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misshugs · 2 days

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Desperate || snc

[req by @venusisaligned ] Another investigation, another scary night... well, maybe not so scary after all. They just can't seem to stop teasing you.

contains: SMUT +18, oral (m&w), cursing, pet names and all the good stuff

word count: 2.5k

[u n e d i t e d]

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"So this is the place?" You ask, looking at the Victorian-Styled house right infront of you. "Doesn't look half bad for like a 500 year old house."

"It looks great, right?" Sam smiled at you, opening up the door to the place. "Tour guide already told me where the key was so we can have a look before they get here."

"So we're having the place to ourselves for a couple of minutes?" Colby asked, walking inside after you.

"Yep, what do you guys wanna do?" Sam asked, closing the door.

"Well, we can do a lot of things in just a few minutes." Colby smirked while looking at you, making you chuckle.

"Ouf, don't threaten me with a good time." You answered to his obvious question.

"I never said anything, you dirty mind filled in the blanks."

"And how did you know I was thinking about that?" You raised a brow, leading him to think about it.

"Touché. You got me there." He laughed. "But hey. It really is an option. Just sayin'."

"You're hearing this guy right now?" You look at Sam while pointing at Colby, making them both smile.

"I mean, he does have a point..." Sam crept just a slight bit closer to you, making your heart skip a beat for a second, his intentions unsure, yet clear.

"Ah, you see? I'm not the only one." Colby proudly spoke up, making you roll your eyes.

"Oh, shut up."

"Make me." He quickly responded, gaining a giddy smile from him.

"I'll make you shut up alright." You said, your tone quickly shifting to a more flirtatious one, turning a switch on their system.

As you were slowly walking closer to Colby, Sam getting ready to join quickly after, a sound made you stop in the midst of cupping Colby's face on your hands and his hands quickly finding their way to your waist.

A knock.

"Hello?" Someone from outside asked. The tourguide.

You pouted, sighing as you separated from Colby's embrace. "Way to ruin the mood. Thought we had more time." You whispered, looking at Sam who was clearly bit annoyed by the timing.

"I did say minutes. Sorry." He apologized while quickly walking towards the door.

It gave Colby some time to grab your wrist and hold you closer, quickly giving you a peck on the lips. "Might be leaving me hanging now, but this isn't over." He whispered in your ear.

"Oh, I know." You smirked, walking towards the newly arrived people.

The tour wasn't long. The house had quite a few rooms, but most of them weren't really as interesting as the two main ones, where most of the activity was.

You were hugging yourself while listening to the guide talk about the story of the place and the people that have misteriously died.

"It is said that she killed herself, but there are speculations that say she was killed in her room while she was sleeping. Nothing quite confirmed, though. Since every time someone tries to talk to her she seems to avoid the topic."

"But she's able to answer any other question?" Colby asked the guide, gaining his attention for the meantime.

Leading him to not see Sam's hand slowly caressing your lower back, putting his hand underneath your shirt without anybody noticing.

You didn't respond to his touch to let him play it off, but your heart was palpitating at a higher rate the moment you felt his touch on your skin. You gulped, barely listening to the story as you kept on dozing off due to your attention being kept on... other things.

Although your vision was kept on Colby and the guide, your mind was vividly thinking, and feeling, Sam's touch. How he slowly descended his fingers to the waistband of your panties, softly playing with them before you could feel his hands getting deeper into your pants.

His hand holding onto one of your soft cheeks, squeezing them, making you sigh at the feeling. You looked up at him slightly. He seemed concentrated in the story, unlike you. If it weren't for the fact that you could no longer think straight due to your sex quickly heating up, you'd think he was just extremely curious about the story.

It would've been the case for anyone else looking at him.

Before his fingers could descend closer to where you needed him to be, he pulled away. Putting his hand on your shoulder, he answered a question the guide had asked him.

Looking at him, you almost wanted to whine about losing his touch, but you couldn't. There were others around, you couldn't.

And that's what made it worse. Or better. You could feel the adrenaline, your heat quickly turning sticky and getting caught on your underwear due to the sudden dampness.

Quickly, the questions were over and so was the tour.

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It was almost 12 in the morning, you guys were back from a lunch break whilst waiting for it to get late. The house in the daylight didn't seem too scary. In fact, it actually seemed quite vivid and beautiful.

But you couldn't say the same about it at nighttime. It was frightening, it had a different vibe to it that you just couldn't put your finger on.

Almost as if it were alive, but not in a good way like before. It felt as if it was desperately trying to pull you in, only for you to never walk back out.

Your easy going nature almost jumped out of the window when you walked inside. It felt cold, dead.

How ironic.

"Wow, it really does feel different at night." You said, remembering some of the few words you could remember the guide telling you about. This was... normal.

"It really does... it makes it spookier." Sam smirked. "Hopefully we get some good activity tonight." He gave you a quick glimpse before walking around.

As they began recording and walking around with you, your instinct cracked through and you held onto Colby's arm for some feeling of protection, which he didn't argue about.

"Alright, I think it's time to get the equipment, I'll be right back." Sam gestured to the outside, walking away.

Colby, on the other hand, didn't waste a second to get his hands on you. Quickly pinning you towards a wall, his lips interlocked with yours. A slow, wet and messy kiss.

His leg finding its way in the middle of yours, inducing pressure on your heat, letting out a moan that was drowned by the makeout session.

A hand slowly descended towards your hip, his thumb making circles around the slit where your skin was visible. When the both of you pulled away from the kiss, he didn't waste any time and slid his hand inside your pants and right in between your legs, touching your clothed cunt and making you whine in response.

"Such a tease you are. You're already wet for me, for us." He whispered in your ear, making circles on your clit. You panted at the feeling, your legs almost giving up.

"Colby..." You sighed.

"Desperate already? I can feel it." He kissed your burning cheek, giving you even more pressure with a mere finger.

If this is how one of his fingers made you feel, imagine everything else.

"Alright," You could hear Sam coming back, which made Colby smirk and pull away from you, making you whine at the sudden loss of touch. "Here's everything."

"Then let us begin, brother." Colby said, walking away from you. Sighing, you followed close behind.

It was absurd, you could simply fuck right there without an issue, but they knew you liked this. They knew you loved to be teased, to be on the edge at all times.

And they were right, you fucking loved it.

And it went like that for the whole night. Not even when the both of them were in the room you were... 'safe'. One of them was always closer to you than the other, therefore, more chances of him to touch you softly without the other noticing.

Or, at least, that's what you though. Both of them knew what they were doing alright, but they were acting as oblivious as possible to make it more entertaining.

It was going to be a bit complicated to edit out, though.

Whenever they started using some sort of method to communicate, they started to get touchy with you in the most discrete way possible.

Even whilst asking questions while doing the estes method. Somehow, they always seemed to find a way of holding you closer, getting more intimate without the camera on strict view of you.

A whole hour of teasing passed and you just couldn't handle it anymore. When Sam walked out of one of the main rooms, you held onto Colby's hand and got him closer to you, kissing him once again like before.

He smiled in the middle of the kiss, holding you by the hips while you cupped his face. Stepping away from the kiss, he chuckled.

"Babe, we need to keep going."

"Oh, fuck the investigation. I can't hold it anymore Colby, please." You whined, desperation on your words. "I need you."

He couldn't help but smile brighter. "You don't know how much I've been waiting for you to say that." He whispered before holding you up to walk you towards the bed.

He hurriedly got to taking off your shirt, trying not to separate his lips from you as much as he could. Kissing your neck whilst taking off your bralet, you tried to take off his shirt, successfully throwing it away.

Going back to your lips, his rough kisses were as desperate as you were. You grabbed the back of his neck, intensifying it and playing with his hair. You could feel his hands on your waistband, quickly pulling down your pants and leaving you with the last piece of clothing that was covering your cunt.

Before he could even remove it, you heard a noise, a knock. The both of you looked at the door, at Sam. He was with his hands crossed across his chest and his body resting on the door.

"So we're finally doing it?" He raised a brow and walked in looking at the both of you.

"Finally?" You panted, still with a shaky breath and looking at him confused.

"Yeah, well, when I said 'activity' I didn't just mean paranormal. We're not that oblivious as to what both of us were doing all this time, sweetheart." He responded, holding onto your cheek and kissing you softly. "I just wasn't expecting it to be so soon."

"She got desperate." Colby said, which made Sam chuckle.

"As always. Can't handle some teasing, hm?"

"Just... just... please." You begged, already feeling drunk by their mere touch.

"Please what, baby?" He asked, crawling on top of the bed. Colby made you lie on your chest, giving you a slap on the ass when he got the oportunity, making you whine.

"Please, take it off..." You mewled, feeling another slap before moving your hand towards his crotch.

"Then pull it out if you need it so badly, sweetheart." Colby whispered in your ear, biting it slightly. You could feel his fingers rubbing against your aching cunt, slowly pressing against the fabric.

You gulped and did as told, holding onto Sam's pants and taking off his belt, unzipping his pants. Your panties were slowly being pulled down while you kept on paying attention to the bulge underneath Sam's pants.

On the other hand, Colby's eyes darkened at the view he was receiving. Your dripping wet cunt made his own mouth water. He held onto your ass cheeks tightly before moving his thumbs towards your lips and spreading them apart.

Such a lewd site to admire. Licking his lips, he got on his knees and gave you a long, wet, lick. A moan escaped your lips, gripping onto the clothed dick you were rubbing against your palm, making him grunt a soft "Fuck."

Your legs shuddered at the feeling of his tongue against your heat. It almost made you lose consciousness right there due to your neediness.

"Come on, love. Don't leave me hanging." Sam snapped you from your dream world. You obliged, taking out his growing friend and admiring the view, trying to surpress some moans before holding his length and stroaking it a few times with the precum that was already dripping from his tip.

It made him sigh in response, touching your hair and softly caressing it in the meanwhile. "That's it. Mh." He bit his lower lip while looking at your panting face. Colby, on the other hand, started sucking aggressively. Thrusting his tongue deep inside of you, touching as much as he could.

Moaning whilst savouring your taste, trying to memorize every single inch of you with his tongue. It made you moan in response, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Trying not to wait any longer, you put Sam's dick inside of your warm mouth. Sucking onto his tip, trying to regain a bit of the consciousness You've been seemingly getting away from.

Bobbing your head up and down his length, you couldn't help but moan around it, giving him vibrations that made him see the stars for a few seconds. He helped you out, pushing himself deeper inside of you, almost making you gag at how filled your mouth was.

A few tears falling from your eyes while the pleasure from both sides was noticeable. You could feel the quick knot on your stomach unravelling, making you unconsciously close your legs around Colby's face, only for him to slap your ass one more time, making you moan once again.

It didn't take long until you released yourself. Him, helping you ride out your orgasm while Sam started thrusting harder against your throat, releasing himself inside it. Pulling away, he smirked at the face you were making. He couldn't hold himself, switching you around so that you could look at Colby.

"Look at this pretty little face, so needy for us." Sam said, cleaning a bit of his cum that was dripping out of your mouth. You gulped it down while looking at Colby's smile. Before he could even respond, you all heard a beep.

It was a REM-POD.

"Almost forgot this was a haunted house." Colby chuckled and stood up. It seems he fisted himself whilst he was busy eating you up. "So, let's continue that video, shall we? We definitely gave the ghosts a show just now." He laughed and fixed himself. As you looked at him confused, Sam stood up and fixed his pants as well.

You were in disbelief. Were they really going to just continue on like that?

"I'm sorry, but... fuck the video." You said, trying to regain your breath before completely sitting down. "Come here and fuck me instead."

Needless to say, you guys weren't able to finish the video.

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sorry that it took me a while (i had writers block for a while) but i finally found a good concept to go with to make it more interesting! hope you like it!

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated <3

~nikkõ

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jewishrat420 · 3 months

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No one has ever flirted with Steve the way Eddie flirts with Steve.

And it's not like no one flirts with Steve. God, no, it's not like no one flirts with Steve. Steve can't walk into the grocery store without at least three sets of heads turning and focusing all their attention on him.

And he's not even trying to be cocky about it. That's just the reality he was gifted when he came out of his mother's womb looking like the world's freshest Adonis. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they changed the colloquialism to "Steve."

Regardless. For as many people like to flirt with him, make themselves known, filtering in and out of his orbit like willing planets, no one knows quite how to get him going like Eddie. Maybe it's that they're not as confident as he is, maybe they're scared of the rejection Eddie was born facing and will die knowing.

Maybe they're scared of ruining their chances. Maybe Eddie isn't.

For whatever reason, Eddie doesn't seem like he's scared. Even though there was a long time before he knew Steve was bi, was just as into the flirting as Eddie was, even though there was a chance (not like it'd ever happen, but the unknown was there) that Steve could have beaten him up just for calling him "sweetheart," he did it anyway. He got right up into Steve's space, close enough that Steve could get high off the remnants of the joint he'd smoked earlier, and gave him a look that offered everything.

And, God, Steve wanted it. He wanted it all.

And so that began months of what Steve has so aptly referred to as torture. Apt, because he knows what it's like. He has the scars and the fear of ice cream and needles to prove it.

But this... this is a different kind of torture. Mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever you call it-- this is meant to tear him apart from the inside out, meant to make him want to rip his own bones out from his body and offer them to Eddie if it meant the other man making a fucking move.

And Steve would, is the thing. He would absolutely make the first move-- it's what he usually does, anyway, and he's got a pretty damn good success rate for it.

But, for whatever reason, this feels different. This back and forth they have, the constant teasing, the sliding in and out of each other's orbits, unable and unwilling to refute the most fundamental laws of gravity... it's something special, at least to Steve. Something sacred.

Which is why, when Eddie calls Steve "Harrington" for the first time in months, his first response is to pout.

They're about halfway through splitting a joint, the sweet smoke curling around wisps of hair and parted lips and filtering in and out of the holes in their sweaters. The air outside is getting colder, thinner, sharper, as the winter months dreg on. But inside the trailer, it's comfortable and warm. Safe.

Steve's being a bit of a hog, and he's man enough to admit that. But he had a shitty day at work and all he wants is to feel nothing other than the weightless relaxation of a good high buzzing through his bones. Sue him for taking a little more than his fair share of the good stuff, even if it is Eddie's.

"Steve," Eddie whines, reaching his hand out and curling his fingers in request. "Give it over."

"No," Steve responds, just on the edge of whiny. He brings the joint to his lips and takes a long, slow, deep drag, feeling the sweet heat of the smoke burning in his lungs, taking up the space where oxygen should be. He goes a little dizzy with it, feels his eyes lower. "Mine."

Steve can't see it, but he knows Eddie's rolling his eyes. Can sense the shift in the air, can sense every little fucking thing about Eddie at any given moment.

"C'mon, Harrington, you're being a brat."

And, normally, Steve would find another aspect of that sentence to freak out about. Would zero in on the word brat and relish in the flare of heat it sends shooting up his spine like firework sparks. Would squint his eyes at Eddie and tilt his head in the way he knows makes him look good, would give him his cutest little smirk and say, "Who, me?" and would preen in the response it gets.

This time, though, he's much too focused on the other name Eddie used for him. The one he hasn't heard come out of Eddie's mouth since before he realized that Steve was, as he put it, "actually a good dude."

He doesn't realize he's pouting until the sudden silence in the room starts to creep in, make a home in the buzzing in his ears. He didn't realize that he didn't say anything, and neither did Eddie, and now they're sitting in a mess of their own making. Of Eddie's own making, really.

His next words come out without effort, without intent.

"Don't call me that."

He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally.

"Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?"

Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie kind of softens, then, and Steve didn't realize he had stiffened until he isn't anymore. He sort of sinks into the couch, spreads his legs imperceptibly wider, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way his left knee brushes against Steve's just barely. Just enough for those heated sparks to send a couple pinpricks across his skin.

"No?" he says, looking over to meet Steve's gaze. His cheeks are flushed, whether from the weed or the heat of the room or the heat between them, and Steve's sure that his look the same. "What do you want me to call you, then?"

Steve's definitely blushing now. He looks away from Eddie, tucks his chin to his chest, lets the joint between his fingers burn away. Eddie takes it from him, gently, and brings it to his lips. Steve hears the paper crackling as he inhales.

His voice is quiet, almost meek, when he speaks. It's completely unlike Steve, completely unlike the persona he used to so proudly take on-- but then again, Eddie is completely unlike anyone that Steve has ever met. He's more real, more human, and in turn, Steve is too.

"...You know."

Eddie makes a little noise, then, something in the back of his throat that was born and died within the very same second it was released. Something soft, almost pained, like his body couldn't help the reaction it had to that sentence.

Steve watches the thin, long line of Eddie's arm reach forward and press the joint into the glass of the ashtray. He follows the motion until Eddie's hand settles into the rips over his knee, fingers intertwining with the thread. His pinkie is dangerously close to Steve's own sweatpant-covered skin, and he feels the contact as if Eddie were touching him.

Eddie's hand twitches like it wants to move, and Steve resists the urge to grab it, hold it within the warmth of his own palms.

"Do I?" Eddie says, his voice quieter than it was a moment ago. That thick silence fills the trailer once more, settling in between the soft buzzing of the lightbulb in the kitchen and the muffled humming of the crickets outside. Steve hears Eddie take a stuttering breath. "Tell me."

Steve sighs, feeling his chest burn as his heartbeat picks up. His throat pounds with the pulsing of it. He places his own hand on his right knee, pinkie finger edging closer and closer to the space where Eddie's meets his. Eddie's hand twitches again.

"Like it when you call me sweet things," he says on an exhale, as though getting it out all in one breath would make it easier. "Like how it makes me feel."

Eddie lets out another one of those noises, then, something more like a cut-off groan. His hand curls into the fabric of his jeans for no more than a second before he releases it, and Steve gets to watch as the blood blanches and then returns to his knuckles.

"Sweet things, huh?" he muses, voice only slightly strained. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie is nervous. "Like... Stevie?"

Steve hums. "Yeah. I like that."

Eddie's pinkie moves closer. Barely. Imperceptibly, if not for the way Steve is tuned into his every movement, like a dog to the sound of their owner's keys.

"Yeah?"

Steve hums again.

"What about... sweetheart?"

Steve closes his eyes. Lets out a shaky breath, inhales a smoother one.

"Yeah."

Steve feels something brush against his pinkie. Something warm.

"Honey?"

Steve nods, biting his lip. "Mhm."

Eddie lets out a quiet little laugh. "Even big boy?"

Steve returns it helplessly, feels the edges of a smile pulling at his lips. The air feels cold on his teeth, as though he's burning up from the inside out and anything outside of his own body is a cooling salve.

"Especially big boy."

Eddie laughs a little louder, and the jostling of his body brings his pinkie even closer to Steve's. Completely pressed against his own, now.

Steve swears he can feel his heartbeat through it. Or maybe it's his own.

"What about..." Eddie takes a breath. "Love?"

Steve's own breath hitches. He opens his eyes, looks at where their skin is touching in more than one place. He feels it, feels every point of contact where the cells that make Eddie are existing with the cells that make Steve. Wonders, maybe, if they stay here long enough, if they'll merge and mold over time. Become one.

"Yeah," Steve breathes. "I like that one a lot."

Eddie hums, and the room falls back into silence for a moment. Steve's skin burns where their fingers are touching. He moves his hand to the right, just barely, just enough to let Eddie know that he feels it. Just enough to ask Eddie if he does, too.

His response is overwhelming.

Eddie moves his hand to the left, solidifies all the points of contact between them, and Steve feels like he's exploding. Feels like a bubbling pit of lava that's set to burst, to overflow, like it can't hold back anymore. Like it's tried for so long that it's hurting, now, pressurized and boiling and hot, way too fucking hot.

And then, Eddie crosses his pinkie over Steve's, and Steve thinks he's dying.

He takes in a sharp breath like it's the last one he'll ever get, and he doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it. He knows Eddie is right there with him, knows he's not the only one feeling this irrefutable pull like gravity between them. Knows, hopes, it's only a matter of time before they collide.

Eddie hums again. He taps his pinkie once over the smallest of Steve's knuckles, almost like he's making a decision. He takes a long, slow breath before he speaks.

"You know which one's my favorite?"

Steve's throat clicks. "Which?"

"Look at me."

Steve turns his head to the right for no more than a second before Eddie's lips are on his.

It's hungry, it's indulgent, it's immediately addictive. It feels like breathing.

Eddie presses his whole body against Steve's, and he can feel the way his tendons flex where his hand is covering the back of Steve's. Where their pinkies meet, their fingers intertwine and cross over one another like the roots of a tree, their bodies the whole mycorrhizal network.

The next word is spoken against Steve's lips, and Steve can feel the way his mouth forms around it. Decides, from this moment on, that he never wants to hear it another way.

"Baby."

Steve's exhale is more of a moan, a dying sound that, like Eddie's before, lived for only a moment in his throat before pushing through the wall of his lips. Eddie takes it, holds it in his own mouth, swallows it down hungrily and slides his tongue against Steve's as though asking for more.

"That's--" Steve pants, getting his hands on Eddie's hips and pulling until he's seated in his lap. "Mine too."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his lips still pressed against Steve's. Their words are muffled against each other, but they don't need to hear them to understand. They only need to feel the outline of them, the shape of the consonants and vowels against and around each other's tongues. They only need to press their bodies together and know, intimately, the meaning in each other's hearts.

"Yeah. Want you to call me that forever."

This time, Steve feels Eddie's laughter against his lips. His chest. Feels it bubble up in the space between his ribs, feels it flow into his mouth like a river, swallows it down like the first glass of water after a run. Feels his own creep up behind his teeth in return, gives it back to Eddie like an offering, who takes it greedily. Hungrily. Gratefully.

"Think that can be arranged, baby."