✔ Game Over ( Josh Dun X Reader )

Guns for Hands

You waited until the coast was clear before standing up and brushing off your knees. Josh leaned in to you and placed a slow, passionate kiss on your lips. It was intimate and filled with emotion, causing you to blush uncontrollably as your stomach fill with butterflies. Continuing to kiss, he placed his hand on your hip, your hand naturally rested itself on his tattooed forearm. A solid 5 minutes had gone by, and the atmosphere was still filled with that of love as you two continued making out. The mood faded as a group of young adults walked up to you both, asking for pictures with Josh and autographs. Josh didn't want to shoo them away, so he followed along with their requests. The fans made small talk by stating how much he meant to each of them, telling him which song was their favorite, and so on. You stood beside the car on the other side, your arms resting on the hood of the car with your head supported by your hands as you watched it unfold. A smile plastering your face at how much of an inspiration he was. An idea popped in your mind from seeing the fans wait to meet him. Making your way around the hood of the car, you stood in line with the fans, waiting your turn to "meet" him. Josh looked over at you with curiosity as to what your plan was. When it came your time to see him, you put yourself back in your original shoes of who Josh Dun originally was to you before becoming friends and having him now be your boyfriend.

"Thank you for everything," you began, Josh quickly realizing what you were doing. "I couldn't have done it or made it this far in life with out you or the music you helped create. According to Google Play Music I've played to Guns for Hands over 300 times...I listen to it when I'm suicidal," you lightly laughed as you were semi-embarassed of sharing such information.

Josh's heart felt heavy as his eyes as he gave you a sympathetic look, gently rubbing your back. "You listened to it when you didn't want to live anymore?"  he asked. You nodded while breaking eye contact and looking at the pavement of the club parking lot.

"Over 300 times," you muttered while tears began to form in your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N ," Josh said, wrapping his arms around you to hug you tightly. He felt his eyes replicating yours with his tears. You cried into his chest softly, him  placing his hand on the back of your head to cradle you as he held you against him.

"I owe you my life," you said in short gasps in between tears. Wrapping your arms around Josh's torso, you felt something hit your bicep that was wet.

"Is it raining?" you said looking up at the sky, catching sight of Josh's face when he slightly laughed at your remark. His head hung low, and there were tears that had  fallen down his cheeks. You mistaked one that landed on you as being a rain drop.

"Oh, Joshie," you said, lips trembling and your voice cracking at the sight. You took your finger tips and wiped away his tears, cupping his face in your hand as he had done with you earlier. Mocha eyes met with your [your eye color] ones. He was so perfect even when crying.

"You give me purpose," he whispered. It took you aback, almost making you nauseous. Hearing words like that coming from someone you looked up to, and would do anything for. Your blood felt like it had turned to electricity as it flowed through your body. Your skin covered in goosebumps once again from him, and every last doubt or insecurity you once held in your head melted away in an instant. It was like depression never knew your face, as though it never crossed paths with you and your mind. Josh standing in your presence was enough to suffice as a physical, warm, human anti-depressant. An anti-depressant you never needed to adjust, change, or control. He was the cure for all things toxic whether past, present, or future. You could feel the earth spin on its axis with him, and your heart flutter anytime you saw his face. God, his face.

Perfect brown eyes that captivated you at every glance, a smile that made your head spin. The way his smile formed. The cute little giggle he made when he found something funny, or how he even said your name. The way he cared for you more than anyone, and ensured you were taken care of at every turn. Physically, hygienic, mentally, sexually, e v e r y t h i n g.

"How do I get that kinda fan experience!" someone screamed from the line.

"He's gotta girlfriend," you shouted back, bumping the side of your hip to his. Both of you giggled and smiled before you sat inside in the passenger seat of the car, your heart almost beating out of your chest. You never took ecstasy before, but if you had, surely it'd replicate any moment you were by him.

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