Archive of Our Own ^beta

The dice roll echoed through the school's converted basement game room. A critical failure. The shadow dragon unleashed its necrotic breath, and Gareth's paladin disintegrated into ashes. A chorus of groans and nervous laughter filled the air, mingling with the faint buzz of the fluorescent lights. Eddie raised his arms with dramatic solemnity, his silver rings glinting like shards of magic under that cold glow.

"And thus, noble heroes," his voice, gravelly and dripping with theatrical fervor, sliced through the stammering protests. "Farkness claims another valiant soul! But remember... death is but another portal in this endless game!" He held the pose for a moment longer, arms aloft like a dark prophet. Then, like air rushing out of a balloon, he let his arms drop. A sharp, knowing smile flickered across his face.

The awkward silence that followed the drama was quickly filled by the rustle of papers, the clatter of idle dice, and the sound of Dustin's impatient knuckle rapping against the table.

"Hold up! Game halt! Necrotic breath ignores resistance? That can't be right. I bet there's a level modifier..."

Eddie took advantage of the impending argument. With a groan that seemed to rise from deep within, he collapsed backward into his improvised throne. He stretched until his bones cracked, watching with a slightly vacant gaze as the group fragmented: Mike and Lucas, in search of more snacks, headed for the door; Will, ever meticulous, had already pulled out his folder and was scrutinizing his character sheet.

It was just then, as everyone's attention had drifted, that his ear—finely tuned to catch whispers beneath the clamor—snagged snippets of a conversation near the display stand, where Gareth, Jeff, and a new guy, Patrick, were talking amongst themselves in hushed tones.

"Not sure, man..." Gareth snorted, frowning. "Are you sure it's not just... you know, pissing?"

"Don't be silly!" Patrick protested, his voice rising slightly. "It's different! It's like... a stream, yeah, but only of pleasure, not piss. My older brother says he's done it a couple times with his girlfriend." He paused dramatically, making sure he had their full attention. "He says it's... mind-blowing. That the Omega goes like, into a trance, and feeling it when you're inside... Oof." He made an explicit gesture with his hands, as if something exploding. "It's the hottest thing ever."

Jeff let out a low whistle, impressed, before taking a bite of a cold pizza slice. "Damn. How'd he do it? Is there like... some kind of trick?"

Patrick shrugged. "Dunno, bro. He says it doesn't always happen. That it depends on the Omega, the moment, how you touch 'em... But when it does happen..." He shook his head, as if words weren't enough. "Makes you feel like a god."

Gareth scoffed, crossing his arms. "Nah, you're exaggerating... no way some extra spill could cause all that..."

"Don't call it just an extra spill!" Patrick shot back, frustrated. He took a moment, twisting his lips as he searched for the word. "It's when they have a... a squirt! Aha, that's it! Squirt." The word came out in an intense whisper, almost a hiss.

Eddie, who had been idly fiddling with his dice, sat completely still. The term «squirt» resonated in his ears like an out-of-tune guitar note. He'd heard it before, of course he had; in hushed, dirty conversations or in the magazines hidden under his bed, but he'd never paid it any real attention. With Steve... everything worked. Perfectly. Steve moaned, writhed, clung to him like a lifeline, came like crazy against his tongue, his fingers, or his cock. He always ended up breathless, satisfied, smelling of hot vanilla and good sex. Eddie had taken it for granted that this was the zenith, the total extent of ecstasy.

But... what if it wasn't? What if there was a higher level, a peak of pleasure for his Omega that he, Eddie Munson, hadn't managed to unlock? The image of Steve, his Steve, arching beneath him with a ragged cry, a stream of clear fluid flowing from his cunt while Eddie was knotted deep inside... it embedded itself in his mind with electrifying clarity. What kind of Alpha was he if he couldn't give that to his Omega? If some stranger, a newbie's brother, had achieved something that he, after months of passionate sex, hadn't even witnessed?

The campaign resumed, but Eddie was lightyears away. His descriptions lost their characteristic vividness, his decisions as Dungeon Master became mechanical. The dragon's roar sounded hollow. His fingers drummed a nervous, syncopated rhythm on the table, reflecting the whirlwind in his head. The word squirt, mingled with the image of Steve's eyes darkened with pleasure (now tinged with the doubt of whether that pleasure had ever been truly complete), echoed in his head with every heartbeat.

The Alpha pride he always wore like armor had a new crack, and that crack had a name.

The headlights of Eddie's van illuminated the trailer just as Steve's BMW pulled up beside it. The cool Hawkins night air smelled of damp pine trees and earth. Steve got out of the car with a greasy paper bag in one hand, his face lit by a tired but genuine smile at the sight of Eddie.

"Hey, rockstar," Steve greeted him, closing the distance. The sweet scent of vanilla and warmth from his Omega wrapped around Eddie like a comforting blanket even before their lips met in a quick, affectionate kiss. Eddie kissed back, savoring the familiarity, but the question from hours earlier lingered insistently in his head, drowning out even the tempting aroma of the food.

"Hi, Stevie," Eddie murmured against his lips, his voice rougher than usual. "What culinary treasure have you brought us tonight? Smells like fried glory."

"Champion's dinner," Steve lifted the bag in front of him. "Double cheeseburgers and extra crispy fries. Though... your favorite place was closed. I had to go to the Burger Barn on Keystone Avenue. Hope that's not an unforgivable crime." He made a playful grimace.

Eddie took the bag, forcing a smile. "Food is food, honey. And you brought it, so you're my hero." But his tone lacked its usual enthusiasm. He followed Steve towards the trailer door, the smell of meat and cheese now mingling with Steve's sweetness, creating an olfactory cacophony that failed to distract him.

Inside, the cozy clutter of the trailer—records, books, clothes, sheet music—felt more oppressive than usual. Steve rolled up the sleeves of his jacket, revealing his firm forearms, while Eddie unpacked the food onto the small table. Steve sat and attacked his burger with the hunger of someone who'd worked all day. Eddie, however, picked his up without enthusiasm. He took a bite, chewing mechanically, his gaze lost on a stain on the aluminum wall. Patrick's voice echoed: «He says it's the hottest thing ever... makes you feel like a god». And the image of Steve reaching that supreme ecstasy... but not with him.

What kind of Alpha am I? The question hammered in his skull.

Steve, after wolfing down half his burger and a handful of fries, watched him. Eddie's forehead was creased by a deep frown; his dark eyes, normally so expressive, seemed veiled, distant. Thoughtful Eddie wasn't exactly the Eddie Steve knew. Eddie was fire, loud music, and exaggerated gestures, not brooding silently over dinner.

"Hey," Steve said, wiping his fingers with a napkin. His voice broke the heavy silence. "Is the burger bad? I know it's not from Meaty Marvel, but Burger Barn ain't that bad after all... Right?" There was a hint of genuine insecurity in his tone, something Steve rarely showed.

Eddie blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. "Huh? No, no, Stevie. It's... fine. Good, very good." He took another forced bite, barely tasting it. "The fries are great."

Steve wasn't buying it. He rested his elbow on the table and leaned forward, his sharp, inquisitive brown eyes piercing through Eddie's mental fog. "So... what's the matter? By now, you'd usually have told me at least three times how you almost TPK'd the party with a surprise dragon or how Henderson made a move so stupid it could only be brilliant. You seem... miles away. Was the campaign bad? Did something happen with the guys?"

Eddie set his half-eaten burger down. He took a deep breath. The doubt, the shame, the feeling of failure churned in his chest. "No, the campaign was... normal. The guys were fine, nothing happened." He swallowed, avoiding Steve's gaze. "It's just... something one of the rookies said. Patrick. Something that left me... thinking."

Steve raised an eyebrow, intrigued but patient. "Something? What kind of something leaves you looking like your favorite guitar got trashed?"

Eddie toyed with a french fry, crushing it unintentionally. The topic burned inside him. "It was about... couple stuff. About... sex." The word sounded clumsy and heavy in the silence of the trailer.

Steve stood still for a second. A faint flush crept up from his neck to the tips of his ears. "Ah..." He ate another fry with deliberate calm. "And what exactly did this... Patrick say?"

Eddie straightened up in his chair, finally looking at Steve. The question burst out like a torrent, raw and unable to be contained any longer. "Stevie, have you ever... had a squirt?"

Steve choked slightly. He coughed, taking a quick gulp of soda. He looked at Eddie, his eyes wide open, first with surprise, then with a hint of confusion. "A... squirt?" He repeated, as if to make sure he'd heard right.

"Yeah, that. A squirt. Like when... you know," Eddie made a vague gesture with his hand, feeling ridiculous but driven by an obsessive need to know. "When... liquid spurts out. From pleasure."

Steve held his gaze for a long, uncomfortable second. Then, he looked down at the table, his fingers tracing circles on the edge of his paper plate. "Yeah," he said, his voice strangely flat. "Once, a long time ago. With a... Alpha from the basketball team. Before you." He gripped his burger tighter, his knuckles whitening slightly.

Eddie felt a stab of something sour and hot in his stomach that had nothing to do with the food. What he had just heard was not a figment of his imagination. It had happened. Steve had experienced it. With someone else. «Makes you feel like a god». Patrick's voice echoed cruelly in his ears.

"Once?" His voice sounded hoarse, scratchy. "And... and with me? Ever...?" He couldn't finish the question.

Steve looked up, and seeing the genuine dismay, the wounded pride, and the near anguish in Eddie's deep dark eyes, his expression softened. A flicker of tenderness replaced the discomfort. He took another deliberate bite of his burger, chewing slowly, as if choosing his words carefully.

"No," he said finally, with gentle frankness. He looked directly at Eddie. "Not that I remember. Not with you."

Eddie's expression collapsed like a house of cards. He looked like a child who'd just been told dragons weren't real. "Oh." The word fell like a stone. "Wow. So... so I'm not... I didn't..." He sank back in his chair, running both hands through his tangled hair, tugging at it in frustration. "Fuck, Stevie. What kind of Alpha am I if I can't...? If I haven't made you feel... that? If some other guy could..." His voice cracked.

Steve let out a long, loud sigh of exasperated understanding, tinged with affection.

"Eddie," he said, firm but soft. "You are a monumental Alpha idiot for worrying about bullshit like this," he put his burger down and leaned even further across the table, closing the distance. "Listen to me carefully. This isn't a video game where you unlock achievements. It's not a to-do list. Bodies aren't machines, Munson. Reactions are different every time, with every person, every moment. A squirt isn't the mandatory gold medal for good sex." He paused, searching Eddie's eyes. "Have I ever seemed unsatisfied when we're together? Have I sounded like something was missing? Have I ever seriously told you that you don't make me feel incredible?"

Eddie looked at him, doubt still clouding his eyes. "But... that guy said it was amazing... that it was the best... And you felt it with someone else, and not with me..." He whispered, the feeling of inferiority tightening his throat. "And you... you're always so... wet... I thought that was all..."

Steve rubbed the bridge of his nose, a small, resigned smile touching his lips. "Eddie... look, just eat your damn burger, okay?" He pointed at Eddie's plate with a french fry. "Because I swear to god, if you keep thinking stupid shit and don't eat it in the next two minutes, I'm gonna eat it myself on top of mine. I'm hungry as an ogre, and feeding your Alpha male existential crisis isn't on the dessert menu tonight."

But Eddie was already in motion. The burger, the campaign, the jealousy—everything melted into a single burning, compulsive need: to prove. To prove to himself that he could give Steve that supreme ecstasy. That he was the Alpha Steve deserved. In one decisive movement, he pushed back his chair. The wood creaked against the linoleum.

"Eddie..." Steve started to say, a note of warning in his voice, sensing what was coming.

Too late. Eddie lunged forward, his arms wrapping around Steve before he could react, scooping him up from the chair with the same ease he lifted his guitar. Steve let out a muffled yelp of surprise, knocking the chair to the floor.

"Eddie, the burgers—! And my fries!" Steve protested, even though his arms instinctively looped around Eddie's neck out of sheer need for support.

"The burgers can wait," Eddie growled, his voice thick with fierce determination. His scent of wet earth, metal, and leather intensified, growing darker, more dominant, enveloping Steve in an intoxicating haze. "I won't be able to swallow another bite until I know, without a doubt, that I can make my Omega have a goddamn squirt."

Steve rolled his eyes, but a small smile played on his lips. "Right now," he murmured, warm against Eddie's neck. "I'm hungrier than anything else, Munson."

Eddie didn't respond with words. He just held Steve tighter against his chest, feeling the thin fabric of Steve's shirt under his fingers, as he strode purposefully towards the small bedroom at the back of the trailer. "You can keep eating after," he tossed out, his breath hot and laden with intent against Steve's ear. "In fact, I promise you can have my burger too. And anything else you want, sweetheart."

"That's the only sensible thing you've said all night," Steve murmured, but he wasn't fighting anymore. He let himself go, Eddie's warmth and palpable intensity of determination a force that was useless to resist. He knew what Eddie was like when he became obsessed with something. And now, that obsession burned with a single target: him.

Eddie deposited Steve with a certain roughness onto the unmade bed, the cold sheets a contrast to the heat that was beginning to radiate from both of them. Steve bounced slightly, looking up at Eddie with a mixture of exasperation and anticipation.

Eddie wasted no time. He climbed onto the bed, straddling Steve's hips, bracing himself on his palms on either side of his Omega's head. His dark eyes, usually full of mischief or musical concentration, now burned with a fierce intensity, an Alpha fire determined to conquer. He wanted to devour every inch of Steve, he wanted to see him come undone in a new way, he wanted to obtain that physical proof of his dominance, of his ability to take him beyond.

But then, reality hit him like a bucket of cold water. He froze mid-motion, muscles tense, the confident expression melting into one of sudden panic. How the hell did you cause a squirt? His experience was passionate, instinctive... but this was a specific territory he'd never consciously needed to explore. A furious blush raced up his neck and cheeks.

Steve, who had been watching the transformation with growing amusement, raised an eyebrow. "And now what's the matter? Did you just realize you have no clue what you're doing?" His voice was soft, mocking, but not cruel.

Eddie swallowed hard, embarrassed. "Shit, Stevie," he confessed, his voice a rough whisper. "I... I have no fucking idea how to do it. Seriously." He looked down for a moment before meeting Steve's eyes again, pleading. "Do you... do you know? What that basketball asshole did? Something specific?"

Steve offered a smile, a warm, affectionate gesture. "Oh, Eddie, no. It was a while ago. And it wasn't planned. It just... happened. I'm not even sure what caused it." He reached out a hand and stroked Eddie's burning cheek. "You don't have to do this, you know. I'm perfectly happy with how we always do it."

But the spark of challenge, once ignited, wouldn't be easily extinguished. Eddie shook his head with determination. "Nah. I started it, and I'm gonna finish it." His eyes sought Steve's, a new idea gleaming in them. "Just tell me... What do you like the most? What makes you feel best when we're together?"

Steve keep his gaze, a deeper blush coloring his cheekbones. His voice was a whisper laden with desire and sincerity. "Well... I really love it when you lick me. When you bury your face between my legs and... eat me out like it's your last meal." He swallowed, his pulse speeding up. "And... and when you knot inside me. When I feel you swell and fill me... that you can't pull out..."

Eddie held his breath. Steve's confession, so raw and specific, ignited a new kind of fire inside him. Licking and knotting. Those were things he loved to do to him, things he enjoyed madly. He could do it. That was familiar territory. A slow smile, full of promise and renewed confidence, spread across his lips.

"Licking and knotting," he repeated, like sealing a pact. "I can do that, Stevie. And I'll do it with great pleasure." His determination returned with redoubled force. Now he had a plan. He leaned down, his lips brushing the hot skin of Steve's neck, right over the gland where his sweet vanilla and warmth scent concentrated, making Eddie's mouth water. "I'm gonna make you feel amazing, baby. Better than ever." 

Steve let out a soft, nervous chuckle. "You always make me feel amazing, Munson. It's your trademark."

"Well, this time," Eddie snorted. "I'll do it with a little more... enthusiasm." His tongue drew a slow, deliberately wet circle over the sensitive spot, making Steve shudder violently and let out a sharp gasp that cut off into a moan. 

"More enthusiasm, you say?" Steve gasped, arching his neck slightly just to give him more room, already anticipating Eddie's downward movement. "That sounds impossible. You're always... very enthusiastic."

"You know I can always surprise you, Harrington," Eddie continued, his hands moving down, grabbing the hem of Steve's sweater. With quick movements, he pulled it up over his torso, revealing inch by inch of smooth, tanned skin, and yanked it over his head, tossing it into a corner without looking. The dim light caressed the defined muscles of his chest, the nipples already hardening just from Eddie's hungry gaze.

Eddie paused for a moment, admiring the view. His palms closed over Steve's chest, massaging the muscles muscles hard, caressing the sides, then pinching and rolling the nipples between his rough fingers until they stood up like small, sensitive stones. Steve arched his back, a deep moan escaping his parted lips, his hands gripping the sheets at his sides.

"Eddie... fuck..." he murmured, a breathy sigh.

Eddie didn't answer. His gaze was already travelling downward, hungry. His hands followed the path, sliding down Steve's tense, trembling torso, towards the button and zipper of his jeans. Eddie's nimble fingers did their work with dexterity, unfastening and pulling down both the jeans and the black boxers beneath in one rough motion. Steve lifted his hips to help him, and in an instant he was completely naked beneath Eddie, exposed, vulnerable, glorious under his Alpha's fevered gaze. Wetness already glistened, evident and tempting, in the pink folds of his cunt.

Eddie went still, kneeling between Steve's spread legs, his breathing ragged. The light traced the inner curves of his strong thighs, the soft shadow of his pubic hair, the throbbing core of wetness and heat. No matter how many times he'd seen him like this, the sight of Steve naked and surrendered to him, waiting, never failed to stop Eddie's heart and set his blood on fire. He was a living work of art, his work of art.

Steve smiled then, a lewd, wicked, and completely conscious gesture that Eddie knew all too well. He knew the effect he had, the power he wielded even in his vulnerability. He writhed suggestively against the sheets, a sensual roll of his hips, and then spread his legs obscenely wider, offering himself. A flash of defiance shone in his eyes as he winked at him.

"Like the view, Munson?" Steve murmured, his voice a husky, provocative whisper. He knew he was playing with fire, and he loved every second of it.

The growl that ripped from Eddie was pure Alpha instinct, a deep, throaty sound that rumbled in his chest. "Perverse," he breathed, his dark eyes devouring the scene. "You're a fucking sadist, knowing what you're doing to me." His hands clamped like vices around Steve's thighs, with a possessiveness that instantly marked the skin. The need to dominate, to possess, to get what he sought, burned in his blood. 

He slid off the bed, kneeling on the worn floor in front of the edge of the mattress, putting him right at the level of the soaked paradise his Omega offered. The scent, more intense, sweeter and spicier here, enveloped him, making his temples throb and his cock harden against his tight jeans.

Steve propped himself up on his elbows, raising his upper body just to see him, to not miss a second of the expression of hungry devotion on Eddie's face. And Eddie didn't disappoint. Without wasting another second, he leaned in and gave one long, slow, deliberate lick from the bottom of the wet entrance up to the small clit.

"Ah! God, Eddie!" Steve gasped, his head falling back, exposing the long line of his throat. It was a cry of surprise and pure pleasure. 

Eddie dove in then. He buried his whole face between Steve's thighs like a man starved at an oasis. His nose pressed itself in the soft curls of pubic hair, inhaling deeply, intoxicated by Steve's unique scent, his essence. His mouth sealed over the entire cunt, sucking, licking voraciously. His tongue became an instrument of exploration and pleasure; sliding up and down the sensitive folds, gently stretching them with his lips, then focusing on the clit, sucking it, rolling it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue in fast, circular motions.

He savored the sweet wetness, the salty, unique taste of Steve, feeling his lips and chin grow slick, the stickiness running down his jaw. The sensation of Steve getting even wetter against his tongue, moaning uncontrollably, was the best music.

"Mhh, just like this! Don't stop, Eddie!" Steve begged, his body collapsing back onto the mattress as his hands flying up and tangling in Eddie's dark, messy curls, pulling to bring him closer, to bury him deeper. His legs wrapped around Eddie's neck, tightening, locking him in, making him his willing prisoner.

Eddie responded with a guttural moan against Steve's skin, the vibration adding another layer of sensation. But he knew that only tongue wouldn't be enough. With a deft movement, keeping his mouth occupied sucking and licking the clit, he slid two fingers along Steve's soaked labia, massaging the entrance. He felt the involuntary contraction that greeted his touch. Then, without warning, he pushed his fingers inside, sinking them into the incredibly wet warmth and tightness of Steve.

"Shit, Eddie!" Steve cried out, his body rising slightly off the bed. The intrusion, combined with the relentless attention of Eddie's tongue on his clit, was overwhelming. His vaginal walls clenched tight around Eddie's fingers, a delicious contradiction between wanting to expel and drawing him deeper.

Eddie waved his fingers inside Steve, bending his knuckles to find that rough spot that made Steve squeal. He found it. And once he did, he pressed rhythmically, rubbing, while his tongue never ceased its assault on the clit. He sucked, giving long, flat licks, then focusing on the tip with rapid flicks. He felt Steve's cunt clenching spastically around his fingers, the muscles of Steve's thighs trembling against his ears.

"Eddie... Fuck, fuck... I'm gonna...!" Steve warned, his voice a choked cry, broken by the pleasure consuming him. His hips rubbed uncontrollably against Eddie's face, seeking more friction, more depth.

Eddie made an affirmative sound, a groan that vibrated against Steve's clit. He didn't slow down. On the contrary, he intensified his efforts. He sucked harder, rubbed his fingers more insistently against the G-spot, feeling Steve's body tense like a violin string about to snap.

And it snapped. With a heart-wrenching cry that was half sob, half relief, Steve came. His cunt clenched like a vise around Eddie's fingers, a series of powerful, rapid contractions that expelled a new torrent of wetness directly into Eddie's mouth and over his fingers. Eddie drank, swallowed, savoring the essence of his Omega's orgasm, feeling Steve's body shudder beneath him, hearing Steve's moans turn into desperate gasps. He kept licking, gently now, prolonging the spasm, drinking down every last drop, until the tremors subsided and Steve was left panting, melted into the sheets, his body glistening with sweat and his own juices.

Eddie slowly pulled back, breathing hard. His chin, his lips, his jaw—everything glistened with wetness, drenched in Steve. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving his Omega's trembling, arched body. An intense orgasm, yes. But not the one he was after. Not the squirt. A stab of frustration mingled with the satisfaction. He brought his fingers, still shiny and sticky with Steve's wetness, to his mouth and sucked them greedily, cleaning them with his tongue, his dark eyes fixed on Steve, who could barely catch his breath.

"H-Holy fuck, Munson... you're fucking incredible..." Steve tried to speak, his voice a hoarse whisper, broken by the last tremors.

But Eddie wasn't done. The frustration turned into renewed determination. He leaned over Steve again, who lay exhausted and trembling. This time, his approach was different, slower, more deliberately overwhelming. He began to rub his wet chin and mouth against Steve's cheek, then moved down to his neck, his shoulder, leaving small, wet kisses scattered like burning petals on his skin, each one accompanied by words whispered directly against his flesh, a mix of worship and provocation:

"My perfect Omega... so beautiful like this... all trembling and open for me..." A little kiss on the jaw. "So wet... always so sweet..." A brush of lips on the curve of Steve's shoulder. "But I want more... I need to see it..." His hot breath traced the line of Steve's collarbone. "I need to feel you explode in a new way, Stevie..." A firmer kiss, almost a soft bite, at the spot where neck met shoulder, while his hand returned, with a light but insistent pressure, to Steve's swollen, ultrasensitive clit.

Steve arched violently, a long, sharp moan escaping his lips. "E-Eddie... no... please... not so... soon..." He pleaded, but his body writhed under the double overstimulation: the persistent touch and the filthy words embedding themselves in his mind, feeding the fire even as his nerves screamed for a break. His fingers dug into Eddie's shoulders, seeking anchorage in a world that was shrinking into searing sensations. He was literally coming undone beneath him, unable to control the tremors wracking him, the involuntary spasms rippling through his core every time Eddie's fingers or mouth found a new sensitive spot, every time one of those worshipful words resonated in his ear.

Eddie watched, fascinated and still ravenous, as Steve disintegrated under his touch and his words. This extreme vulnerability, this sensitivity bordering on pain mixed with pleasure... it was new. It was his. But it still wasn't enough. It wasn't the goal.

With a rough grunt of need, Eddie finally stood up beside the bed. His nimble fingers lunged for his belt, unbuckling it with sharp, decisive movements; the metallic click of the buckle, the shrill zzzzip of the zipper lowering, announcing his intention. Steve, still panting, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed, forced his eyelids open. His gaze, clouded by pleasure and overload, settled on Eddie's cock springing free from his boxers, fully erect, thick and throbbing with violent urgency. A beast unleashed, craving its den.

"W-Wait... my nerves are raw... I need... a moment..." Steve tried to protest, his voice barely a weak thread, but his eyes were locked onto his Alpha's dark, leaking cock with a mixture of genuine fear and a renewed desire that surprised even himself. His body, so overwhelmed, responded instinctively to his Alpha's primal call.

"I can't take it anymore," Eddie growled, his voice thick with an animal urgency that brooked no argument. He grabbed Steve firmly by the ankles and dragged him toward the edge of the bed with a sharp tug, making him yelp in surprise. Before Steve could react, Eddie was already positioned between his still-open, trembling thighs. His cock, hard as steel and burning hot, pressed against Steve's swollen, red, and painfully sensitive cunt lips.

The sensation was a white bolt of lightning. Steve sobbed, a ragged sound torn from deep within due to overstimulation and a piercing, deep pleasure that ran through him head to toe. His legs jerked violently, trying to clamp shut by reflex, but Eddie's thighs, like iron bars, held him open.

Eddie didn't flinch. He slid his cock up and down over Steve's soaked cunt, feeling the abundant, almost obscene wetness coating his entire length, even his heavy, tight balls. The rubbing, the burning friction against his own sensitive skin, the enveloping heat of Steve... it was almost too much even for him. A guttural groan escaped his lips.

"Eddie... f-fuck... slow... slow down..." Steve pleaded, his hands clutching desperately at Eddie's arms, his nails digging into the sweaty skin, searching for something to hold onto in the whirlwind.

Eddie leaned over him, capturing his lips in a deep, wet kiss that tasted of himself, of Steve. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured against his lips, an attempt at calm that his tense body and throbbing cock completely belied. "Just relax... let me in... let me give you everything I want..." And with that whispered promise, he pushed in slowly. The thick, bulbous head of his cock met immediate resistance—Steve's entrance was tense, clenched, and painfully sensitive, yet soaked to the point of being treacherously slick. He pushed through, inch by torturous inch, while Steve gasped, moaned, and writhed beneath him.

"Ah! Shit, it's too much—!" Steve cried out, his eyes, now wide open and brimming with tears of overstimulation and a twinge of genuine pain, searching for Eddie's.

But Eddie didn't stop. He felt the exact moment the resistance gave way, when Steve's cunt, still spasming from the previous orgasm but incredibly receptive and wet from its own need, swallowed him whole in one wet, shameful slide, causing their pubic bones to suddenly collide.

They both screamed in unison, a raw sound that filled the trailer—Eddie from the incredible sensation of being buried balls-deep in that tight, pulsating warmth that sucked him in; Steve from the fierce impact of the sudden fullness, the feeling of being split in two and stuffed to the brim all at once, the overstimulation reaching an unbearable peak that wiped out all thought.

"Bloody hell! You feel so... good... So fucking good as always," Eddie gasped, burying his face in Steve's neck, inhaling deeply his intoxicating scent—warm vanilla, sweaty skin, and that unique sweetness that only emanated when he was like this, desperate and open for him. His hips were already moving, a slow, almost lazy rhythm at first, but each thrust sank his thick cock deep into Steve's drenched cunt. The sensation was overwhelming: wet heat, spasming contractions gripping him like a silken glove, and the obscene sound of slick flesh slapping together.

"E-Eddie... Uugh, God... s-so full..." Steve moaned, his nails scratching down Eddie's back through the thin fabric of his shirt. His legs wrapped tightly around Eddie's waist, his heels digging into his buttocks, pushing him to go deeper. Each thrust made his cunt throb and spill more of that sugary wetness soaking the base of Eddie's cock. "Oh, shit! There! Right... ah, fuck, there!" he shrieked when Eddie, with predator instinct, found that spot that made him see stars.

Eddie lifted his head from Steve's neck, his dark eyes, almost black with lust, devouring his Omega's face. Steve's lips were parted, gasping, his eyes glassy and lost in pleasure, an expression of total abandon that made Eddie's Alpha pride roar.

"Stevie," Eddie growled, his voice rough, laden with possessiveness. "You look gorgeous... so mine. Wrecked by my cock and I haven't even really started yet, baby." He leaned down and captured Steve's lips in a voracious, wet, dominant kiss. His tongue invaded, claiming, while his hips quickened the rhythm, pounding that spot over and over. "I'm gonna make you feel so much better than that basketball asshole," he muttered against his lips. "I'm gonna make you fly."

Steve couldn't respond coherently. He could only emit high, broken moans, each thrust resonating through his arched body. "E-Eddie! N-Not so hard! It's... too much! A-aahh!" He begged, despite his heels relentlessly pressed into the Alpha's lower back, seeking more friction, more depth. The overstimulation from the previous orgasm had made him hypersensitive; every internal touch was an electric spark, every thrust a wave threatening to drown him.

Eddie watched with fascination as tears streamed from Steve's eyes onto his cheeks. "No," he shook his head, a defiant gleam in his gaze. "It's not too much. It's exactly what you need. What I must give you." His hands slid down Steve's sweaty sides, gripping his hips hard. "Gonna flip you over, princess. I need... to see more." With a grunt of effort, Eddie pulled out completely. The wet, sucking sound as he withdrew made Steve whimper at the loss.

Before Steve could protest, Eddie grabbed him firmly and flipped him over onto the bed with surprising ease. Steve landed face down on the rumpled sheets with a small gasp. Eddie settled behind him, grabbing his round, firm ass cheeks with both hands, spreading them apart, exposing the completely obscene and glorious sight: the beginning of his tight rear hole and his swollen cunt, intensely red, glistening and open, dripping wetness onto his trembling thighs. Eddie's breath caught.

"Holy God... what a view," he murmured, admiringly, running a thumb over the soaked lips, gathering the wetness and watching they gave way as his cock throbbed. 

Steve buried his face in the pillow, a muffled moan of embarrassment and arousal vibrating in his throat. "M-Munson, don't look so much! It's...!"

"It's a very hot panorama," Eddie cut him off, his voice deep as thunder. He grabbed his cock, thick and throbbing, slick with Steve's juices, and aligned the swollen head with the slippery entrance. "And now, if you'll excuse me..." He pushed in slowly, feeling Steve's inner walls stretch and welcome his girth again, accompanied by a pained moan from the Omega, "I will resume my place." 

He sank to the hilt in one firm push, going even deeper in this position. Steve cried out into the pillow, his back arching in an almost painful curve of pleasure. He could feel Eddie hitting his cervix directly, a deep, intense sensation.

"Eddie! Fuck, you're... so deep! You're gonna kill me!" Steve shrieked, as Eddie began to thrust with renewed strength and determination. The new angle allowed for devastating penetration; each thrust was an affirmation of his desire and his insecurity transforming into resolve. The sound of his thighs slapping against Steve's buttocks was obscene, a wet, fast rhythm.

Eddie looked down, hypnotized by the sight of his own thick, dark cock, disappearing again and again into Steve's red, open cunt, which dripped copiously with every thrust.

But it still wasn't enough. Eddie wanted to see it. He wanted to provoke it. With his left hand holding Steve's hip steady, his right hand slid forward, seeking Steve's small, hard clit, swollen and throbbing like a jewel. His fingers found it, and without mercy, began to rub it, pinching gently at first, then with more pressure, in fast, furious circles, grinding it with his thumb.

"No! Eddie, stop! Seriously, this is too much! Ahh, shit, please!" Steve sobbed, his body convulsing between the two sources of pleasure: the massive cock wrecking his cunt and the expert fingers torturing his hypersensitive clit. He struggled weakly, but Eddie had him pinned down, his weight and strength dominating. 

"Come on, Stevie! Give it to me good!" Eddie shouted over Steve's moans, speeding up both the thrusts of his hips and the movements of his fingers. He hit Steve's G-spot relentlessly, the head of his cock crushing it with every deep entry, while his fingers gave no respite to the small bud. "Drench for me! I need to feel it! Prove I'm a good Alpha!"

It was an intense, inescapable overload. Steve felt something break inside, not from pain, but from extreme pressure, a tsunami he couldn't contain. His body tensed like a bow, a ragged, high-pitched, broken cry tore from his throat, muffled by the pillow. His abdominal muscles contracted violently, his back arched to the limit.

And then, before Eddie's wide, fascinated eyes, it happened: a powerful, unmistakable stream of clear fluid gushed from Steve's cunt, further soaking Eddie's cock which was still thrusting inside him, splattering the sheets beneath, even the floor. It was a torrent of pure, undeniable pleasure, immediately followed by violent internal contractions that clamped down on Eddie's cock like a vise.

"Yeah! Fuck, Steve, that's it! Holy shit!" Eddie roared, pride, relief, and lust exploding in his chest like a supernova. He had seen the squirt. He had really done it. It was his achievement, his Omega.

Steve's orgasmic contractions, combined with the glorious sight and the feeling of triumph, were the final spark for Eddie. He felt the familiar, overwhelming heat building at the base of his spine, a guttural roar escaping his lips.

His knot began to swell rapidly just inside the entrance to Steve's cunt. It was a uniquely intense stretching sensation that sealed them both together. Eddie pushed with all his might, burying himself to the hilt, feeling his knot expand and completely block the opening, knotting deep inside Steve. With one last hoarse cry, Eddie let go; thick, hot jets of his semen filling Steve deeply, pulsing in sync with the Omega's still-spasming cunt.

Steve could barely react. The squirt combined with the previous orgasm had left him completely shattered, a trembling, dead weight on the soaked sheets. He could only emit small, broken whimpers, almost sobs, as his body processed the overload. Eddie, still knotted inside him, collapsed onto Steve's back, panting like a broken engine, his sweaty chest sticking to Steve's skin. His cock throbbed inside the hot, tight cunt, each pulse sending small waves of residual pleasure through both of them.

Eddie began to cover the nape of Steve's neck and shoulders with small, wet, panting kisses, interspersed with his own ragged breaths. "You... you felt it, right, Stevie?" he murmured, his voice hoarse but full of triumphant amazement. "That was... fuck, that was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. You're the hottest." He buried his nose in Steve's sweaty hair, inhaling deeply his essence mixed with sex and satisfaction. "See? Told you... I was gonna make you feel amazing... I did it!"

Steve, whose face was still buried in the pillow, made a sound that could have been a moan or a complaint. With titanic effort, he turned his head slightly, one brown eye, glazed and exhausted, staring at Eddie with disbelief. "You're... an idiot... Munson," he managed to articulate, his voice rough and spent. "An obsessive... competitive... fucking... idiot." But there was no real anger, just deep fatigue and affectionate resignation. "Happy... now? Is your Alpha ego... fed?"

Eddie smiled, a wide, satisfied, though tired gesture. He kissed the corner of Steve's lips. "More than fed, sweetheart. It's... euphoric." He shifted his hips slightly, feeling his still-swollen knot tug gently at Steve's sensitive vaginal walls, making the Omega whimper weakly. "And what about you... satisfied? Or do I need... to prove something else?" His tone was playful, but there was a layer of genuine concern beneath the arrogance.

Steve closed his eye and let out a long sigh. "I'm... wrecked, Eddie. Happy... but wrecked. And hungrier." He opened his eye again, a spark of his usual sarcasm reappearing. "If you... don't mind... my burger... is cold... and your bed... is definitely... soaked... with things... that aren't... soda."

Eddie laughed, a rough, happy sound that vibrated against Steve's back. "Sheets can be washed, Stevie. And burgers..." He leaned in to kiss Steve's ear. "... we'll reheat them. Later." He squeezed Steve's hips gently, closing his eyes briefly. "Now... now just stay here. With me... Like this." He buried his face in Steve's neck, inhaling his scent, his triumph, his Omega. The buzzing noise of the boys' conversation, the doubt, everything had disappeared. Replaced by the sound of their synchronized breathing, the smell of sex and satisfaction, and the silent, deep certainty that, squirt or no squirt, he was exactly the Alpha Steve needed.

And that, of course, he could make him gush like a fucking geyser when he set his mind to it.