#Josh is just fucking with us now👁️👁️

[wildbluesorbit]

What the hell is this, Joshua Michael?!

[wakandas-vibranium]

Not a Virgin

-- Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

-- Warning(s): 18+ minors DNI 👁️ smutty smut, age gap(legal), kissing, swearing, teasing, dirty talk, oral/fingering(v receiving) unprotected p in v sex, creampie, slight dom!joel if you squint, praise kink, you like it rough and of course Joel obliges.

-- Word Count: 3.7k

-- Summary: You are on your usual afternoon patrol in Jackson with your usual group and the guys your age won’t stop questioning your nonexistent sex life. 

-- A/N: Sorry, no beta reader(nobody likes me on this app) There shouldn’t be too many mistakes though. Please like, comment and reblog!

You’ve been in Jackson for a little over three years now and you were grateful. The outbreak turned your life upside down and seemed determined to take everything and everyone you loved. 

You were surprised to not only find a new home in Jackson but also a new found family you’ve grown to care deeply for. You got close to Maria quickly because she reminded you of your mom’s sister. She was the spitting image of your Auntie Giselle. Maria was kind enough to help you keep your locs in tip top shape. She was very sweet, but also a very firm when needed. 

You weren’t super close with the hundreds of people here in Jackson, but a good 20 or so had your back and they knew without a doubt that you had theirs. 

You were currently on your afternoon patrol with your usual group: You, Felicia, Melvin, Josh, and Joel. Your group patrolled the gate entrance Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays from 2pm to 8pm. 

It was a quarter to 7pm and you were ready for this patrol shift to be over. Not only because you were starving, but also because Josh wouldn’t shut the fuck up. As per usual, but today you were more miffed because you were hungry. Hangry. 

“I’m not a virgin, Josh. I just haven’t gotten any in 4 years.” You reluctantly explained to the taller man. 

Melvin and Felicia made taunting noises of pity and you rolled your eyes at them. Not everyone was as lucky as them to fuck like rabbits every chance they got. Joel of course didn’t say anything, but you could tell he was listening. His shoulders straightened and his grip on the gun loosened. Definitely a dead giveaway. 

“Well, don’t you miss orgasms?”

“Of course I do.” You huffed. 

“Damn, why so long then?”

“Because my husband died 4 years ago, you nosey asshole and I haven’t found anyone interesting enough to let fuck me.” 

“Well, no need to look any further, Y/N. I’m right here.” Josh boasted, holding up his hands as he did a full spin. 

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, waving off his no game having ass, “I want a real man, Josh. Not you.” 

Josh had been in Jackson almost two years now and he’s been a real gigantic pain in everyone’s ass, but he’s still family. Sort of. Yes, he was young and his bronze skin was gorgeous, but his impulsivity on patrols and all around arrogance was a major turn off. 

Plus, you fancied older guys with brown eyes anyway. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m 31 just like you. If that ain’t grown then I don’t know what is.” 

“Well, maybe she’s into more mature dudes.” Melvin pointed out. You grinned at him and nodded in thanks. He was one of the few men your age who used his brain every now and then. 

“Well, how old was your husband?” Josh continued to prod. 

Felicia rolled their eyes at Josh’s invasiveness. He’d always intrude carelessly but it was still annoying. 

“My husband was 10 years older than me, but there’s more to being a real man than age, Josh.” 

“Like how?”

“Well, my husband took his time to learn my body. He was the type of man to make sure I finished twice before he did. Does that sound like you?”

“Hell yeah it does.” He lied right through his crooked teeth.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” You disagreed, “Cause from what I’ve heard, you cum after four pumps and all that tells me is that you’d be a waste of a fuck.” 

Melvin and Felicia snickered loudly while Joel at least attempted to hide his chuckle with a cough. Josh flushed as he stood there in embarrassment. 

Good. 

He talked too damn much. He should’ve just stood there and shut the hell up like the rest of y’all who were on patrol did.

Josh frowned at Joel as he noticed the older man covering his grin, “And just what the hell are you laughing at old man? You’re so scary nobody here wants to fuck ya.” 

“That’s not true.” Felicia laughed as they shook their pointer finger. 

“Definitely not true.” You chimed in, laughing even harder at Josh’s horrified face when Melvin nodded in agreement. 

“So, what?” Josh huffed, gesturing wildly to where Joel was perched, “You won’t fuck me, but you’ll fuck Miller? Are you serious?” 

“I’m sure Miller can last more than four pumps, so yeah...” You shrugged. 

Joel still didn’t utter a word, but he raised a curious eyebrow at you, no longer covering his knowing smirk. You shot him a soft smile before turning back to Josh’s aggravating ass. 

You had a thing for Joel that you refused to let be known. The older Miller was a mystery and simultaneously he reminded you of your late husband. You knew getting involved with Joel wasn’t a good road to go down for several reasons. However, there was a tiny voice in the back of your head and a deep ache between your legs that wanted you to push that big red, Joel Miller button and have as much fun as you could. 

“8pm switch!” Tommy called from the ground. 

Thank all the beings in the world for Tommy. You couldn’t hear any more comparisons from Josh or you were going to toss his giant ass over the railing. 

It was dinner time. 

Your patrol group usually ate dinner together for about an hour or so. 

Today was Wednesday which meant Joel stayed later because Ellie was spending the night at Dina’s. There’s no particular reason why you knew this information. You just did. 

Tonight they were serving stewed beef and potatoes. One of your favorites. You all prepared your plates and grabbed a half bottle of whiskey before sitting down at your usual table.

Josh moved to sit down next to you, but Felicia and Melvin swung their feet under the table and slammed them down next to you, making it impossible for Josh to sit down.

“Sorry Joshy,” Felicia started, “This table is for people who don’t cum quick.” 

You and Joel choked on a piece of meat and you refused to look up at Josh. Cause if you did you’d lose it.

Joel would never admit it, but he looked forward to patrols with your group and dinner. He was grateful to spend time with people other than his brother and surrogate daughter. 

A few months ago he started paying attention to the heated looks you’d give him when you thought he wasn’t looking. Still, he wasn’t gonna say anything. 

“I don’t cum in four pumps,” Josh growled. 

“Well, three pumps then.” Melvin shouted. 

You took a sip of your whiskey to refrain from making a guffawing noise. 

Josh shook his head and stormed off, “Fine. I’ll just eat outside you fuckers.” 

Dinner went very nice that evening. Everyone was more relaxed and in a good mood. Melvin started asking about your husband and you could tell Felicia thought it made you uncomfortable, but it really didn’t. You were glad to have friends to talk about your late husband with now. 

“Did y’all have any kids?” Melvin asked as he stabbed his last potato and shoved it into his mouth. 

“Nah, we didn’t really want kids. Plus I was born without a uterus so…” You trailed off awkwardly. 

You chanced a quick glance at Joel to see if he was listening and you jerked slightly when his intense eyes met yours. 

Fuck. Real smooth, Y/N. Real smooth. 

“What about you two? You gestured toward the energetic couple and grinned at them, “You two fuck so much I’m surprised Fel’s not already pregnant.” 

“My pull out game is strong.” Melvin grinned back at you. You held out your fist for him to bump and laughed softly when he did. 

“Was it Infected that killed your husband?” 

“Melvin!” Felicia admonished as they slapped their partner’s arm.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured, “I’m at a place where I can talk about him now.” 

“Are you sure?” Felicia asked.

You nodded at them as you gave a small smile. 

“My husband and I were headed to a QZ in Atlanta. Things were going pretty well until a bomb went off 10 steps in front of us. I was a few paces behind him so he took most of the damage.” 

“Fireflies?” Joel asked as he sat forward, leaning his arms against the table.

You looked at him and nodded, “Fuckin’ fireflies, man.” 

“Marlene loves her fuckin’ bombs.” Felicia grunted.

Felicia and Melvin left a little before nine, leaving you and Joel there. Joel didn’t say much, but it was clear he enjoyed listening to you talk. It was a little after nine and you were ready to head home so you could masturbate, shower and go to bed. 

“I killed her.” Joel whispered as he leaned closer to you across the table.

“Who?” You whispered back as you peered into his intense brown eyes. 

“Marlene.” 

“H-how?” 

“I shot her twice.”

You don’t know if it was the one shot of whiskey, a full belly or if it was the sheer knowledge of Joel bringing justice to your husband’s killer, but you started giggling. 

Joel’s dark eyes widened in surprise and he only began to chuckle once you let out a full blown cackle. You both quieted your sounds as you received weird looks from some of the kitchen staff. You motioned for him to scoot closer so he would hear your breathless question. 

“Did she beg for her life?” You asked before bringing your half empty glass of water to your lips. 

“A bit.” Joel admitted as he shrugged nonchalantly. 

Your whole face lit us as you choked on your water, bursting into giggles again. It was the way he said it and how he tried to stop the corners of his lips from turning up, but you caught it. Joel let out a full blown belly laugh. It almost sounded like it hurt him to laugh. You wondered how long it’s been since he’s allowed himself to laugh like that. 

He should laugh more often. He had a dazzling smile and dimples that were partially hidden by his beard.

“You have a heart stopping smile Joel. You should smile more.” You reached out your hand and traced the outline of his lips. 

“I like your hair.” He complimented as he traced one of your locs, squeezing it curiously between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“Oh?” You beamed at him. Unable to stop your body from getting warm at the slightest touch from him. 

“Yeah it’s kind of like Maria’s but a little longer.” 

“You can pull on it while you fuck me from behind back at my place.” You propositioned.

Joel stood up as he gathered your trays and cups to throw away, “After you.” He gestured to the dining hall exit. 

Luckily, your house was not far from the dining hall. It was surely closer than Joel's. Joel picked you up as soon as you opened the door. You let out a shriek and wrapped your legs around his waist. You kissed him hungrily as he walked through the doorway, into the kitchen, and sat you on the counter. You nearly forgot he came over before to repair a few broken windows, which explains why he was so familiar with your house.

“Joel?”

“Yeah?” He breathed as he unbuttoned your yellow top. 

“You should shut and lock the door.” He took one look at the wide open front door before looking back at you with crimson cheeks. 

While he moved to close the door, you finished taking off your shirt and jeans. When he returned to the kitchen, you were still there where he left you, but only in your bra and underwear. You bit your bottom lip in response to him gawking at you and the erection in his blue jeans.

Once he was within arm's reach of you, you pushed two fingers behind his leather belt and pulled him in between your legs. 

You made quick use of unbuttoning the blue jean sweater he had on and once you had access to his full neck you licked a wide stripe before sucking a mark there. 

“Oh,” He murmured softly, “You like leaving a mark, huh?”

“Mhm, you’re mine.” 

“Damn right.” 

“Take me to my bed, please.”

“Your room’s still down the hall, right?”

“Yes.” You nodded. 

He picked you up and took slow steps towards your bedroom. Once you made it in your room he kicked the door shut before plopping you down onto your surprisingly comfortable mattress. You still haven’t gotten used to its fluffiness. 

Joel uncinched your bra and flung it across the room. He kissed your breast tenderly while placing his palms on either side of you, boxing you in. 

He leaned back to admire the wetness between your spread legs and let out a groan as he palmed himself through his pants. You were soaking wet.

“Goddamn you’re wet.” 

“All for you.” You hummed happily as he helped you out of your underwear. 

He leaned down on his forearms, big hands resting on top of your lower abdomen, licking a warm stripe up your wet slit. You jerked slightly in anticipation of the touch. It had been a long time since you had been handled in this way. You were almost positive that you were going cum within minutes. 

“You don’t have to finger me, you know?”

“Hmm? You don’t like being fingered?”

“No, I love it actually. It’s just that…when you finally slide your dick into me…”

“Yes?” He urged as he added a second finger and began to suck on your clit. 

“I like it to hurt a little bit.” You rushed out, biting back an obscene moan. 

“Naughty girl,” Joel quipped, adding a third finger, “I’m still gonna finger you a bit. I’m on the larger side.” 

“Oooh baby,” You let the pet name slip, moaning loudly, “I mean Joel—fuck!”

“No, you had it right the first time.” Joel chuckled, hooking his thick fingers upward and twisting them at a much faster pace. 

“Shit it feels so good.” You panted as he kissed your soft inner thighs gently. The complete opposite of what his fingers were doing. 

“Joel, I’m cu—“

“—I know, baby. I can feel it. Cum for me. I need you nice and wet for the good ole poundin’ I’m about to give you.” His filthy words, coupled with the sensual inflection in his voice, were enough to drive you home, your moans growing louder as he talked you through the best orgasm you'd had in years.

As you writhed against the bed, your fingers pulled at his soft silver-streaked brown waves. You couldn't decide whether you fancied his mouth or his fingers more. Either way, 10s across the board.

Joel backed up to remove his pants and underwear before settling both his knees on the bed. His hungry, chestnut eyes bore into yours as he jerked himself slowly in one hand. He smirked as your gaze drifted to his hard dick, mouth watering at the enticing sight. You ran your tongue across your bottom lip in anticipation. You wanted to taste him so bad. 

“Don’t get too excited. We’re savin’ that for another time,” He said as he motioned for you to turn around, “Hands and knees.” 

Once you assumed the position, Joel pulled you back against his hips to line his thick cock up with your entrance. In one swift motion, Joel was fully seated inside you. He stretched you pretty good with his fingers and you were soaked, but it still pierced a bit as you adjusted to him. It was that good kind of hurt that you missed. Joel had to be seven or eight inches in length, but his girth was astounding. 

You guess your luck was finally starting to come back around. 

You were already losing your mind, and he had only just slid inside you. You knew you weren't going to last. Joel pulled all the way out and slammed back inside, moving you higher up the bed. He thrusted a third and fourth time, and that tight coil in your stomach snapped. Your orgasm caught you both off guard. You had no choice but to lean forward into the pillow and scream as your thighs shook violently.

You came as hard and as loud as you wanted. Sleeping neighbors be damned. You'd been holding on to it for four long ass years. The orgasm was more than pleasant, but you knew the older man had more in mind for you.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. I guess you’re giving Josh a run for his money, huh?” Joel teased as he gently rubbed your thick quivering thighs. 

If the circumstances were different, the utter surprise in Joel's voice would have made you snort. You were too busy cumming your brains out and sinking your teeth into the pillow to find any amusement at the time being.

“You good to go or do you need a minute?” He asked, smug as ever. Your head was still buried in the pillow, but you could hear the smugness in his voice clear as day. 

You lifted your head and cast a smoldering glance over your shoulder at him, “Shut up and fuck me.” 

“Yes ma’am,” He smirked as he lined himself up again and sank in until he bottomed out. 

“Ugh,” He grunted, “The way you wrap around me is gonna be a problem.” 

You giggled at the peculiar way he told you your pussy was tight as fuck. You rocked back into his slow thrusts, finding a flawless rhythm.

“Jo—Joel! Shit, you fuck me so good.” You whined as you reached under your thighs and played with his balls. 

“Goddamnit!” Joel cursed as his thrusts faltered just a tad. 

“You’re doing so good for me, baby. Takin’ every single inch I give you.” He praised, angling his hips before starting up at a merciless pace. 

Goddamn.

This man knew just what to say to get you over that fucking edge. 

The lack of a full-body mirror in your bedroom was bittersweet. You knew Joel must have looked downright mouth watering while he drilled into you from behind. You were also mindful that your eyes had rolled into the back of your head and that you were an incoherent slobbering mess.

Joel gathered as many of your medium locs as he could in one hand and yanked them back while his other hand gripped your waist and his hips brutally slapped against your soft, round ass.

The entire fucking room sounded like mouse traps going off.

“Fuuuck,” You cried out, eyes shutting tightly, “I can’t believe I’m cummin’ again.” 

“That’s alright,” he encouraged, letting out a low, guttural groan as he felt your walls clench around him once again, “Give it to me.” 

As you came, he landed two hard slaps on your bouncing asscheeks. Your mouth fell open in a silent O. You didn’t even realize that you were trembling, but Joel sure as hell did. You couldn’t remember ever feeling so blissed out like this. Has it really been that long? Or have you just never had this level of sex? Something to ponder about in the morning. 

Joel trailed steamy kisses down your sweat glistened back, scraping a fingernail down the back of your thigh as you rode out your consuming climax. 

He flipped you on your back in one hasty motion, tapping your sensitive clit with his swollen tip and slurping your hardened nipple into his hot mouth as he lined himself up with your drenched entrance.

He hovered over you, gazing into your lust filled eyes as he raised an eyebrow, “Do we need a break?” 

“Don’t fuckin’ play with me, Joel.” You huffed impatiently, slapping his backside for good measure. 

He shook his head fondly at you before plunging back inside you. His smile vanished swiftly as you both let out a ridiculously high-pitched moan.

You wrapped your legs around him even tighter and clung to his arms and shoulders as he fucked you into the mattress. You sobbed a moan as hot tears began to pool in your eyes as you were railed into a purer level of ecstasy with each calculated thrust.

“Are those tears, angel?” Joel slowed his pace, fucking into you deep and slow. 

“Yes. Hap—happy tears. I never thought I’d be able to experience pl—pleasure like this ever again.” You admitted breathlessly. 

“Thank me.” He ordered, licking the escaped tears that streamed down your cheeks.

“Thank you,” You praised, whimpering softly as he found that sweet spot inside of your core. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him wherever your lips could land. His cheek. His nose. His bearded chin, “Thank you. Thank you Joel for fuckin’ me so good.” 

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

“Fuuuuck,” Joel whined as your praises got to him, “You’re welcome, sweet baby.” 

Joel locked his lips against yours in a desperate kiss, both moaning as your tongues danced together. His unrelenting thrusts and needy kisses were causing you to run out of air, but you couldn’t give a damn. If this was how you were gonna go out then so be it.

“You’ve fucked me into oblivion so now it’s your turn to cum. Please Joel.” You panted, eyes blown wide with anticipation. 

“Mmm,” He gasped as he felt his end nearing, “Where do you want it?” 

“Cum inside me.” 

His movements faltered for a brief moment as he thought about something then nodded his head in agreement. 

“Okay.” He grunted as he buried his face into your neck, sucking a bruise onto your shoulder. 

“Please, baby,” You begged as you felt his cock pulse inside of you, “Give me all of it.”

“I’m cummin’, baby.” Joel warned, panting as his rocks lost their rhythm and became more erratic. The first stripe that shot inside of you made you shiver and you jolted right along with Joel. 

“Ahhh!” You would have let out an ear-piercing scream if your voice hadn't already been shot to hell. Another climax ripped through you. You bit your bottom lip and clung to Joel for dear life as you both shook with pleasure. 

“That’s one for the history books.” Joel blurted as he snuck a quick peek at you before settling back down along your spent body.

You both burst out laughing as you tried to calm your hash pants. 

Both of your untamed laughs eventually turned soft giggles then into steady breaths, and within 10 minutes the room was filled with soft snores.

[abeautylives]

Trip Around the Sun - Day Two

a/n: Thank you for your patience as I took some time to celebrate our sweet Josh. Like a lot of you here, I'm a queer person that felt an immense sense of pride in his bravery and an insane amount of joy knowing how loved he is. To that point, if it needs stating, this is a work of fiction. To another point, in light of recent events, I wanted to say that I very much love and support my fellow members of the LGBTQ+ community, keep fighting the good fight babes 👁️🌈👁️

Read Part One

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: 9.8k this part

summary: A persistent and charismatic stranger disrupts the serenity of your tropical escape. What's the harm in a vacation fling?

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, more summer Josh, language, drinking, mentions of sexual situations, explicit sexual content, public sexual activity, penetrative sex, kinda fluffy tbh

☀️☀️☀️

“My name’s Josh.”

Of course it is. When you’d first seen him from across the pool, you could’ve pegged him as a Josh or a Justin, even a Jake. It just makes so much sense.

What made little to no sense was the way your settling heart rate had kicked back up when he said it, the sound of his name shaped by those lips and pushed past those teeth with an almost embarrassed giggle.

Josh.

He’d asked for yours in return and when you gave it, he’d rolled it around on his tongue and then repeated it. It’s been a pleasure to meet you.

You’ve been thinking about that all morning. Not about the way he’d offered to walk you back to your room, or the way you had invited him in, ready to return the favor of the orgasm he’d bestowed you. Not about the way he had looked at you, in awe of your apparent generosity, or the way he’d gracefully declined. You don’t owe me anything, beautiful.

You definitely haven’t been thinking about that. Not while you sipped your coffee or the Bloody Mary that followed. Not while you picked at your breakfast or walked back to your room after abandoning it.

You’re absolutely not thinking about him now as you make the journey back to the blazing heat of the pool deck. You’re not scanning the area for his cap or his curls or his face. You’re not headed toward the same lounge chair you’d used yesterday in hopes that if he’s looking… he’ll find you.

It’s shameful, the way you’re thinking about nothing but him.

As your gaze moves over the pool, it lands on a couple of boys, probably nine or ten years old, maybe brothers. They’re taking turns attempting handstands in the water, timing each other and laughing wildly when the other loses his balance, in the exact spot where you’d let a stranger finger fuck you before he’d even introduced himself.

I need a drink.

Instead of settling into your chair, you dump your bag and towel onto it and head directly to the bar. Around the back side of the small building, constructed to resemble a thatched hut (grass roof and all), there’s a walk-up bar and that’s where you order a margarita and a shot of tequila. The bartender serves up gold instead of silver, but you knock it back anyway and resist the urge to gag as it lights your throat on fire.

The plastic holding your other beverage is already sweating in the heat by the time you’ve made it halfway around the pool and back to your chair, which is exactly when you spot him. Wanting to observe him before he sees you, as he’d done to you the afternoon before, you slow your stride and take a long sip through your straw.

He must have been looking for you, but he found your belongings strewn across your chair and it appears that he’d made himself comfortable in the one beside yours once again. His trunks are the same he was wearing yesterday, a light green and white patterned print that leave the entire length of each thigh exposed, and his torso is blessedly shirt-free. Because you can, you objectify him for just a moment, your eyes lingering just below his navel before they move up the line of his body and land on his chest.

Now I’m the creep.

You make yourself giggle and keep it moving. You’ve almost reached him and you’re surprised, or disappointed that he hasn’t noticed you. Unfortunately, the closer you get, the better you can see the fucking ridiculous sunglasses he’s wearing. With no cap to shade his eyes today, his head wrapped in a white bandana and hair tied back again, you understand the need for sunglasses, but these are horrendous.

“Yee haw, bro.”

His head moves with you as you come around him and step between the chairs, his face upturned and smile already stretching wide and shining bright. He watches closely as you move your bag and towel, bent at the hip, ass pointed in his direction and covered today only by a scrap of electric blue that’s nearly tucked between your cheeks. When you chance a peek at him over your shoulder, you wish you could see his eyes, but alas.

There’s a hint of laughter in his voice, but only because there had been a hint in yours. “What?”

Lowering onto your chair, you lean into it and recline as if you’d known all along that he’d be here waiting for you. “What’s with the shades?”

It’s cute, the genuine confusion as his smile goes lopsided. “It’s bright out here?”

“They’re hideous.”

“Wait, really? You don’t like them?” The corners of his mouth drop.

You can’t stifle the laughter any longer. It’s shaking your shoulders as you tell him you really don’t. When he sits forward in his chair, it looks like he’s about to stand and you’re suddenly worried you’ve actually offended him.

He pulls the glasses off of his face and examines them, turning them over as if he’s seeing them for the first time. As they move in his hands you can see that they’re not actually Pit Vipers, they might be Oakleys but they’re a huge purple and green color shifting shield of plastic. His eyebrows are knit together as if he’s deep in thought.

“I’ll throw them in the ocean, right now.” He stands and moves like he’s going to walk away from you, head to the beach and chuck them in.

Your hand shoots out and lands on one of his wrists, fingers wrapped around it. “No! Don’t go…” His eyes, now revealed to you, drop to where you’re touching him, a rainbow spread over his skin at the tips of your fingers. “I’m just fucking with you.” When he lifts them to your face, they’re narrowed in sly gratification, a smirk forming below his mustache.

He accepts that, along with the knowledge that you really seem to want him to stay, mourning the loss of your hand on his when he plants himself back in his lounger. The glasses slip back over his ears, settled on the bridge of his nose.

“I like them. I don’t tend to care if anyone else does.”

That sounds authentic, based on the limited observations you’ve made you’re sure he doesn’t give a shit about what others may think. The short shorts, the bandana, the sandals he was wearing last night and even the tiny hoops gracing each earlobe. It’s just who he is.

“That’s good. I wish I didn’t care what people thought about me.” Flippant, you don’t really mean anything by the comment and bring your drink up to your lips.

“Do you care what I think?”

His own words tumble over each other in your mind. Lovely. Captivating. Beautiful. Stunning. Trouble. “Mm, I know what you think.”

“Huh. I suppose I haven’t been subtle. What do you think about me?”

There it is again, a warmth crawling across your cheeks that has nothing to do with the climate. Your gut tells you to lie, to tell him that you don’t, you haven’t thought of him at all.

“I thought you didn’t tend to care about the opinions of others, hm?”

No response, no way to read his eyes past the ostentatious glare of his sunglasses but he’s definitely staring at you. Your heart tells you to give him the truth.

“I’m not sure yet what I think about you. But I have been thinking.”

There’s a comfortable bit of silence while he turns that over in his mind and you apply sunscreen, SPF 30 this time. He offers with only a tiny bit of sarcasm to get your back, but today you accept hastily, greedy for the feeling of his hands on you.

The tube transfers from your hold to his as you turn away in your chair, hair pulled forward over your shoulder and presenting the expanse of tanned skin to him. He squeezes it into his palm and warms it between his own hands before touching you, and you’re sure it’s intentional. Every time his skin has met yours has seemed purposeful, almost calculated, like he’s mapped out his pilgrimage over your body in advance.

This act is not a chore, or even a favor, it’s purely selfish of him as he leans close and places his hands over your shoulder blades. The lotion spreads as he watches his fingers outstretch, pale in comparison to your sun-darkened shoulders. They travel upward first, firmly pressed against you and he can feel the quiet hum that vibrates through you before it sounds from your throat.

“You better stop that.” His voice crawls its way into your ear, pitched low and bearing that edge again.

“Hmm, what?” Your head drops forward and his hands are still moving, fingertips dragging down the sides of your ribcage and barely skimming the curve of each breast.

“Making those little noises. Unless you want all of these people to see what it does to me.” Another hum, tightening into a whine as those hands smooth over the small of your waist and come back in to meet on either side of your spine. The memory of what you barely got to see and never got to touch last night only serves to turn his warning into temptation. You wouldn’t mind seeing it again, even here in the light of day.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Pervert.” His fingers push underneath the strings at your hips and slide under the fabric as his palms work the sunscreen into your lower back, reminiscent of how he’s teased you with those fingers in the pool. “Are those the thoughts you’ve been thinking about me this morning, beautiful?”

“Well they are now.”

His hands leave you abruptly and you turn to watch him swipe what little is left of the sunscreen over his cheeks, pushing under the rim of his glasses then running his fingertips over the bridge of his nose.

“Um, do you need more? On your back, or, whatever.” That was embarrassing, the curve of his lips making it even more so as he appears to know exactly what you’re asking.

Can I touch you?

“I’m good, applied in my room.” Cheeky fucker.

“Even your back, though?” Okay, desperate.

“It’s taken care of. For now.” He doesn’t elaborate and you can’t bring yourself to ask exactly who had assisted him. It’s none of your business. “So, what are your plans for the day?”

The tube of sunscreen is tossed back into your bag and he returns to his reclined position in his chair, you follow suit and take another sip of your now watered down margarita. You lift a hand and gesture to the scenery in front of you, arm sweeping wide.

“You’re lookin’ at it, handsome.”

An accidental clue, some insight into exactly what you’ve been thinking about him. He revels in it silently, making no comment or quip but adding it to his mental spreadsheet.

“You know there’s a lot more to do here besides lay by the pool, right?”

You do know that, in a vague sense but you haven’t bothered to look into it. Most of your time before you met him yesterday has been spent alone, as you’d intended, and whatever activities this place has to offer just seem… sad to do by yourself.

“Sure, but I can get drunk by the pool.”

“There’s an entire ocean of clear turquoise water right there. We could go swimming, or there’s jet skis, or I’m pretty sure we can sign up for this boating excursion. Spend a few hours on the water, drinks included.”

We?

“What makes you think I wanna spend my vacation time with you?”

A brief pause, he only thinks it over for a second or two, as if he knew you would ask. “You haven’t sent me away yet, you were checking me out from over there ten minutes ago,” he points to where you’d been staring from, when you thought he hadn’t noticed you, “and you were practically begging to suck my dick last night. I think you like me.”

“I was not begging to- you’re annoying, you know that?”

It’s not lost on him that you haven’t tried to deny anything else he’d said, even though you’re blushing. It’s not lost on you that he once again seems to know more than he should, that when you’d invited him into your room all you were imagining was the feeling of him on your lips, the taste of him on your tongue.

He’s grinning when you slide your eyes over to gauge his reaction. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. Hey, I’m gonna go get a drink while you decide what we’re doing today.” Up and out of his chair before you can argue that, you watch him head in the same direction you’d gone around the pool toward the walk-up side of the bar.

“Josh!” He turns back, the sound of his name shaped by your lips and pushed past your teeth stopping him in his tracks. “Get me another margarita?” You lift your nearly empty cup and shake what’s left of the ice around in the bottom. He offers only a two-finger salute and a wide smile as he turns away from you again.

Your eyes slip closed while you wait, giving no real thought to anything you’d want to do aside from exactly this. When a bead of sweat loses its battle with gravity and slips down your chest, between your breasts and past the string just below them, you sit up to dab your skin with your towel.

A cold drink would be nice, what the fuck is taking him so long?

He’s not at the swim-up bar, his white bandana nowhere to be seen among the groups of people gathered there. You look down the pool deck to your left, in case he’s actually given up on you and decided to leave you alone, disheartened at the idea and irritated with yourself for feeling that way. When he does finally come around the deck, two drinks in hand, he finds you scrolling on your phone with an unmistakable frown pulling the corners of your lips down.

“Miss me?”

“Shit!” Your phone slips from your fingers and bounces off your hip, landing face up on the concrete. “Do you get off on scaring the shit out of me?!”

Laughing, he hands over your margarita and reaches down to scoop up your phone when you snatch the cup from him. “If I say yes, will you think less of me?” He offers your phone next, which you slip into your bag after a quick examination and finding it miraculously undamaged. You ignore that question in lieu of asking another of your own.

“Where were you?”

“Ha! You did miss me. That’s cute.” Instead of taking his place in his chair, he sits at the foot of yours. To his delight, you spread your legs and plant your feet on the ground on either side of the chair to make room for him.

“I missed the tequila.”

“Uh huh,” hidden behind the shield of his glasses, his eyes dart down between your legs to where your bikini is barely concealing you from view, “Well drink up, we’re going sailing.”

You sputter around the mouthful of alcohol you’d just nearly inhaled.

“We leave in an hour.”

Forty-five minutes and another shot of tequila (silver this time, at Josh’s request) later, you’re strapping a glaringly orange life vest over your chest.

“I know how to swim, this is so unnecessary.” You click the final buckle into place and pull the straps tight.

“It’s just a precaution, I think we’re allowed to take them off once we’re anchored.” You’re grumbling as you struggle to get comfortable beneath the foam and nylon. “Besides, it’s a really good look for you, provocative even.”

“Shut up.”

You’re summoned to make your way down a long wooden dock that juts out into the ocean, Josh falling in step beside you, knuckles bumping yours as your arms swing between you. Reaching the end, a crew member waits on board with a hand extended that Josh grabs ahold of and hauls himself over the side and onto the deck. Creating his next excuse to touch you, he turns back and extends his arm, hand held out and eyes imploring you to reach out and take it. You can’t see the way they’re appealing to you, the purple green shift hiding them, but his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth as he grins and his eyebrows are raised expectantly.

“It’s giving… Aladdin. Very ‘magic carpet ride’ right now.”

“Okay, well?” You cock an eyebrow up over the rim of your own glasses and his smile stretches. “Do you trust me?”

“Booooo, that was terrible!” You’re both giggling as you take his hand and let him pull you up and over the railing, where you promptly lose your footing and tumble into his chest. His arms wrap themselves around you, keeping you upright as you mentally curse the life vests preventing your bodies from meeting.

His face tucks into the hair over your ear, tendrils of it floating around your head in the breeze coming off the water. “This is nice, but we need to go take a seat so we can shove off.”

You turn your face to his and your noses almost touch. Before you can verbalize a thought, he drops his lips to your cheek and presses a soft kiss there. Your fingertips are pulled to the spot as if they’re magnetized, your lips fallen open in a surprised ‘o’. A hand slides over your lower back beneath the vest and he guides you to a place on the deck, in front of the mast where he sits with his back against it. Anticipating your question, he tugs you down to sit between his legs and pulls your back into his chest.

Aggravated again that you can’t feel him, you finally find the words.

“I hate these fucking vests.”

From behind you, his chuckle rolls over your shoulder. “Why’s that?”

“I want- I just wish I could, I dunno…”

“You wanna feel me all pressed against you, hm?” With your feet pulled up and knees bent just in front of your chest, he reaches forward and runs the tip of one finger over the outside of your thigh, knee to hip. The boat starts to move just as he slips that finger over your hip bone and lower, dipping it under the hem of your bottoms and running it through the soft hair that he seems so infatuated with. “If you still like me when we get back, I’ll let you feel me all you want. Promise.”

Despite the needy sound that creeps from your mouth he doesn’t touch you where you want him to, an infuriating tease. His hand slides out of your swimsuit and his arms circle around your waist just below the vest.

You’re not sure how far from shore you’ve traveled, the wind whipping your hair around your face and Josh’s as the boat glides through the water, clear as crystal when you left but now an intense, ominous blue as its depths become unfathomable. He’d held you close for the entirety of the voyage, only pulling a hand away to pick your hair out of his mouth or run it down your arm. Once, he’d brought it up to your chin and turned your face to his and you thought, or hoped, he might kiss you but when he found your lips turned up in an enthusiastic grin he’d just smiled brightly and placed that hand back at your waist.

It’s not until the boat slows to an eventual stop, and someone comes from below deck to ask for your drink orders and advise that you could, in fact, remove the vests if you wished, that you realize that no one else had ever boarded.

You unbuckle the vest as soon as you’re able to and toss it to the other side of the mast behind Josh, turning to watch him do the same.

“Josh?”

His vest lands next to yours and he lifts his hands to make sure his bandana is still secure. There’s something about the way his biceps flex that makes you wish you’d been able to see them more clearly last night at the pool. “Hm?”

“Why are there no other passengers?”

He glances to either side, confirming the absence of anyone aside from the crew. “Huh, that’s weird.”

“Did you do this?” You’ve shifted from his lap, kneeling in front of him now, palms rested on your thighs. Before he can answer, you lift a hand and slip his sunglasses away from his face, met with honey and amber sparkling with mischief.

“Now why would you thi-“

“Tell me the truth,” you stand, looming over him with the hand holding his glasses reared back behind your head, “Or these are swimming with the fishies.”

The way your body is twisted, poised to throw them overboard, creates an interesting shape at the curve of your waist that only makes him wonder what you would look like twisted up in the sheets of his bed, or yours. Probably yours.

This is gonna be a long day.

“Yes, I did it.” The glasses are dropped into his hands, caught before they hit the deck between his legs where he places them delicately. They are his favorite, after all.

“Why? How?”

He rises to his feet, more or less eye to eye with you, and finally pulls you close, bodies meeting at the hips. Not prepared to concern you with the how, he answers the why.

“I apologize in advance for what I’m about to say.” You let your own hands rest over the dips at his hips, the line of muscle there leading into his trunks. Focused on the look in his eyes, perhaps slightly nervous but still swimming with a hint of devilish intention, you tilt your head and wait for him to continue. “I thought it would be sort of… romantic.”

The cackle of laughter that you let out is unattractive and riotous but his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles and soaks it in. When you get yourself under control, he pushes it further and slides his hands up your back, pulling your chest to his and letting his next words ghost over your lips.

“Humor me, beautiful. I don’t know about you, but I find a little romance to be a huge turn-on.”

You can feel the truth of that, growing and pushed against you. Presented with an opportunity to take what you definitely haven’t been thinking about, you slide your palms up from his hips and over his stomach. He tenses, muscles bunching under your touch as your hands move slowly over his skin. It’s soft under your fingertips, smoother than the voice he’s been using to break you down and coerce you into playing this game, aside from the goosebumps rising to the surface as you continue up and over his chest.

His eyes had broken from yours, prompting you both to watch your hands travel up his torso and land just under his collarbones, one of his coming between you with a finger hooked under your chin. As your face lifts to his again, he slides your sunglasses away from your eyes and tosses them over his shoulder.

The arm wrapped firmly around your back keeps you close when you try to push away. Unable to move, you slap a hand to his chest.

“Josh those were expensive!”

“I’ll buy you a new pair.”

His lips are on yours before you can argue it, working to silence you and wipe any concern for the glasses from your brain.

Last night, he’d only kissed you once, slamming his mouth to yours to muffle your cries and get just a taste of the champagne on your tongue as you came undone around his fingers. No soft pecks to your trembling lips as you floated back to earth, no shy kiss goodnight as he’d left you at your room.

But he’s kissing you now and it’s everything you could have, but definitely haven’t, imagined. His lips are pillowy soft and slotted together with yours as if they were always meant to be there. You feel the fingers splayed over your spine press into your skin there just as his other hand comes back up to cup your jaw, tilting your chin just a little more so that when the tip of his tongue slips out and over your bottom lip, you’re perfectly positioned to open them and accept it.

This time when they slide against each other, your tongues taste vaguely of tequila and lime, a flavor that he seems to approve of as he groans into your mouth and pulls you impossibly closer. The hand on your back slides downward, over the curve of your ass where he grips a handful and jerks your hips into his, his arousal evident against your thigh.

“Sir, your drinks- oh! Sorry!”

You practically jump away from each other, you stumbling backwards and Josh turning his back to the affronted woman holding a margarita in one hand and a tequila soda in the other. You’re not able to stop the laughter from bubbling over, a hand clasped over your mouth as you watch him adjust his dick in his shorts. Impressively, there’s really no hiding it, so you thank her with tears in your eyes and take the cups from her hands, giving her reprieve from Josh’s awkward situation.

Moving carefully over the unsteady surface of the deck, you sidle up to him and hold out his drink.

“Romantic, isn’t it?”

“Painfully so, damn thing won’t go away.”

Your eyes drop to the obvious tent in his shorts as he continues to try concealing it.

“Maybe stop touching it?” He does, reaching over for his drink and chugging about half of it with his hard-on proudly displayed to the open ocean. A dribble of the clear seltzer spills over and drips from the corner of his mouth before he pulls the cup away, your hand moves in to catch it with the pad of your thumb. Rather than flick it from your fingers or wipe it away, you push it back up to his still open lips. They close over your fingertip and his tongue swirls against it like he can’t help himself but to taste you again.

He lets it slide from his mouth as your hand drops. “You’re gonna have to stop touching me if I have to wait until we’re back on dry land to fuck you.”

It is an unfortunate turn of events, your own arousal is pooled between your legs and there’s nothing you can do about it, even as his words shoot straight to your core.

“Who says I’m gonna let you fuck me?” You’ve dropped your volume, a quiet provocation.

“Mm, I’m not a mind reader but I am intuitive. Getting me back inside you is all you’ve been thinking about since I pulled my fingers out of your perfect little pussy last night.”

Your jaw drops open, closed, open again as no words come to mind in response.

“Exactly. Why don’t you sit back down and drink your margarita, enjoy the view.”

You did just that, heading toward the front of the boat, which Josh advised is called the bow as he took a seat beside you. In your first attempt at an actual personal question, because really anything personal you might learn is not your business and ultimately doesn’t matter, you asked if he had a lot of experience on sailboats.

“Not particularly, but this isn’t my first time.” Vague, but again, does it really matter?

His thoughts must be similar to yours, as he avoids asking you anything that would leave you as more than you are - two complete strangers destined only to know each other right now, whatever that might entail. He asks about your time at the resort so far, if you’ve ever been here before, if you drink anything other than tequila.

“Vodka, on occasion, but I prefer tequila.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

Despite his previous warning, he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you in some way, familiarizing himself with you the only way he feels allowed to. A palm placed to your shoulder when he thinks he’s said something clever. His fingertips drawing lazy circles up and down your legs when you lay back and stretch yourself out over the deck, ankles crossed and feet placed in his lap. Eventually those fingertips find yours, a cautious touch as he toys with the idea before interlacing them and pressing your palms together.

Time spent with him moves in direct opposition to the hours and days you’ve spent alone here. A few more drinks, and even a lunch that had appeared mysteriously from below deck, are gone well before you’re ready for the afternoon to be over. You’re told that you’ll be heading back in ten minutes and you’ll have to wear the vests while you’re underway.

“C’mere…” He doesn’t have to say much else to draw you in, offering a hand to help you stand and using it to spin you around to face the water. He pulls you in, his arms wrapped around your waist again and his chin dropped to your shoulder. Into your ear, he explains, “Just wanted to feel you all pressed against me before we have to don your favorite accessories.”

You groan at the thought of strapping yourself into the life vest, at the thought of three inches of foam separating your bodies as he holds you like this. Turning in his arms, you let the length of your body melt into his, your own arms making their way over his shoulders.

“Do you think they’ll ban me from the resort if I refuse to wear it?” His eyes are alight again with laughter, amused by your question.

“If you don’t wear it, they may tie you up and keep you in the cabin. Actually, that might not be a bad idea, I wonder if they’ll let me do it.”

The musical sound of your giggling is like an invisible force, pulling him in to taste it. It’s gentle, his lips touching yours just long enough for you to reciprocate. He sighs as they separate, an almost remorseful sound that you don’t have time to examine before you’re instructed to put on the life vests.

Leaving this place is probably going to be harder than he thought.

🌙🌙🌙

Fuuuuuck this feels so good.

The water is just a touch too hot as it falls over your shoulders and runs down your body, but it’s working to help release the tension of hours spent with Josh, unable to take what you actually want from him. The romance was a nice touch, but not the kind that can provide any sort of relief to the ache between your thighs.

As soon as the door to your room had clicked into place, you’d considered taking care of it yourself. The instant you’d stepped under the spray of the shower, you’d tucked your fingers between your legs and found yourself still slick, the result of how he had kissed you against the doorframe, trailing his lips over your jaw and down the side of your neck and whispering promises to find you later.

You’d even slipped one inside, immediately realizing it wasn’t good enough, not what you need. One swirl over your clit had almost brought you to your knees, however.

I need to get laid. I need him.

Whatever charismatic kind of wizardry he’s been using on you has been effective, clouding your thoughts and lowering your inhibitions until he’s taking up all the space in your brain.

The steam is carrying the scent of your shampoo as you work it into your scalp, washing away the last few days of chlorine and salty air. It feels heavenly, but your mind is working through a scenario where Josh’s hands are tangled in your hair and that same scent is floating up to him as he hovers over you, he’ll think of you for the rest of his life, every time he encounters it.

The throbbing ache is getting worse.

As the lather from your hair washes down the drain, you force yourself to think of something a little more practical. He had promised to find you but offered no suggestion as to where you should meet, or when. Your stomach sounds on cue, a reminder that you have to do something about dinner whether those plans include him or not. With no way to reach him, you have to trust that fate, or something less whimsical, will bring him back to you.

Ew, get it together.

You clean the rest of your body quickly, before you can talk yourself out of even going back downstairs. Taking only enough time to dry your hair about halfway and swipe some mascara over your lashes, you tie on the black swimsuit just in case and throw on an outfit you’d bought during your last minute Amazon spree. Made of some flowy type of synthetic resembling linen, the waistband of the shorts sits high, well over your navel and the matching top is lined with buttons that you disregard, rolling up the sleeves and letting it drape open over your frame. The soft sage green is particularly appealing against the tan gracing your thighs and why would I care if I look appealing?

You’re thinking too hard about this, he already wants you and he’s made that much abundantly clear since your first meeting.

Now you just have to find him.

Most of the restaurants downstairs are buffet-style, which is only nice because it gives you the opportunity to move at exactly your own pace and be left in peace until your drink needs a refill. From your table against the window, you’re able to people watch as you eat, the variety of outfits that range from extremely casual to extremely overdressed is entertaining in its own right. There is a nightclub here, you consider the possibility that the overdressed have actual plans after this, unlike yourself.

Your gaze turns outward, through the glass that allows a view of the thatch roofed, terracotta tiled walkways lined by lit pools of water that are really just oversized fountains. There are plenty of people to observe outside, families and couples making their way to their own dinners as the sun finally dips low enough in the sky for the stars to fight for dominance. Your eyes are following a couple walking hand in hand, she’s smiling up at him as he talks, apparently enraptured by whatever he’s saying. They’ve almost moved out of your sight line when you see him.

He’s standing at the edge of the tile, the toes of his sandals nearly hanging over the rippling pool in front of him. A hand tucked into the front pocket, his shorts are still outrageously short though they look different than the two pairs you’ve seen him in so far, and his white tank top has been replaced with a white t-shirt. The white bandana is rolled loosely and tied around his neck, leaving his curls free to hang over his forehead and rest over his ears.

His other hand comes up and places the filter of a lit cigarette between his lips, the end glowing red and illuminating his eyes just as they lift from the water and land on you.

You watch him exhale, the smoke curling up into the air before it’s carried away on the breeze. He lifts that hand again, points two fingers in your direction, cigarette held between them, and shapes two silent words with those lips.

Found you.

From the small bag slung across your chest you pull an undetermined amount of cash and toss it on the table, unsure if it’s too much or not enough of a tip for the two drinks you’d been served but not finding it in you to care as you knock back the remnants of the glass in front of you. Looking back through the window as you stand, you lock eyes with him again, still watching you, and waiting.

He’s still watching and waiting as you step out into the heavy air, thick with heat even without the sun, and turn the corner that would lead you to him. You would love to say that you had been composed and casual as you moved in his direction but you’ve given up the act of indifference and you don’t try to hide the excitement in your expression.

Steps away from reaching him, you realize that you have no idea what his game plan is, where he intends to take you or how much longer he’s going to make you wait for the inevitable.

“Josh.”

“Well hello, beautiful. Don’t you look lovely with clothes on?” He takes another hit from his cigarette as he looks you over, the realization that he’s only ever seen you in a bathing suit dawning on you. It’s really no wonder that you’ve ended up here, nervously awaiting some insight as to when and where he plans to fuck you, when every moment leading up to now has been fueled by bare skin and wild imagination.

“We match.” It’s the first thing that pops into your head that seems appropriate to say, the color of his shorts is just a hint darker than that of your outfit. He looks down at himself before looking back at you with a raised eyebrow and a grin that says so we do. “I didn’t realize you smoked.”

Again, not your business, but you haven’t seen him do it so far. “I don’t, not much anymore anyway.” He bends to pick up a backpack from the tile that you hadn’t noticed, slinging it over his shoulder and grabbing for one of your hands. “I bummed this one.”

Your fingers wrap themselves around his hand immediately and you fall in beside him as he starts to walk.

“Something to take the edge off?” Still referring to the cigarette as he takes a final hit and tosses it into the sand-filled tray atop a conveniently placed trash can, you wonder if he’s also nervous.

“Yeah… something like that.” He leaves you wondering what that means and keeps moving forward, slipping into a silence that lasts as long as you can stand it.

“Where are we going?”

A soft squeeze to your hand that’s held in his. “To the beach.”

The beach?! “Josh, I thought- I mean, it’s early… Won’t there still be people all over the beach?”

He’s certainly not an idiot, and he does have a plan. “Not where we’re headed.”

“How do you know?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Your head snaps in his direction, he’s looking at you from the corner of his eye, the side of his mouth that you can see is turned up.

“Sure, I do but-“

“But you just can’t wait any longer to spread your pretty legs for me?” A strangled noise passes your lips. “Don’t worry, you only have to wait as long as it takes us to get where we’re going. You better hurry up.”

The sky is dark as you move away from the lit walkways of the resort, passing through the mostly empty pool area and finally hitting the sand. Josh pauses to slide his sandals off so you do the same, plucking them up and carrying them hung from your fingers. You walk along the water as it licks at the shoreline, passing only a few people before the beach is deserted completely the farther you go.

Looking up to the stars again, definitely not thinking about the last time you’d been lost in them, a heavy sigh slips out into the air.

“It’s so pretty here, I never wanna go home.”

His breath forms the words and the question materializes before he can stop it. “When do you leave?”

The answer lodges in your throat. You’re not ready to tell him, you’ve hardly had a chance to experience him and the sun is already setting on your time with him.

“Um… Sunday morning.”

His feet stop moving, the hand connected with yours stops you in your tracks. “So that’s it? I get you for tonight and maybe tomorrow, and that’s it?”

The dejection in his voice is surprising but that doesn’t make it sting any less.

“Yeah, Josh. I- what do you want me to say?”

He shakes his head and the moonlight shines off of his curls as they move. “No, nothing. It’s okay, we’ll just have to make the most of it, yeah? We can stop here by the way, we’re alone.”

The nerves are back, quickly replacing the regret that came with being the cause of the solemn frown on his lips. You watch him move inland, away from the water's edge and into the dark grove of palm trees growing straight out of the sand. Dropping to one knee, his sandals are discarded and the backpack comes around and sinks to the ground as he tugs at the zipper and pulls a huge Mexican blanket from the opening. He’s still unfolding it as you approach.

“What else is hiding in your little bag of tricks?”

“Tequila, obviously.” He pulls it out and passes the bottle up to you as he situates the blanket and brushes sand from the corners before strategically settling into the center. After a deep breath, you pull the cork and take a shot straight from the bottle, sucking a hiss through your teeth after you swallow.

“Something to take the edge off?” He’s smirking at you as you plug the bottle and he repeats your words from earlier.

You toss the tequila into his lap, which he catches deftly and quickly takes a shot of his own, laying it onto the sand after he shoves the cork back in it.

“Yeah…” This is it, now what? “…Something like that.”

Leaned back on his palms, legs stretched out in front of him, he’s looking up at you with his head tilted, just so. When he speaks, his voice is pitched low again but you hear him loud and clear.

“Get the fuck down here.”

Your sandals slip from your fingertips and you bring the strap of your bag over your head, letting it fall to the sand. A step toward the blanket and you move to slide your open shirt off of your shoulders, but he stops you.

“Don’t, please. Let me.” You leave it on and practically pounce on him, your knees landing on either side of his hips, the blanket sure to leave rug burn across your skin there. He captures your lips with a hmph against them as you collide with his chest, his arms circling you and pulling your body snugly into his lap.

This time, when your tongues meet there’s nothing gentle or apprehensive about it, he’s licking into your mouth like he knows you, like he’s kissed you like this hundreds of times, like he knows exactly what you need. His hair is soft wrapped around your fingers as they sink into it, his dick is already growing hard underneath you, you let your hips rock into it and drink down the groan that pours from his lips.

“Fuck, wait, hold on a second,” his hands stop the roll of your hips over his, “Do you wanna take it slow?”

“No, not this time. Please, c’mon Josh…” He lets your hips go, free to move unhindered as he chuckles into a fast kiss that moves from your lips to your jaw.

“Okay pretty girl, let’s do it then.” His kisses move from your jaw to that special spot he’d discovered earlier, outside your room. He’d wanted to pull your clothes off slowly but since you’ve protested… as he sucks the skin at the base of your neck into his mouth, one hand moves up to the knot just beside his lips and the other slides to the one at the middle of your back. In one motion, he presses his teeth to that sensitive little spot, and tugs at the strings holding your bikini top to your body. You can’t help the shameless moan, he can feel it against his lips, deep in your throat as his bite shoots electricity through your nervous system and the breeze off the ocean moves over your now bare breasts.

When he pulls back to look at you, your chest is already heaving, bared to him aside from the unbuttoned shirt fluttering around you. Your tan lines are dramatic, even in the absence of light and a triangle of pale skin surrounds each slightly darker nipple. He yanks the shirt down off your shoulders and traps your elbows at your sides, pushing your tits forward and forcing your hands from his hair.

“Every single thing about you is so fucking sexy, it’s unreal.”

You can’t respond with anything more than a soft whine as he leans in immediately and closes his lips over the same nipple he’d first touched last night. Unable to feel him with your hands, your hips are working overtime trying to create some friction where you’re throbbing so intensely that it hurts, until he releases his hold on your shirt to wrap his fingers around the curves he’s focused on.

As soon as your arms are free, you let your shirt slide from your body completely and reach to tug his own off of him. Your nipple leaves his mouth with a pop as he helps you, arms raised and reaching behind his head to pull the t-shirt up and over, the bandana falling to rest over his bare collarbones. He drops the tee onto the blanket, quickly snatching up the bikini top still between your bodies and the shirt you’ve let fall over his knees.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna slow down?”

“You’re not going fast enough.”

A challenge easily accepted. In an instant you’re looking up at the stars again, through the silhouette of the palm fronds. Josh is hovering over you, almost exactly how you definitely haven’t imagined it and his fingers are already tucked into the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down to your hips. You lift them from the blanket to allow him to slide the material down your legs and away from your body, expecting him to rip the bottoms of your bikini off with them but he doesn’t.

Instead he sits back on his heels for a moment before rising to his feet, leaving you exposed and confused.

“Josh.”

“Shh I know, just give me this one thing.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, unsure of how clearly he can read the exasperated look that must be written over your features, you ask what he could possibly want.

“Take them off. I wanna watch you take them off and I wanna see all of you, wearing nothing but the moonlight.”

Just verbalizing it causes his cock to pulse, but he resists offering it any relief.

Eager to give him what he’s asked for so poetically, and finally get what you’ve been wanting, you lay back again and arch your back away from the blanket, thumbs slid under the strings. You move them down over your hips slowly and push them to mid thigh, then pull the knots loose with your fingertips and let them fall away between your legs. When they land beneath you, you raise both arms over your head and elongate your entire body, knees together and toes pointed.

“Jesus. You look like a fucking goddess.”

It’s all he can manage for a moment as he commits this to memory, all of your skin glowing in a soft blue filter and on display just for him, the moon and the stars.

You watch as his hands flex, forming fists and stretching back out before they move to the waist of his own shorts. He makes quick work of opening the fly and shoving them and his briefs down to his ankles, seemingly moving without thought, simply on muscle memory alone as his fingers wrap around his dick. His body shudders as he pulls one slow stroke over himself before he realizes that you’re staring, eyes wider than he’s seen them before.

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t even think to ask if you had any special requests.” He giggles, a pure and innocent sound that’s completely jarring in the current setting, both of you naked in the open air, his fist still wrapped loosely around his cock that you’d underestimated.

“Josh, I…”

“What, beautiful? You ready for me?”

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

“You have a lot of fucking requests.” You feel like you might die of starvation if you’re not full of him, right now. Your feet pull back over the blanket and you let your legs fall open to him. Before he can ask for anything else, you slide a hand down between them and run two fingers through what’s already dripping out of you. “Fuck, please come here…”

The vision of you, combined with your pleading words brings him to his knees, they land between your feet and he crawls over you, shuffling free of the shorts still around his ankles. The hand that had just been stroking his dick circles your wrist and pulls your slick fingers between your bodies, then wraps them around him.

Hot and heavy against your palm, you squeeze him once, drawing the most delicious, almost pained whimper past his kiss-swollen lips.

Eyes turned down to where you’re finally touching him, he murmurs, “Take what you want, beautiful.”

The head of his cock is pushed against you, your grip on it guiding it to slip through your wetness before it slides past your entrance. And stops.

His hips pull back just a little, he reaches down to nudge your hand away and replace it with his own. “Here, kiss me…” You accept his lips on yours, a gentle reassurance and a few deep breaths pulled in through your noses. His kiss moves to peck over your cheek until his mouth reaches your ear.

“Relax baby, let me in. I’ve got you.”

His whisper works like a sedative, loosening the anxious tension of anticipation from your muscles and when his hips roll into you he slides in another inch.

“That’s good, perfect pussy stretching around me. Doing so good.” His praise coaxes a rush of arousal from you, leaking over him. Another roll, another inch.

“You okay?” Your eyes, squeezed shut since he’d pushed inside, crack open and find concern written all over his face. When your head nods, his shakes. “Tell me, please.”

“Yes, I can take it, I want all of it…”

His hands move, braced on either side of your head and he rears his hips back until he nearly slips from your body, then snaps them into you. He sinks in to the base, flush against you and catches your outcry to God with his lips once again.

He lets you both adjust to the feeling, you to the unimaginable fullness and him to the way your cunt is squeezing him like a vice. His lips separate from yours and he offers a warning.

“I don’t want to hear you screaming anyone’s name but mine.” To make sure you understand, he withdraws and crashes back into you.

“Josh! Fuck Josh, Josh, Josh…”

It tumbles forth, he slides into a rhythm of deep strokes that leave you gasping for breath in between curses and whines of his name as your legs wrap themselves around his hips. Your hands can’t seem to decide where they want to land, roaming over all of the skin they can reach, fingertips digging into the tight muscles of his back before sliding up to his shoulder blades and feeling them move as he supports the rocking of his body over yours. As he has since your first interaction, he seems to know exactly what you’re thinking.

Through a clenched jaw he tells you, “Keep doing that, keep touching me. Memorize me.”

That’s what you’ve been doing without even recognizing it, ingraining the feeling of every ridge and curve of him into your mind, ensuring you’ll never forget this moment, or him. You drag your hands over his shoulders and loop your fingers around the rolled bandana that still hangs from his neck, swinging over your face at the same rhythm that his hips are pumping into you. Using it to bring him closer, you tug him into a kiss and open your mouth to him, an offering of your tongue that he welcomes.

Sinking to his elbows, his body blankets yours and his strokes lose their depth, shallow and sharp and allowing the base of him to put pressure on your clit. As the moan rolls up your throat he releases your lips and lets it float into the air.

“Does that feel nice, my beautiful girl?” A kiss pressed to the sticky skin of your neck, right to that spot.

“So good, so good just like this.”

“Mm, sound so pretty. You feel like a dream, I never wanna wake up.”

Never, never. You’d swear you’re just thinking it but it’s spilling from your lips as you feel the hot ember that’s been glowing inside you all day begin to ignite.

He feels it too, the easy glide of his cock moving inside you disrupted by the tightening of your walls around him.

“I feel you…” His hips grind into you, your clit is throbbing as he rolls against it. “Can you cum like this?”

It’s an honest question. As much as he does seem to know, he doesn’t actually know your body or what it’s capable of. Regardless, the flush of embarrassment warms your chest and creeps up your neck.

“I- fuck, I don’t know.”

“Let’s find out.”

He puts everything he has learned into practice, his face tucked into the crook of your neck where his tongue and teeth play over that spot that makes you whimper, your hands grip his biceps as he brings one of his own to your tit and brushes the pad of his thumb over your nipple before rolling it between his fingers. He lets his body work between your legs, hips moving rapidly but staying tight against the sensitive place that you need him most.

“Ohhh my god…”

His next thrust slams against the back of your thighs, punching a yelp past your lips. “What’d I tell you?”

“Josh! Keep going, pleasepleaseplease!”

He grinds hard against you and forces your mouth open with his. As soon as the tip of his tongue slips over yours, the fire explodes inside you.

He tries to lift himself away, to see you unravel, watch it consume you, but your hold on him is unwavering so he stays and kisses you until your lungs are burning. When your face jerks to the side and you’re able to draw a deep breath, he waits until he feels your muscles relax around his hips and then his cock before he starts to move again.

“A goddess of the moon is what you are,” your face turns up to him as he separates your chests and props himself over you, even in the blue darkness and through the fog in your brain you can see that the honey and amber of his eyes has disappeared. “How could I not be drawn to you, like the tides?”

He’s gone poetic again, and you can’t imagine that you’re the source of his inspiration but his gaze is drinking you in as it moves over your face and then down your body. He leans in and places a chaste kiss to your collarbone before pushing away and sitting back on his heels, your legs falling away from him and feet landing on the blanket.

His hands wrap themselves around your thighs, just above your knees and you reach out to feel his stomach flex as he starts to thrust into you again, deep strokes that allow you to feel every inch of him as he drags over your walls.

“Mmm, does that make you the sun, then? Burning so brightly that you make me glow, even in the dark?”

He chuckles even as his cock pulses inside you. “I like that.” His eyes drop to where he’s sliding in and out of you, that dark patch between your thighs only adding to the appeal of your cunt taking him in over and over again. “Fucking hell, keep talking to me.”

It makes you smile, the way he wants to hear you, but… “I don’t have a way with words like you- oh fuck.”

His teeth are gritted, his rhythm getting sloppy. He’s close. “Say those dirty words, I know you know some.”

You let your hands slip from his stomach and land on your own chest, his eyes drawn to the rainbow of your fingertips sinking into the pale flesh of your tits before one travels down your stomach.

“I want you to cum for me, Josh.” He grunts above you and his hips stutter. Your fingertips reach your pubic hair and he groans as they trail through it. “Cum on me. Right here.” You tap your fingers there.

He pulls out of you and grips his dick, pushing the tip into the soft curls and growling your name as his release spills over them.

He strokes himself only a couple of times, shuddering as the last of it empties onto you and planting his fists into the blanket at your sides, his head dropped so that you can only see the halo of curls at the crown of his head. You can hear him breathing heavily, but he doesn’t lift his head to look at you so you run your fingers over his hair.

“Josh?”

“Hm?”

“Look at me?” Before he does, he brings a hand to your mound and slips his thumb over the mess he’s made there, spreading it through your hair with a final soft groan.

When his eyes meet yours, his lids are heavy and his lips are drawn into a tight line. It’s not the expression you were expecting, and it makes you nervous again.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He moves back over you and takes your face into the palm of his hand, his stare is intense as he searches your eyes for something that you're not sure that he’s finding there. Before he answers, he soothes your nerves with a soft, barely there kiss that brushes over your lips just long enough to make them tingle. His forehead drops to yours, sweat-dampened curls pressed between them.

“No, beautiful. I don’t think you ever could.”

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here @gretavanbitches @twistedmelodies @wildflowerxx-x @dannythedog @blissfulbellss @averagemisfit03 @dharmasdivine @thetroublegetssoloud71 @lucimoo @toxbexannouncedx @dig0930 @maddie-van-fleet @friska101-cg @welllauragvf @gretasimp @objectsinspvce @writingcold @gretavangroupie @sweetybre @gretasgoose @gvfjess @josh-iamyour-mama

This miniseries will have a third part and a short epilogue, please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the Taglist 🫶

[rylekayner]

pls tell me more abt jets punk au 👂👁️👁️👂

Wooo yes let’s go.

Ok so i’ve got a bunch of vague unconnected thoughts hence why I’ve been making my little drawing series instead of an actual fic so this is going to be very disjointed. I don’t know how long this may end up being so I’ll put it all bellow the cut :))

Mark and Connor meet at work, Mark is a tattoo apprentice and Connor is a piercer. Initially there’s a lot of tension between them, they’re opposite sides of the same coin.

Connor is an agitator and Mark’s uptight.

Half of Mark’s personality is that he’s completely straight edge and Connor used to sell drugs in high school.

Connor is a crowd killer, Mark is Mr pit etiquette.

It comes to a head when they both end up at a house show, Connor elbows Mark right in the face (genuinely by accident but to this day Mark doesn’t full believe him) and Adam drags them out side and tells them they need to get their shit together and either fuck or fight but just get it over with. Given Connor’s reputation Mark assumes he’s about to have to start throwing punches when he’s grabbed by his collar until he realised he’s being pulled in for a kiss.

They end up actually talking things out a realise they actually do a good job of rounding out each others harsher edges. Connor aggressiveness, and Marks elitist tendencies.

They still fight even 4 years into their relationship but they understand each other now much better than pretty much anyone else.

-

The band starts with Mark on guitar and vocals, Connor on drums with back up vocals and Troubs on bass. They end up adding Josh as lead guitar after his old band breaks up (not sure of the details with this one but I want Draisaitl in there somewhere cause I like the history between Jmo and Drai).

Troubs ends up leaving the band when he gets a “real job” in New York but he introduces the rest of the guys of Kyle as their new bassist.

Kyle would never admit it but he was terrified of Helle for the first couple of months, Connor has been in Winnipeg for years at this point but his reputation from the Michigan scene still haunts him and Kyle and heard stories. It’s almost hard to reconcile this version of Connor as the same one who’d allegedly set someone backyard on fire back in Michigan.

They end up bonding over making fun of Mark and Connor’s happy to have someone to smoke with again. Mark is still straight edge just less pretentious about it and Josh will do edibles but doesn’t like smoking so it’s been a while since Connor’s hand someone who will physically smoke with him. Once Kyle gets over his fear he has a little bit of hero worship going on which makes it very easy for Connor to convince him to get up to mischief.

This is going to end with mark/Connor/Kyle if I can help it.

-

Josh is a musical prodigy, he was in a metal band previously and has a crazy amount of skill with a guitar, mark thought he was being replaced when Troubs suggested recruiting him until Josh opened his mouth and they heard his excuse for singing (even for a punk band it was shocking) but he’s got a natural inclination to music in a way none of the other quite do. Together with Connor they write a majority of the bands songs.

He had a messy break up with Drai which caused his last band to fall apart and after that he mostly just focused on music and collage (he’s getting a masters in anthropology, they all thought it was a joke when he told them) but then there’s this new bouncer at Adams bar (Adam owns a dive bar sorry this is all very disjointed) and Josh is enamoured. Spoiler alert it’s Morgan who is not at all involved in the punk scene, he’s just new to Winnipeg and needed a job and now he’s at all of the gigs the play at Adam’s and Josh won’t talk to him because “he barely looks old enough to be in here”

Uhhh I think that’s it for the moment I’m on a lot of pain meds but if you wanna know anythjng in particular please ask I’m so excited to talk about this au the more I talk about it the easier it is for me when I eventually do write it

TL;DR

Mark: Straight Edge, Sings and Plays guitar, in a long term relationship with Helle

Connor: Shit stirer, plays drums, sometimes sings, writes a lot of the songs, in a long term relationship with Mark

Kyle: Newest member of the band, plays bass primarily but can play several other instruments, has something suspiciously flirty going on with Helle and Scheif

Josh: the most traditionally talented, plays guitar, is not allowed to sing under any circumstances, helps Helle with writing, had a nasty break up with Drai a few years back is now busy making heart eyes a Bear.

Morgan: Not really involved in the scene, just works as a bouncer for a lot of the gigs the boys play. Spends a lot of time day dreaming about Josh serenading him (only because he’s never hear josh sing)