#jersh

Josh Dun x  Reader fic. 

This is short but sweet, all fluff. 

Warnings: One light hint at past self harm, but nothing big. 

I love when the sun is setting. The light filters in through the window warming his skin. The yellow dye of his hair turns a fiery orange in the glow, and his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks. I marvel at the colors in the sky, the shadowing of the trees, the clouds highlighted pink and orange. I try to tell him how beautiful it is, but there he sleeps, tangled in the white fluff of the comforter.

I watch him as he dreams. I admire the peaceful pout that stays on his lips, the soft sweet breaths of slumber creating a gentle rhythm in the quiet of our bedroom. I never thought that I could love someone this much. I had been broken so many times, I though that maybe love just wasn't meant for me. But when I look at him, this sunshiny drummer boy, my heart swells, full to the brim with affection.

Everything is just a little more beautiful with him around. "Look at the stars!" He would tell me. At first they were just little specks of light to me, but because of him, they are beautiful, mysterious, and they whisper of undiscovered adventures out there in their playground of a night sky.

He shifts in his sleep, turning to face me. My stomach warms at the sight of this man unconsciously pulling me closer while he sleeps, not being able to stand being any further away. I trace the little snare drum tattoo on his arm that’s draped over my waist. His skin is soft and warm, similar to his eyes when he looks at me while I'm laughing or singing. Or even when I'm just sitting there quietly next to him.

 I’ll catch him staring sometimes. He used to blush and look away when I did, but now he gazes openly, a gentle smile resting on those perfect lips. I kiss those lips now, and he frowns in his sleep, mumbling incoherently, not wanting to be woken from his dream yet. I giggle and instead run my fingers through his curly yellow hair. My skin loves this closeness with him, loving the sensation of his silky hair running through my fingers. Every inch of me hums at being lucky enough to be lying next to him.

"I love you, Josh." I whisper, barely loud enough for even myself to hear. But he does, waking up and gazing at me with those almond mocha eyes. "I love you too." He takes my hand in his and kisses each of my finger tips. They were lazy sloppy kisses, the kind that you give your lover when you're not quite awake yet, but can't help yourself. Then he kisses my wrists repeatedly, placing his affection on each and every scar that I had put there. He does this every day, showing me that where I had been made me who I am now. "I love you as you are," he always tells me.

I kiss his lips again, this time receiving a welcome response. "You've fallen asleep already, the sun isn't even down yet," I scold him.

 "I know, I know. It's been a long day though," he says with a laugh. A long day for him is full of music and time spent with his best friends. A long day is always a good thing in his book, precious memories to hold onto.

"Can you make it a little longer for me?" I ask him. He smiles and buries his face in my hair, nuzzling my neck. "I would do anything for you sweetheart."

So we watch the sun set, and talk about nothing, and everything. We sip tea and munch on cookies. I curl up in his embrace as he puts on an episode of the X-Files. But as the sky grows darker, my eyelids grow heavy. I begin to depart to the dream world, but before I go, I hear him faintly say, "Stay with me forever Y/N. I'll keep you safe. I'll keep you warm. Stay with me because I know, I know, I'll love you forever."

Josh Dun x Reader fic.

I had the idea for this with the intention of turning it into something happy…and now this…oops. 

Might make it a series, don’t know how many parts yet. Enjoy. 

Warnings: Panic attacks, anxiety, little bit of depression. 

There are happy bits, I promise. I’m not sure about it so let me know what you think! 

My pulse thrummed in my ears. 

Ba bum

Ba bum

I couldn’t seem to catch my breath, my lungs straining with the effort. The world tilted and I had to catch myself against the wall.

Ba bum

I bent over, placing my hands on my knees while trying to take deep breaths. 

“I have to get out of here.” Lifting my head I glanced around. The throng of people rushing around me was suffocating. Everything was just a little too bright and just a little too loud. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, I was supposed to have control of this. I hadn’t had an episode in months, and yet here I was, fire in my lungs and cold sweat on my skin. 

I sprinted from the academic building, dodging strange glances and backpack wearing bodies. 

Ba bum

Clamping my jaw down tight, unwilling to let the nausea take over, I stumbled through campus, blind as to what my direction was. A few passerby’s asked after my well-being, clearly reading the distress on my face, but I shrank away from them, the human contact making my panic worse. 

When I finally found a quiet place with a lack of people, I found that I was in the botanical gardens. The blooms were full and dewy, reaching for the midmorning sun. I planted myself next to a bed of pink flowers, not sure what kind they were, and forced myself to breath. In and out, in and out. I reminded myself of the advice my therapist had given me, trying to turn my negative thoughts into positive ones, all the while taking deep breaths. 

I wasn’t sure what had caused this one. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the stress of midterm exams coming up. I hadn’t been eating properly lately, maybe that was it. Maybe I was dehydrated. I wasn’t really sure, but then again, I never really was in this situation. Sometimes they just happened, coming over me like a sudden storm. 

My pulse began to slow as I sat there with my face cupped in my hands. Breathing became easier, the nausea subsided. When I felt as if the worst of it was over, I allowed myself to take in my surroundings. I had rushed into the gardens without taking anything in. The place was vibrant with color and the perfumed air was sweet and inviting. How had I managed to go through half the school year without meandering through?  It was full and lush and absolutely stunning. The kind of garden that would bring about whimsical daydreams. 

Cobblestoned paths traversed lazily through the oasis. Small tufts of grass poking up between the stones waved hello. I wandered along, taking in the scenery, glad that I could finally breathe deeply. I allowed myself to run my hand along the blooms as I walked, the dew from their morning watering wetting my fingers. 

When I stopped to sniff a rose, I became aware of the sound of rhythmic beating. Confused, I followed my ears to the sound, going deeper into the maze of flowers by doing so. 

Turning a corner by a patch of sunflowers, I saw a guy sitting on a wooden box, slapping his palms and tapping his fingers against the sides, creating a deep and rhythmic beat. I wasn’t entirely surprised to see him, with his piercings and tattoos, this school was full of artists and creative types, but I did find it a little strange that he was playing his box-drum-thing in the middle of a garden. 

He didn’t notice me at first, not glancing up until I was standing in front of him. He was lost in his music, bouncing his legs and head along with it. Watching him was mesmerizing. He gave off such a happy energy while he drummed that it made me want to move too. So, while he continued playing, I began to dance. 

I had come to this school as a dance major, finding that I was able to forget about everything else when I focused on my fluid movements. Dancing was an escape, a vacation from the everyday. Like going south for the winter. I was no longer the timid anxious girl chilled to the bone with fear. Instead, I was warm beaches and lazy waves. I was a gentle breeze or a bubbling brook. Dancing brought out my true self, the person that I was when I wasn’t so insecure. 

The colorful boy continued to drum, keeping me in time while he watched me. He didn’t seem to mind me joining him, and I was grateful for a reason to dance. 

It felt good to move my limbs, shrugging off the tightness that had occurred during my attack. I twirled and leapt and glided in front of him, the yellow from the sunflowers filling my vision, the beat of his drum resounding in my ears. A light feeling in my chest made me feel like I could take flight. A fairy in a garden of sunshine.  

When my muscles began to burn, and sweat slicked my skin, and my heart was filled with joy, the boy brought the song to an end. 

I posed, completing my dance, panting, but smiling a mile wide. When I turned to look at him, a huge grin was spread across his face, mirroring mine. “That was amazing,” was all he said. 

“Thank you.” I took a few more gulps of air. “I really needed that. I’m glad I heard you drumming.” 

He stood from his box, lifting his backwards facing cap for a moment to run a hand through his hair. My eyes widened at the sight of the brightly colored strands, but I didn’t comment on it. The color suited him somehow. He was as unique as the flowers that surrounded us.  

“Yeah I normally try and find places away from people so that my playing doesn’t disturb their class or their studying. Plus I really like flowers, so I tend to come here.” He waved a hand, acknowledging their surroundings. 

 I liked that he wasn’t afraid to admit that he enjoyed flowers, secure in his masculinity. Why shouldn’t boys like flowers? “This is my first time here actually. I just needed to get away and I somehow ended up here.” 

“Oh, are you alright?” his voice full of concern. 

I turned to him in surprise, “What?”

“Are you okay? You said you needed to get away, and when I feel like that…” he trailed off. 

“Oh..” I shuffled nervously, “Yeah, I’m alright. I managed.”

He gave me a tight lipped smile and a sympathetic look. He knew what I was talking about.

I held my hand out towards him, wanting to change the subject, “I’m Y/N.”

“Josh,” he said, grasping my hand. His hand was warm and large, the hint of callouses scratched against my skin. They must have formed from practicing his art. 

“Nice to meet you, Josh. I like your box-drum. It sounded really nice.” 

He chortled, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck, displaying the colorful tattoos along his arm. “Hey thanks. It’s a cajon. Easier than carrying a kit around.” He punctuated that with another small laugh.  

“I can imagine,” I giggled. Josh looked at me then, his hooded brown eyes alight with something I couldn’t quite place. Excitement maybe? The rush from playing still running through him? I smiled back at him with my own version of excitement. 

“Hey, you’re a really great dancer.” Josh told me with a blush. 

“Oh, thank you,” I could feel my own cheeks beginning to burn. “I’m sorry for barging in on your little pow wow for one, there.”

Josh shook his head, “Oh, no don’t worry. I mean, that’s what music is for right? For people to feel something?”  

I nodded in agreement. I liked Josh, he seemed easygoing and relatable. Not to mention, he was easy on the eyes. 

“Well, I better get to class.” I stated abruptly, feeling suddenly nervous. “I’ve probably missed some of it already…” I didn’t feel like bringing up my incident, knowing that was the reason that I was late. He seemed to be aware of it anyway.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” he nodded. “Thanks for the dance session. I’ll see you around?”

“Sure,” I agreed, giving him a little wave goodbye.

I headed to the academic buildings after finding my way out of the garden, feeling more comfortable that I had when I entered. 

The next couple of days were uneventful. I slipped into my easy routine of classes, eating, and sleeping. I kept to myself mostly, finding it hard to open up to my peers. There were times when I saw Josh while walking around campus. He was always with a group of guys, either skateboarding or playing music together. Sometimes I saw him with just one other guy who had short brown hair and black band tattoos on his arm. They seemed to spend the most time together. It must be nice, having a best friend. 

Whenever I saw Josh, I would wave, and he would always wave and give me a huge smile back. His buddies would laugh and jostle him around when they saw the interaction. I didn’t really know why.

I passed my dancing midterms, the teacher telling me that I was one of her top students. When I called my mom about it, she showered me with support to the point that I was drunk on happiness. But after I hung up, the feeling faded and I began to instead feel gloomy, not having anyone else to share my accomplishment with. I wondered that, if I told Josh about it, he would get as excited as I had been. 

My gloom seemed to settle in more and more as the days dragged by. Dancing didn’t even seem to hold the same amount of appeal. I wondered what was wrong with me, but my therapist just suggested that I try and make some friends. Get out more. Try. The thought terrified me. How do you just walk up to people and create a friendship? Is that how people do it? “Hey I’m so and so, let’s be friends?” “Oh sweet, come sit new buddy.”

I don’t think so. 

So instead, I let myself slip further and further into this isolation until it all bubbled up again in another attack. 

I had been fine. I was just walking to dance class, like I do every day. But then I started to notice all the happy faces, all the friends that laughed and walked together, and I started getting hot, my stomach twisting into knots. I tried to just breathe, to calm down, but I couldn’t. So I ran. 

Ba bum