summary: certified professional gooner eddie munson and his inconvenient and incapacitating crush on the intimidatingly hot and cool record shop girl.
a/n: needed somewhere to put this filth tbh! my ask box is always open, particularly if you have an urgent thoughts/inquiries about audio!eddie 🎧
content warnings: men who whimper, diabolical levels of yearning, audio erorica, depictions of sex work, cursing, generational levels of fumbling the bag, IT expert eddie, he's basically a foley artist idk, guuurl dinner, sex toys et al., ramblefaps, camboy steve cameos, and a whole lotta smut
the lps (series)
brb levitating
never underestimate my ability to pull - Friday, May 8th
A five year crush, too much bourbon, and a sleepless night.
wc: 4.6k
warnings: 18+ age gap (25-46), college best friends dad trope, oral fem receiving, chest riding, fingering, panty play (??) not sure what to call this but he does some pretty filthy stuff using your swim suit bottoms, exhibitionism, steve talking you through it, and mild angst because they know they shouldn’t :)
authors note: i turned into some horny monster and this is probably the dirtiest smut I’ve ever written. this is dedicated to my og colors girls, while this is a separate story all on its own, i hope you enjoy all the small little call backs.
Bourbon burns on your lips while the warm bubbles of the jacuzzi heat your skin just like the liquor does going down your throat. Setting the thick crystal glass back on the ledge, your eyes stay trained on Steve sitting across from you.
Half his chest is submerged under the water, leaving the thickest part of the hair there in view. A gold chain you’d helped his daughter Jenny pick for him a few years ago dangles around his neck. It shimmers in the low light of his kitchen shining warm gold onto his back deck from the sliding glass door. A hint of dark stubble lines his sharp jaw with specks of grey dusting the underside, just like the silver that’s weaved itself into the sides of his chestnut hair.
Holding your gaze down the slope of his nose, he leans further back into the jets, spreading his arms wide along the ledge. Thick biceps sit on display for you making your thighs search for each other under the water and when his tongue darts out to wet his full lips, you wonder if he can tell.
God, you shouldn’t be looking at your best friend’s dad like this, and he most definitely shouldn’t be looking at you like this. The unmistakable hunger that’s simmered under the surface for years burns in the narrowed darkness of his eyes, daring you to make a move.
For a while you thought it was only you — just a college girl with a crush. But you felt something shift after graduation a couple years ago. The crazy idea that it might be mutual started last year during the fifth Christmas you’d spent with the two of them. It was the way his gaze lingered a little too long, or how he found ways to touch you or place a hand on the small of your back.
Christmas Eve was when you knew for certain though. Jenny had ditched both of you for an early night in her bed, still getting over the cold she’d brought with her. Too much wine led to flirty words and light touches on his couch with A Wonderful Life on in the background. It wasn’t until his hands got bolder, and you got closer that he stopped it abruptly. Gently pushing himself away from you before mumbling that he needed to go to bed.
Just like tonight.
Except instead of wine, it was after dinner celebratory bourbon shots for Jenny’s new job offer in the city. The tension from a year ago was still so palpable in his small kitchen that there was a part of you that worried she would somehow notice too. Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off your exposed legs after you’d all gone upstairs to change into something cozy. The small sleep shorts you’d pick out with purpose doing exactly what you’d hope they would. It was enough to give you a bold kind of confidence that had you holding his gaze from under your lashes every time you caught his stare. Relishing in the way it made his cheeks redden.
An unmistakable weight of disappointment bruised your ego when he excused himself to bed first, and it had you finding an excuse to do the same after about an hour or so of hanging out with Jenny. Tossing and turning for two nearly hours still too worked up to actually fall asleep. You’d given up trying, snatching your swimsuit out of your suitcase and headed down to the Jacuzzi.
The strong jets had instantly soothed your wound up muscles, feeling so good that you took the risk of taking your bikini top off, letting it float to the bottom. It was then that Steve appeared in nothing but a pair of short hemmed black swim trunks with seemingly the same plan as you. Despite the internal conflict painting the handsome features of his face, he still joined you, and that bruise on your ego lightened a hue.
“I thought you were going to bed?” You hum, with the kind of fake nonchalance you’ve never been more proud of. The tips of your fingers gliding along the top of the water.
“Tried too.” He answers with a gravel in his voice that goes straight to your core. “Too wound up.”
“Good thing you have a jacuzzi then, huh?” You tease, biting into your bottom lip to hide your smile, playfully sliding forward in your seat from the buoyancy.
The new position reveals the swell of your breasts, and the lack of top covering them. Steve inhales sharply at the sight, scratching his clicking jaw before running that same hand through his unruly hair.
“Yeah, good thing.” He grunts with sarcasm, that swooping strand flopping back over his forehead with damp ends.
His eyes are hungry, taking in all the newly exposed skin with the kind of want that makes you squirm. Sticking his tongue into the side of his cheek, he grabs his glass, taking another sip of the brown liquor with an unwavering stare. This kind of need feels all consuming and it unfurls deep in your gut, despite how wrong this is.
The realization of it has you closing your eyes leaning back against the small headrest behind you, fighting with your self-control. Just his presence has your body thrumming, an effect he’s shamefully had on you since the first summer you came home with Jenny nearly six years ago.
“Topless in someone else’s home hardly seems appropriate, don’t you think?” he asks, voice nothing but spiced honey demanding your attention back.
“I thought I was going to be alone.” You shrug, lifting your head to meet his gaze, desperately trying to keep up this nonchalant ruse despite the tightening in your chest.
All Steve does is hum, taking another sip of bourbon before setting the glass down.
“D- does it bother you?” You question quietly, the facade slipping for a brief moment as your anxiety makes you wonder if you’ve read this all wrong.
His gaze drops to the bubbling water, torture pinching his eyebrows together before finally giving you an answer.
“It should.”
The weight of his confession hangs in the air, thick like the steam.
“Does that bother you?” He asks in return, still not meeting your eyes.
“It should.”
Those two whispered words threaten to change everything.
Steve finally lifts his head, running another wet hand through his hair and god you wish it was your own. The silence that falls between you charges the space with something electric. It sends your body buzzing, overheating you in the already hot water. The pang of guilt that hits your chest fights you to care and just walk away before it’s too late. But then Steve’s jaw clenches again as you watch the last bit of his resolve slip away taking yours with it.
“It’s kinda hot in here, isn’t it?” You say a little out of breath, stomach swooping feeling him track your every movement.
“Need me to turn down the heat?” He asks in a concerned tone that sounds too casual after what’s just been admitted outloud.
“No, I’m okay.” You brush him off, holding his gaze that’s just as dark as the sky above you, your palms finding the slippery edge of the jacuzzi.
Giving yourself a push, you slowly lift yourself out of the water. The cool night air hitting your wet skin, chilling the droplets of water that slowly drip down your chest. It sends a shiver up your spine, pebbling your nipples, and blowing out his pupils.
“Fuck, honey.” He groans, running a hand down his face before letting out a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t —“
“We shouldn’t, what, Steve?” You whisper, leaning back with palms flattening on the wood of the deck, putting yourself on display.
Your heart thumps so wildly in your chest that you can hear it over the roar of the jets. He holds your gaze with an intensity of someone who’s desperately trying not to look at something they shouldn’t. Swallowing hard, his adam's apple bobs before he finally gives into temptation, bringing his eyes to your pert nipples standing at attention just for him.
“You know what.” He sighs sounding tortured, rolling his neck, his resolve dissipating just like the bubbles that hide the bottom half of him.
Steve stands up, the movement sending panic coursing through you because you’re half expecting him to walk away and save you both from a huge mistake. But he doesn’t. Instead, he starts to close the space between you making you forget how to breathe.
Water and leftover bubbles drip down his chest, matting the dark hair there. The soft muscles of his stomach twitch with moles you hadn’t seen before dotted like the constellations on his cheeks and neck. The urge to find them all with your mouth is so strong it almost hurts.
“Do I?” You ask, chest heaving as your thighs press together at the sight, making his jaw click again.
He stops in front of you, chlorine and the leftover amber from his cologne taking over your senses.
“Sweetheart.” He sighs with a hint of condescension, those big hands finding purchase on your slick thighs, spreading them back open with embarrassing ease.
“Steve.” You whisper his name in the same tone.
He doesn’t say anything as he drops to his knees on your empty submerged seat, the new position putting him at eye level with you. His face is so close to yours that you can smell the sweet caramel of the bourbon still lingering on his breath. Crows' feet crease at the edges of his forest colored eyes, while his big wet hands slide further up your thighs. The tips of his fingers tickle your damp skin before finding the edges of your swim suit bottoms.
“You should tell me to stop.”
He tries doing the right thing one more time, squeezing harshly at the fat under his palms. Glazed over eyes watching the way they jiggle back in place. You can’t find your voice, so instead you spread your legs wider.
”Jesus.” He breathes, the deft ends of his nails digging into your soft skin.
His fingertips follow the seam of your bottoms, till they curl under the fabric next to the place that screams for his attention. A shaky breath slips from between your lips, needing more of him. The pads of his thumbs trace over your covered slit, groaning to himself every time they slide over your swollen clit and your legs shake in response.
“Oh my god.” You whine, watching how his eyes darken, feeling a different kind of wetness grow underneath his thumbs.
“You really want this, huh?” He drawls, something treacherous hidden in his question.
Looking up at you from under his lashes, Steve swipes pointedly against your bundle of nerves now.
“Y-yes.” You manage with hooded lids, hips rolling, meeting the next glide of his thumbs.
Pressing his forehead against yours, the whisper of your name sounds pained. The heat of his breath fans against your lips that part trying to breath him in as Steve’s eyes pinch shut, his grip on your wet bottoms tightening. His thumbs disappear bringing his fingers to curl around the thin scrap of fabric at your hips.
When his gaze finally meets yours again, there’s not a hint of color left in his eyes sending another shiver up your spine. Then, without warning, he roughly tugs up both sides. Gasping his name, the damp fabric between your legs spreads your glistening puffy lips apart.
“God, look at you.” He hums appreciatively, tugging up the material even harder. “So wet for me, honey.”
Your fingers curl around the edge of the hot tub, jaw going slack. The pressure feels painfully good against your clit, your body craving more of whatever this is. A deep moan rumbles from his chest as he starts moving the thin fabric in time with the grind of your hips. Completely enraptured by the way your slick grows for him.
“So fucking dirty, honey.” He chides, giving one last tight pull before finally letting go.
The loss of contact leaves your chest heaving, but before you can protest, he invades your space. Bullying his way deeper between your legs, they open even more, thighs pressing against each side of his torso. Steve’s hands grip your hips, pulling you even closer to the edge.
His top lip catches against your bottom in an almost kiss, the coarse hair on his chest tickling the most sensitive part of you. Grinding against it, you have no control over your body anymore because every nerve ending in it screams for him. Something that resembles a growl rumbles loud from his chest, vibrating against your clit, his bruising hold encouraging you to do it again.
“You want this too, don’t you?” You manage to get out with another roll of your hips, mouth brushing with his around every word. You’re positive you could cum like this.
“If you knew just how bad, I think you’d run far away from me.” He admits in a tone that goes straight between your legs. Gripping your hips impossibly tighter, his mouth hovers right above yours in another silent dare.
Finally pushing your hands off the ledge, you bury them in his hair, fingers curling in the damp thickness at the nape of his neck. It’s something you’ve imagined doing thousands of times, and it's somehow softer than you could have ever dreamed up.
Running the tip of your nose along the sharp length of his, all you whisper is —
“Show me.”
Those words are enough for his self control to finally crumble, closing the space with a bruising press of his lips. It takes you a moment to realize that you’re getting everything you’ve ever wanted before quickly catching up to him. There’s a desperation in the way your mouths move together, like this it.
Because it is. It has to be.
He licks into your mouth with animalistic need and you meet him in the middle with equal intensity. Desperately trying to commit this moment to memory. The rough patch of hair on his chest catches your clit again in something that feels so dirty. Whimpering into his grunt, water laps at his waist, spilling over the ledge as he bends his spine to push up against your heat with every one of your shallow thrusts.
You pull away with his full bottom lip between your teeth bringing him with you before letting him go with a loud pop. He doesn’t waste any time gripping your chin between his fingers, tilting your head to the side to kiss and nip a path up your neck. His tongue pokes out to lick the dip behind your ear, teeth biting your lobe into the heat of his mouth, sucking hard.
“Fuck — Steve.” You whine, eyes rolling in the back of your head feeling them scrape against it.
”I need to taste you, let me taste you.” He whispers against your ear, his nose pressing into the sensitive spot behind it.
His breathing sounds desperate as short quick bursts of air fan down your neck, and even though his chest heaves, he never stops pushing it into your throbbing cunt.
“Please, I’ve - I’ve — “ Begging, you lose your train of thought, feeling everything inside of you start to pull taut.
It’s too much. All those years of your hand between your thighs thinking of nothing but him has you already dangerously close to falling over the edge. Not even with the weight of what’s between his legs that you haven’t touched yet, just the thick patch of hair that’s always tortured you peeking out of the top of his shirts.
”You’ve what, baby?” He murmurs against your skin working his way down your throat, perfect teeth nipping the base of it.
Baby.
“I’ve wanted this for so long.” You manage around a gasp, letting his salt peppered hair slip through your fingers as he sucks your nipple into his warm mouth.
One of his big hands comes up to cup your other breast, massaging it under his palm. His tongue flicks against your sensitive nipple in quick succession, rolling it between his teeth before licking his way to the other one using the same amount of care. Framing your ribs in his hands, he starts a wet path down your sternum once he’s satisfied, looking up at you from under his thick lashes. He sinks his body deeper into the water, letting his chest drag down with him leaving you with nothing to chase the high you were so close to reaching.
“How long?” He presses, his hands following him, caressing the curves of your body along the way.
His long fingers curl around the sides of your swim suit bottoms again, only this time instead of tugging them up, he pulls them down. Leaning back on your elbows, you help him by lifting each leg that ends up propped on his broad shoulders once he drops the offending fabric in the water just like your top. He regrips the fat of your thighs, pulling himself closer to where he begged to taste. Completely exposed, there’s nowhere to hide anymore but watching the way his pupils swell at the sight in front of him, you can’t find it in yourself to care.
“Since that first summer.” You confess with a shiver, feeling the heat of his breath wash over your cunt.
The blunt ends of his nails dig into your soft flesh at that answer.
“You went so long without getting what you wanted. Let me fix that, honey. Let me make you feel good.” He murmurs, running his nose along your inner thigh, inhaling deeply before pressing a kiss dangerously close to where you need him most.
“Please - please - I need - I” You pant, becoming non coherent staring down at him between your legs like this.
”I know, I know.” He hums softly, dragging his lips lazily to your dripping honey.
His mouth hovers, holding your heavy lidded gaze in his own before flattening his tongue, running a broad stripe up your seam. Throwing your head back, you have to slap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out when he does it again with more pressure. A moan rumbles from the back of his throat, regripping your thighs like they’re the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground before burying his face into your needy cunt without abandon.
He collects everything you give him like he’s greedy and doesn’t want to share, tongue dipping into your entrance so gently, teasing the velvet of your walls so softly that it has your hand burying itself in his hair again silently encouraging more. He smiles into your wet neediness, loving how your hips roll in desperation.
“I wanna take my time, honey.” He chastises you, nudging your clit with the tip of his long nose. “I’ve waited a long time, too.”
His words wash over you like a current, sending another wave of arousal leaking out of you. Cussing under his breath, he wastes no time lapping it up with a satisfied hum.
”Just don’t - just don’t stop.” You whine, looking down wishing you could take a picture of him like this.
You need to memorize how his unruly hair hides your fingers buried in the thickness of it, making him look more disheveled than you’ve ever seen. Or the way you shine on his full twisted up lips and stubble covered chin while his heavy lidded eyes stare up at you blissed out like he’s wanted this for five years too.
“I can’t promise I’ll ever be able to stop after this.” He admits to something deeper than what you meant. “You’re going to have to be the one to do it.”
“I can’t promise I will.” You whisper, chest rising and falling with anticipation, admiring how your answer has his lashes flutter, kissing the tops of his cheeks.
The air crackles around you with something that you’ll never be able to go back from. Something you both know you should never do again, but this it’s starting to feel like a little more than just one night thing, even though it can’t be. Steve inhales deeply, like he's fighting everything in his body telling him to stop, but the sight of you spread and dripping just for him is enough to forget the rest of his morals he had left.
Tugging you closer, Steve plants an open mouthed kiss on your swollen clit, sucking it hard enough for your jaw to go slack, and your eyes to roll back. The way his tongue explores every inch and crevice of you at the same time feels like he’s unhinged his jaw. It’s almost overstimulating having his mouth all over the place like this, lapping up everything so intensely that his head moves up and down. He nips at your clit before soothing it with a soft swipe of his tongue, doing it again feeling how it makes your legs shake and squeeze around him.
His iron clad grip opens your thighs a little more, the whites of his knuckles making sure you don’t go anywhere before finally licking into your entrance. Pulling harshly at his roots, your back bows off the ground, teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep from being too loud. Completely sitting up with your legs over his shoulders, your other hand rejoins the one in his hair. You use it as leverage to grind your hips in time with the thrusts of his tongue that reaches places you didn’t even know existed.
He moans into you, feeling the way your soft walls beg him for more, like what he’s giving you is far from enough. Losing himself, he pushes his face even deeper, the tip of his nose putting the right amount of pressure on your clit for you to gasp his name. The new position has it swiping against your bundle of nerves with every lick, making it harder and harder to stay quiet. Especially when your noises encourage him more.
A growl rumbles low from his chest, fingers digging into your thighs when he feels your legs start to shake. Your needy walls pulsing around his muscle letting him know that you’re close. Rolling your hips against his face with the intensity of someone who’s completely lost herself, the sound of the jets drowns out the wet slapping your ass makes on the edge of the hot tub
“Steve, Steve, Steve.” You whine, eyes pinching shut everything in your body pulling tighter than before.
The sound of his name like that has him groaning, sucking harshly at your cunt before pulling away to catch his breath. Two thick fingers replace his tongue leaving you no time to notice the loss, stretching you out even more. You have to slap your hand over your mouth again, your body shaking, begging to let go. He pumps them in and out of you with the kind of ease that should be embarrassing, watching every reaction you give him with dark enraptured eyes.
“Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He asks, a needy rasp in his voice, curving his fingers just right.
”Ohmygod.” Your eyes roll back, just like your body, teeth biting into the fat of your bottom lip giving him a nod he can barely see from your place on your back.
”No, no, honey. Tell me.” He tsks, leaning forward wrapping his lips around your clit for just a moment, relishing in the way it makes you twitch. “Tell me you’re gonna be good for me.”
”Please — Steve.” You whine needing him to do that again. “I’ll - I’ll be good. Wanna cum for you.”
Something animalistic rips itself from his chest, bringing his mouth back to your bundle of nerves, he sucks with just the right amount of pressure for your mouth to fall open in a silent scream. Colors burst bright behind your eyes as the most intense orgasm of your life snaps that tight string that’s been pushed to its limits all night. Steve watches in awe from between your legs as you come apart for him, eyes glazed over feeling the way your walls pulse, trying to push him out while sucking him deeper at the same time. He groans watching your chest heave, nipples still puffy from the work of his mouth.
He lets you ride out your orgasm a little longer before gently pulling his fingers out, cleaning them off in his mouth with an appreciative hum. It takes you a moment to regain your surroundings, to remember who you are. His hands massage your thighs, whispering praises against the inside of them, leaving feather light kisses on your still twitching muscles. Your fingers slowly release their death grip in his hair as your breathing starts to even out, eyes fluttering open to the starry night sky.
The pale glow of the moon peeks out from behind a thin cloud, the silence of the evening bringing you out of whatever reality you two had just lost yourselves in. Neither of you say anything, leaving racing thoughts left unspoken to manifest into something you won’t have any control over.
”Hey,” he murmurs sweetly, like he knows too. “Come here.”
Steve gently takes your legs from off his shoulders, bringing them back down into the heat of the water. His hands slide up your calves to your thighs before grabbing your hands, encouraging you up. You don’t put up a fight despite the muscles in your body feeling weak from it all. Helping you in, he pulls you over to the other side where he had started the night, sitting you on his lap.
It’s impossible not to feel just how big he is underneath you, or how hard and all you want to do is take care of it, but your body screams at you to go to bed. Curling up sideways on his thighs, you tuck your face into the curve of his neck, fingers finding their way into the thick hair on his chest. The tips of them twiddling the gold chain resting there.
”Honey, I know what I said, but as amazing as that was, it really shouldn’t happen again.”
Resting his cheek on the top of your head, the way he lets you down sounds so tender you almost didn’t realize he was ending this before it could begin. While you were both still ahead. Those lust drunk words whispered from between your legs losing all their credibility in ten seconds flat.
“Yeah. I know.” You say quietly, clearing your throat. Nuzzling into his neck deeper, you breathe him in one last time, before doing what you need to do to feel like you’re the one to walk away. “I should probably go to bed, Jenny’s gonna be up soon.”
Using the last of your strength, you push off of him ignoring the way he tries to pull you back, and the way he says your name like this hurts just as bad for him too.
”It’s fine, promise.” The smile you give him wrapping the towel you’d brought down around yourself doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’ll uh - I’ll see you in the morning.”
”We should talk about this.” He argues, standing up and you have to avert your gaze or all your resolve will go away.
”Really, Steve, it’s fine. We had too much to drink. That was it. This is it.”
The hurt that flashes across his face tightens in your chest turning the butterflies into an ache that feels a lot like heartbreak. You force yourself to walk away before he has a chance of getting out of the hot tub, ignoring the way he said “It was more than that for me” as you slide through the glass door and up to your room.
The kindest thing that literature does is remind you that your little peculiar feelings have always existed. Someone, in some century, felt equally bewildered by love, bored by society, tired of pretending, and hungry for meaning.
please look through the hiroshima peace memorial museum's august 6 exhibition and the stories of victims and survivors. today, august 6, is the 80th anniversary of the bombing of hiroshima, and saturday is the 80th anniversary of the bombing of nagasaki. please consider these events not only as a series of numbers or even a single day in world history but as the living hell they created for hundred of thousands of people. i realize a lot of people in the world probably don't know as much about the actual circumstances experienced by the people of hiroshima and nagasaki, as well as the indigenous people (downwinders and marshallese) affected by nuclear arms testing by the us, so instead of getting any more angry about how people talk about it (and how they dont talk about it) i just want to share. the images in those links are hard to look at but it's important, if you're in a safe place, please take the time to sit with them and what they say to you, it would mean a lot to me. all of the peace museum's permanent exhibitions are accessible for free online, i strongly recommend exploring them. & free palestine
today is the 81st anniversary of the bombing of hiroshima. august 9 is the 81st anniversary of the bombing of nagasaki. please take some time to remember the lives that were destroyed in these senseless attacks. it's also important to remember that there is no limit to what the united states is willing to do to any people it considers an obstacle to its imperial interest and there is no limit to what it will say in attempt to justify these atrocities.
