Week #5 Prompt: Silent | Word Count: 1022 | Rating: E | POV: Steve | CW: Soft Dom/Sub Vibes | Tags: Sub Steve Harrington, Dom Eddie Munson, Yeah He's Gagged, But It's Still Soft Around Here
Eddie's hand is gripping Steve's shoulder, just holding him still and in place on his knees at the foot of the bed. He can't see Eddie hovering behind him, only the messy sheets on their bed laid out before him, as Eddie keeps him immobile. Eddie's other hand pets the nape of his neck, and Steve knows what he wants, so he tilts his head back, giving himself over, as he closes his eyes.
"That's good," Eddie says, soft and melodic. It always takes Steve a minute to get used to the quiet of this Eddie. To catch up. To get on the same page.
Steve's so used to the loud and brash version, that this version with the solid, reined in control, has always been a touch disconcerting.
It's taken time to get used to it, taken time to learn how to submit without any pushy, loud demands. He's still learning. But Steve tries. He breathes through his nose, sucking in air, and then pushes it back out again.
Eddie squeezes his shoulder in time with his breathing. A deep squeeze as he inhales, and a slow release of pressure as he exhales. And that does feel good. Centering. It's quiet, and completely still in the room. The only sound is Steve's breathing, and Eddie's rings slightly clinking together as he applies steady pressure to Steve's bare skin, and then lets it fade, again and again.
Eddie may be able to temper himself, may have all the self-control in the world in this room, but Steve can't say the same for himself.
So, he's gagged. Eddie's bandana rolled up and forced between his teeth, tied into place behind his head. The fabric is wet, and he can't help touching it repeatedly with his tongue. Being held open this way, for this long, is making his jaw a little sore, but in a good way. Everything Eddie does, even if Steve's less than gung ho about it from the outset, is good.
Steve's learned to trust the process. Even if he's terrible at it. Because Steve knew he was supposed to be quiet tonight. And yet, he still couldn't manage to do even that one simple thing. Instead, he was gasping and moaning and whining so loud that Eddie decided it had to be done for him with a black strip of fabric, decorated in long-ago faded skulls.
"That's better, finally some peace and quiet around here," Eddie says, and Steve thinks that's a little ironic. Eddie doesn't have a leg to stand on about keeping quiet. He hasn't gone twenty minutes without yapping for as long as Steve's known him.
Unless they're doing this, of course, where Eddie Munson is suddenly as quiet as a church mouse. Somehow. Against all odds.
But Steve nods, agreeing with Eddie's statement, because that's what Eddie needs from him. Wants. Desires.
Steve likes the noise.
But he's giving Eddie the silence he's requested.
Because when it comes down to it, Steve's always willing to submit to him, even if this particular line item is not something that really revs his engine. Steve would rather hear Eddie. His voice, his laugh, his whole, far too big to contain, personality.
And yet, somehow Eddie does just that: contains it. He tamps it down, bottles it up, shoves it away, and Steve is a little bit in awe of that, still, all these years later.
Steve swallows as much as he can around the gag, and it always makes him feel like he's gonna choke. It's not totally silent, can't be, as he works his throat to get the lump there to go down. He's sure it can't be pretty. And he likes to be pretty for Eddie. Likes when Eddie looks at him like he's still stunned that he caught Steve Harrington, and got to keep him.
It's selfish, and vain, and-
"Steve," Eddie says, and Steve opens his eyes, looking up at him. Forgetting where his brain was wandering off to, mid-thought, as Eddie's eyes lock on his.
He's fine. He's good. And Eddie sees that, checking in, and once Steve's sure Eddie has found what he's looking for, Steve closes his eyes again.
If he wanted out of this, all he'd have to do is stand up. Or reach up and untie the fabric. And Eddie would let him. Eddie's in control, Eddie's leading, but Steve always has an easy out. A clearly marked exit ramp, if needed. Eddie's always made that abundantly clear.
Steve doesn't really like to be restrained, and Eddie really doesn't like to worry about him.
He suddenly wants to be closer to Eddie, and leans his head back further, until the back of his head touches Eddie's stomach.
Eddie strokes his hair, and it's nice. Relaxing. As much as he can relax on his knees, jaw sore.
Then, Eddie shifts and uses his thumb to stroke between Steve's eyebrows, soft upward motions, and it's like Eddie is pulling the tension straight out of him. It's like his strings have been cut, as he slumps forward, and Eddie was clearly prepared for that, because he guides him up onto the bed.
Adjusts his pliant form, and finally slides into Steve's body. Steve breathes deep through his nose, and moans around the bandana, as Eddie's hands grip is his hips, finally fucking him. Steve's cheek and chest are pressed into the sheets, his ass pulled upwards so Eddie can get the angle he wants.
Hips snapping against Steve's ass, his bony hips digging in, working to bring this all to a close.
And Steve shuts his eyes and enjoys the ride.
Then he feels Eddie's fingers untying the fabric, feels the bandana being pulled from his mouth, feels the release of being released wash over him. This must be what a dog that's been let off-leash feels like.
Free.
"Let me hear you now," Eddie says.
And Steve lets loose, finding his voice. It's dry, and scratchy, but he gives Eddie everything he has, and Eddie gives it back to him, tenfold.
Loud moans, louder words, and deafening, ear-ringing amounts of love.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesmuttyseptember to follow along with the filth! 💦
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🪐 moon in your eyes (free from the life that you knew) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright
[T, 2k, Louis/Samantha Stephens, fic post]
While Louis is staying with her Uncle Abner and Aunt Gladys, she sees their neighbor Mrs. Stephens doing magic and is immediately drawn to her. The more she learns about Mrs. Stephens' husband and how little he appreciates his wife's magic, the more Louis wants to make her understand how special she is.Bewitched AU.
🪐 you’re the reason that I’m feeling brave by @badgerinbloom
[G, 3k, Louis/Tom Holland, fic post]
Tom is promoting his new movie and is in London. Louis is promoting his new album. Tom and Louis arrive at the BBC at the same time, and run into each other (quite literally). Louis is grumpy, but when he sees who it is, he can't stay very mad for long, and he certainly doesn’t expect anything to come out of this either.
Thank you to everyone who continues to participate! I'm having so much fun seeing what you all come up with, and we're getting some amazing fic, poetry, art, and even LEGOs. This is so much fun.
Prompt for Week Five:
Mistaken Identity.
Do we have a Crowley doppelgänger? Is the Metatron concealing his identity? Does someone think they are talking to someone else? You all know the drill at this point - you get to interpret this however you want!
The Rules Are Simple:
Every Friday until the Season 3 premiere, I'll post a prompt.
You will have a week to write, draw, paper craft, record, completely scrap and start from the beginning after a crisis of confidence (oh, is that just me?), and post your interpretation of the prompt.
Tag your post #IneffablePromptAThon, #IneffablePAT #Ineffable Prompt-A-Thon, and/or #IPAT. Make sure to use them on Tumblr, X, IG, and AO3 so everyone can easily find your works!
Also tag your posts and AO3 with the Week Number and the Prompt, so we can all tell which prompt your creation accompanies.
Tag me @ineffablyruined in all of your posts, too, so I can reblog!
Add your contribution to the Ineffable Prompt-A-Thon collection on AO3 for this week. Link is below!
Look for the next prompt. Rinse. Repeat.
HAVE FUN!
This is meant to be zero stress. If you can't do a week, that's completely fine! Prompt not working for you? Skip it. Going to be late? No worries at all!
It is just meant to be a fun outlet to get your creative juices flowing and keep the fandom well-fed with copious amounts of fic and fun until our Ineffable Duo makes their return to our screens (whenever that may be).
There is no length requirement, no rating requirement, no timeline requirement. It can be canon-compliant, AU, crossover, whatever tickles your fancy, as long as it's Good Omens related and incorporates the prompt. It's all Tickety-Boo!
If you want to be tagged in the posts, let me know!
SHOUTOUT to @interesting-egg who takes my inability to make decisions in stride and helps me pick which of my pile of prompts to use for the week.
Link to this week's collection:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
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"were you scratched or bitten?"/"scratched? bitten? no, i was created"
eddie wasn't always like this, a beast hiding under the visage of healer.
his time in the army changed him, in more ways than one.
despite being just a medic, eddie was given the chance to be a part of a program. a super soldier program that he would be paid for, no matter the outcome. if it went well he recieved a decent paycheck, if he died, or worse, a hefty compensation was sent to his family.
well, he survived, and it had worked. but now his animalistic instincts were harder to control, his body would react to his emotions -- becoming a slave to his flight or fight response.
but now that he was out of the military, trying to fit back into civilian and life working for LAFD, he had to learn how to keep it stable. keep the beast tame when he thought back to that awful helicopter crash.
his son is a huge help, one of his tethers to his humanity. and now he's found you, the moon in his sky, the one that isn't scared of the monster that man created.
