeks towards his face. He presses his lips to yours and only then you process what he just said.

“Don’t tell me to stop talking.” You say, pulling away from the kiss. 

“Shhh.” He hushes, pulling you back in, his lips pressing back to yours

“Don’t tell me to shush.” You say, pulling back once more. 

Eddie groans, head falling forward to rest against your chest.

After a few deep breaths he pulls away. When he looks at you again, you can tell he’s still annoyed but he’s trying to relax his features.

“Do you want to fuck or not?” He asks, purposefully softening his voice. 

“Ever the romantic.” You scoff.

“Baby.” He says, starting to reduce to a whine.

You find both amusement and pity in him, opting to grind your hips against his. His hands fall to your sides again, guiding you against him. 

“So is that a yes?” He asks, mouth falling open as you pass over his length. 

“You told me to stop talking.” You reply, smile tugging on your lips. You spread your thighs further, dropping your weight onto his crotch and he gasps, chasing it with a deep exhale.

“Talk, don’t talk, I don’t care, just keep doing that.” He grunts, lifting his hips enough to meet yours. 

“Don’t be fucking rude.” You say, lifting your hips from his. When you watch his face, his annoyance falls into desperation and defeat as he attempts to chase after you with his hips before deflating into the couch with a ‘humph’.

"Fuck, please, baby.” He groans, pinching your skin between his fingers with his harsh grip on your thighs. 

“Say you’re sorry.” You demand, hips still lifted from him. 

“I’m sorry baby, let me show you how sorry I am.” He whines, bringing his face to sit against your chest, pressing kisses into your skin wherever he can reach. 

“Fine.” You reply, smiling to yourself as you place both palms flat on his chest to guide yourself as you resume your grinding. 

He lets you continue the glide of your hips against him for a moment before his hands rise to your waist, lifting you up and peeling himself from the couch. 

He flips you, sitting you back against the couch while sinking to his knees on the floor in front of you. 

“C’mon baby, let’s get these off.” He says lowly, fingers tangling in the lace of your panties under your oversized shirt. You lift your hips and he quickly pulls them off, throwing them beside him. 

He grabs your hips again, pulling you to the edge of the couch, immediately connecting his mouth to your cunt. 

You whimper as his tongue licks up your slit, swirling around your clit. He’s quick to introduce his fingers, plunging two inside of you, bringing them in and out at a pace he knows you like. 

“Look at you, all quiet and happy now.” Eddie laughs. You look down at him between your legs and his eyes are focused on you, pupils blown wide and sparkling in amusement as his skin glistens in a sheer sweat. 

You don’t respond to him, you just watch with a slack jaw as his mouth works against you, fingers massaging that sweet spot inside, drawing all sorts of whimpers and moans from your lungs. 

Your pleasure keeps building and building, tension becoming a hot blur inside of you until Eddie’s mouth stops completely. A whined cry escapes your lips as the crescendo of your high is pulled from you. 

“How do you have me showing you that I’m sorry? You’re the one who was purposefully pissing me off.” Eddie questions, brows furrowed. It’s not a sly tease or a playful trick of the moment, it’s a genuine realization that’s just come to him. 

“Eddie.” You whine. 

“No, seriously. You’re the one who started this, why am I sorry?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You groan. 

“No.” He retorts, brows pinched. You sink your weight into the couch, exhaling through your nose before looking back at Eddie. 

“Eddie, I was so close to coming.” You whine, bringing your hands to his face to push his sweaty bangs back, trying to will him to continue.

“Say sorry then.” He says firmly, ignoring your hands on his face.

“Eddie.” You whine again. He raises his eyebrows at you expectantly and you sigh harshly bring your arms to your chest, folding them in a pout. “Do you want me to give you a blow job, is that what this is about?” He blinks at you slowly before opening his mouth. 

“I want you to say sorry.” He pushes, refusing to be distracted by your offer. 

“Sorry.” You mumble, annoyed that he’s really making you apologize mid fuck. 

“What was that, couldn’t quite hear you.” He says, smile ghosting over his lips as he turns his ear to you, cupping it with his hand.

“I said sorry.” You snap. His smile turns into a dimpled grin as his eyes bleed pure amusement. 

“Get down here.” He laughs, pulling you down the couch further, wrapping his arms around your back and maneuvering you to the floor.

“Eddie!” You shriek as your body hits the floor, his hands guiding you downwards. You’re greeted with a coolness against your back that feels refreshing against your boiling hot skin. 

“It’s cooler down here.” He says, lowering his face to kiss at your shirt clad chest before his hands grab at the hem. You sit up enough for him to raise the shirt over your head, tossing it to the side, leaving you bare on the floor in front of him. 

He sits up, unbuckling his pants, tugging them down.

“Gonna fuck you right here on the floor, baby.” He mumbles, fumbling distractedly with his pants that stick to his sweaty skin. It takes him a while, but when they're finally off, boxers removed with them, he wastes no time running his fist up and down his length before bringing it to your core. 

“Ready, baby?” 

“I was ready about 5 minutes ago before you started fighting with your pant—” You sneer before Eddie pushes into you, interrupting your snarky comment by punching all the air from your lungs. 

“Baby, you really gotta quit that attitude, it’s too fucking hot in here for that.” He grunts, punctuating every other word with thrusts into you.

The stretch of him filling you up and the force behind each jut of his hips leaves your head spinning. 

“Eddie.” You moan, feeling your lost pleasure resurface quickly, tension already building in your lower belly.

Your heavy breathing gets buried under the echoes of sticky skin slapping together with each of Eddie's pistoling movements. His plunging thrusts working his cock deep inside of you, the adrenaline of your non-stop arguing working as fuel for him fervently fucking you. 

Reaching your arms up to him, you bring your hands to his back, grasping for purchase against his sweaty skin, resorting to using your nails to keep you tethered to him as he fucks you into the carpeted floor. 

“You like that, baby? Just wanted me to fuck you, huh? Getting me all pissed off so I can give it to you nice and hard.” He grunts, one of his hands releasing the tight squeeze on your thighs to graze over your chest, the heat of his hand searing your skin, leaving you tingling under the trail of his touch.

“Mhmm” You moan, agreeing mindlessly, lost in pleasure. You look up at Eddie, his brows furrowed in pleasure, mouth dropped agape, hair stuck to his face and you feel a burst of adoration for him. 

“Eddie.” You whine, using your grip on him to pull him down. “Kiss.” You add, and he lowers to you immediately. His lips meet yours, both of you working your lips together in a salty kiss tainted by the mixing sweat of your upper lips. He continues thrusting into you, the new position as he licks into your mouth offering an added friction to your clit with each plunge making you gasp and moan into his mouth. 

“Fuck.” He groans. “Feels so good, baby.” His kisses stop but he doesn’t let his lips leave you entirely, breathing his words into your mouth. 

The sweltering hot knot in your belly grows impossibly tight, each thrust of his hips reaching deeper inside of you while his hot breath funnels directly into your mouth leaving you absolutely dizzy.

“G-gonna cum, Eddie.” You stutter, lower belly tensing so harshly your breathing only comes in harsh pants.

“Cum for me, baby. Need to feel you cum.” He groans.

You let go, body vibrating, and in the heat of the house it feels like everything inside of you is boiling over in an orgasmic haze. Your skin prickles, as Eddie’s thrusting grows more erratic.

You grip harshly against his skin, fingers slipping and nails digging in harder with every final thrust bringing you through your searing high. 

“Fuck. Fuck, squeezing me so hard, baby.” He whimpers, hips meeting yours as he pushes deeply inside of you, balls tensing and cock twitching as he fills you up with the warm milkiness of his cum. He thrusts in and out of you, hips stuttering as he rides through his high before collapsing on top of you. 

His chest pushes against yours with every gasp of air as he catches his breath and you slowly but surely come back to reality. Reality— which is an absolutely sweltering hot, sweaty man on top of you. 

“You’re so sweaty.” You whisper, feeling the stickiness of his face press against your cheek, his hair sticking all over his face and your face. He laughs, the hot air of his breath fanning over the dripping sweat on your neck. 

“You too.” He says, pushing himself up with his arms to look at you. With drips of sweat beading down his temples, bangs sticking in all different directions, every hint of annoyance is gone from his eyes, leaving behind a hazy contentment mixed with adoration. 

“I think you gave me carpet burn.” You say, smiling despite the stinging burn on your back that you only notice now as he shifts on top of you, relieving you of his weight. 

“I think you drew blood.” He laughs, mirroring your smile. He sits up on his knees, pulling out from you with a mirrored gasp between the two of you. 

On his knees, he twists his upper body showing you the angry red lines you drew on his back with your nails. You gasp and he turns back around, looking at you with a knowing smile. 

“Here, sit up, baby.” He says, holding his arms out for you. You take them and he tugs you up, peering behind you at your back.

“Yup, s’all red.” He laughs. 

“Shower?” You say, pulling yourself closer to him. He pulls you up from the floor, slippery grip making you slide from him until he boosts you up, reclaiming a firm grip on your ass. 

“Fuck yeah, we need a shower.” He breathes as he walks you to the bathroom, kicking the door open. 

You and Eddie spent the next few hours sitting in the tub finding salvation from the muggy heat in the freezing cold water that runs from the tap. It was an uncomfortable fit in the small tub but with your knees pressed to your chest, your back to his front, and one of his calves hanging over the ledge, you both sat together, chattering quietly until you both were pruny and ready to get out. 

By the late evening, you were on better terms, arguing reduced to nothing but a playful teasing lilt.

Just as you both started to get ready for bed, the lights turned back on along with the beautiful melody of the air conditioner vibrating from the window. 

The room cooled down drastically, leaving you both happy and allowing for you to cuddle in bed, completely sweat free.

As soon as your heads hit your pillows, with your bodies relaxing into each other as you nodded off to sleep, everything that transpired in the heated power outage reduced to a moment of the past that you two will grow to laugh at over time. 

You did gather one thing though, getting Eddie riled up before sex is extremely entertaining. 

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