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If he’s honest, Zaddy is just the sexy tip of the sexy iceberg. An iceberg shaped like a dick, or like… Ed doesn’t know, what else is sexy… Stede chopping a log with an axe. All sweaty (icebergs are wet) and bulging (icebergs… bulge out of the water) and red (maybe he’s losing the plot, here). All this to say, maybe he was joking at first, but it has become dire straits. He’s choking back words, he’s mumbling and stuttering and tripping over sentences. Stede has yet to say anything about it; maybe he thinks this is just a cute quirk of Ed’s that he had yet to notice.
Because, hey, Zaddy is silly. Zaddy can be excused away as a joke. The word that’s been sitting on his tongue feels a little more real. A little more hey, something’s kind of wrong here. More taboo, maybe. Like, you can certainly call your boyfriend zaddy in front of a crowd of your peers, but drop that z and suddenly you’re exposing people to something you should probably keep private. (Right? He had heard a couple groans when he had said it at Jackie’z. Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe he’s just traumatized everyone further. Oh well, shit happens.)
Anyway, yadda yadda, so on and so on, and now they’re living in their cute little house on their cute little island with a cute little marketplace full of cute little people who greet them with smiles when they (Steve and Jeff) waltz in hand in hand. The word is still in his throat, pushing up into his mouth to bounce off all of his gritted teeth. He’s tried everything. Gargling salt water, gargling tea, gargling… other things. Nothing works. He swishes and spits and nothing comes out.
Right now they’re in the aforementioned marketplace and Stede is threading his fingers (Ed could drool) through a display rack of necklaces, eyes darting to Ed every few necklaces to gauge how they would look on him. It’s an average day, for them. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing in the wind. Ed stands there obediently, hands clasped in front of him. Eventually, Stede makes an excited noise and turns to Ed with a necklace twined around his fingers. Ed tries to focus on the necklace, sees a flash of blue, but he’s got tunnel vision. Hand, he thinks. Fingers in my mouth.
“What do you think, darling?”
And Ed, in front of everyone and God, says, “Looks nice, daddy.”
Stede stares at him for a moment, necklace dangling there. And then he’s going red, and Ed is going red, and Stede is turning from him (fuck!!!) and Ed is panicking and then Stede turns back with his mouth open like he has something to say and then Ed is opening his mouth like he has something to say and then they’re just standing there gaping at each other.
Then someone’s clearing their throat behind them, and they both turn to the shopkeep. “Are you going to buy that?”
Stede collects himself and clears his throat. “Yes, yes. I’ll take it.”
“Is it for him?” the shopkeep says, nodding his head towards Ed, who is still stuck in motion with his mouth open. “It’s perfect for his coloring.”
Stede looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “Yes, it is for him.”
When they get home, it’s like everything has reset. They strip out of their clothes and get into robes, settling in for the night. Ed isn’t going to open his mouth again, he knows better, the syllables will just come spilling out and he’ll embarrass himself all over again. Stede busies himself in the kitchen, making them dinner, and Ed sits on the side of the bed feeling completely unmoored. They had, in addition to the necklace, picked up a jar of sauce that Stede is warming to put over pasta, and a block of cheese to shave over it. Stede had sliced up some of the cheese and put it on a plate for Ed to snack on. Ed is sitting with the plate in his lap and staring at Stede’s back.
“What’s wrong?” Stede says, still facing away.
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” Ed lies.
“You’re staring at me.” Stede has eyes in the back of his head.
“I always stare at you.”
“But you’re staring at me in a way like you want to say something.”
A beat. “How do you know that?”
Another beat. “I know you, Edward.”
Those words sit in the room. Stede does know him. Better than anyone else. Ed stays silent.
“Edward.”
“Ugh, yeah, fine. It’s about what I said.”
“At the marketplace?” Stede says, quick, like he’s been waiting.
“Yeah,” Ed says, soft as silk. “I… It was an accident.”
Stede turns to him over his shoulder. “Was it?”
“Umm…” The way he looks at it, Ed has a few options here. He can lie. And at the moment that’s looking really appealing. But Stede knows when he’s lying. So then Ed would have to lie about lying. And Stede knows when he’s lying about lying. So then Ed would be caught up in this web of lies with no way out but to tell the truth and have Stede be all disappointed in him and that seems way less appealing. So he has to be honest. He fuckin’ hates being honest.
“Ed,” Stede says, turning around and leaning back on his arms against the counter, wiping his hands with a dishtowel. Hands. Forearms. Ed might be drooling. He wipes at his mouth surreptitiously just in case.
“Okay, yeah, sorry. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about it. Non-stop. Since Jackie’z.”
“Since Jackie’s,” Ed can hear the distinct lack of a z. “About what since Jackie’s?”
“It,” Ed explains.
“Use your words, Ed.” It’s a good attempt at a capital C capital V Captain Voice, Ed thinks. Ed is not immune to a bit of an edge in Stede’s voice. He’s actually really fucking susceptible to it.
“It. Zaddy,” he spits out. “When I called you—”
“Oh, is that it? Ed, I don’t even know what that —”
“I know,” Ed says, kicking his feet against the side of the bed. He wants to bury his face in his hands. This is exceptionally embarrassing. Maybe the most embarrassing thing he’s ever done. Lucky he’s not Blackbeard anymore, he thinks. That would destroy his reputation. Blackbeard calls his boyfriend (what kind of pirate has a boyfriend?) daddy once in public and the whole world’s fuckin’ laughing. “I knew you didn’t know. That’s why I said it.”
“Well that’s not quite fair,” Stede says. “Everyone else seemed to know.”
“Okay,” Ed breathes. “Okay.” He wipes a hand over his face. “It’s like what I called you today—”
“Oh,” Stede says. “I suppose that—”
“—but like, more. A step above.”
“—makes sense. Well, I only know what that means because Lucius—”
“Is it gross?”
“Gross?”
“Yeah, the—”
“No, I wouldn’t call it gross, Ed. Nothing you do is gross.”
“But you don’t like it.”
And then Stede has a face on like he’s embarrassed. It’s a cute face, all things said. Pinched and pink. Ed wants to kiss it. “Well, I didn’t say that,” he says, voice low. Then he makes another face, one Ed can’t really read. “It’s just… I’m a father, Ed.”
“That’s kind of the point,” Ed murmurs.
“Is it?”
“Kind of. Sort of. You’re DILFy.”
“I’m what? ”
Ed grins. “A dad I’d like to fuck-y.”
Stede flushes, fiddles with his hands. “Well, I don’t know about—”
“Do your kids call you that? Not a DILF. The other thing.”
“Oh, no. Never. And I never called my father that either.”
“And I never called my dad that. So… Shouldn’t be weird, should it?”
“I suppose not.”
And then they’re back in stasis, staring at each other with big eyes and Ed can’t stop kicking his feet back and forth and he feels like, for all his (barely there) constraint, he should be getting fucked right now.
“So…” Ed says.
“Dinner?”
“Dinner, right.”
“But…”
“But?”
“Dinner could wait.”
“I could wait for dinner.”
“Yeah. It might get cold, but…”
“People eat pasta cold all the time,” Ed reasons. “Pasta salad, for one.”
“They do,” Stede agrees. And he’s walking toward Ed and Ed spreads his legs and starts lying back on the bed.
“Wait,” Ed says.
Stede stops halfway between the kitchen and the bed, arms out like a zombie. “What?”
“Put the necklace on me first.”
Stede pulls it from his pocket, walking forward to wrap it around Ed’s neck and clasp it for him. By the time he pulls back the room feels smaller, hotter, like it’s wrapping around them. Ed feels his heart pick up, his breathing go shallow.
“It looks lovely on you, darling.”
And, Ed is all in: “You think so, daddy?”
Stede’s breath hitches. “I do, angel.”
And Ed looks up at him, chest heaving, and lays down fully, hair spreading under him.
Stede tugs at the tie of his robe. “May I?”
“Please,” Ed squeaks.
Stede unties it deftly, pulling the sides apart and leaving Ed naked on their bed. “God, Ed, you’re so—” and Ed has heard it all before, every compliment under the sun. It all leaves him stumbling and wrong-footed and feeling so completely in love that he doesn’t have the words for it. “You’re lovely, my dear.”
The necklace sits on his chest just between his pecs, giving the slight illusion of cleavage — at least from Ed’s vantage point. He feels lovely, draped in velvet and desperate, his dick lying half-hard against his stomach.
And then Stede’s hands are on him, pressing him down into the bed and stroking along his skin and Ed feels electric, feels the word in his mouth just begging to come out with Stede so big and hovering above him, making him feel small and precious. “Daddy,” he whines.
“Yes, baby?” And that’s one he rarely hears, Stede much more prone to using darling, or dear. His dick jumps against his stomach.
“I want you,” he says.
“How do you want me, sweetness?”
“Want you to fuck me,” Ed sighs, feeling perfect and still and sound and just a little tender, like the wrong touch, the wrong word could bring all of this to an end.
“What do we say, Edward?”
“Please,” he says, lips turning up.
Stede pushes and prods at him, pulling his legs up and spreading them wide, petting over his stomach and his thighs and stroking his dick hard, just the once. Ed feels spread thin. Stede rubs his thumb over his hole, presses in just barely and Ed feels like he could take it without any prep, like his body would just adapt to the push and stretch because that’s what he’s made for, in this moment. Being fucked by his man.
But Stede would never do that; slicks his long, thick fingers with oil and presses them into Ed’s body. Ed’s back bends, his thighs shaking as they push in and in and in like they’ll never end and it nearly hurts, how bad he needs this. They curl and press at his prostate and Ed is leaking, from his dick and from his eyes and he feels hungry for what’s about to happen.
“Daddy,” he says just to say it. So that it won’t kill him, sitting so high up in his throat, choking him. So that it’ll fill up the room like a big balloon and suffocate them both. It feels expansive, the word encompassing them both and pressing them down into each other, so close they’re almost inside one another.
“Be patient, Edward,” Stede says, slicking up his cock and lining up with his hole. “You’ll get what you need.”
And this, the slick stretch and the way his body opens to take it in. Ed could wax poetic about it. It feels fuckin’ great, is all he can think at the moment. He feels struck dumb, his brain emptied out and all he can think about is Stede’s perfect cock and fuck me, daddy, and God could strike him down right now and he would be sad to leave this moment behind, but happy he got to go out doing what he loves most.
“God, baby,” Stede says, mouth open against Ed’s neck.
Electricity shoots up Ed’s spine, his back going taut. And Stede is pushing in and in and in and pulling out and out and out over and over again and Ed grabs at his back, digging his fingers into the robe covering him up still. “Oh my god,” Ed says, feeling like it’s the only thing he can say. “Oh my g—od,” his voice warbles, shaking with each thrust.
“Say it for me,” Stede says, voice way too steady for how fast he’s fucking into Ed.
“Daddy! ” Ed shouts. “Oh, fuck, daddy!”
“That’s it, sweetheart. Give it up,” he says.
Ed feels wild, like he’s ripping at something with his teeth, like if he could he’d be scratching at Stede’s back, digging his nails in hard. Tearing them both asunder. As it is he’s sliding his hands up Stede’s back and twining his fingers through his hair, pulling at it. Stede hisses through his teeth, bites down on Ed’s neck and Ed feels tears spring to his eyes.
Stede fucks him harder, on nearly the wrong side of rough, Ed’s toes curling and a long cry escaping his mouth. It feels like it’s never going to stop, like it’s going to just build up until he’s letting out a blood-curdling scream, like all he’s ever going to do for the rest of his life is lie here getting fucked and screaming. It feels good, almost too good. Fucking great. Fucking incredible.
“Stede,” he gasps. “Daddy.”
And Stede is pushing his legs further up, knees to his chest, curled up into a ball and his chest is pressing down into them and he’s fucking him fast, faster than Ed thought he was capable of. And Ed is going to come, and it’s going to happen soon.
“I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” Stede says, voice hard. “Do you need—?”
“I don’t— I don’t know,” Ed moans. “I think — daddy, I’m gonna—”
Ed comes with a cry, just the friction of his dick against his stomach getting him there, and he’s spurting up his chest, all the way to his chin from how his body is bent.
“That’s good, Ed, that’s—” and then his eyes are screwing shut and he’s fucking in hard and then he’s coming inside him. Ed can feel it, the hot wet feeling creeping up his spine and wrapping around his heart and clenching tight. “Oh,” Stede moans.
Ed’s breath is coming fast, his chest heaving. Stede starts to pull back, to unravel Ed from his position, and Ed pulls him back down. “Not ready,” he mumbles. He needs the compression, to feel smaller than Stede for just a little while longer.
“Okay, baby,” Stede murmurs. “Are you okay?”
“M’good,” he says, voice hoarse. “Fuckin’ perfect. Didn’t know you could fuck me like that,” Ed jokes.
Stede wrinkles his nose, looking down at Ed. “I fuck you like that all the time.”
“Nah,” Ed grins. “This was more. Rougher, a little faster.”
Stede rolls his eyes. “Well, I suppose that was your daddy,” and he says it so delicately, taking care of all the consonants, “fucking you.”
“I suppose,” Ed echoes.
“Should I pull out?”
“Don’t want you to.”
“I know, but—”
Ed sighs. “Fine.”
Stede sits back, his nearly soft cock pulling free. His come comes after it, Ed can feel it trickling down his asscrack. “Daddy made a mess of you,” Stede says, hoarsely.
Ed’s cock twitches. It’s a little ridiculous, how much a few words can affect him. He curls his toes again. “Daddy did.”
“Daddy should get you cleaned up,” he says.
Ed hiccups out a laugh, a little insincere with how turned on he is, eyes wide. “Daddy should.”
And Stede pulls back, ducks down, licking a stripe up Ed’s asscheek and over his hole. Ed’s breath catches in his throat and there’s the word, sitting heavy on his tongue and tasting so fucking sweet. “Daddy,” he sighs.
Stede has him cleaned up in no time, delving laps of his tongue inside his hole. Ed feels electrified, fucked stupid, his jaw dropped and his eyes screwed shut. And he needs kissed. Desperately, he needs kissed.
“Daddy,” he coos.
“Yes, baby?” he asks, pulling back and looking up at Ed, face red and hair mussed.
“Kiss me?”
He does, sweet and soft and then a little harder, a little rougher. Ed sighs into it. He feels silly for having worried — knows that Stede would never make fun of him, that he’s always open to trying something new, that if he didn’t want to do it he would let him down so easily. He also knows that he and Stede are meant to be, his heart fucking beats with it, the knowing that he and Stede are supposed to happen; together, always.
Stede pulls back and then pecks him one more time. “I love you,” he says, voice low and even.
“I love you, too,” Ed replies, smiling, shining with how much he feels it as he says it.
“Uh-uh,” Stede says, smiling back, a little coy. “What do you call me?”
Ed drapes his arms over Stede’s shoulders, “I love you, daddy.”