josh dun doubt demo mask x reader
doubt
legit Just soft porn.
hi Bsf! i Am using ur photo Lol. Hope u enjoy. also be nice iHavent written anythjng bcs of School. Soz. also Praise? WRninf i suppose
backstage with josh was never quiet. amps buzzing low, crew voices muffled through the walls, his heartbeat still racing from the intense show. from playing the trumpet to back flipping off pianos and drumming? he was flushed, hair damp, skin gleaming under the faint light, mask still clinging to his face like he hadn’t had a second to breathe.
you pressed him against the wall before he could even speak, fingers curling into his shirt, and he let out this breathless laugh against your mouth. his lips were hot and messy under the mask’s edge, kisses half-muffled, half-desperate, his breath coming fast through the fabric.
“hi,” he mumbled, voice rasping, sweat dripping from his temple onto your cheek.
“shhhhut up,” you whispered, tugging the mask just enough to slot your mouth against his properly. he groaned into it, hands gripping your waist like he needed to steady himself, teeth clashing a little from how hard he kissed back.
the taste of salt, the smell of smoke and sweat, the chaotic mix of adrenaline—it was intoxicating. he was still buzzing from the stage, and you could feel it in the way he couldn’t stop—messy, greedy, his tongue sliding against yours like he wanted to take every ounce of you before someone walked in.
when you finally broke apart, both gasping, the mask was hanging crooked, and he was grinning like a maniac.
“best part of the set,” he muttered, forehead pressed to yours, which was only a brief moment of peace. you barely made it down the hall—his hand gripping yours, the two of you stumbling past cases of cables and half-crushed water bottles—before he shoved open the dressing room door and pulled you inside.
the second it clicked shut, josh had you pinned against it, kissing you like he hadn’t just been onstage for two hours. his mask was still crooked, sweat slicking his hair to his forehead, and you could taste the salt on his lips, the metallic tang of adrenaline.
you swatted his bare chest, and he laughed into your mouth, low and breathless, before dragging you toward the couch. he collapsed into it, pulling you down with him until you were straddling his lap, legs bracketing his hips.
“jesus,” he muttered, hands sliding over your thighs, gripping like he needed proof you were real. he tilted his head back against the cushion, mask half-off now, eyes blown wide as you leaned down to kiss him again.
it was hot and messy, all tongue and teeth, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt like he couldn’t keep still. then, with a lazy smirk, he settled his palms on your hips, guiding them slowly against his lap.
“yeah,” he breathed, lips brushing yours as he dragged you against him again, slow and deliberate. “just like that.”
his grip was firm but unhurried, thumbs pressing little crescents into your skin as he rocked you with him. you could feel the way he was still buzzing from the stage, like the adrenaline hadn’t left his system yet, leaking into every kiss, every drag of his lips against your jaw, your neck.
you broke for air, chest heaving, and he grinned up at you through damp curls.
“never thought i’d say this,” he rasped, voice hoarse, “but—screw the encore. this is better.” his mask finally slipped the rest of the way off, landing somewhere on the floor, but you barely noticed—you were too focused on the way his hands clung to your hips, pulling you down against him in lazy, deliberate rolls.
“that’s it,” he murmured, voice rough, lips brushing your temple as he guided you. “just like that, baby. doin’ so good for me.”
his words sent a shiver down your spine, goosebumps rising even though the room was hot with leftover stage air. his breath fanned across your neck, sticky with sweat, and you felt the way his chest rose and fell beneath you, still heaving from the show, from this.
you shifted against him, a little desperate, and he chuckled low in his throat. “look at you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another along your jaw. “so pretty… letting me have you like this.”
his grip tightened just slightly, enough to remind you he was in control even though his touches were unhurried, almost reverent. he tilted his head, lips finding the hollow of your throat, teeth grazing gently before he soothed it with his tongue.
“kinda knew you’d come back here with me…” he breathed against your skin, guiding your hips in another slow grind. “couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.”
your fingers tangled in his damp curls, tugging, and he groaned, burying his face against your neck. he kissed you there, open-mouthed and messy, before leaning back just enough to look at you properly—eyes glazed, lips swollen, a grin tugging at his mouth.
“you’re perfect like this,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours as he kept you moving with him. “perfect for me.”
the praise melted into your bones, softening the edges of the adrenaline, turning the frantic buzz into something heavier, warmer, like you were both suspended in this moment—his hands steady, his voice low, his body still humming from the stage but all of it, every last bit, centered on you.