You Taste Sweeter Than Revenge
pairing: Josh Washington x fem reader nsfw word count: 4.2k content warning: non-con elements (voyeurism) author's note: I think Josh having a love interest would get in the way of his "prank"
Finally, finally, you get a moment to yourself. You lean your head back against the wooden door of the guest room, basking in your long-awaited solitude.
The process of getting everyone up and settled at the Washingtons’ lodge was draining: Chris wouldn’t shut up about how he caught Sam snooping on his phone, Emily and Jess were at each other's throats over Mike, and Mike and Matt kept competing to be the alpha of the group.
And then there was Josh. Though not as much of a headache as the others, he stirred up some feelings in you that are…more intense than you expected.
Compared to the strong personalities of your friend group, Josh is someone you can relax around; he’s a little peculiar, but sweet and charming in his own way. You two have a strong friendship, however, due to his tendency to be a flirt, you sometimes question the nature of your bond. His teasing affects you more than you’re willing to admit, especially since you find him easy to look at. Thankfully, the comforting knowledge that he says that kind of stuff to everyone allows you to maintain the friendship and keep your attraction as low-key as possible.
Except, you’re having a difficult time with that right now. You can only blame yourself, you’ve been suppressing your feelings towards Josh for so long that it makes sense they’d bubble back up at some point. You just didn’t expect it to be tonight, or to be this bad—every cell in your body is pulsing with desire.
You make your way over to the bed, lying down on it and staring at the ceiling.
Fuck, how does he do this to you?
It started simple, totally harmless. Sam wanted hot water to take a bath, so Josh brought you down to the basement to help him out.
"Hey, it worked!" you exclaimed after hearing the low rumble of the boiler firing up.
“Attagirl,” Josh said, giving you a high-five.
His praise caused a shy smile to break out across your face before you could stop it, making you pray he didn't notice. He did.
"Seems like you're really into high-fives," Josh remarked, "Or, is it the person you're high-fiving?"
He's like this with everyone, you reminded yourself, any flirty banter was nothing special.
"Just love a good high-five," you said, avoiding his eyes by looking down to the basement’s cracked cement.
“Floor that interesting?” he teased, taking a step forward.
His movement prompted you to step back, but you stumbled when your heel hit the shelving unit full of boxes behind you.
Josh’s hands landed on your shoulders, steadying you, but even after you recovered, they stayed there, unmoving. With your eyes now adjusted to the dim basement light, you could note that he had moved much closer than what was necessary to help you. One small lean forward would press his chest to yours.
“Josh?” you said, searching for an explanation for the sudden but—though it makes you feel guilty thinking it—welcome closeness.
A mischievous grin lit up his face and he returned your question with one of his own: “Scared?”
You let your hand fall down onto his chest, fingers fiddling with a button on his flannel. “Not at all,” you responded. You attempted to make eye contact with him after answering, but it felt too intimate with him so close, so you turned your gaze away, yet no matter where you cast it, you’d still see him, his body was enveloping yours.
“Ah, I see, so you’re scared and a liar,” Josh retorts with a smirk. His hand came up to your jaw, holding your face still so you couldn’t avoid looking at him anymore, “What’re you so afraid of, little kitten?”
“Don’t call me that,” you deflected, rolling your eyes. Even though you were trying to come off as unaffected, little sparks flickered and fizzed in your body like summertime fireworks. Was this how a friend should make you feel?
“Oh? Is there something better I should call you instead?” Josh said, tracing his thumb along your jaw. “I can come up with something. Let’s see…honey?” He shook his head, “Nah, too marital. Hmmm, baby? That’s pretty basic, isn’t it?”
“You done yet?” you huffed, shifting your weight and continuing to pretend that hearing him call you pet names wasn’t making your stomach flip. He was being more persistent than usual, it made you wonder what was going on with him tonight.
“I guess I’m not good at this whole romantic nickname thing.” He released your jaw from his hold so his fingers could travel up and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “What if I just told you how pretty you are instead?”
Usually you could fend off his flirty comments by retorting with a somewhat decent response, but you were entirely at a loss for what to say. It didn’t help that your body was working against you, fully responding to Josh’s advances in a distractingly enthusiastic way. It’s hard to figure out why he’s being so aggressive with his flirting when your heart is thundering in your ears.
You try to move back, only to be reminded of the shelves of storage keeping you in place, sandwiching you between them and Josh’s large frame. Since retreat wasn’t an option, you tried to diffuse the situation as best you could.
“Slow down there,” you said with a nervous laugh, “A girl could get the wrong idea.”
With your palm on his chest, you felt his heart begin to pound. Josh’s hands moved down to your waist, traveling more hesitantly than his brusque teasing suggested they would. You forced yourself to keep your expression unchanging when they rested on the curve of your torso, sending scattered bolts of electricity up your sides. There was anxious authenticity in his tone as Josh said, “Maybe I’ve been wanting you to get that idea for some time now.”
You weren’t sure what to think, was he trying to say he was into you? But, that couldn’t be it, he flirts with everyone, not just you. A conversation he had with Chris that was particularly homoerotic came to mind. It was clear you weren’t special. However, there have been multiple times his attention towards you felt heavy-handed, though you tried to not overthink it, not wanting to be wrong about his intentions. Regardless, as he spoke to you, there was an undeniable charge in the air, the anticipation of what his possible confession meant buzzing around the two of you. If he was saying what you thought he was, this could be your chance to tell him how you’ve felt all this time.
His eyes flicked over your face and just as you opened your mouth to respond, a loud noise made both of you jump.
It was a metallic, dull sound filling the basement with its unsettlingly rhythmic beat. Both of you turned your heads to one of the hallways in the basement where the sound was coming from.
“Uh, sorry to interrupt this, but, and I really don’t want to, I think we should check that out,” you told Josh.
He blinked, reorienting himself, and then said, “Yeah, uh…sure, let’s go.”
You both began to walk deeper into the basement, closing in on the origin of the unnatural noise. It bellowed through the basement’s cement walls, consuming the hallway with its ominous tone. You followed a few paces behind Josh, but as you got further down the hall, you brought your hand forward and wrapped your fingers around his forearm. Being able to feel him made you feel safer. He paused for a second, but didn’t say anything, so you kept your hand on him as you advanced.
You were about to turn the corner and follow the noise further down into the basement when a shadowy figure jumped out at you. Your heart stopped beating for a second, only resuming its rapid pounding after you had turned and begun to run from the intruder.
Sprinting down the hallway, you yelled for Josh to run, the next and only thought in your brain being the escape that was the basement door. The masked figure followed in hot pursuit, just a few strides behind you.
You jumped up the basement stairs three at a time until you reached and nearly collided with the door, needing to step back before trying to pull it open. You yanked and you pulled, but the door was unyielding. You were screaming nonsense at Josh, and he was responding to you as best he could, telling you that everything was going to be okay. His arm hovered around you protectively, separating you from the approaching intruder.
The masked figure reached the top of the stairs and Josh stepped toward him, taking on a defensive stance. Then, the man draped in black held his arms up above his head and let out a ghostly wail that sounded…stupid.
Your eyebrows pressed together, and you choked out a “Huh?”, looking over to Josh, who had cracked a smile.
Your eyes darted between the two men, trying to work out what was going on. The intruder pulled off his mask, revealing Chris underneath, cracking up at the ingenious of his own prank.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” you said, face burning up.
“Good one, Cochise,” Josh congratulated.
You punched Chris in the shoulder, huffing how his prank wasn’t as funny as he thought it was, which only made him laugh harder.
“Were you in on this?” You turned to Josh, trying to mask your feeling of betrayal.
“Nope,” Josh chuckled, patting Chris on the back, “But I wish I had been.”
“Whatever, you two,” you said, grabbing the basement’s key from Chris and storming out of there.
“Hey, wait up!” Josh called after you.
“Let her go, Josh,” Chris said, “C’mon, I finally found the Ouija board.”
“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Josh responded, hurrying to follow you into the guest room hallway.
You had your hand on the doorknob of your room when you felt his fingers around your other wrist, tugging you back.
“Not in the mood, Josh,” you said, pulling your hand away. Though, you didn’t attempt to open the wooden door again, instead turning to face him.
“Hey, it was just a prank, right? You know Chris, he was just kidding around. No harm, no foul,” Josh said. If he were intending to make you feel better, it would be helpful if he said that like he fully believed it.
You sighed, exasperated. “Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I just-I probably looked so stupid.”
Josh stepped closer. “You were scared, I was too,” he said, his hand landing on the side of your arm, squeezing it, “No shame in that.” He let out a small chuckle, “I’m taking notes, Chris did a damn good job.”
“I guess,” you shrugged.
Josh stared back at you, puzzled, before breaking out into a small grin, “I know there was one part that I really liked.”
You looked away, appearing to find the sight of the doors lining the shadowy hall more interesting than him, but still took the bait, “And what part was that?”
Josh’s hand traveled down your arm, not once separating from it, to encircle your wrist. You shifted your gaze back to watch him place your hand on his forearm, the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel allowing direct contact with his warm skin. “I like that, when you’re scared, you hold onto me,” he confessed.
The air of indifference is hard to maintain now, but you still try. “I didn’t know you were so observant, Josh.”
He rested his hand on top of yours. “Just with you.”
You cursed yourself for how easy it was for him to win you over with a stupid, corny comment. Any embarrassment from the prank was superseded by the new tingly sensation in your stomach. Though, the adrenaline must have remained because you want to do something about the fact that, for all the time you’ve known Josh, you’ve never once tried flirting back.
Your fingers tightened around his forearm, noting the musculature present underneath his tan skin. You hadn’t realized how strong he had gotten. “Y’know, Josh,” you started.
“Yeah?” he breathed. He can feel your hand flex underneath his palm as you stroke your thumb along his arm with gentle swipes.
It was scary to even hint at how much you were feeling him right then, but you pushed through. “Maybe, I just like touching you,” you offered, “Scared or not.”
He exhaled unevenly, seemingly going to great lengths to keep himself still. It was new, to feel like your words had weight, for them to be the reason his gaze felt so heavy as he raked it over your body. The interaction felt dangerous but exciting; you didn’t want to shy away anymore.
“Josh!” Chris’ voice reverberated through the lodge.
“I really am gonna kill him,” you muttered. Josh let his arm drop back to its place by his side.
“Get in line,” he said, which earned a giggle from you.
Another call from Chris, “Where are you, bro? Ashley’s here. C’mon, it’s Ouija board time!”
Josh shook his head, “I…I should go, I can’t leave them hanging.”
“You sure you don't want to stay?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes. It’s funny, how you were just running away from him and were now trying to keep him from leaving.
He stiffened, seemingly weighing his options in his mind. His hesitation made you smile, you liked having an influence over him.
But it was not enough, because he relaxed into his typical playful energy, saying, “Unfortunately, I’m already tied up. I’ve got big plans for those two tonight.”
You frown, “Yeah, I bet the Ouija board madness will be one for the books.”
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he replied. Then he continued more earnestly, “But maybe we can hang out later? Finish our conversation?”
You pressed your lips together; you didn’t want to wait. However, it was probably for the better, if you were to have Josh, you would want it without interruptions.
“Okay, let’s talk later,” you agreed. He nodded, stepping back to go join Chris, but, before he could, you grabbed his shoulder and pushed yourself up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was quick and impulsive, but for some reason, you felt that if you hadn’t done it then, you wouldn’t get the chance in the future.
“Later, then,” he said, a soft smile spreading across his face. He turned and walked back to find Chris, leaving you standing all alone in the long hallway, longing for more.
So now you lie spread out on a quilt atop the guest room bed, head spinning as you relive your conversations with Josh. You should’ve invited him in; the want pulsing through the veins in your body wouldn’t be so hard to manage if you did. But to deal with Chris and the teasing that would have ensued from your ruthless friend group wouldn’t be much fun either.
Your arms wrap around your sides, hugging yourself as you think about being down in the basement with him, how his voice lowered when he spoke more seriously about his feelings, how you could feel the waves of heat radiating off his body despite the area’s chilled atmosphere. You’ve never had him that close to you before; the closest you’ve ever been was when he dared you to go on the Ferris wheel at a local fair with him, claiming you were too chicken to do it, and the small cart forced you to sit hip-to-hip as he laughed and you bit back your terror.
The memory makes you realize how long you’ve wanted this for. How long you’ve stifled your feelings, your attraction, your desire. Now that it’s happening, knowing that he feels the same way, it’s hard to hold back.
The cold winter storm outside does little to hinder the warmth dripping down your stomach like honey as, for the first time, you let yourself wonder what would have happened if it went further, wish it went further.
Your hands travel down to the waistband of your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them. You’re aching right now; you just want to feel better.
Only, though you don’t know it, there’s a camera in your room. And through its lens, there’s someone who’s watching.
Josh removes his skull-like mask so he can get a better look at the footage in front of him. He had come down to his hide-out in the basement, intending to electronically lock the gates around the lodge so he can continue enacting his revenge, but something on one of the multiple television screens stacked atop his desk drew his attention.
Even if the recording is black and white and somewhat obscured by pixelation, there’s no doubt that it’s you, sprawled out over one of the guest beds, pulling off your pants and bringing your hands down between your thighs.
Josh looks behind him, feeling like he shouldn’t be seeing this, but returns his gaze to the screen anyway, eyes widening as you begin to touch yourself, running your fingertips atop the soaked gusset of your underwear. Your head falls back onto one of the pillows lined up along the bed’s wooden headboard, eyes shut in bliss at long-awaited contact.
Josh steps forward, locks whatever gate he no longer really cares for, and turns his full attention to the glowing screen. He had the strength to refuse you earlier, though not without difficulty, especially after you kissed him, but that resource has since been depleted as he’s unable tear himself away from the tv, completely entranced. He has other things he should be doing, things he’s been planning for a year now, but he just can’t.
Your eyebrows are pressed together and your mouth slightly ajar as you begin to enjoy the feeling of your fingers, falling into a sensual, pleasurable rhythm. A slight rush of air escapes Josh’s lips as his body heats up, reminiscent of when he was pushed up against you in the basement. He found it hard to focus on his words with the way your body felt so soft underneath his hands. He can only imagine what it would be like if he were with you now, feeling your hot skin against his. He wonders if you’re imagining the same, wonders if that’s what’s getting you off, the fantasy of it being his fingers stroking the wet fabric of your underwear, making you jolt and twitch under his touch.
Josh isn’t sure when he got hard, maybe he has been this whole time, but what he knows now is that his erection is starting to ache. His gaze doesn’t falter from your body and its movements as his gloved hand travels downwards so he can palm himself through his overalls, desperate to relieve even just a fraction of the desire thrumming through his body.
He groans when you tug off your underwear, exposing yourself fully. You bring your hands to your soaked folds, touch now unobstructed by cloth, and start to draw slow circles on your clit.
Oh, you really like that. Josh drinks in every detail, intent on knowing how you like to be touched so he can burn into his memory. It’s an intimate moment, that you and Josh are both pleasuring yourselves together, even if you don’t know you’re sharing it.
You twist and turn on the bed, your free hand gripping the sheets beneath you as your fingers pick up in speed, applying more pressure to your sensitive clit. Though, that hand only stays tangled in the sheets for a moment, finding a better use pressed against your open mouth in a half-hearted attempt to muffle your sweet pants and moans.
Josh wonders if you’re hoping he’ll hear you and come in to catch you in the act; the thought has his hips bucking into the surface of his gloved hand, finding just friction to be unsatisfactory.
Then you break him, because as you’re running your fingertips along your glistening folds, you mouth his name. Josh. It’s undeniable now, you’re touching yourself while thinking of him.
He should be focusing on the prank, his revenge, everything he’s worked so hard to do, but all he can feel is the urge to fuck his fist at the sight of you purring his name.
He peels off his overalls, letting them fall by his boots, and unzips his dark jeans so he can pull out his dick, wrapping his hand around it. It’s hot to the touch and leaking pre-cum, no doubt a product of the strenuous sexual tension underlying your conversations. He begins to run his hand along his length, the extent of his own arousal making him shudder from the movement.
His forearm is covered in veins that travel underneath his skin like lightning, and as he pumps his needy cock, they stretch and bulge with his movements. Not so long ago, your hand rested on the same forearm that flexes as Josh fucks himself. He can feel it now, phantom grazes of your delicate fingers tracing his veins as he drives his dick through the tight grasp of his hand. Oh, how he wants you to be there, for you to be the one touching him.
He crumples forward, a single arm pressed against the table’s edge as his only means of support. God, the desire is eating him alive.
He should have just taken you when you were down in the basement. Pulled you into him and pressed his lips to yours, creepy sound be damned.
You’d be flustered of course, and probably try to act like you didn’t know what happened, all despite the fact that he knows you’d kiss him back with equal passion. You try to act tough, but he can tell that his little comments get you hot. Josh knew you were going to crack at some point, and the way you’re writhing around on a bed in his lodge proves him right.
If only you weren’t so damn stubborn about hiding your feelings. It’s been so obvious that you’re into him, with your bashful smiles or secret glances you don’t think he catches, but, at every opportunity he’s tried to give you, you shy away.
He should teach you a lesson for your coy attitude, you need to learn that being direct with him is what’s best. He contemplates going to find you in the guest room and fucking your brains out, it would show you how much you’ve been missing by being shy.
Though, Josh likes the idea of punishing you more. He’d like to get his revenge on you for prolonging his frustrating and tortuous weeks of pining after you, trying to get it into your head how much he liked you.
If he were to have his way, he would edge you, get you so close that you’re whining his name, pleading for your release, and then watch your expression turn when he withholds it from you. Maybe he’d earn a cute pout, or even better, you’d beg for him to continue. Josh curls into himself, his movements faster and sloppier, desire running rampant through his body.
He watches you sink a finger into your soaked entrance, seeking to relieve the painful emptiness of your canal. Josh wonders if it’s enough. The desperate roll of your hips as you try to push your finger deeper tells him it’s not, that you need more—that you need him. He watches you pause for a second, a cute frown on your lips, as you come to the same realization he has: it’ll never be enough if it’s not him. Josh exhales sharply, exalted.
You still try your hardest, though you can’t be blamed for the fruitless effort with your head so dizzy from lust. You push your finger in and out of your wet vagina as your other hand stimulates your clit, though awkwardly. It would be so much easier—feel so much better—if he were with you.
Josh sees no need to punish you for the heartache you put him through anymore, you’re doing it yourself right now, working so hard despite the fact that you’re unable to get yourself over the edge. He likes that you’re probably longing for him right now, wishing he were there to make you feel good.
It might be his sadistic side, or the fact that he feels needed, that does it for him, but your struggle gets Josh to his limit, his hand gripping onto the side of the table as he bucks his hips into his dripping hand. With a sloppy pump, he comes, white ropes shooting out as he presses his eyes shut in utter bliss. He seriously considers that you could turn into an obsession of his, if you haven’t already.
Josh takes a deep breath, trying to calm his uneven breathing, and realizes you’ve given up on getting yourself off, redressing yourself while dissatisfaction mars your pretty face. He feels bad for a second, wanting to make you feel better, but his eyes flick to another screen to realize Chris is waking up from the sleeping gas, meaning Josh is short on time if he wants to fake his own death.
He cleans himself off, redresses, and after one last look at the screen, he leaves.
He’ll deal with you later.
