Josh Dun imagines

Understand (smut and trigger warning)

Josh Dun imagine

You poked at the food on your plate with the prongs of your fork, not that hungry. You've stopped eating lately, mostly because you didn't feel like it, but also because you decided you might want to lose a couple pounds, because hey, why not? You didn't like what you saw in the mirror, and you wanted to change that. You hated yourself. Not just that, but life was getting too much to handle. You were being pestered by your parents with chores, annoyed by your siblings, and your friends at school had been particularly moody lately. You weren't really sure what was going on, but you didn't like it. It also had a negative effect on you, because not eating was the least of your worries. There were much bigger problems you didn't want to deal with. "Not eating, honey?" your mom wondered, a concerned expression on her face. "Come on, you're getting a little thin."
"I'm fine," you sighed, reluctantly taking a bite. "I had a little more to eat for lunch today." That was a lie, you actually didn't eat anything. You told your friends in the cafeteria that you had a large breakfast, which again, you didn't.
"You sure?" your dad pressed. "I haven't seen you eat lately."
"I already told you, I'm not hungry. I'm fine," you repeated.
"Okay," your mom sighed. "Well anyways, my friend Linda is going out of town for a couple days and she was wondering if we could take care of her son while she's gone. He's about your age, y/n. He's very sweet and I hear he plays the drums, isn't that cool? His name is Josh. I told her we'd be more than happy to keep him for a little while. He can stay in the guest room and-"
"What?" you asked.
"Excuse me?" your mom inquired.
"We're inviting a boy to spend a couple nights at our house?" you narrowed your eyes. "A boy we don't even know?"
"Y/n!" your mother raised her voice. "You need to be positive about this. You can make a friend."
"Friend?" you scoffed. That's just what you needed, another problem to add to your list. What were you going to do with a boy living in your house for a couple days?
"Change your attitude right now, young lady," your father snapped. "And eat your food."
"So what?" you challenged, earning a smirk from your siblings. "I can't have an opinion in this household anymore? Is that such a crime?"
"Stop it!" your mom shouted. "Josh is coming over tomorrow to spend a couple nights with us and that is final. It's not your decision, it's mine, and I've already said yes to the offer. Understand me?"
"Yeah," you grumbled.
"Now eat your food," your mom demanded.
You mumbled a string of profanities under your breath, begrudgingly swallowing down your food, your siblings chuckling at you as you did so. Your parents glared, but you couldn't care in the least. You had a million problems already and to top it all off, there was going to be a fucking boy your age that you didn't even know staying at your house. You went to bed that night, unable to sleep. Whoever that boy was, what was his name, Jonah or Jacob or Josh or something, you hated him already. He was ruining your life. You didn't want to meet him. You didn't want him to spend several days at your house. And you didn't want to be friends. He was just one more problem to your very long list. Or so you thought.
The next day when you got home from school, the entire house was clean. Your parents had made the place look spotless just for this guy, and it made you sick. Just wait until he figures out what a mess your family really is, then he'll want to leave for good. You had brainstormed all day long, thinking that maybe if you avoided him and never came out of your room, then you wouldn't have to interact. That'd be acceptable right? Maybe he'd think you didn't even exist. So you were in your room, testing out the plan, when the doorbell rang and your mom shouted your name. Looks like you'd have to try a different time. You trudged down the steps, your entire family waiting for you until they opened the door. It was ridiculous, like a family long awaiting their solider to get home from war, and you thought it was overkill. Why did everyone have to greet him when he entered? Everything just made you hate this dude more and more.
That's when the door swung open and Linda, your mom's friend, greeted you all with a grin, a boy about your age standing behind her. Every single thought you ever had about this boy was wiped away when you locked eyes with him. He was wearing a gray snapback hat with dyed red hair peeking out, a camouflage jacket, ripped jeans, sneakers, and black gages in his earlobes, which made your lips curl up at the sides into a smile. "Hey," he waved hesitantly.
"Come in. Welcome!" your mom grinned, hugging Linda as your dad helped carry his bags inside. "Don't be scared. You guys come inside. We won't bite, I promise." Your siblings grabbed some stuff, them taking it to the guest room. Your mom and Linda carried on a conversation on a couch, while you and Josh stood by the closed door, still looking awkwardly at each other.
"Hi," you finally decided to speak. "I'm y/n."
"Josh," he replied. "You like Panic! at the Disco?"
"Huh?" you raised an eyebrow.
"Your shirt," he laughed. You looked down, forgetting you were wearing a band shirt today, and then looked back up at him.
"Yeah," you grinned. "I love them."
"Me too," he nodded. "I really like music. I play drums."
"Neat," you commented. "Do you watch TV shows?"
"Definitely," his eyes lit up. "I'm obsessed with The X-files."
"I've watched a couple," you admitted. "It's pretty good."
"A couple?" he chuckled. "You should watch them all."
"Well I get a little scared sometimes," you confessed. "I usually have to watch with someone else."
"I'll watch with you," he decided. "I mean uh, if you want to, if that's okay."
"That sounds great," you reassured. "I'd love to."
"Awesome," he smiled.
"Hey kiddo, you'll be staying in the guest room tonight," your dad announced, walking towards you two. Your dad gave you a quick glance, probably confused why one minute you loathed him and now you were grinning at him, but you ignored it. "It's across from y/n's room. You want to show him?"
"Sure," you shrugged. "Come on."
You led him down the hallway, opening the door and revealing his bags set on the edge of the bed, the freshly cleaned guest room available for him to stay in. "So you're across the hall?" he clarified.
"Yeah, in case you need anything," you replied. "You can just knock on my door and I'll answer it."
"Cool," he nodded his head slowly.
"So you don't go to my school?" you inquired.
"Nope, I'm on the other side of town," he explained.
"Oh okay," you responded. "You like school?"
"Eh, it's okay I guess," Josh answered. He glanced at the clock, noticing it was getting a little late. "So, how's your family with rules? Strict or lenient?"
"If you're me then they're strict," you rolled your eyes. "But if you're one of my siblings, then rules don't even exist."
"How come? Are you a rebel or something?" he teased.
"Nah, they just hate me," you sighed.
"Sorry to hear that," he frowned. "I can agree."
"Really?" you raised your eyebrows. "My mom said you were a good kid."
"Good kid?" he scoffs. "My parents threatened to send me to military school."
"Seriously?" you widened your eyes.
"Not even joking," he admitted. "I was scared to death."
"That would've been terrifying," you agreed.
"Hey guys," your dad knocked on the door. "Time to go to bed. It's almost midnight. Get some sleep and you can continue your conversation tomorrow morning. Okay?"
"Okay," you both answered.
"Well it was nice meeting you y/n," Josh smiled. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah," you replied. "Good night." You were halfway out the door when he responded with a surprise.
"Sweet dreams," he laughed.
"You too," you chuckled.
You got dressed in your pajamas, brushed your teeth, combed your hair, and laid down in bed, thinking of everything that happened. You hadn't imagined him to be like that. You thought of Josh as a snotty, stupid, stuck up asshole teenage boy who was a jerk. You thought he'd be wearing shorts and a jersey, gelled back fancy hair and a fuckboy grin. You didn't expect what was currently across the hallway. The dyed hair, camo jacket, gages, sneakers, and ripped jeans caught you by surprise. You liked it, a lot. You couldn't get him out of your head. It was his face and his smile and his laugh and his voice and the way he told you sweet dreams and everything about him. It drove you crazy. It was strange to think that yesterday you couldn't sleep because you were hating on him, and now you couldn't sleep because you were crushing on him. You wondered what else was in store for the rest of his stay.
The next morning you woke up and got ready, going out and seeing Josh eating a bowl of cereal at the kitchen table. "Good morning, beautiful," he greeted. Did he just call you beautiful? What the fuck. Your mind did a double take and then decided no, that was just your brain playing tricks on you, and then walked past him.
"Hey Josh," you grinned. "Get a good sleep last night?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "How about you?"
"I guess," you shrugged. You looked at the time and then began to walk away when he stopped you.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"The bus is coming soon," you explained. "I'm going to wait outside."
"Y/n, there's still fifteen minutes," he narrowed his eyes. "Even I know that."
"So what? Can't I enjoy the beautiful sunrise?" you protested.
"No, you can come enjoy a great conversation with me," he joked.
"Fine," you complied way too easily, walking over and joining him.
"Aren't you going to eat breakfast?" he wondered.
"Nope," you shook your head. "I don't eat breakfast."
"It's the most important meal of the day," he reminded.
"Do you know how many times I've been told that bullshit?" you laughed. "Way too many."
"But won't you get hungry later on in the day?" he pressed.
"Nope," you argued. "I don't get hungry."
"You don't get hungry," he rolled his eyes. "How do you not get hungry?"
"I eat lunch," you lied.
"You eat school lunch?" he widened his eyes. "I'm surprised."
"Whatever," you giggled. "How about you? Do you like to eat a lot?"
"I love eating," he grinned. "Oreos, Red Bull, cereal, doughnuts..."
"For a junk food lover you're in pretty good shape," you commented, trying not to stare at his muscles.
"I work out sometimes," he shrugged. "It's nothing."
"Well I don't work out at all," you confessed. "So you're doing better than I am."
"You're fine," he sighed. "You don't need to. You're great just how you are."
"Yeah right," you scoffed.
"What? You don't think that?" he frowned, taking the last bite of his cereal.
"I'm fine," you just replied quickly, leaving the table and walking outside to wait for the bus. You sat on the steps of the front porch, wondering whether or not he thought you were weird for responding so fast and nervous, but you were. You were nervous. Because although while you might have too many problems to even count, you didn't want Josh to know about a single one of them. For Josh, you wanted to plaster on a smile and let him know you were okay. You wanted to take each ray of sunshine and keep them in the palm of your hand, so you could warm him up whenever he got cold. You wanted to pluck out the stars in the sky and give them to him when it was dark and he couldn't see. You wanted to be there for him, to show him the good things about you, not the bad. You didn't need him seeing your sadness or insecurities or doubt, because you didn't even like seeing them yourself. That's when you realized that maybe it was impossible. How could a problematic girl like you just magically hide everything she hated about herself? It was useless. He would find out somehow. He wouldn't care for someone like you. Much less, it had just been one day. You didn't even know him that well yet. So when the bus pulled up and you didn't even say goodbye to Josh, you didn't feel too guilty. He didn't need a mess like you anyways. You were a fool to think he would even consider giving you a chance.
The entire day at school, Josh was the only thing you could think of. Yeah, you had just met him in one day, but you still could not get him out of your head. He hadn't specified how long his mother would be gone and you were curious what else was going to happen during the rest of the week. You found yourself doodling him in the margins of your notebook paper, accidentally mumbling his name, looking at your surroundings, whether it was ripped jeans or camo print, and thinking immediately of him. You couldn't stop, no matter how hard you could. It wasn't an obsession; it was almost a curse. You could not get this boy out of your head. When you got on the bus and finally got home, you went to your room and knew Josh would be home any minute. You took a deep breath and told yourself it's better to get over him while you can, or else when he leaves you'd be extremely heartbroken. You had to learn to not care. Easy, right?
Not easy. As soon as Josh got home and you saw the smile on his face when you greeted him by the door, you couldn't. You can't just fall in love with someone, yes you knew it was way too quick, and then not care about them the next day. It was like love at first sight, and although you had never believed in that before, you did now. Josh gave you hope, something you hadn't even seen a glimpse of before. "Hey y/n," he grinned, joining you on the couch where you were doing your homework.
"Hi," you smiled. "How'd your day go?"
"Okay I guess," he shrugged. "Was waiting until I could leave though."
"Me too," you agreed.
"How come?" he inquired, and you weren't prepared for that question, because you froze up. How were you supposed to tell him that you were looking forward to seeing him again without giving off the wrong vibe or making a bad move? You couldn't.
"Uh, I was just bored," you murmured. "I had a long day."
"Oh," his face fell, looking somewhat disappointed. You weren't sure why.
"Do you have a lot of homework?" you asked.
"Not really," he shook his head. "I don't even do most of it anyways, so it doesn't matter."
"Josh," you narrowed your eyes.
"What?" he wondered.
"Not doing your homework?" you teased. "No wonder your parents wanted to send you to military school!"
"Oh y/n," he clicked his tongue. "You're such a goody two shoes."
"No I am not," you argued. "I get in trouble all the time."
"Uh huh?" he raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah," you gave a smug smile and crossed your arms. "I do."
"Like what?" he challenged.
"Uh, I got a detention last week," you announced.
"What for?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Well," you stammered. "It was for being late to class."
"Wow, what a rebel. You know, you could go to juvy for that I hear," he joked.
"Oh shut up," you laughed. "Like you'd do something terrible."
"Maybe I would," he hinted.
"Yeah?" you inquired. "Like what?"
"Fist fights," he grinned. "Talking back to teachers."
"You?" you widened your eyes. "No way."
"Yup," he grinned.
"I don't believe it," you shook your head. "You're too-"
"Too what?" he smirked.
"Too..." your voice drifted off. You couldn't call him too nice, or too cute, or too amazing, because then you'd sound like a creep.
"You never finished," he reminded.
"I forgot," you lied.
"No you didn't," he narrowed his eyes. "You know what you were going to say."
"I forgot," you repeated. "Really."
"I don't think so," he persisted, leaning closer, too close.
"What are you doing?" you whispered, him dangerously close to you. Was he going to kiss you?
"I'm going to tickle you until you divulge the information!" he chuckled, tickling your neck.
"Josh!" you squealed, falling onto his lap and trying to regain composure as his fingers grazed your neck and trailed towards your armpits, you bursting out into pure laughter.
"Tell me," he begged, his hands working their way to your stomach.
"Come on," he pleaded, starting to tickle your sides until his fingers touched your ribs and he stopped, just flat out stopped, and pulled away, a concerned look on your face.
"What?" you asked, genuinely confused. One minute he was all giggly and teasing, and now he looked like he just ran over a puppy or found out he had cancer. His face turned sad, but also really concerned, and serious. You've actually never really seen him like this. You sat up, getting up from his lap and his embrace, what the fuck, when were you guys so tangled together, and stared at him. "What happened? What's wrong?"
"You-" he frowned.
"Mm-me?" you stammered. Of course you fucked up. Well that didn't last long at all. "What did I do?"
"Y/n," he murmured your name quietly.
"Can you tell me what's happening?" you questioned. "Because I am thoroughly confused."
He shook his head, blinking a couple times, and then turning to his normal facial expression. "Uh, hold on," he directed. He opened up his bookbag, scrounging around for something, searching in several pockets, before he pulled out a package of...
"Oreos?" you raised your eyebrows. "How come?"
"You need to eat," he explained. He opened up the bag and pulled out a cookie and held it out in front of your lips. "Have an Oreo."
"I don't need an Oreo," you argued and pushed away his hand, only for it to return back to your lips, him pushing it closer to your mouth.
"Y/n," he sighed. "Come on. Please. For me."
"I'm not hungry," you muttered.
"I don't want to hear that phrase ever again," he glared at you and placed the cookie at your lips. "Now eat an Oreo or else I'm going to have to tickle you again."
"Fine," you complied, lurching forward and snatching the cookie out of his hand with your lips, crunching it between your teeth. You chewed and then swallowed, looking at him. "Happy?"
"Yes," he nodded. "Now eat another one."
"Why are you force feeding me Oreos?" you groaned, taking another one and munching on it slowly.
"Don't they taste good?" he wondered.
"Well yeah, they taste great. But that wasn't the question," you reminded. "Come on, Josh."
"You need to eat," he repeated.
"Going to elaborate?" you questioned.
"Nope," he replied. "I don't need to."
"Okay," you rolled your eyes and ate another Oreo. "How many do I have to eat?"
"As many as your heart desires," he grinned.
"Last I checked, my heart didn't desire for any Oreos," you laughed.
"Did it desire for me?" he gave a sly smile.
"What?" you widened your eyes and dropped the Oreo you were holding. Did he really say that?
"What?" he inquired innocently.
"Whatever," you shook your head and decided forget about it, picking up the fallen Oreo off your lap and putting it in your mouth.
"I'm just worried about you," he confessed, wrapping his arms around you tight. "Something's wrong and I want to fix it." Was he fucking hugging you now? What was going on?
"Am, uh, am I the thing that's wrong?" you guessed, and he instantly released the embrace and stared at you confused.
"What? No, absolutely not," he shook his head. "Not at all."
"Then please explain," you begged.
"Eat an Oreo," he ignored your request and shoved another cookie in your face.
"Oreos aren't always going to fix the problem," you narrowed your eyes at him.
"Yeah, I know," he sighed. "But hey, a guy can try, right?"
"Sure," you smiled.
Somehow, between doing your homework and eating Oreos, you had ended up leaning on his lap with the television on, both of you watching The X-Files and sharing a Red Bull. You weren't sure how it had magically happened, but it did, and you weren't going to take this moment for granted. You also were unsure what had caused Josh to say that to you, to act that way, to tell you those things, but you decided maybe it was just a little bit of luck or something. You had Josh's arms wrapped around you, several episodes watched by now, and all the Oreos gone and empty Red Bull can on the ground, when you both slowly drifted off into sleep.
When you woke up, it was because of Josh, and he was laughing. "Come on y/n," he shook you in his arms. "Someone is at the door and I'm pretty sure it's your dad. I don't know how he'd take to walking in seeing us like this."
"Huh?" you wondered, still half asleep.
"Your dad is home," he explained. "If you didn't hear me the first time."
"What?" you leapt up from where you were sitting and Josh chuckled.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," he smirked. "Now come on. I'll throw away the can and you go open the door for your dad."
"What about my mom?" you hissed. "Where is she?"
"I don't know," he shrugged. "I didn't see her walk in."
"Huh. That's odd," you commented before walking to the door and opening it up for your dad.
"Hey," he grinned. "How'd your day go?"
"Fine," you responded.
"Did Josh get dropped off from school?" he inquired.
"Yeah, he did. We both finished our homework," you told him.
"Okay. Your mom's with your siblings at a dentist appointment. She'll be home to cook dinner soon," he informed. "You guys go wash up and then help set the table."
"Got it," you nodded and walked in, glancing at Josh who was sitting on the couch as if nothing ever happened.
You walked to the bathroom, Josh following, and turned on the sink, reaching for the soap. "So..." Josh drew out the word slowly.
"So?" you raised an eyebrow. There was a pause two beats too long.
"Nothing," he shook his head. "Never mind."
"Okay," you eyed him strangely, washing your hands and then going out to the kitchen, him following you still. You noticed your mom and siblings already home and went to the cabinet to get the plates and showed Josh where to get the silverware.
When you all sat down at the table, Josh sat right beside you, and your mom put the food out and the meal began. At first, you couldn't help but feel like Josh was looking at you. It was in between bites of his food or just staring, but his eyes were constantly on you. You weren't sure why. You weren't the prettiest, or the best looking, and you started to think maybe you had something on your face, but you pushed away the thoughts in your head and decided it was just your brain making things up again.
After dinner, your mom assigned you to wash the dishes and asked Josh to take out the trash. Your parents and siblings went to bed, and you were in the middle of scrubbing some forks when you felt two arms wrap around your waist from behind and you jumped. "Hey," he whispered in your ear. Of course it was Josh.
"What are you doing?" you inquired, tilting your head up and looking at him. He had awfully gorgeous eyes.
"Are you tired?" he wondered.
"Nope," you shook your head, rinsing off some spoons as Josh picked up a towel and started to help drying off silverware. "How about you?"
"I'm wide awake," he grinned. "I want to show you something later, if that's okay with you."
"Uh, yeah. Sure," you replied.
"Cool," he smiled, drying off a plate. You were still washing dishes. "Meet me in my room after you're done."
"Okay," you answered. What did he want? You had no clue.
You watched him walk away and quickly finished up your chores, drying off your hands with a towel and then walking down the hallway and knocking on his door. "Come in," he called, and you did. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his phone, earbuds in.
"What's up?" you asked.
"Ever heard of a band called The Killers?" he inquired.
"Absolutely," you rolled your eyes. "Who hasn't?"
"I want you to hear this song," he insisted. He plucked out an earbud from his ear and you sat beside him, putting it in and waiting for him to play the song. The intro played and you recognized the song immediately.
"Mr. Brightside," you smiled. "I know this one."
"Yeah?" he raised an eyebrow.
"I like it," you told him. "It's one of my favorites."
"Do you listen to them a lot?" he wondered.
"Sometimes," you shrugged. "Can I show you another one by them?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Of course."
"It's called Human," you explained as the song began to play. He glanced at you with a smile as the first verse began. "What?"
"Nothing," he shook his head.
"You like it?" you asked.
"It's good," he told you.
"So you said you liked Panic! At The Disco?" you inquired. "Remember? When we first met?"
"Yeah," he laughed. "I remember. You had that super cool t-shirt."
"Have you heard of Northern Downpour?" you asked.
"I think so," he nodded. "Hold on. Let me play it."
"Okay," you smiled. He searched for the song and when he played it, you instantly felt the wave of nostalgia wash over you. It was one of those songs. The slow, bittersweet, favorite ones you always loved to listen to when you fell asleep. You caught him staring at you again. "What? You want to dance or something?"
"Sure," he smiled. Wait, what? You were joking.
"Really?" you raised an eyebrow, serious this time.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Let's dance."
You got up off the bed, both of you, one earbud for the both of you as the slow guitar began to play, the sweet slow melody of the chorus making you smile, and you found one of his hands on your hip and the other in your hand, leaning on his shoulder, swaying back and forth. "Do you do this often?" you whispered.
"Nah," he shook his head. "Only for you."
"Well that's nice," you blushed.
"I don't usually dance," he informed. "So you're lucky."
"Am I now?" you looked up at him, his eyes meeting yours. He kissed your forehead lightly, pulling away, leaving you sort of happy but sort of shocked. Did he just-
"I'm starting to think I'm the lucky one though," he smiled.
You stared up into his eyes, your heart fluttering as you rested your head against his shoulder again, taking a deep breath and swaying back and forth again. You didn't want this to end. You felt safe here, you felt comfortable, and you felt loved. It was a strange feeling, almost fuzzy and warm, and it was unfamiliar to you. Hell, you'd take it while you could. The song began to fade out, and you wondered if you'd still keep dancing, but as soon as the extremely loud intro to Memories began and startled you both, backing away from each other, the earbud falling out of your ear and both of you laughing, you heard a knock on the door. You both stared, your dad opening up the door and looking at you both, a certain look of confusion on his face. "Um, I believe it's bedtime," he stated uncomfortably. "Y/n should go to her room now."
"Okay, sorry," Josh apologized.
"It's fine," your dad shook his head. "It's just late. You both have school tomorrow. You should get some rest."
"Yeah," Josh nodded.
You gave Josh a quick glance, sort of embarrassed but also sad that it had to come to an end, and followed your dad out the door. "Goodnight," you whispered before you left his room.
"Sweet dreams," he winked. "I'll see you tomorrow."
You went to your room, getting dressed in your pajamas and brushing your teeth, staring in the mirror. Could you believe it? He had kissed your forehead. He had danced with you. What the fuck? You couldn't stop grinning, going to your bed and pulling up the sheets, and surprisingly, for the first time in forever, you were able to go to sleep as soon as you shut your eyes.
You woke up and walked outside, yawning and getting ready to get to school. When you walked into the kitchen, Josh was already there, eating his usual cereal and looking at you. "Hi," you smiled.
"Hey," he grinned. "Good morning."
"Are you going to force me to eat breakfast?" you groaned.
"You bet," he laughed.
"Should I bother arguing or would I just be wasting my time?" you sighed, sitting beside him.
"Unless you want to get tickled again," he joked.
"Fine. Hand me the cereal," you rolled your eyes and set a bowl in front of you.
"That's what I like to see," he chuckled, handing you the box. You poured yourself a bowl and thought how peculiar it was to eat breakfast. You honestly couldn't remember the last time you did. It had to have been several years now. And to think, that all of a sudden, one boy that you've only known for probably two or three days had already changed your ways. "What are you smiling about?"
"Huh?" you looked up, not realizing you were smiling at all.
"You were grinning like an idiot," he chuckled.
"Oh, I didn't notice," you shrugged.
"What were you thinking about?" he inquired again.
"I don't know," you smirked.
"Don't make me tickle you," he threatened.
"Goddammit Josh," you groaned, taking a bite of your cereal and trying not to laugh.
The bus arrived in no time, and before you knew it, you were back at school, counting down the hours until you could see his face again. It felt like a million years. Every time you thought about so much as just seeing him, you couldn't help but smile. Yeah, it distracted you from your schoolwork, and your tests, and every single conversation you had that day, but somehow, you didn't care. It was worth it. Your mind was constantly replaying memories of yesterday, the way he had showed you those songs, how you had danced, how he kissed your forehead. It was all surreal. You had never experienced anything like it before.
When you got home and saw Josh sitting on the couch, you instantly picked up the remote and sat beside him, his arm finding its way around your shoulder naturally. "X-Files?" you wondered.
"Hell yeah," he grinned.
"How did I know?" you joked.
"Great minds think alike," he replied, you easing into his touch and leaning on him as the episode played. You didn't even bother trying to finish your homework tonight, seeing as it was useless, and Josh didn't even bother opening up his book bag either. Well, you took that back. He did open his book bag once, but that was so he could take out his new bag of Oreos, saved just for you. You were both almost finished with season one, and you were about to start the second season when he plucked the remote out of your hand and tossed it on the floor.
"Fuck, this isn't a game of fetch," you narrowed your eyes at him.
"Shut up," he laughed. "That's not what I was doing."
"Then what were you doing?" you gave a sly smile.
"Well..." he took a deep breath. "I've been meaning to tell you something."
"You have?" you inquired.
"Yeah," he nodded. "For a while now. I know we just met, and this might come out a little awkward or strange, but uh, I like you. I like you a lot y/n."
You could've sworn your heart skipped a beat. "You do?" you asked in disbelief.
"I know," he looked away. "It's going too fast and we just met and-"
"No," you interrupted. "I like you too."
"What?" he widened his eyes. "Really?"
"Why do you think I'd dance with you if I didn't like you?" you rolled your eyes. "Why would I eat your Oreos or watch X-Files or cuddle with you on the couch?"
"I don't know. Maybe you felt obligated," he shrugged. "I thought maybe you just did that with every friend that comes to your house."
"My friends and I don't do that," you chuckled.
"So I'm not your friend?" he frowned.
"Well-" you began but he cut in.
"Am I your boyfriend?" he smiled.
"If you want to be," you suggested.
"I'd like that a lot," he grinned. "I'd love that."
"More than X-Files?" you teased. "More than Oreos and Red Bull and Northern Downpour?"
"More than anything in the world," he sighed. "Nothing could replace you."
The doorbell rang and you both jumped away from each other, falling off the couch. You stared at each other for a second before bursting out laughing, and then you raced to the door and opened it for your mom and siblings. "You look happy," your mom commented. "You okay?"
"Yeah," you tried not to blush. "I'm great."
"Well that's different," she raised her eyebrows before entering, your siblings giving you a strange look. Josh was in the kitchen throwing away the empty Oreo bag and your mom started to cook dinner, and you went to your room, laying down on the bed and pretending to do your homework so your parents wouldn't get suspicious.
You watched the door open slightly, Josh walking in and sitting on the edge of your bed, looking around. "You have a nice room," he commented. "I like it."
"Thanks," you laughed.
"You're doing your homework?" he wondered. "Surprising."
"Not really," you confessed. "It just looks like it. I'm actually just thinking."
"About what?" he asked.
"You," you admitted, not even embarrassed or denying it anymore.
"What about me?" he grinned.
"You like me back," you stated. "Nobody's ever liked me back."
"Well they must all be blind," he told you. "Cause if they couldn't see this gem in front of them, then they didn't deserve it."
"Whatever," you rolled your eyes.
"Really," he insisted. "You're beautiful. You're amazing. And if others can't see that, I wish you at least would."
"Why?" you sighed. "Why are you wasting your time with me?"
"What do you mean?" he frowned, a sad look on his face.
"I'm broken," you explained. "I'm full of problems and I'm a burden and I don't understand why you like me. You don't deserve someone like me. You deserve a princess or something."
"Maybe I don't want a princess," he shrugged, taking a lock of your hair and tucking it behind your ear. "Maybe I want you instead."
"Why would anyone want me?" you groaned. "I don't even want me."
"Because you are the best person I've ever met in my life," he told you.
"No I'm not," you shook your head.
"Yes you are," he argued.
"No," you insisted.
"Yes," he narrowed his eyes. "You are."
"No I'm-" you began to say, but he kissed you midsentence, his lips on yours, and your eyes widening and when he pulled away, you staring at him, speechless, unable to even think.
"Yes you are," he stated confidently. "And no matter how hard you might want to try, you can't change my mind y/n."
"Josh," you whispered his name, looking at him confused and relieved and excited and nervous all at the same time.
"I think I might love you," he murmured.
You pulled him closer to you, kissing him again, his lips soft and warm and sweet, and when it was over, you took a breath and looked into his eyes. "Me too," you nodded.
"Josh!" you heard your mom's voice echo in the house. "Can you help me with something?"
"Uh," he ran a hand through his hair, blushing. "I guess that's my cue."
"I'll see you later," you smiled, and he left, you sighing and easing into your pillows, trying to remember what the fuck just happened.
It wasn't long before there was a knock on your door, and your dad was calling for you to come down for dinner. Again, you sat beside Josh, eating silently, and it didn't take but a couple minutes before you felt his hand rest on your knee. Cute. He was your boyfriend now, wasn't he? He was allowed to do that. The idea of having a boyfriend amused you. You had never had a boyfriend before. You stifled a giggle and your dad glanced at you, confused, before dismissing the suspicion and taking a bite of his food again.
After dinner, Josh took out the trash like usual and you washed dishes, receiving clear demands to go straight to bed after you had finished your chores. You guessed your parents didn't appreciate you both staying up yesterday, in the same room, without supervision. You had given Josh a goodnight hug and a kiss on the cheek before going to your room for the night. You took a deep breath, combing your hair, brushing your teeth, taking a shower, and getting dressed in a tank top and pajama pants, slipping underneath the covers, turning off the lights and closing your eyes.
You heard a noise, and you opened up your eyes, curious, then closed them again. It was probably nothing. That's when you heard the soft creak of your door opening, and you opened your eyes and sat up, the door closing, and when you felt a dip in the bed from someone sitting down beside you that's when you came to the realization. "Josh?" you wondered.
"Yeah?" he whispered, slipping underneath the sheets beside you.
"What the hell are you doing?" you hissed with wide eyes, absolutely shocked to hear a reply. "You're supposed to be in the guest room!"
"I am," he laughed. "I'm the guest in the room right now, aren't I?"
"We're going to get in trouble," you argued, his arms wrapping around you and him snuggling up to your body, placing you in his lap, his back leaning against the headboard and your chest pressed up to his.
"Not if we don't get caught," he reminded.
"Fine," you sighed, pulling his head closer to you and wrapping your legs around his waist, kicking off the blankets in the process, the sheets falling off the bed and onto the floor. "Come here." He looked up at you, eyes twinkling within the darkness of your room, and you kissed him, the familiar taste of his lips on yours. You liked this a lot, you didn't want it to end. You pulled away, catching your breath, and he stared into your eyes.
"It's kind of hot in here," he commented. "Mind if I take my shirt off?"
"I wouldn't mind at all," you admitted. "How about I help you?"
Your hands found the bottom hem of his shirt and helped slip it off, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor, kissing him again, his lips trailing down your neck, the hot sensation making you gasp. You pulled your hips closer to his, your heels pressing into his bare back with your legs wrapped around his waist, head tilted up. "Shhh you've got to be quiet baby," he hushed you, still sucking at your neck. "We don't want to wake anyone up now, do we?"
"No," you barely were able to answer.
"Good girl," he nodded, hands finding the bottom of your tank top and slipping it up over your arms. You suddenly felt conscious. He was staring. Probably at your protruding ribs, the way you didn't have the perfect chest, how you looked like a fucking skeleton. He hated you.
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
"What?" his eyes turned soft, worried, concerned.
"I'm not-" your voice caught.
"No," he shook his head. "You're beautiful. You're so fucking beautiful." He took his fingers and traced the outline of your ribs, down to your stomach, holding your hips and pressing his thumbs into your skin softly. He kissed your mouth gently, pulling away and staring into your eyes. "You're perfect, y/n." Somehow, you couldn't believe it. How could he love you? All skin and bones and horrible, terrible, ugly all over. "You're amazing." He reached behind you, rubbing small circles on your back, before unclasping your bra, tossing that off and looking up at you. "You're gorgeous y/n."
"Shut up," you muttered, earning a soft laugh, kissing him again, your hands trailing from his shoulders to his stomach and down to his waist, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, tugging them down and throwing them aside. "Did you lock the door at least?"
"Yeah," he grinned. "I'm not stupid."
"Sure," you rolled your eyes with sarcasm. You pulled him close, kissing him and tugging down his boxers, lips trailing from his mouth to his chest and down, lower and lower, and you heard him moan when you held his dick in your hands.
"Damn y/n," he moaned as you positioned yourself and began to suck him off, your lips moving down his shaft, taking each inch of him into you. He steadied himself, clutching onto the mattress, his taste sweet and salty on your tongue. He was so hard, just for you. You felt him start to shake, and you got nervous. It was your first time doing this, how were you supposed to- but you felt him latch onto your hair, his fingers tugging on your locks. "I'm so fucking close to cumming, you need to stop." Guess that meant no. You slowly pulled away, knowing he was on the edge, careful, and you looked at him, sitting up.
"Why?" you wondered, licking your lips.
"Because we're not even close to done yet, babygirl," he smiled. He pulled you close, kissing you and pressing you onto the bed, rearranging you so that you were laying down, back on the mattress, facing up with him on top of you, lips traveling from your mouth to your breasts. He sucked at one, teeth grazing your nipple, while his hand massaged and squeezed the other, then alternating.
"Holy fuck," you gasped as he began to move lower, pressing light kisses to your stomach and moving lower and lower, starting to feel yourself become wet.
"Just wait," he chuckled. "You haven't seen anything yet."
"What do-" you were about to ask a question but his tongue met your clit and you gasped immediately, tilting your head back and absolute bliss filling your core as he began to eat you out.
"You like that?" he whispered, hot breath on your folds as he inserted his tongue, your fingers tugging on his hair.
"Josh," a moan escaped your mouth as he inserted a finger, pumping it in and out of you. He added another one and you thought you just might orgasm right then and there. "Shit, you're going to be the death of me."
"Don't die yet," he chuckled, pulling his fingers out and sucking your juices off, grinning. "I still need to fuck your delicious pussy, babe."
"Fuck," you caught your breath when you felt him leave, sliding off the bed and searching the pockets of his jeans for a condom, closing your eyes and regaining composure. You were so close, you ached for his touch. You heard the sound of foil tearing, opening your eyes and watching as he pulled the condom over his length, laying on top of you again, the head of his cock at your entrance.
"You sure?" he teased.
"Yes," you begged. "Please I fucking need this, Josh."
"Really?" he wondered, teasing you even more.
"Goddammit Joshua," you muttered, pulling at his shoulders violently as he thrusted into you, and you both gasped, taking a moment to adjust to his size. Holy shit, he felt so good.
"Y/n," he murmured, picking up a steady pace and thrusting faster and faster, each inch sinking deeper inside of you. "You feel so absolutely amazing baby."
"Harder," you insisted, legs wrapping around his waist and arms linked around his shoulders as he slammed you into the mattress, both of you barely able to breathe. Absolute waves of euphoria crashed into you, the feeling absolutely intoxicating, almost losing consciousness. Damn, how was he so good at this?
"I'm gonna cum, babe," he gasped. "Fuck-" his orgasm triggered yours, and you both moaned loudly, unable to control the feeling, and collapsed onto each other in a mix of sweat and hot breath, him pulling out and wrapping you in his arms.
"Holy fucking shit," you sighed, laying your head on his chest.
"You probably woke up everyone in the house, screaming my name like that," he smiled. He ran a hand through your hair. "Such a good girl, aren't you?"
"Dammit," you whispered, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. "Please don't ever go."
"I won't," he promised. "You're so gorgeous y/n. So perfect. You're so beautiful."
"Please don't leave," you mumbled into his bare chest. "Not after this."
"We'll have many more nights, babe," he pressed a kiss on your head. "I won't ever leave."
You felt him get up again, probably throwing away the condom, before picking up the blankets on the floor and rejoining you, wrapping you in his arms and covering you with the sheets. "Thank you," you murmured. "Thank you for loving me."
"Don't thank me," he shook his head. "I'll love you always, y/n. I will love you today and tomorrow and as long as I live. The reason why I told you I love you, even after this short amount of time, is because I care about you. So much. And I've never ever met anyone like you before. You're special. You're wonderful. And I'll love you forever. You are loved. Understand?"
"Yeah," you nodded, drifting off to sleep in his arms. "I understand." And for the first time in your life, you actually did.

Credit to thepatricktreestump on Tumblr