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Bear Eddie... Call that Teddie.

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when your husband tells you that you look especially handsome today

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about what kink means to Steve, through the lense of his love for Eddie.

(excerpt from the OS Feierabend)

CW: Daddy used as a petname, mentions of sex, no explicit kink named

the first time eddie had brought it up, steve had laughed so hard he choked and then pushed eddie away with one hand covering his mouth and the other on his chest. it’s not like it was a surprise; ever since they started having sex, eddie’s been completely honest with him.

steve knew he was a pervert, heard about all of his weird ass fantasies and his stupid bucket-list long before either of them spread their legs. it was all theory back then, a “maybe we could try this” situation, given that eddie was a virgin with a capital V before him. 

to this day, it’s a mystery to steve as to why. sex with eddie is like nothing else - it’s real, and unfiltered and the fact that others have passed up on that -

steve doesn’t understand it, not at all, but he would lie if he said that the fact that he’s been the only one, will be the only one, to touch eddie and make him cum and whine and groan doesn’t set something inside him aflame.

he had so much to teach eddie, and in turn, eddie had so much to teach him. so many ideas and opportunities to relearn their bodies, that steve had never thought about before.

why should he? before eddie, he hasn’t had any opportunity for exploration.

he didn’t have a need for it.

it fills him with a weird sort of pride that he rivals eddie with the weird shit he’s into, now. stuff that he wouldn’t even think twice about if he were with anyone else, only made desirable through it’s connection to eddie.

sometimes he wonders if he really is as kinky as eddie says he is, or if he’s just so in love that eddie could come home in a clown costume tomorrow and steve would worship his silly, painted red shoes.

in the end, it doesn’t matter.

he is with eddie, does have his daddy, and he loves doing fucked up things with him. he loves asking for more, and more, and then some more, pushing and pushing and eddie never breaking. eddie never telling him no.

he loves giving, too, loves watching how eddie hides behind his hair and rubs his thumb across the back of steve’s hand when he’s nervous to bring up something new that he’s dreamed up while he presses himself to steve’s back at night, just for his eyes to go wide with a boyish wonder when steve says yes just as easily as he has to every other thing eddie’s ever asked him for. 

there is something spiritual about the lack of limits they have with each other, this plane of exploration that has no boundaries, the trust that no matter what they try it’s worth it for each other. as long as they try it out together, it can’t end up that bad after all.

something spiritual about how much steve loves eddie, too, about the trust he has in him, about calling him daddy and having it mean something far closer to god than it does father, about the way eddie wakes up every day and earns it all over again. 

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The kids in the trailer park like Eddie. Imagine him sitting on the front stairs of the trailer with a half burned cigarette between his lips, as he works a chain back on a kids bicycle. A couple of kids are chattering while they wait patiently for Eddie to fix it- because he always seems to be able to fix stuff. Bent tires, broken spokes, busted chains, warped bike frames. Eddie's got it covered.

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Drabble about Eddie trying on a jockstrap for the first time. Steve put an outfit out for him that he really wants to see his husband wear, and those leatherpants will not work with his usual boxers.

Inspo:

CW: Daddy used as a pet name for Eddie, suggestive, mentions of dicks, mentions of fucking but nothing explicit. Future fic. 40 year old Steddie.

With every passing second it becomes more and more obvious to Eddie that it's been a while since he's worn anything but comfortably worn out bandshirts and his trusty tanks and overalls.

Putting on a jockstrap of all things feels so profoundly wrong that Eddie can't help but giggle as the pulls them up over his hips and nestles his dick safe and sound into the pouch of it.

Steve's gotten him a black one, because he's a sweetheart like that, so at least Eddie doesn't have to watch the pale skin around his groin be swallowed up by the starchy white of Steve's straps - A small mercy, that doesn't make that the black, skimpy fabric great, though.

It feels weird seeing the bulge of his dick so contained, and when he turns around to look over his shoulder it feels even weirder to see his ass framed by two cotton straps.

On Steve a jockstrap looks like lingerie - Pretty bulging dick, dark curly pubes and white, broad cotton lifting his ass higher, framing it as if in invitation for Eddie to look and touch.

On Eddie, however, they remind him of the leather harness he bought when he was younger. Ill fitting and too dark against his skin, accentuating the flatness of his body and wearing him rather than having him wear it.

Well, he snorts at the mental image of his past self compared to him now, at flat might not be the right word for him anymore nowadays.

His stomach has rounded out, his shoulders are heavier than when he was a kid. His ass - He frowns again, giving it a light smack and pulling at the bottom of his cheeks. - It's rounder than it was 20 years ago, he supposes. Some of his weight managed to finally settle around his hips and ass, but he never quite managed to get rid of the permanent clenched look that's been his staple for decades.

It's nothing that ever bothered him, he has always been comfortable in his own body. And the only person who had to be into it definitely was, so he feels a bit pissed about how weird it is to have it framed like this.

It's just fabric. He's worn skirts, and dresses before. Panties, a few times, because Steve's still sometimes hung up about gender and Eddie likes helping him, showing him how little rules matter in the end.

So it's bullshit, really, how weird he feels right now. He groans, rubs his face.

Seems like he needs some words of affirmation, or at least a check in to see whether he's uncomfortable or just unsure.

He shuffles to the bedroom door and knocks, loudly. The chatter in the living room stops, and after a few seconds of silence the doorknob lowers and Steve presses himself through the doorframe.

"You okay, Teddy? You don't need to hurry, I know I've sprung the outfit on you last second -"

He sounds worried, but not enough to keep talking once his eyes actually find Eddie.

It's ridiculous, the way he raises his brows and bites his lip. How he gives him a double once over and an appreciative whistle that has Eddie roll his eyes, but jut his chest out just a tiny bit.

Sue him, he's a sucker for the way Steve looks at him.

"Hello, handsome," his husband purrs, "Why don't you give me a little twirl, daddy?"

"For what? I'm basically naked, Steve. You know what I look like."

Steve shrugs, takes his glasses off to clean them with the hem of his shirt as if he's about to try and read one of Robin's letters that she's lately been obsessed with sending.

When he puts them back on he squints down at Eddie's jockstrap, then up at him.

"Hmh, no. No, to me it looks like you are wearing something. Something I picked out for you, which means," his hands find Eddie's hips, and he presses closer until their lips are meeting in a chaste little kiss, "that I've got every right to see if I picked the right size. So, scram. Twirl. Gimme a show, daddy."

He slaps Eddie's ass, a gentle tap that has Eddie's eyes close in a moment of possessive bliss, and then he steps back.

Eddie is helpless to do as he asked, turns around and immediately gets stopped before he can finish showing off.

A hot body presses against his back, fingers snap the straps on his ass and soft lips trail kisses up his neck.

It startles a laugh out of him, too loud given that they've got guests sitting a few feet away behind their bedroom door, but Steve just grins.

"You didn't even look properly," Eddie mumbles into the palm of his hand. It was the wrong - right - thing to say, because Steve hums and presses between his shoulder blades until Eddie stumbles forward against the wall.

"Am I being arrested, officer?"

He's joking, staying still and spreading his legs just a bit because he knows that Steve will appreciate it.

"Maybe for public indecency, yeah. Eddie, God, you look so good. I wish I could stay. You could put me on my knees, maybe..." HD trails off, fingers ghosting over Eddie's ass, "Yeah, this was a great idea."

Eddie snorts at the awe in his husband's voice, tries not to react to the image of his pup on his knees.

A hand finds its way back to Eddie's hip, gentler fingers stroking along the crack of his butt, joining the dark straps in framing it.

Eddie let's him play for a minute longer, and then he slowly turns around.

"Hands off, cowboy," Steve's hands immediately leave a cold emptiness behind, and Eddie pulls at them until they're resting back on his hips as soon as he's leaning back against the wall. This time he gets to look at Steve.

At his wireframe glasses, and his short sleeved polo that's biting into his biceps like a prelude to what Eddie will do to them later. The first buttons are popped open, exposing tantalizing slivers of thick chest hair that Eddie has to forcefully cover with his own hand to be able to make eye contact.

"I was going to ask you if you'd be very disappointed of I went commando after all ," he admits. His free hand trails up Steve's neck, thumb pressing into the short beard he's started to grow lately, and then traveling back, back, until he's cradling his head. With a smile he notes that Steve's put his earring in, silver, simple, tantalizing like everything else about him.

Steve frowns at his words, but stays still. Leans into Eddie's palm with clear distaste at the idea of Eddie taking off the jockstrap.

Pervert.

He grins, leans forward for a quick peck against pouty, pink lips.

"But," another kiss, because he's an addict for the sweet sigh it gets him, "with how much this is driving you wild I suppose I can suffer a few hours in mock jockness."

"Thank God."

The utter honesty with which Steve says it has Eddie cackle, and soon he's joined by Steve's little snorts.

it's nice, he thinks, laughing chest to chest. Maybe we don't have to go out, maybe we can stay in and -

"Steve, you two better aren't fucking in there after I spend money on coming back home to see you."

Robin's distraught voice is loud, the banging of her flat palm against the door louder. In the background he can hear laughter - Jeff's booming laugh, and Freak's weird creepy giggles being enough to set Steve and Eddie off again.

"Not fucking!" Steve yells back with a smile, "Just had to help the hubby feel  confident in his new clothes."

"That sounds a lot like fucking to me."

Robin's frown is loud enough to have Steve burry his face in Eddie's neck in laughter.

Eddie pats him, calmingly, despite his own grin, and then - because he's a great husband and an amazing friend - he slowly pushes Steve toward the door.

"Go take care of our guests, ma'am," Steve rolls his eyes, sticks his tongue out as if he were 20 and not 41, "and I'll finish playing dress up. 15 minutes, okay? And then I'll be all yours."

"15 minutes and like, 5 hours." Steve corrects him, but he smiles and opens the bedroom door.

"You better be wearing all of what I got you later. I'm not ashamed to check in the bathroom stall of whatever club Rob is driving us to."

The door closes in it's hinges, but Eddie can still hear the disgusted groans coming from their living room.

He grins, takes another look into the mirror. Maybe the jockstrap isn't so bad, he muses, it will certainly make wearing the fucking leather pants, that he's been trying to ignore for the past 20 minutes now, much easier.

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TP AU - Where Steddie stay at the Trailer Park, enter a soft 24/7 dynamic with Steve staying home and taking care of people around town, while Eddie works at an autoshop.

CW: Suggestive, Daddy used as a pet name. Maybe 18+ at some points, which will be tagged.

Everything tagged #tp writing on this Blog is based on this fic;

and this fic collection;

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CW: Daddy used as a form of endearment. SFW. Suggestive in parts.

"Come on, baby, take your clothes off, please," Eddie's breath is hot and humid on the back of his neck, hands burning where they are pressing against his stomach. The zipper of his overalls presses into steves back and he can feel eddie move against his ass. Small, little thrusts, like he's unaware of doing it at all, but Steve feels every movement deep in his bones.

"Eddie -," he's wrist deep in soapy water, fingers curled around a sponge. The plates in their sink wash off easily, having soaked for the past day since neither Steve or Eddie had the energy to clean them after work, but Steve knows that if he leaves them now he won't be getting back to them for a while.

He wants to chastise his husband, fondly, tell him to wait a few minutes, Let me finish this, love, and I'll take care of you. But Eddie whines, a low, broken sound, and his hands dig deep into Steve's waist.

Hes mumbling, drool wetting Steve's skin where his lips press against it.

"Cant hear you, baby," Steve reminds him, placing a clean plate next to them on a kitchen towel to dry.

"Not Eddie, please, sweets," Eddie raises his head, hooks his chin over Steve's shoulder and mouthes at the side of his cheek. Steve knows that his beard must chafe, especially with how sensitive Eddie's lips are, but that doesn't deter his husband, "Want to be Daddy right now, haven't been Daddy in weeks."

His voice sounds so vulnerable, so whiny, that Steve feels bad for the laugh that stumbles from his lips.

"Eddie, I call you Daddy every day."

Behind him Eddie whines, presses his entire body into Steve's back - chest and belly and groin and knees.

"Not today, you haven't. Or yesterday. I miss it, miss you."

He's quiet, petulant almost, and it tugs enough at Steve's heart that he takes his hands out of the sink and dries them quickly on his own shirt before he turns around and yanks Eddie in for a kiss.

Despite the quickness of it, he keeps it soft. A caress at most, reassurment for Eddie's place in his life.

His hands hold his Baby's face, cradling it, and his nose presses against Eddie's cheek.

"Oh Baby," he says, lips never leaving Eddie's skin, "Daddy, Baby, I'm sorry Daddy, I've been so busy I didn't take care of you - Didn't let myself be taken care of either."

Eddie melts beneath his touch, his words, eyes closing and face going slack, body sinking against Steve's in a show of full and utter trust - to be held, to be welcomed home.

" You didn't," he whines, "So you gotta make up for it now. Let Daddy hold you, let me -"

He shuffles impossibly closer, a hand scruffing Steve, and the other pressing against his lips until they open up into a drooling smile.

"Like that," he breathes, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, "So pretty like this. Let me feel you, sweets, please, let me -"

His hand runs down Steve's chin, neck, to his chest where he starts opening up the buttons of his polo. His fingers creep under the tight fabric, searching for hot skin to touch, and Steve's head Tips low, staring at where Eddie's fingers disappear.

He swallows, drool still thick under his tongue, before he looks up at Eddies awed face.

"Okay," he says, watches Eddie's eyes snap up, "Take care of me, Daddy, let me take care of you."

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it's quiet between them.

usually, eddie would get nervous - he doesn't like the quiet, doesn't like hearing his own blood coursing through his veins. he doesn't like the way it makes him so aware of his own body, of everything inside that spilled out, once, already.

and when it's dark - when it's dark, eddie hates the quiet. it heightens every sense, dulls his rational mind and invites visions of dark, bat-shaped shadows to invade his surroundings. the once so calming murmurs of bushes and trees swaying in the wind turn into chattering, into the clapping of wings.

so, yeah. eddie isn't a fan.

he's a fan of steve, though. he's a fan of how warm steve is next to him, of how solid his shoulder feels next to eddie's.

steve smells like weed, smells like sweat and faintly like the deodorant he's borrowed earlier. he smells like earth too - like leaves, like wood and like fire. it's an overwhelming mix, but it's one that is so familiar. it always has been.

eddie grew up with fire and wood and mud - with cigarette smoke and motor oil and the smell of hard work in the sun.

steve fits into it so well that it's almost scary. even on the days where he wears his hairspray and his own cologne it all seems to click into place perfectly. like an addition to eddie's life that he never knew was missing, but one that just compliments everything he loves.

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About Eddie and Steve and a soft 24/7 dynamic that Features Steve staying at home.

he’s gotten too used to steve staying home, to steve being available to him the majority of the day.

all day if he clears steve’s schedule.

that’s what he tells steve anyways, with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a smile on his lips. but steve sees past all that - notices the way he physically winces at the mere suggestion of steve rejoining the workforce, how he acts like the thought wounds him, offends him, like he’s somehow failing steve.

it's sweet, makes him want to wrap eddie up and never let go of him. makes him want to bury eddie in his heart, between his rips. he knows eddie's concerned, doesn't want a repeat of the first years after - after everything, after vecna. doesn't want to see steve shake and tremble again, doesn't want to see him freeze and vomit before leaving the house.

their arrangement works, now that they've spend years on perfecting it, working through all their issues. (steve's mostly, feeling weak for staying home, for going from full time work to odd little jobs to staying home completely. turns out his father doesn't have to be present for his voice to be heard.)

but just because it works, has worked for the past years doesn't mean it's what Steve expects of eddie. it's never been a requirement of the relationship for steve. he loves being a stay at home husband, don’t get him wrong, but if eddie came home one day and told him they were swapping, that eddie wanted to be home and he was going to work now, that’d be fine, too.

with the way eddie's face lights up when he comes home to a warm meal and steve having prepared the couch for optimal cuddle-time, steve doesn’t think that will be happening anytime soon.