Work Text:
Eddie needs to give Steve a baby. Immediately–or like yesterday.
All of a sudden, he doesn't care if he ever goes on a world tour with his band or if he sees its’ seven wonders. He doesn’t care if he ever meets James Hetfield or gets him to autograph his electric guitar. He doesn’t care if he ever becomes a famous tattoo artist or finishes the intricate sleeve he’s planning for his left arm. Everything has fallen to the wayside in the wake of his current obsession.
Steve waddling around the house with an engorged, pregnant belly–as a result of Eddie cumming that deep inside of him–is the only thing he cares about checking off of his bucket list. In fact, the intoxicating fantasy has swollen up– like he wants Steve’s tummy to be – to such a size that it dwarfs every other thought in his mind.
His brain is rotting into a puddle of baby feverish yuck, because all he can imagine are Steve Harrington’s hairy tits overflowing with creamy white milk and how delicious and sweet it would feel cascading down his own throat. If getting a mouthful of Steve’s milk tasted even half as good as licking up his cum, Eddie would gladly bottle it up and stir it in with his coffee in the morning– every morning, for the rest of his life. Perfect way to kickstart the day. He wouldn’t even mind his alarm wailing at some ungodly hour, as long as it meant running out to the kitchen to gulp down a big glass of Steve and caffeine before work. Pressing sloppy kisses to his beloved’s plump belly, as he runs out the door.
There are only a few minor obstacles roadblocking (or in this case, cockblocking) Eddie’s obscene path to greatness and fatherhood: one–they’ve only been dating for about three weeks (springing baby making on Steve may be a bit of a red flag this early on in the relationship), two–they’re far too young and dumb to support a real human child (both of them make minimum wage), and three–Steve doesn’t exactly have the necessary organs to produce and carry said baby ( but, why should that ever stop them from trying? ).
Okay , so bringing an actual infant into the picture probably isn’t the best plan of action for their freshly budding relationship.
However, Eddie’s learned two absolutely wonderful and wildly intriguing things about Steve Harrington, since they started hanging out–he’s a people pleaser and he also just so happens to get off on pleasing others. A deadly cocktail for someone like Eddie Munson to be drinking, but he’s unable to stop himself from lapping up every last drop of the arousing beverage.
Now, it should be said that Eddie would never do anything to make Steve uncomfortable or blow past their carefully set boundaries. Following their last escapade– thank you Amy, sorry for all the fuck yous– they had a series of important and lengthy conversations about their preferences, kinks, fantasies, hard-nos, definite-yeses, and how to effectively utilize the stoplight system and implement a safe word. Eddie played teacher and Steve played student, not in the sexy role-playing way, but in the “ this is serious and we need to be safe and communicate clearly ” way.
Steve surprised Eddie with his eagerness. He was curious, open-minded, and accepting. There wasn’t an ounce of judgment or disgust on his beauty-marked face, as they talked, which gave Eddie the confidence and reassurance he needed to believe that Steve really was okay with this.
He was fascinated by Eddie’s dialogue about the magical world of kink and asked thoughtful questions as they delved through the looking glass. His smile was bright white and his dark pupils looked like flowers in full bloom, as he jotted down notes ( could he be any fucking cuter? ) and practiced saying his greens, reds, and yellows. Proving again to be Eddie’s perfect, good boy.
At the end of their talk, Eddie made sure to tell Steve just how proud he was. He complimented his active and attentive listening skills—note-taking and all. He commended his boy for how much he cared about guaranteeing their mutual safety in future scenes—promising to never let things go too far.
Steve tried to bite his lip to prevent it, but a high-pitched whine escaped his throat despite his best efforts. Which was how Eddie ended up explaining to him that he appeared to possess an insatiable praise kink–one that he was very excited to work with and tap deeper into.
As for the pregnancy thing, they hadn’t explicitly talked about the logistics of it. Eddie brought it up in one of their prior conversations and Steve had simply nodded like a bobblehead and said enthusiastically, “After last time, I don’t think there’s any role I wouldn’t want to try playing with you. Plus, the thought of you getting off on the idea of knocking me up is pretty hot. I just want to make you feel good, Eds–don’t really care what I have to do to make it happen. I’m game.”
Jesus H. Christ–and Amy had the audacity to say Steve Harrington didn’t have a way with words? The nerve–her loss.
With his past sexual partners, it had never crossed Eddie’s mind—in the slightest—to act out such a scene. But, then again, none of them had stuck around long enough for his thoughts to wander to the realm of the future. There’d been no rose-tinted images of domesticity and home-making to spin circles around his head, because the second they got what they wanted out of him–a quick and easy fuck–they were gone. Disappearing under the shadowy cover of the night, as if they’d never laid their hands on him in the first place.
Steve is different.
When he borrows one of Eddie’s jackets, he returns it with a spray of his signature cologne on the collar and a sweet note in the pocket–detailing his affections. When they curl up on Steve’s luxurious couch to watch a movie together, he grabs an extra blanket–without ever being asked–because he knows Eddie runs cold due to poor circulation. When Eddie gets overwhelmed by the mess in his room and doesn’t know where to start, Steve helps him clean and divides the work up into smaller, more manageable tasks. When there are tears and sleepless nights and the merciless hand of The Upside Down feels like it's back around his neck, Steve rushes to his aid and gently finger combs through his curls–fighting off the darkness and replacing it with the limitless glow of his light.
And, don’t even get Eddie started on how it makes his insides flip flop around watching Steve tend to their shared flock of misfit kids.
Whether it’s getting up at the ass crack of dawn to drive Lucas to basketball practice before school or helping Dustin schedule a dentist appointment–because that type of thing makes him especially anxious–Steve does it all without a second thought. He’s just that good of a person.
Eddie swooned as he watched Steve learn how to French braid overnight, so he could do Max’s hair for her, while she was in the hospital. The nurses never braided it just the way she liked, but Steve sure did. The guy showed up every day—armory of hair products in hand—to weave his fingers through Max’s red locks, until they were absolutely perfect. Not a hair out of place, literally.
You’d think the list of his saintly good deeds ends there, but nope. Steve was currently in the process of creating a homemade cookbook of simple recipes for El to practice, because she’s taken a recent interest in the culinary arts and of course, Steve– like all else he does –is an excellent cook.
Suffice it to say, he’s the most loving, generous, considerate person Eddie has ever known. Seriously, you’d have to be soulless–which a lot of people used to think Eddie was and look at him now–to not want to put a baby in Steve Harrington. To not want him and his golden heart to be the ones raising your future children? Eddie would have to be a damn fool not to give it his all.
Despite all of their intensive talk about sex and the various rules surrounding it, they haven’t actually consummated their relationship, yet. Which means they haven’t had the opportunity to “try for a baby” either.
This may come as a surprise–considering the rather rapid escalation of their casual friendship to a steamy romance–but it’s not because either of them don’t want to take things all the way.
It’s because Eddie has discovered that Steve–not unlike himself–has had a lot of depressing and loveless sex in his life. Random hook-ups that didn’t care to ask about the scars ringing his neck or the thorns in his side–just greedily took their share of his precious heart and left without a trace. Wounding Steve over and over again–making him question if he was deserving of love at all? If his body would ever be one that someone cherished and caressed with tenderness and gratitude?
It makes Eddie furious to think about. He wishes he could rinse away all of those awful memories. Use Steve’s lavender shampoo to soap up his brain and remove all the grimey bits that have been left behind by people that never took the chance to appreciate everything he has to offer. The exhaustive list of fake friends and malicious family members that took cruel advantage of his altruistic nature–Eddie wants to grind them all up into pieces and toss them out with the garbage, off to the landfill they go.
But, because he can’t technically do that, he settles for proving his devotion to Steve in all other areas of their lives.
He gets up extra early to pack Steve’s lunches for work and cuts the fruit into funny shapes. He never misses Steve’s calls and stays on the phone with him until he falls asleep on the nights that they aren’t able to sleep over at each other’s houses. He kisses his scars and washes his hair in a warm bath when the panic starts to creep up again. He invites Steve to have dinner with him and Wayne–as much as possible–because he knows how lonely the big empty house makes him feel. If Steve asked him to hang the moon just a tad to the left, Eddie would find a way to get up there and do it for him.
Maintaining Steve’s happiness is of utmost importance to Eddie. And, sex? Well, that’s just one more way he figures he can show him how much he cares. So, he’s deadset on ensuring that their first time together is the most memorable sexual experience of Steve Harrington’s life. If that just so happens to also result in a baby, so be it.
“You got me a present?” Steve is sitting on the edge of his bed and staring down at the wrapped box in his lap–he looks like a kid on Christmas morning, grinning from ear to freckled ear, “It’s not my birthday or even close to it. Plus, the picnic by the lake was already so sweet–you really didn’t have to do anything else for me.”
Eddie sits down behind him on the mattress, straddling his legs around Steve’s middle, so his chest is pressed against the strong line of his back. He chuckles to himself–reminded of the time they first got together–when Steve had shocked him by turning around and kissing his neck in nearly this exact same position. At the time, it had blown Eddie’s mind, causing his brain to spill out all over the floor.
“Right, like you don’t bring me a pack of Red Vines any time I sound the tiniest bit sad over the phone,” Eddie points out and kisses below Steve’s earlobe–earning a needy whimper from his boy as a prize, “ Forewarning , there are two gifts in there. One of them, I’m pretty certain you’ll like and the other one–well, we’ll just have to see. I promise I won’t be offended if it’s not your cup of tea.”
Steve melts back against Eddie’s shoulder and gives him a suspicious, sidelong glance. In response, Eddie wetly licks that part of his face, which Steve rolls his doll-like eyes at. Eddie takes the opportunity to grab his chin between two fingers and directs his wavering attention back towards the task at hand.
“Go ahead, open it. You’ll see what I mean,” Eddie prompts and Steve’s hands twitch into action at the sound of being granted permission–another thing he apparently loves; Eddie telling him what to do and when to do it.
The anticipation is killing him–he genuinely is nervous about Steve’s reaction to what his gift entails. Steve’s clearly feeling it, too. His usually nimble fingers are fumbling with the gaudy red ribbon and he can’t seem to untie the thick knot at the center of it.
“Do you need Daddy’s help, angel?” He purrs into Steve’s ear, breathing out hotly against the column of his throat and reveling in the shiver that runs down his perfect body, “I can help you with that. Y’know, I tend to be pretty good with my hands.”
Steve’s rib cage rises and falls dramatically–a telltale sign that he’s starting to get turned on—right where Eddie wants him to be. Trap set and ready to sink his teeth in.
“Y-yeah. I think I need your help–p-please,” Steve stammers out.
His innocent, well-mannered tone is enough to make Eddie’s dick grow hard in his jeans. He’s tempted to toss the box aside, have Steve open it at a later date, and immediately, start fucking him into his heinous plaid sheets. But, that would make mincemeat out of the original purpose for his gift, which was to make both of their fantasies come true. That can’t happen–or at least, not to the fullest extent–without Steve opening the present.
Eddie hastily undoes the ribbon and maniacally rips at the edges of the wrapping paper–unwilling to wait a moment longer. The packaging lays in confetti-like shreds on the carpet, as if the two of them are throwing a last-minute party to celebrate their first time together. It’s absurd.
Steve might have stopped him if he wasn’t so distracted by his own growing arousal, might have taken back the control–but he seems to be in the mood to relinquish his autonomy tonight. However he does put up a little bit of fight, swatting Eddie’s chaotic hands away from the unwrapped gift. Eddie obliges–letting Steve do the honors of revealing the contents inside the mysterious box. He lifts the lid and places it gently on his nightstand, next to a framed photo of he and Eddie at the pumpkin patch. His eyes dart back and forth, scanning the interior of the box and taking the first item into his callused hands for further inspection.
“Is this what I think it is?” Steve asks with sincere excitement and affection in his voice.
Eddie squeezes him closer–if that’s even possible–wrapping his arms securely around Steve’s chiseled waist and feeling the muscles beneath his cute, yellow sweater flex. He loves seeing him in pastel hues–the way the delicate colors contrast with his well-muscled physique. It’s sweaters like the one he’s currently wearing that influenced Eddie’s final decision for the second gift. He crosses his fingers that Steve won’t be totally freaked out by it.
“If by ‘this,’ you mean a personalized mixtape that contains all of our favorite songs,” Eddie kisses as much of his cheek as he can reach, “Then yes, baby. That’s exactly what it is.”
The idea came to him before they had even started dating or sampled the taste of each other’s lips. Stargazing from the back of Eddie’s beat-up van and splitting a bottle of cheap wine–Steve had casually mentioned that Suzie sent Dustin a mixtape in the mail. He rambled on and on about how adorable it was and how now, Dustin made him play it in the Beemer every time Steve drove him somewhere. Each song represented a favorite memory from their relationship and Dustin told Steve the correlating stories so incessantly, that Steve (and Eddie, by proxy) now knew them by heart.
“Now, you’re going to have to be careful with that thing,” Eddie jokes, leaning over Steve’s shoulder, “It goes straight from Judas Priest into ABBA and I fear that may give you whiplash. We can’t have anything happening to this gorgeous neck of yours.”
Eddie kisses a curving trail to Steve’s collarbone–tugging down the top of his sweater to reach the sweet skin–reiterating his statement through little nips of admiration.
“Mmm, Eddie,” Steve moans out his name like a prayer, as he sucks a bruise into place–staking his claim, “That feels so good, but wait–I–I have to tell you–”
Eddie retracts his mouth and sits up, “Yes?”
“I really do love this,” Steve shifts on the bed to face him and his cheeks are flushed pink, “It’s so thoughtful and kind of you–I’ve just never had someone care about me so much. Thank you–for everything.”
Eddie pushes Steve’s hair out of his face–it’s been a while since he’s gotten it cut–and rubs his thumbs over the ruddy apples of his cheeks. He closes the remaining gap between them and folds Steve into him. Pressing their bodies together like autumn leaves in the pages of a cookbook, leaving no room for air.
“I’m so glad you like the gift, but you don't have to thank me, sweetheart,” Eddie says softly and he means it , “It’s what you deserve. Not just the mixtape, but so much more. You deserve all you’ve ever wanted, Steve Harrington and I intend to give it to you.”
Steve kisses him languidly, laying on top of his chest and grinding his hips down into Eddie’s. It’s slow moving and breathy; open-mouthed declarations of the desire for which no words suffice. It makes Eddie feel tingly and leads his heart to beat to the rhythm of Steve’s own–matching the tempo and mirroring it behind the nook of his ribs.
Eddie breaks the kiss before they get too carried away–remembering the rest of his plan and forcing self-control. It’s next to impossible, but somehow he’s able to silence his urges for now.
“One more gift, baby and then, I promise I’ll touch you all you want,” Eddie assures him and Steve reluctantly rolls off of him to grab the box.
“Doesn’t sound like too bad of a deal,” Steve removes the tissue wrapped item, “A picnic, two presents, and your hands on me–I think you’ve maxed out on defining the perfect night for me. I think I might be too spoiled, hope it doesn’t give me an attitude problem.”
I hope it does. I really, really hope it does. An attitude problem would look fucking phenomenal on Steve Harrington.
“But, what if I want to make you act a little bratty? Hm? That okay with you?” Eddie murmurs in his ear.
“Perfectly fine, as long as there’s more presents and picnics,” Steve grins and peels back the tissue paper–jaw dropping open as he unveils the dainty item inside, “ Oh –”
And then, he just kind of freezes with it in his hands and doesn’t say another word–as if someone hit the pause button on the remote controlling him.
To be fair, Eddie’s not sure what type of reaction he was expecting. It’s certainly not the most conventional item to give your new boyfriend–especially, less than a month into the relationship– he’s aware of that. Going into the evening, he knew that he was gambling with his luck–perhaps pushing the envelope further than Steve was ready for. He’d told himself time and again in his preparation (and bathroom mirror pep talks) that if Steve wasn’t into it, then they could simply move on and pretend it never happened. Dust off their hands like big boys and diplomatically, agree to disagree on this particular interest. There was still plenty for them to explore outside of–
The regretful silence and Eddie’s panic–are suddenly sliced in two and multiply–like some other worldly amoeba.
“A thong?” Steve’s mouth is still agape–ready to catch flies–as he strokes the pink silky fabric, “You got me a thong ?”
Steve’s raising his eyebrows and scouring Eddie’s face like it’s a word-search puzzle and he can’t find the answer. He knows Steve’s waiting for him to say something or provide some semblance of explanation, but he’s totally consumed by the idea that he’s ruined it. He has ruined his first and only relationship with the greatest human being to ever walk the Earth. Murdered it in cold blood, before they’d even made it through an entire month together.
Like a fucking idiot.
What was he thinking? That ex-jock, former-king Steve Harrington was going to adorn himself with frills and lace and let Eddie fuck him open? That Steve “The Hair” Harrington was going to lay down in his ugly, straight-boy bedroom and play a game of make believe–one in which Eddie wanted to pretend to impregnate him? That he’d happily agree to something that grotesque? Sure, Steve was a people pleaser and he had seemed to like it when Eddie called his dick a pussy that one time, but that didn’t mean he wanted to roll around in the sack and be referred to as “Mommy.” Eddie had made so many assumptions, he was drowning in them–suffocated and scorned by the consequences of his own mistakes.
Steve’s deep brown eyes were waltzing around trying to find Eddie’s, but any time they got too close to landing on his–Eddie tossed his gaze across the dance floor to some empty corner. Unable to face the awkwardness and rejection–feeling like some vile beast for lusting after something so brazen.
God, I’m such an idiot. He’s going to break-up with me and then he’s going to go tell everyone what a fucking freak I am. A thong, really? You drove three towns away to buy him a thong and thought he’d actually want to wear it. Should have just stuck with the mixtape, Munson–
Steve abruptly gets up from the bed, interrupting his downward spiral.
At first, Eddie was convinced he was going to flee his own house in fear, but instead, he turned to straddle Eddie’s thigh and started talking. The thing is, when Steve opens that pretty mouth of his–Eddie has no choice, but to listen, it’s fucking Pavlovian.
“So, tell me. Do I get to suck your dick while I wear these? Is that what you had in mind, Daddy? I’d really like to get your cock all the way down my throat and show off my pretty panties for you while I choke on it, if you’ll let me?”
Eddie felt like he’d been tipped on his axis and was now defying gravity. Steve was a complete enigma, spinning him round and round–so unpredictable in his complexities. Eddie was once again at a loss for words, but this time, it had more to do with the way Steve was urgently grinding against his thigh and twirling the hyperfeminine underwear around his fingers than it did with anything else.
“Mmm, so hot that you saw these and thought of me,” Steve moans wantonly, licking his lips and rutting against Eddie–trying to get more friction, “Only problem is I don’t think my dick will fit in them, might be a bit of a squeeze. I’ll still try them on for you, though. Give you a show, if you want–my dick just might stick out the top. But, if that’s fine with you, then it’s more than fine with me”
Eddie grips Steve’s clothed hips and pushes down hard, enjoying the needy sounds dripping out of his wine-stained lips. In the dim lighting, it almost looks like he’s wearing a cherry-colored lipstick, which spurs Eddie on and finally allows him to speak again. Time to test the waters a bit more–past the shallow end and leaping into the deep.
“Baby, what are you talking about?” He cups Steve’s obvious bulge and wiggles his hand around meanly–zipper cutting into the palm of his hand, but he doesn’t care about that right now, “You know you don’t have a cock between your legs–that’s what Daddy has, remember? I thought we agreed, you’ve got a nice, big clit and a sloppy, wet pussy. You don’t have anything that’ll stick out, just a hole for me to stick myself into. These panties were made to fit delicate girls like you, I’m sure you’ll be able to make it work.”
Steve groans at Eddie’s harsh, confining touch and fucks himself into his open hand. The second he seems to be having too much fun, Eddie yanks his grasp away and shoves Steve off of his lap. He’s agonizingly hard and has to adjust himself in his pants when he stands. The line of his dick is horribly prominent–Eddie can’t steal his eyes away from the prodding head.
“Can’t have you cumming in your boy clothes now, can we? Princesses like you are only supposed to cum in fancy lingerie. That’s why I bought you some. So, go get changed in the bathroom, while I touch myself on your bed–wanna make sure I’m ready to fuck you, tonight,” Eddie winks and emphasizes the end of his sentence, by lifting his hips slightly and palming his length through the denim–a deep moan exits the back of his throat.
Steve communicates his understanding with an equally loud moan and stumbles backwards, clutching the thong to his chest lovingly. Like it’s his new favorite toy and he just can’t wait to play.
“Yes, sir. I wouldn’t want to get my pussy wet in these ugly, boy clothes–wanna look extra pretty for you when you make me cum,” Steve says sweetly, honey coating his tone in such a delectable way. He’s well trained, knows just how to wrap Eddie around his finger.
“Go get dressed then,” Eddie orders and slips his t-shirt over his head in one swift motion, “Just gonna edge myself right here on your bed. Gonne think about how wet your pussy gets–how much I can’t wait to stretch you out on my cock and flick your clit while I do it.”
At that, Steve beelines for the en-suite bathroom and locks the door behind him. He almost trips twice in the process. Eddie cannot believe how lucky he is to have won himself the favor of a boy that’s so stupidly obedient. It’s everything he’s ever dreamed of and more.
His dick is fully hard and leaking precum when Steve returns from the bathroom. Eddie’s been careful—not wanting to cum without Steve—stroking his cock lazily and squeezing harshly each time he reaches the head. He likes a firm grip, which was part of the reason why he never had great experiences hooking up with girls. He found that their hands tended to traverse his body like he was something breakable—a fragile glass vase or an antique china teacup. They weren’t usually comfortable using any amount of excessive force on him.
Steve, however, was quite accustomed to it—didn’t even have to be asked. He pulls Eddie’s hair in a white-knuckled grip when Eddie sucks him off. He isn’t afraid to bite Eddie’s neck and chest— sometimes the insides of his pale thighs too —likes staring at the marks he leaves afterwards. It’s exactly what Eddie needs—the perfect balance for his twisted mind—someone who lets him be in control, but doesn’t mind taking the reins every now and then.
“Do you like them, Daddy?” Steve wanders over to the bed and Eddie stalls his hand—taking in the stunning view.
He looks good enough to eat .
Eddie wants to devour him and forces himself to sit on his sinful hands for the moment.
“Baby, you look perfect. Better than I could have imagined,” and he does, it’s true, “Can you bend yourself over the bed for me with your hands behind your back? I want to get a closer look at you.”
Steve nods and flops forwards onto the mattress—ass jiggling from the impact. Eddie has a rather ridiculous obsession with his ass, loves slapping it and grabbing handfuls of it, whenever Steve walks by him. It’s round and perky–almost like a girl’s, but ten times better.
Steve’s fully hard in the delicate, pink panties; the head of his cock breaches the top, but he’s done his best to tuck it into the lacey waistband–as they had discussed. His fingers are interlaced behind his back, right above the little pink bow that sits innocently above the thin fabric–disappearing between his cheeks.
Eddie moves off of the bed and sinks down to the carpeted floor—laughing as he lands amongst the pile of wrapping paper confetti from earlier. He leans back on his heels and runs his hands through the shredded mess. Enamored by the little reminder of how they ended up here, with Eddie’s greedy hands tapping roughly between Steve’s knees to signal him to widen his stance. Steve obeying, but teasing Eddie by arching his lower back and creating an irresistible curve with the plumpness of his ass. Eddie reaches out to spank it and Steve moans–his head dropping to hide in the makeshift nest of his elbows.
Enjoying Steve’s audible reactions, Eddie spanks him a few more times for good measure—switching from cheek to cheek and groaning as he watches his ass turn tomato red. It’s splotchy and Eddie knows the skin must sting from the way it takes a second for the imprint of his hand to fade out.
“Sorry, babygirl,” Eddie licks and kisses the angry flesh, making Steve whimper above him—knees buckling inwards a bit, “Daddy just can’t help himself when you look this cute. Your sexy little panties just make your ass look so smackable. Does it hurt?”
He’s being cruel, he knows it must hurt like a bitch, but he wants to hear Steve say it in his subby tone.
“Yes, Daddy—hurts—hurts real good. Love it when you spank me,” Steve whimpers and tries to subtly hump the edge of the bed, but Eddie catches him and smacks him again.
“If you’d rather fuck the bed, Stevie—be my guest. I don’t have to fuck you tonight if you don’t want me to,” Eddie tsks and snaps the lacey elastic band around his waist, causing Steve to cry out. The underwear are really far too small for him, already leaving a red line against his skin from where they pinch.
It’s fucking beautiful. He’s fucking beautiful.
“No, no please, Daddy,” he grounds his feet and stills his hips entirely, “I’ll behave. I promise, I’m a good boy. I’ll be your good boy. Want to finally feel you inside of me—want you to—want—”
“What was that? What do you want? Can’t give it to you unless you use those big girl words of yours that I taught you,” Eddie raps his knuckles against Steve’s balls, like he’s urgently knocking on the front door of a house.
They’re spilling out–all pink and taught–overflowing from the bottom of the panties—unable to be contained by the slippery material. Eddie presses his rings up into the sensitive flesh and Steve fucking begs.
“ Please, please, please. Want you to breed me, Daddy—want your big dick in me, need your cum to drown my pussy—wanna have your babies, just like you said,” he’s referencing the conversation they had weeks ago and Eddie’s impressed. Steve must have been thinking about this for a while now.
Apparently, hiding his own set of tricks up his sleeve. Now, Eddie really can’t resist. All is going according to plan and he’s silently terrified that he’s going to cum untouched before he even gets the chance to fill Steve up and give him a baby.
“Lay on your back,” Eddie instructs and Steve’s cock drips a spurt of pre onto his hairy stomach, as he maneuvers. He looks down at it and flushes deeper–seemingly embarrassed, “Aw, kitten. You wet yourself, didn’t you? Your poor cunt just can’t handle all this excitement, can she?”
Eddie gets on the bed next to him and props himself up on an elbow, so he can face Steve. He trails a hand down to his tummy and swirls the milky slick around in the thick line of hair–drawing designs. Steve gasps sharply and his hips buck up, which Eddie instantly corrects by forcing them down to the bed with his hands.
“I asked you a question, baby. I expect an answer. Don’t make Daddy angry or I won’t be able to fuck you right,” Eddie coos, juxtaposing the bitter acidic words with a sugary condescending tone.
“My pussy’s so wet for you, already drenching my brand new panties,” Steve points to the darkening spot on the pink silk and this moment also gives Eddie deja vu, “See, I’m getting sloppy, just how you like me–so sloppy and messy for you.”
God, he’s so good. This whole people pleasing thing of his really works in my favor.
“Oh I do see that, angel. Looks like you just can’t help yourself from dripping around me,” Eddie ghosts a hand up the inside of one of Steve’s trembling thighs and over his straining cock, barely making contact, “Now, listen closely. I need you to follow all of my instructions if we’re going to get you pregnant tonight. Is that clear?”
Steve whines and attempts to buck up again, but is halted by Eddie’s hands that are still pressed to him for that exact reason.
“Y-yes, sir very clear,” Steve looks him directly in the eyes and Eddie chastely kisses him on the mouth, feeling warmth spread across his chest. He really does love him, he just hasn’t figured out how to put that into words yet.
Maybe today’s finally the day.
“Okay, sweetheart. I know you’re kind of a cockslut and you love to have your throat fucked, but unfortunately, I need to keep up my stamina for later. So, instead, I’m going to play around with your tits—suck on ‘em, get those nipples nice and hard—until you start lactating.”
Steve tilts his head to the side in confusion and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to tap out of this whole thing. That he’s made it too weird. He won’t touch him, unless he’s absolutely sure that Steve is turned on by the idea, too.
“Can’t lactate, Daddy. Boys don’t get to lactate,” Steve says quietly, sounding ashamed and timid, “Want to feed you my milk, but my body doesn’t know how to make any. I’m sorry.”
Oh my god, he’s actually concerned about disappointing me—is he—oh my fucking god–
Eddie shushes Steve and pets his perfect hair, watching his eyes roll back into his head, as he gives him the gentle affection. He wants to soothe his boy right now, get that concerned wrinkle out from between his brows.
“Stevie, you want to be a mommy right? You want me to pump you full of my cum so you can have my babies?” Eddie scratches at his scalp with the blunt edges of his nails, nothing too harsh—rather preserving this moment in softness and delicacy, like the gorgeous underwear on Steve’s beautiful body.
“More than anything, Daddy,” Steve whines highly and reaches up to pet Eddie’s cheek with his own hand, “Just don’t wanna let you down if it doesn’t take and I can’t make the milk for you and the baby.”
He looks genuinely distraught and Eddie realizes that the intensity of this scene– likely combined with the fact that they are about to have sex for the first time and Steve is wearing a thong –has sent him into the fuzzy land of subspace earlier than usual. He doesn’t want Steve to ignore his limits if this is no longer comfortable for him, so he decides to responsibly check in.
“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie tips his chin up with the gentle lift of his fingertips, touching him with great care.
“Hey, Eds,” Steve smiles dopily at him and there’s a hazy cloud cover over his puppy eyes, like there’s a foggy day going on inside his brain, “Why’d we stop playing?”
Eddie kisses the top of his head and inhales the familiar smell of his hair, it’s the distinct aroma he has begun to associate with “home.” He’ll never get sick of it.
“Because, you’re looking a little out of it and I don’t want to keep going unless you feel completely safe and ready,” Eddie explains kindly, “We don’t have to do any of this tonight. We can stop here and watch a movie or go to sleep if that’s better for you. I just need you to be very clear with me about what you want. I don’t ever want to push you into something that makes you anxious or scares you and I know we’re trying a lot of new things at once.”
Steve turns to kiss Eddie’s bottom lip and then follows it up by kissing his top one–evening out the scale. He’s like that–all about fairness and justice, kind of a real-life superhero ( though, he denies it when Eddie calls him one ).
“I promise I’m okay,” he looks clearer and more secure in his own skin, color returning to his face, “I just–I’m really excited to try this out with you–this scene and I got kind of spacey for a second. If anything feels wrong, I’ll tell you. I know how important it is for us to communicate with the stoplight system and our safe word–I took thorough notes, remember ?”
He rolls Steve onto his back and feels him arch his spine up as a knee is hitched between his muscular thighs. They’re a pair of art pieces–his legs–covered in thick hair, embellished by scattered moles, and defined by years of playing a myriad of sports. They should be put on display in the world’s most renowned museums, but then again, Eddie doesn’t want to share him.
“Grind on my leg, just like you do to your pillow. Go ahead, Stevie,” Eddie permits and Steve thrusts his hips in short downward movements–rolling and fussing with the angle to find the right amount of pressure, “And, to answer your question– of course, I remember you taking notes –never seen anything so sexy in my goddamn life. Kind of hard to forget, baby,”
The pet names are pouring out of him, as they always do when Steve comes to play. There’s something about Steve that makes Eddie need to actively label him– ad nauseum –in every cutesy way he can think of. Loves watching him bite his lip with different levels of intensity, depending on what he’s just been called. So far, Eddie’s identified that his favorites are: angel, sweetheart, babygirl, and of course, Stevie . He tries to implement those ones as much as possible into his dirty talk to show his love.
“No hands, babygirl. I’m afraid, you’re gonna have to keep those at your sides–be good for me, okay?” Eddie grasps the wrist of the hand Steve was about to palm himself with and pins it to his side, until he gets the message and keeps it there himself, “Just use my thigh. You’re gonna ride it, just like that , until you cum and then we’ll open you up so I can fuck you properly. In the meantime, I’m going to show you how you can lactate for me–you’ll see. Gotta take your tits in my mouth to prepare you.”
Steve nods his head and Eddie doesn’t demand a verbal response, going easy on him, because he’s still new to this type of dynamic. Plus, Eddie really does want their first time to be loving and a bit on the softer side– if he’s honest –even though that’s not typically his style.
Eddie’s been so focused on Steve that he’s nearly forgotten about his own cock. It’s leaking profusely against his thigh, so he presses it into Steve’s side and ruts against him–still cautious of how much pleasure he lets himself feel, knowing it would be very easy to cum if he’s not careful.
“Daddy, you’re so hard,” Steve pants heavily, as Eddie worries one of his nipples between his teeth–biting at the bud and soothing it with kitten licks, alternating between hot and cold, “Need your cock in me, please. Wanna be full. Need you to fill me up with cum, so it’ll stick.”
“We’ll get there, princess,” Eddie gropes the fullest part of Steve’s other pec with his hand, working his tongue at the nipple, “Need to milk you first or your tits will hurt. Look at them, already so swollen because no one’s paid any attention to them in so long, have they? Your nipples are all red from being so neglected.”
He flicks the hardened nub of each one and Steve flinches, rolling his hips faster and faster—grunting and moaning as he moves towards an orgasm.
“Gonna cum soon, can’t hold it in,” Steve says through gritted teeth, trying to behave for Eddie and wait until he’s given permission, “Daddy, can I please cum in my panties? Wanna soak them, so my cunt’s nice and lubed up for you to fuck it—gonna fuck it so good, Daddy. I just know you’re gonna fuck it perfectly.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you're confused, again. Aren’t you?” Eddie taunts and Steve can’t even respond—too focused on holding in his cum and being obedient, “Little cockdumb, hm? That’s not cum, baby. That’s milk. We’re gonna need to get all that precious milk flowing out of you–drain your tits. I’ll help you, poor thing.”
Eddie reaches down and slips his hand beneath Steve’s thong. The material is sopping wet from his sticky slick and there’s a film of it drying on the inside. It’s gorgeous and Eddie wants to grossly lick the part where Steve’s taint has been rubbing and collecting pre. Instead, he lets Steve’s balls hang over the lace band and jerks Steve in his hand. As always, Eddie can barely fit a hand around his girth. He’s glad to be the one topping, unsure of how he would ever fit something so wide inside of his own body.
“Let it out, babygirl,” Eddie pumps him at a punishing speed and Steve’s hips shoot off of the bed, which he allows this time, “Daddy needs to taste your sweet milk first to make sure it’s safe and healthy to give to the baby, got it?”
There’s sweat pouring down Steve’s face from the effort, slick collecting in his belly button, Eddie’s spit trapped in the forest of his chest hair, and now, cum shooting out of his cock in thick ropes over his abdomen and chest—a mess of various fluids and heat. He’s never looked better, it’s like he was made to take all of it; the ideal canvas for any medium.
“Taste it, Daddy,” Steve pants, coming down from his climax, while Eddie pumps him a few more times, “Want you to make sure it’s good enough, only trust you with my milk.”
There’s a sickly satisfied look on his face, as Eddie dips down and suckles on his tit. Most of the cum landed on his chest—Eddie helped him aim his cock in that direction—so it’s not hard for either of them to imagine that Steve really is lactating. Eddie sucks hard on each nipple, licking and pulling at them with his teeth until they’re raw. Thinks about buying Steve some nipple cream as a follow up gag gift/thank you.
“Tastes like heaven,” Eddie moans and bucks his hips against Steve, too hard for his own good, “Perfect, just like you are. I wanna put it in my coffee and drink it all up—‘s almost as delicious as your cum.”
Steve goofily winks at him and Eddie snorts a laugh, because it feels like a funny secret between them and it’s nice to think they’re the only two in on the joke. Not that anyone else would really want to be, but still.
Opening Steve up with his fingers is the slowest and most gentle process of the night, thus far. Besides the picnic dinner on the shore of Lover’s Lake.
Despite the way he talks and jokes with Steve, his biggest fear is the possibility of being the catalyst for any of his pain–be it physical, mental, or emotional. As much as he trusts Steve, he also knows that he has a high pain tolerance and is one to typically push through injuries and illnesses without the attention of a doctor. Eddie had to nag him relentlessly and threaten to kidnap him–in order to convince Steve that he needed to go down to the local clinic and have his permanently swollen ankle checked out ( as suspected, he’d fractured it and thanks to Eddie’s mothering, it was now healed and no longer the size of a baseball) .
So, he spends upwards of a half hour, sinking his fingers in knuckle by knuckle, one by one–insisting on removing his trio of rings and overriding Steve’s protests. Unwilling to get a skull or pig’s head accidentally stuck in his ass and having to rush over to the hospital to get it removed ( or retrieve it himself, which sounded frankly dangerous ).
With three fingers curling against Steve’s prostate–rubbing it to death–and breathy moans being exchanged into each other’s mouths, Eddie finally gave in and decided it was now or never.
“You ready for me to fuck you, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up?” Eddie grabs the bottle of lube beside him and pops the lid, “What do you think? Can you take it in your virgin hole?”
Steve fucks himself on Eddie’s fingers, hole sloppy and stretched wide. He’s writhing all over the place and appears to be on the precipice of his second orgasm. Noticing this and wanting him to wait for it, Eddie cautiously slides his fingers out and watches Steve’s hole twitch and grip around nothing–as needy as the rest of him. Grabbing for more.
“Yes, Daddy–I’m ready now,” Steve adjusted the thong, so it covered his cock–Eddie had told him he wanted to fuck him in it, “Ready to become a mommy for you, gonna do my best to make it stick–won’t waste a drop of your cum, would never do that.”
“I know, baby. You’re so good for me, always letting me have my way with you,” Eddie slicks up his cock with a handful of lube—it’s out of an overabundance of caution and the excess drips down his thighs, “Let’s keep you on your back. I’m gonna put your legs on my shoulders, so we have a better chance of getting you knocked up. Gotta use gravity to our advantage.”
What am I some fucking scientist? He thinks, poking fun at himself internally, Like you know anything about this stuff. Relax.
But, it’s hot, regardless and Steve clearly thinks so too, because he’s moaning and rambling on and on about how fat he wants his tummy to get with Eddie’s cum.
Eddie slips the back of the thong to the side easily and traps it around Steve’s left butt cheek, which ends up doing a decent job keeping it out of the way.
He lines his stiff cock up with Steve’s entrance and starts inching himself in; teasing Steve by pushing in the weeping head and drawing it out. Repeating the process until Steve opens his mouth.
“Gimme your cock, please Daddy—I can take it—can take all of it,” Steve whimpers and tries to suck Eddie’s shaft in further by thrusting his hips, but it’s no use with the position he’s in, “I'll make it real good. My pussy’s so tight, ‘s never taken a cock before. You’re gonna take my virginity and make me a mommy in the same night, Daddy.”
Eddie moans loudly and only prevents himself from pounding into Steve by biting onto his shoulder—falling forward and letting his dick slide down to the hilt, ‘til his buried in Steve completely and can only think about fucking him silly.
He’s not lying— though the virgin part is a half-truth —his hole is incredibly tight. It clenches around Eddie’s cock for dear life and sucks every inch in, like it was designed specifically to sheath him and only him. It’s warm and makes him throb and twitch, kicking against Steve’s gummy walls with a mind of its own.
“ Fuck , gonna make such a slut out of you after this,” Eddie starts thrusting his hips in a mild cadence, letting Steve adjust to the intrusion, “Gonna ruin you for everyone else—gonna make it so your tight little pussy only responds to my cock and mine alone. Can’t believe I’m the first one you’ve taken, the way you’re moving you’d think you’re a regular cumdump.”
Steve tangles his hands in Eddie’s curls and pulls him down to lick into his mouth—it’s filled with urgency and lots of clicking teeth. Eddie sucks on his plump bottom lip and Steve licks at his tongue. It’s messy and there’s a puddle of drool pooling between them. Eddie leans back and gathers more saliva in his mouth, rabbiting his hips forwards as he goes.
“Open up,” Eddie presses his fingers into Steve’s cheeks and his jaw pops open at the feeling, “Good girl. I’m gonna spit in your mouth and you’re gonna swallow it for me— all of it. Need to make sure you can take what I give you, that you’ll accept anything I offer you, so you’re ready for my cum.”
Steve nods wildly, “Yes, yes, spit in my mouth—pretty please. I’ll swallow it, I promise—won’t let you down.”
His tongue lulls out of his mouth dumbly, eyes glazing over. Eddie spits and admires the line of saliva as it cascades down his jaw and into Steve’s waiting mouth.
“Swallow,” Eddie nudges his jaw shut with the tap of a hand and observes the glorious bob of his Adam’s apple, “And, say thank you.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” Steve whimpers and licks a circle around his lips as if trying to prove his abilities.
Eddie grabs onto Steve’s ankles and pulls them higher, so his hips are lifted from the bed and fucks into him with little remorse. He can feel the knot in his lower abdomen tieing tighter and tighter, looping around itself like a cherry stem. He just wants to last a little longer, talk up a little more filth in Steve’s ear.
Steve is talking non-stop, praising and pleading beneath him. Eddie can’t believe that there was ever a point in which he doubted his ability to dirty talk well. He’s by far the best Eddie’s ever had.
“Gonna breed you,” Eddie groans and locks his eyes on the cock that is slapping against Steve’s hairy stomach, it’s dripping milky white fluid all over the place, “Get you all fat and round with my cum—even when it sticks, gonna fuck more cum into you every chance I get. Never can be too sure.”
“Wanna be a mama, make me a mama, Eddie,” Steve begs, “Need you to make milk come out of my tits, so the babies can grow big and strong. Can’t do it without you, Daddy. Breed me with your cum.”
Eddie pulls his hair and kisses him sharply on the mouth, “That’s right. No one else will want to make you a mommy, will they? But, Daddy will. Gonna get my cum so deep inside you, it’s gonna leak out through your tits. Gonna be a mess of cum and milk all the time, soak through all your panties and shirts.”
In some warped part of his mind, Eddie believes the words coming out of his mouth. Logically, he knows Steve won’t actually get pregnant, but in the heightened passion of the moment and with Steve egging him on—there’s a small piece of him that thinks, maybe it’s possible, maybe somehow it will stick. He’ll get pregnant from this.
And, that thought— the minuscule, near non-existent chance of actually knocking Steve up —throws him over the edge into waves of dizzying pleasure.
He hardly has time to warn Steve, as he practically whites out.
“Fuck, baby. I’m cumming,” Eddie cries and rocks himself against Steve’s ass, balls slapping and riding out his orgasm, “Keep your legs up on my shoulders and clench down hard. Gotta trap my cum in your pussy, otherwise it won’t stick.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Steve repeats and Eddie wraps a hand around his pretty throat—like he likes, “Need to cum, Eds. Need to cum for you—squeezing my pussy as tight as I can.”
Eddie stays inside of him as he softens and jerks Steve off with a few twists of his hand. Both of them are trembling and Steve cums for the second time in less than a minute—spilling over Eddie’s fist and screaming his name over and over.
“Gotta get a pregnancy test, Eds,” Steve deliriously murmurs below him, “Tomorrow, we gotta go buy one. Can’t believe I’m gonna be a mama.”
Eddie kisses the insides of his ankles and feet—where they remain propped on his shoulders—Steve giggles sweetly.
“Steve Harrington, I’m sorry if this is the wrong moment—but I have to tell you,” a giant grin crosses Eddie’s flushed face, “I’m head over heels in love with you—like that lame Tears for Fears song you’re obsessed with.”
Steve laughs and pushes his sweaty hair out of his eyes, smiling wildly at Eddie, “Tell me it’s on the mixtape, Eddie and I’ll say it back.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and nips the inside of his ankle, “Of course, it’s on the mixtape you little shit. I put it on there twice, actually. First and last song, just for you.”
“You really are perfect for me,” Steve says, “For the record, I’m in love with you too—head over heels—and I really can’t wait to keep trying to have your babies.”