#songwriter!reader

the drums were too loud, the backup vocals weren't in harmony with the lead singers - whose voice for the record, was excruciatingly bad - and the bass was a hair out of tune, which was arguably worse then it being entirely out of tune.

and the lyrics...don't even get me started on the lyrics.

of course, lemonhead - the band you had been hired to write this song for - hadn't taken your suggestions. they picked and chose which lines they liked, which would've been fair, if they hadn't entirely dismissed you otherwise, or if the lines they had chosen of yours were put in the right places.

"your practiced indignance" and "rock you up and down" didn't exactly fit like two puzzle pieces.

this was maybe the hardest thing you had ever had to sit through.

you weren't sure how you were supposedly the only one in the room who could recognize that this was garbage - except for the sound tech, who was wincing every now and then when the vocals began to strain. the rest of lemonhead were bopping their head, clearly unaware of how insanely horrible their song was.

when the painful 3:45 seconds passed, silence ensued for a moment. the lead singer, mikey, turned towards you, grinning like a fool. "good, huh?"

you faked a smile, nodding, not even able to form words. "mhm," you grit out.

not being able to detect your mistruth, he gleamed. "i mean, i'm 'thinkin' this is radio worthy."

"totally, man," the bassist agreed with wide eyes. "breakout record!"

you let out a fake laugh and gave them a tight lip smile, quickly excusing yourself and exiting the room.

you didn't want to be unprofessional, but you couldn't sit through this anymore - not after all the other failed studio sessions.

lemonhead wasn't the problem. it was you.

something that was difficult to admit, but true. you were too picky, too particular. it wasn't because you were pretentious and thought you were better than every single artist you worked with. you just worked better solo.

the issue was that a lot of the time, artists wanted you on as a collaborator, not as the sole writer, and that just never produced your best work.

maybe that did make you pretentious, but you didn't have it in you to care. you were a good fucking songwriter, and you worked better alone.

you pushed open the glass doors after throwing a tight lipped smile to the man sitting behind the front desk, the early fall new york air blowing in your face.

you pull your hair out of your ponytail, sighing out roughly as it falls past your shoulders. your pace is quick as you approach the nearest cafe, a quaint and near empty space with the lingering aroma of espresso beans and jazz music humming softly in the background. speedily ordering your coffee, you grab the cup and find a seat by the window, glancing out at the lower manhattan scene as you sipped on the drink.

you resist the urge to reach for the pack of marlboros in your bag - a nasty habit you had picked up after moving to the big city from the small town you had called home. emphasis on called.

you weren't sure if that was something you would ever really feel.

you felt too frustrated to even pull out your notepad, something you would usually do during your free time. scribble out lyrics or phrases along the lines, biting on the back of your pen as you contemplated the next words.

you feather your eyes shut, a headache coming on as your head fell to your hand propped up on the table.

there were only so many failed studio sessions that could occur before you started to worry about your livelihood. it felt as if you had encountered all the good artists in new york at this point, that there was no one else left to work with.

you sigh heavily, reaching down into your bag to bring out your notebook, forcing yourself to let your eyes run across the words written hastily across the lines.

it had been six months since you were proud of the word produced by your lyrics. six. fucking. months.

after downing the rest of your coffee, you take your usual root back to the little apartment in the west village you called home: taking the 6 up to bleecker, and walking 5 blocks west.

you climb the stairs up to your apartment, huffing as you slide your shoes off, pressing the one button on your landline before flopping onto your bed.

your apartment was small but cozy, lucky for the rent given the amount of windows it had, as well as its view of the streets below and the fire escape.

the living area was pretty cramped, and it only had one bedroom, but it felt like you, and that was nice.

"hey, its me, nancy..." you heard the soft voice of your friend through the speakers of the phone, causing you to sit up.

"i had something i wanted to talk about, but, uh, your clearly not home," she lets out a soft giggle. "so, um, call me when you get a chance. ok, bye."

her voice cuts off with a beep and you stand to your feet, furrowing your brows as you walk back over to the machine, typing in her number to call her back.

the phone rings three times before you hear her pick up, sounding a bit breathless. "hey!"

"hi nance," you hum softly. "whats up?"

she pauses. "can you meet for dinner tonight?"

✭

nancy picked one of her favorite restaurants in soho for you two to meet, an american-italian fusion that had ample seating on the street - something she knew the two of you both enjoyed as people watchers.

you had met nancy your freshman year at emerson, a solid six years ago, the two of you both a lot more wide-eyed and beady then you are now. you had almost immediately hit it off, forming a quick bond that resulted in you both ditching your former dorm-mates and opting to room with each other for the following years.

while nancy had gone into journalism, you had gone into the music industry - both career paths that had been determined long before you met each other.

you and nancy, while holding many similarities, were so incredibly different that at first glance, had many people wondering how you were even friends at all.

nancy was a bit more delicate initially. not that she wasn't strong willed, she was, but she portrayed herself as more soft-spoken.

while nancy was more quietly self assured, you were almost the opposite. you had often been told you were outspoken, never holding back when someone crosses you or the ones you loved.

and nancy was one of the those people.

the girl across from you sat her glass white wine down on the table in front of her, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ears as she looked out onto the street. you took a drag from the cigarette between your middle and pointer finger, arching your brow over at her.

"not that i'm not happy to see you, but you said you had something to talk about, so...what is it?"

she hums, nodding. "yes, of course," she shifts in her seat to sit straighter, looking back over at you. "so, you remember my boyfriend jonathan, right?"

you nod, recalling the lanky brunette boy nancy had introduced to you just a few months ago, after he had made the move from a small town in indianna where the two hailed from to the city. apparently he had gone to nyu, so the move wasn't too chaotic.

"yeah, of course," you responded lightly, stubbing out the the cigarette in the ash tray in between the two of you, leaning back in your seat. the faint sounds of chatter surrounded you, a breeze in the air causing you to clutch your sweater closer to your body.

"did i tell you he's in a band?"

you raise your brows. "oh, no. thats cool," you lean forward, resting your elbows on the table. "what kind of music do they make?"

her eyes sparkle as she leans in passionately. "its kind of like soft-rock. think like the eagles-meet-van halen-meet-U2."

you smile, humming thoughtfully. "really? huh, that sounds cool. what does he play?"

her cheeks flush as she waves her hand out. "well, hes not really in the band, hes their manager. and photographer, i guess? but, i mean, they're good, like really good."

you tilt your head. "really?"

"mhm," she nods proudly. "they're doing mostly covers right now and small gigs, but i just have this feeling. do you ever get that with anyone you work with? like, you know you've struck gold?"

your gaze moves up thoughtfully as you consider her question. "once or twice, i guess"

she leans further forward, making sure you were looking into her eyes as she smiled at you. "these guys are one in a million."

you read the sincerity in her eyes, then tilt your head. "you want me to write for them."

she pauses, then nods sheepishly. "yeah. i do. like i said, they're mostly doing covers right now while they're discovering their sound, but they need some more originals."

you sigh, pursing your lips before reaching over for your own glass of wine. "i dunno, nance," you say apprehensively.

"just hear me out, ok?" she offers softly, yet firmly. "they're good. really really good. and i feel like they need someone like you to shape them up."

you glance at her warily. "you know i've had a rough time recently, nance. i dont know if im willing to gamble on new names, or if i have it in me to shape anyone up."

"i understand," she nods softly. "but i promise you they're are worth it. think of it as a favor, and if it goes horribly, than i owe you for life."

your lips tilt up, your head shaking softly. "nance-"

"one song," she interrupts firmly. "you write one song with them and if you hate it and it sucks, you never have to do it again."

you contemplate, running the idea through your head. one song wasn't so bad. but if it went wrong, it wasn't really like you could actually wipe your hands of them. nancys boyfriend was their manager, and if nancy was asking, it meant he was pretty invested in them. that could potentially be awkward if he ended up feeling offended at your aversion.

and it was a risk. what if you invested too much in them for it to not work out? for them to sink? that could set you further back then you were already.

it was a risk. but you maybe a risk was what you needed?

nancy sees your struggle so she reaches into her purse, pulling out a tape and handing it to you. "these are all their originals. its only three songs, but this will give you a feel. listen to these tonight and call me tomorrow with the answer."

shit. nancy always wins.

you give in, nodding as you took the tape and tucked it into your black handbag. "alright, alright. i will. no promises, nance, im serious," you say sternly, but your eyes crinkle slightly under the weight of your smile.

she agrees, humming into her wine glass, but the smile on her lips and the twinkle in her eyes told you she though she knew something you didn't, like whatever was in that tape was about to prove every hesitation you had wrong.

✭

later that night you were sat on your fire escape, the window between it and the interior of your apartment wide open.

the shelf under the window pane held your cassette player, and before entering the tape you pause for a moment unknowingly, before sliding it in and pressing play.

the steady beats of the drums fill in, the bass filing in not long after. you start tapping your finger on the windowsill along to the music, eyes unfocussed as you took in the instrumentals.

so far it was good.

you could tell it was catchy, the influence a bit more alternative then the mainstream radio, but that was more your vibe anyways.

when the lyrics started flowing in, that was when your whole body went still.

the mans voice was soft yet sharp, the warmth yet vitriol behind his words filling your chest.

"had you a lifetime ago, feels sour when i sink in,"

"fill me up, spit me out, you know i'll always take it,"

"reel me in, and throw me out, i'll sink or swim, who cares?"

something about it was touching you in a way that music or lyrics hadn't touched you before. it wasn't just the words - it was him. whoever this vocalist was, the way he sang with his whole soul dripping through each word had you captivated and on the edge of your seat, waiting eagerly for the next line.

it was magic.

such an upbeat song having such devastating lyrics wasn't something you had thought of before, let alone encountered. you thought maybe even you could learn a thing or two from this guy, whoever he is.

the song fades out, rolling onto the next one. the upbeat tone didn't falter, in fact, it increased.

this song felt like it was made out of sunshine. as you listened on, you could imagine each member of the bands smiles as they played - in fact, you could hear it his voice.

you quickly came to the conclusion that his man was the lead singer, though this track featured the occasional backing of a raspy female voice.

this one seemed to be about love - but not romantic love - friendship and platonic love.

"think you're pretty cool, you should stay a while, would you run around with me?"

"we could be pirates, we could be kings, you choose, thats fine with me."

you could imagine the band playing live, dancing and jumping around as they played this one, the adoration pouring through. you could even imagine the audience doing the same, embracing their friends around them as they sung along.

"love to do nothing, do nothing with you,"

"can we just do nothing forever?"

"time moves fast, can you slow it down?"

"can we just be kids forever?"

the almost sad and nostalgic tone filtered into your chest, placing a heaviness that you hadn't expected. that childish fear of growing up and wanting to stay young forever was reinstalled in you by his whisky-smooth voice.

in fact, there was a childhood innocence about the whole song. it was magnetic.

before you knew it the next song filtered in, this one a bit more slow-paced and silky.

the pianist took more of a charge on this one, the base caring the tune while the drums held the beat. you shifted a bit, the wind blowing a tree branch against the rails of the fire escape, but nothing could tear your attention from the music.

"held ya too close, is that why you left?"

"does my honesty scare you like it scares me?"

"nevermind, baby, i'll loosen up,"

"i'll let you slide right through me."

you subconsciously pressed your hand to your heart, mystified by the rawness of his voice. you could hardly register the instrumentals - you were absolutely taken by him.

"i still smell you in my bed, still hear you in my head,"

"when the lights are low you're all i see."

"is it bad to say i like it that way?"

"can you go on haunting me forever?"

wow.

you trusted nancy when she said they were good, but you hadn't realized they were this good.

not the technical kind of good, because you could spot some kinks in the instrumentals every now and then, and it was clear this was recorded in a dingy, cheap studio that couldn't afford autotune or clear recordings - but that was what made it great. it was raw, it was real.

it was just what you needed right now.

when the music finally fades you take in the moment, letting it sink in.

you felt more inspired than you had in a very long time.

you take the tape out of the deck, reading over the back. written in sharpie, it tells you that the first track was called sour times, the second called trampolines, and the third called sunset '85.

in no particular rush, you climb back inside, walking over to the phone, dialing nancys number. you weren't going to wait for the morning.

after a few long rings, she picks up. "hello?" she answers groggily.

you swallow "one song," you tell her, but something tells you that you want way more than that.

you can hear her sleepy grin through the phone. "you're going to fall in love with them."

you dont tell her that you think you already have.

you shake your head, a smile finding your lips. "what are they called, anyways?"

you can still hear the grin in her voice, can picture the triumph written over her features. in your gut, you knew that this band, whoever they were, in however way, were going to turn your life upside down.

"they're the jupiters."

Click.

(Y/n) Lively-Reynolds appears, sitting on a stool in front of a white background. She’s wearing a white corset top, solid silk on the cups but see through everywhere else, as well as a light blue skirt and some white pumps.

She’s gesturing to her left arm.

“I actually have my next one planned really soon. It’s gonna be just a massive wolf’s head on my upper arm- why are you cringing? How did you end up doing a tattoo segment if tattoos scare you, Claire?”

Cut.

“Hi, I’m (Y/n) Lively-Reynolds and today, I’m here to break down my tattoos!”

The screen shows a number of her tattoos from a few different angles, before turning back to her.

“Alright, let’s try to do this chronologically. So the first tattoos I got were these ones on my outer ankle.”

The camera shows the tattoos, two short words following the curves of each of her lateral malleoli.

“I got these the day I turned eighteen. It’s my parents’ nicknames for me, written in their handwriting. Mom’s always called me angel cause well, I am one.”

She looks at the camera with an expression that screams “duh”.

“And Dad calls me daffodil cause it means new beginning in the language of flowers, and well, we’ve both had those.”

Next is a series of Roman numerals spelling XI-XIII-MMVIII just under her left collarbone.

“This one I got on my Mom’s birthday, just after the first two. It’s the date she adopted me and that we decided to use as my official birthday cause apparently I exude Scorpio energy. Mom often says she should have waited a few weeks cause two Scorpios in one household isn’t manageable. I don’t know what she’s talking about, I’m a delight to be around, especially when my Dad’s involved as well.”

Off-screen, someone asks.

“Do you know your actual date of birth, though?”

“I don’t, actually. The government whipped up a birth certificate when I was left at the orphanage, and they had to guess a bit, but it’s not fully accurate. I figured I’d just keep the day Mom adopted me as my birthday, cause it really did feel like that was the day I was born, you know? It didn’t feel like living until Mom showed me how to.”

The camera cuts to a view of her left arm, where a familiar symbol is tattooed.

“This one here I got the day I filmed my last episode for Supernatural. It’s the anti-possession tattoo that you see on the show, in the exact same place my character had hers. So yeah, a nice memory from the show which also keeps me safe from any demons wanting to take control of my meat suit.”

She smiles cheekily and the crew laughs.

The camera then shows a video of her chest, where the symbols for woman and man are connected by an infinity sign on her sternum. Her hands cover her breasts, and we can see that her nails are painted in a soft pink colour.

“This one I got when I was… nineteen? I think? I was at Comic-Con, during a panel for Supernatural and a girl named Sarah, she had to be a couple of years younger than me at the time… She told me that I was the reason she came out, that she understood that being bisexual is okay and she doesn’t have to choose, then she thanked me for helping her learn who she is.

“That was the moment I realised that I can do good with my platform, that what I say and how I act matter. I scheduled an appointment at Funhouse right after that and I got this tattoo the same day.”

The camera then shows a view of her left wrist, where the word breathe is written.

“This one I got a few months after Supernatural ended. While I was on the show, everyone protected me, cause I was so young. For two years, I lived in a bit of a happy bubble where I got to do what I loved without having to worry about many of the responsibilities.

“But when it ended, that changed. Suddenly, I was getting scripts left and right, people were recognizing me on the streets much more often, tabloids printed out the most gruesome and untrue gossip about me, everyone was wondering what my next step would be, including me… 

“It was all a bit overwhelming. I got this cause it’s in an easy-access place, and I can discreetly trace it whenever I’m nervous. It’s such a simple reminder, to breathe, but it got me through a lot of tough times when I was making the transition between being the child of someone famous that few people know or care about, to being someone famous myself.”

The camera then pans to her right ribcage, showing three delicate butterflies.

“I got this one when I was twenty-two. Up until then, I’d always been living with someone, whether that be my parents, or friends that I’d already made.

“But when I started filming for Forsaken, I didn’t have any of that. The plot of the movie is that my character, Adelia, is the sole survivor of a shipwreck and has to learn to take care of herself on a deserted island. It’s not until well into the film that we discover that there’s a tribe living on that island, on the other side of the mountains, and she joins them.

“As such, most of the initial filming was done alone. I was on a Hawaiian island,  I only had the crew around me, and as much as I bonded with them, it wasn’t the same as when you have a cast to share the load of filming.

“Much like my character, I had to learn to become independent, to live without my parents or my friends around to always remind me what to do. I didn’t have a PA at the time, either, so I had to learn to check my own schedule and make sure everything was in the right place. It sounds very spoiled, but when we’re filming, we’re extremely busy, so I was sort of on overdrive all the time.

“But at the same time, it made me feel grown, free. I knew that I could take care of myself, but that was the confirmation that I wasn’t a little girl anymore. So as soon as filming was over, I got these tattooed, to represent the freedom and the changes I went through during that filming.”

Subtitles appear on the screen, transcribing a question asked by the interviewer off-screen.

“Do you think that’s what made your performance so good? Even mentioned by some critics as the best performance of your career?”

She nods.

“Definitely. It’s the work I’m most proud of. I think because we went through similar things, I really managed to identify with Adelia. I think at some point the lines between me and her blurred. There’s a big part of me in Adelia and how she’s portrayed, but there’s also a part of Adelia in me, that I’ll most likely carry forever.”

The camera then shows her left ribcage, on the side of her body, where Louis Tomlinson’s famous smiley face is tattooed, along with the phrase we’ll be alright underneath. The lines are a bit wobbly, as though they weren’t done professionally, but the smile on her face as she talks about them is blinding.

“These are two of my favourites, actually. They’re two tattoos that complement each other, and I got them done just last year, in February. Louis and Harry have always been a big inspiration to me, not only because they’re amazing lyricists and performers, but because they stayed together through years of abuse, closeting, and homophobia until circumstances were finally right for them to come out. Since at the time, I was in a somewhat secret relationship as well, it felt nice to talk to someone who understood that yes, I want to brag about my boyfriend, but I don’t want everyone forcing me to admit something so private. I wanted things to be done on our own terms, and Lou and Haz understood that. 

“I spent two months with them, showing them my songs, getting closer to them, as well. We started out as mere acquaintances because Taylor introduced us, and two weeks into my stay, I could honestly say they’re some of my closest friends.

“So, after much begging on my part and promises that I would not regret it, I convinced them to tattoo me. Louis did the smiley face with the x’s, cause I love it and I’d always wanted to get it. Then Harry did the we’ll be alright underneath, for two reasons: one is that it’s a reference to Fine Line, my absolute favourite song of his, and a great inspiration for my own debut album, and two is that it’s just a gentle reminder that when everything’s going wrong, it’ll be alright eventually.”

Next is a dragon tattoo on her right thigh. It takes up almost the entire surface of it and is extremely detailed.

“This one, I’m not gonna lie, it hurt like a motherfucker. It’s the most detailed one I have, too. At first, I barely even felt anything, because the thighs aren’t as sensitive, so I was lulled into a false sense of security. But the tattoo was huge and detailed, and it has a lot of shading as you can see. 

“I was alright for the first hour, and the second only hurt a little, kind of like how when I got my butterfly tattoos. By hour three it was starting to be really fucking painful, and by the time the artist was doing the last shading, I was ready to chop off my legs and be done with it, it hurt so bad. I wanted to seem tough, so I just followed the instructions calmly and walked out of the studio, but as soon as the door closed and they couldn’t see me anymore, I had Tommy carry me out. I could barely walk.

“Seriously, four hours in what feels like constantly the same spot was– complicated, my leg was sore for a couple of days. Tommy loved it, of course, he likes taking care of me, and he’ll take any opportunity to get to touch me so I just let him mother-hen me a bit. 

“Besides, the tattoo was an homage to him so he felt like it was partially his fault that I was suffering. I got it right after we went public with our relationship because dragons are a symbol of strength and hidden knowledge. It’s my way to remember that no matter how much everyone talks and thinks they know everything, we’re the only ones who know who we really are.”

She looks off screen and snorts.

“Oh, my God, are you crying? Maisie, no, don’t cry! If you start crying, I’ll start crying and then my makeup will be ruined.”

Cut.

(Y/n) gently wipes her eyes.

“Oof, okay, that’s enough of that, we still have a couple more. Now, what came after the dragon? Oh, right! The snake!”

The camera now shows a familiar snake, tattooed onto the middle of her back, right over her spine.

“I got this one the day my debut album, Stepping Stones, came out. The snake is my album cover, and although many people see it as a negative symbol, it’s completely different in my book.

“Snakes represent rebirth and transformation, they’re a symbol of creative life force. This album was very personal to me. Lyrically, it can be very vague, and represent many things, but if you look closely enough, it’s like you’ll get a peek into my mind, and into all the moments where I’ve had to change, adapt, and overcome difficulties. This one also hurt like a bitch, which, after the dragon one I should have been discouraged but… Tom always jokes and calls me a masochist cause I keep getting tattoos even though I always end up crying afterwards.”

Finally, the camera pans to her left collarbone, where a series of Roman numerals sits parallel to the first ones, spelling out XVII-XII-MMXXII.

The camera switches back to her just in time to see the brief panic pass through her face, that she cleverly disguises with a laugh.

“This one’s my most recent one! I got it about ten days ago! It’s the date we adopted our dog, Atalanta. She’s a rescue and had been at the shelter ever since she was just a couple of weeks old. Tom actually went there with Harrison, his best friend, cause he was looking to get a cat. But Tom saw Tala and it was love at first sight. So now I have two golden retrievers instead of just one.”

Cut.

She smiles.

“And that’s all the tattoos I have for now! I want to say a special thank you to my interviewer, Claire, my camerawoman, Maisie, and my amazing PA, Georgia, for making this interview run smoothly and not be extremely awkward given that you saw me half-naked for a lot of it.”

The crew laughs and she blows them kisses.

“Anyway, I hope you liked this video, and don’t forget to subscribe to GQ for more videos like these!”

End of video.

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(Y/n) Lively-Reynolds funny moments [2022 version]

62,597,135 views ● December 28th 2022

48M 👍 367K 👎

756,125 comments

yn_my_beloved: if wasn’t sure i was a lesbian before this video i definitely am now, holy shit, where i can get one?

tomfuckinghotland: i love how literally every tattoo has a meaning, no matter how small it is, and she just- lets us in on them? Like up until now i thought she got the butterflies cause they were pretty but omg!!! I’ve never felt so honoured to be let into someone’s mind

iphoneconspiracies28: (Y/n)’s really just out here living all our collective dreams, getting to hang out with Larry and have them tattoo her!!! ALEXA PLAY I WISH BY ONE DIRECTION

girlsboysandyn: I’m sorry, you’re telling me that the bisexual symbol tattoo was a result of me telling (Y/n) she gave me the courage to come out? She remembers me? I made a difference in her life? That’s it, I’ve peaked.

steppingstonesholland: Uh… Guys. The date she has written is December 17th 2022. They adopted Atalanta on December 3rd. And the panic??? What does this mean?? ARE THE ENGAGEMENT RUMORS TRUE PLS I CAN’T HANDLE THIS HOLY FUCKING SHIT

tomynschild: New prompt just dropped: Tom taking care of (Y/n) after she got the dragon tattoo, writers, make us proud.

(Y/n) Lively-Reynolds ✔ reply to tomynschild: Do you think it would get them writing faster if I posted a couple of the videos I took of when he was taking care of me?

-------

“tommyyyy!” you called, skipping over to tom, grabbing an apple from the counter on your way to him.

“hi darling, whats wrong?” tom said, smiling widely at you, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap, peppering your cheeks and neck with kisses.

“okay, so you know how ariana and i co write some of her songs for her albums and shit?” you asked, hearing how he hummed, his face still buried in your neck.

“well, i woke up with my legs shaking and sore, so i got an idea for a song, i went over to her house earlier, and we finished it up. wanna hear the demo? she let me sing it to get a feel of how it’ll sound.” you finished, standing up from your seat in toms lap. he looked at you with a flushed face, and you looked at him back with an annoyed one.

“well bitch, are you gonna get up or not? goddamn.” you said, tom muttering under his breath about how bossy you were. you walked over to the room in your shared house that you had for your recording and songwriting things. you walked over to the monitors in front of the big window in your room, logging in and going to a file named track seven.mp3, not having a name for the rather risque song. you had your own separate room in your house and tom had his office, and in your room was where you spent most of your time, ariana going to your house more often than any other of your friends. 

you got up and let him sit in the big leather rolly chair, taking your seat in his lap again. you wrapped one of your arms around his neck, connecting the computer to your speakers, the almost bell sound filling your ears. 

i like to fuck with you

just to make up with you

cause’ the way you be screaming my name make me wanna make love to you

your yells filled the house, toms voice getting louder, trying to get over yours. you began walking toward him, still yelling, your voice becoming hoarse. he looked at you, still talking about the dumb shit you two were fighting about. 

“i fuckin’ hate you, you know.” you scowled, looking at him with your eyes 5 shades darker with lust.

“yeah, the feeling’s mutual, y/n.” he scoffed back at you, grabbing your throat lightly, bringing your face to level to his, before closing the gap between you two aggressively.

a moan fell from the back of your throat, breaking your facade, making you groan internally.

“what was that? you said you hated me, princess? am i wrong?” he grinned, knowing he won. 

“yeah, i hate you. fuck you.” he gripped your neck once more, his hold only getting slightly tighter. 

“watch your tone, angel. dont want you getting in trouble now, do we?” tom growled, his other hand going to your ass, squeezing it tightly.

“want me to watch my tone? make me.” 

you shaked your head, ridding the memory from your mind like an etch-a-sketch. you looked over to him, seeing him listening intently. you’d gotten so lost in your thoughts, that you didn’t realize that the track was almost done. 

i love it when we make up

go ‘head, ruin my makeup

i love it when we make up

go ‘head, ruin my makeup

the track ended, and you looked over to tom expectantly, biting your lip in anticipation. “soooo?”

“absolutely not.” 

“what? why not?” you jumped out of his lap, your face contorted in anger (soon to be replaced with pleasure).

“i’m not letting you talk about our sex life in a song- let alone ariana’s!” he yelled, kicking the chair from under him.

“but you let me put successful out? that deadass has our moans in and at the end of the song, dumbass.” you looked at him with a confused look, as if saying ‘you are being irrational, calm down’.

“wHAT? Y/N!” tom screamed, running his hands through his hair, not seeing the way you bit your lip when he screamed your name. 

“so you don’t want me to put out the song. what if i… convinced you?” you grinned, walking toward him.

“oh yeah? and how might that be?” 

“i got a couple of ideas.”

----

your eyes shut as stars began to fill your vision, your lips agape with pants coming out of them, trying to catch your breath. tom gripped your hip, his figure stilling. you reached down to him, kissing his lips softly. you chuckled at the situation that you guys were in. ‘sex because he wouldn’t let you release a song about having sex.’. you hugged his neck, peppering his face in kisses. you pulled your hairtie back from his wrist, snapping it onto your own wrist.

you swung your leg off of his hip, collapsing next to tom, pushing your messy hair up into a messy bun, the tangles from toms fingers making it harder. you grabbed your phone from the night stand, stretching and cracking your fingers from gripping the sheets tightly.

y/n: he said yes ;)

ariana: track ft y/n l/n on thank u next???

y/n: of course, duh

-----------

For as long as the world can remember, the idea of soulmates and a soul bond has been a key point of society. Everyone is born with one or more soulmates, someone you were made to be with, destined to spend your life together, to find yourselves even when death tries to tear you apart. And all that is done through song.

The oldest of the pair can hear their counterpart's voice when they sing. It usually starts somewhere during your childhood, you hear them sing, like a little voice at the back of your head, something that's always with you and that'll help you find them when the time is right.

The youngest one, however, does not hear their soulmate's voice but instead has song lyrics written somewhere on their body, the first thing their partner will ever sing to them. 

You were born with lyrics on your ribcage, words that you've memorized, cherished, and obsessed over for the past twenty-three years. Logically, you knew that you were still young and you had all your chances to find the one that was destined for you. But after watching all your friends find love, move out, get somewhere with their lives, you started to think that you'd be alone forever. Most people found their soulmates before they turn 18, yet here you were at 23 years old, still nowhere closer to them.

"C'mon, it's a great opportunity!"

"I don't know, Gina..."

Your best friend rolled her eyes and put the last red velvet cupcake on the tray with a flourish, making her way to the front of the shop to put it in the display case while you kept decorating the donuts.

"(Y/n), you're an amazing singer, musician, and songwriter, this is the best thing that could possibly happen to you."

"Yeah, what about the fact that I have terrible stage fright, can't dance for the life of me, and let's not even mention the anxiety that comes with the possibility of failure."

She sat down on the stool next to you and took the piping bag out of your hands so she could hold them, forcing you to face her.

"(Y/n)?"

You kept your head down but hummed in acknowledgment.

"Can you look at me, please?"

Your eyes met the soft pools of blue that were hers.

"Stop doubting yourself. You're not made for this, babe. The bakery's my dream, I'm perfectly content with spending the rest of my days baking with my husband but that's not for you. You were made to sing, to be on a stage, perform. It's unfair to yourself and to the world to restrict yourself so much. You need to take a leap. Have faith."

You took a shuddering breath as your eyes filled with tears.

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I'm signing up now."

You took out your phone and started to fill out the application, heart beating a mile a minute.

This was really happening.

"Who knows, maybe one of the contestants will end up being your soulmate."

"Without you, I feel broke, like I'm half of a whole..."

Louis smiled softly as he blinked his eyes open. Every day for the past three years, he's woken up at seven in the morning to the sweet sound of his soulmate's voice. In the beginning, it was kind of annoying given that he was most definitely NOT a morning person, but he gradually got used to it and now enjoys it.

His soulmate must like singing a lot since he constantly has a song playing in the back of his head. It was especially bothersome when he was doing a show, oftentimes singing the wrong words because his soulmate was singing another song.

There's a video somewhere about him switching from singing Midnight Memories to Toxic almost flawlessly. Admittedly not his proudest moment.

He figured she was a songwriter since most of the songs she'd been singing for the past four years were songs he could not find on the internet, no matter how hard he searched. Not that it mattered, he knew them all by heart already, which was how he was able to start singing along with you.

He prepared his tea while humming softly to the song his soulmate was singing, quite happy that she'd started singing it on repeat since it was his favorite.

"Without you, I’m just a sad song."

He frowned when she suddenly stopped, still quite annoyed that even after all this time she hadn't figured out a way to finish it and he couldn't share his idea since he had no idea who she was. He took out his phone, answering a few messages from his fans, and watching a few of the things they made while he daydreamed.

At twenty-eight years old, he should have given up on the prospect of finding his soulmate. People that don't find their soulmates before twenty-five are pretty much hopeless. Sure, he remembered reading about that couple that found each other at 41 and 43 respectively (the oldest soulmates to ever find each other up to date), but those were rare occasions.

But as the hopeless romantic he was, he just couldn't give up. He convinced himself that it was because of his job, the fact that he was famous wouldn't allow for just a casual meet-cute like most other people, but he still dared to dream.

But today was a good day. It was the first day of X-Factor's new season and he was more excited than ever to meet new people, listen to some beautiful voices, and help young people conquer their dreams.

He quickly finished his tea and left the house so he could get there on time, already dreading the centuries they're gonna make him spend in hair and makeup and the millennia that it will take them to dress him.

"Are you nervous?"

"Is it that obvious?."

Georgina took in the way you were rocking on the balls of your feet, clenching your hands in a vague effort to ground yourself and the fact that you'd redone your hair at least five times in the last minute.

"A little."

Understatement of the century.

"Gina, what if they don't like me? What if they don't like my outfit? Or I fall because of the heels? Or my makeup's too much? Or my hair! What if they don't like my hair?"

She sat you down and took your hands in hers, taking exaggeratingly deep breaths so you'd follow her lead.

"Listen to me, your hair looks fine, your outfit's fine, your makeup's gorgeous, not surprising since I'm the one who did it, and you're not gonna fall because you walk in those heels like you belong on a runway and you know it. They're gonna judge you from your voice, and voice alone, and you have a gorgeous voice so I can guarantee you're gonna nail this."

You took a deep breath and nodded, repeating those words to yourself like a mantra.

It's gonna be fine.

They're gonna love you.

You're gonna nail this.

"(Y/n) (Y/l/n)?"

You looked up at the kind-looking gentleman in front of you.

"Yes, that's me."

"Follow me, please. You're next up."

Louis took an exhausted breath and drained the rest of his water, praying for the next one to be good. Obviously, he understood the importance of the 'entertainment acts', but the last three people had been shitty singers with an even worse attitude and he just needed a break.

"You okay?"

He turned towards Nicole and rolled his eyes.

"If I hear one more of these spoiled little brats I'm quitting."

"That's a valid point."

Cheryl agreed as well and even Simon nodded. These auditions were not going well. They all took a deep breath and straightened up in their chairs when the next contestant was announced, plastering fake smiles on their faces to keep the charade going.

Please, let them be good.

A girl with a bright smile and gorgeous red dress walked on stage, looking like the human personification of a puppy from how happy and excited she looked and only one thought filled his mind:

"Oh, fuck me."

Next to him, Nicole choked on her water, being the only one close enough to hear his whispered words.

Your heart felt like it could beat out of your chest at any given moment. You were on stage at the X-Factor, facing the judges, with a big audience excited to hear you sing.

"Hello."

Simon greeted you with a smile, which you took as a good sign.

"Hi!"

You waved excitedly and the crowd cheered, making you giggle.

Louis felt like he was dying.

The audience loved you, the girls were completely enraptured by you, Simon was smiling, and that little giggle made a freaking zoo erupt in his stomach (he was way past butterflies).

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"My name's (Y/n) (Y/l/n)."

"And do you have a day job, (Y/n)?"

"I work in a bakery."

It would seem he has a type: cute puppy-like people who work in bakeries.

"And what are you gonna sing for us today?"

"I'm gonna sing an original song."

"Well best of luck to you."

More like best of luck to him, Louis's the one whose heart's beating way too fast to be considered healthy.

You thanked Simon and sat down at the piano, taking a deep breath through your nose and letting it out through your mouth before starting to play.

"I don't wanna die and fade away..."

The crowd's cheers fell on deaf ears as you started to play.

"I just wanna be someone..."

Only you and the piano existed. 

Only the words coming out of your mouth mattered.

"I just wanna be someone."

Louis's path to realization came in three steps.

First, he started to recognize the words.

"Dive and disappear without a trace, I just wanna be someone. Well, doesn't everyone?"

Then, the voice started to sound strangely familiar.

"And if you feel the great dividing, I wanna be the one you're guiding, cause I believe that you could lead the way..."

And finally, he noticed that the voice hammering at the bag of his head, getting louder by the second, matched the sound that was coming out from the singer's mouth.

"I just wanna be somebody to someone, oh. I wanna be somebody to someone, oh. I never had nobody and no road home, I wanna be somebody to someone..."

Your soul mark felt like it was burning against your ribs, but you ignored the searing pain in favor of continuing the song.

"And if the sun's upset and the sky grows cold..."

A little pain wasn't gonna make you give up on your lifelong dream.

"And if the clouds get heavy and start to fall..."

Everyone in the room watched with bated breath as the signs grew more and more obvious.

"I really need somebody to call my own..."

Your ribcage started to glow, slivers of light permeating the fabric and shining like a beacon. Louis's eyes gradually started to light up gold, shining like ambers in the sun.

Telltale signs that your soulmate was close by.

"I wanna be somebody to someone..."

Both of you were oblivious to it. Your attention solely on the keys in front of you, Louis's eyes locked onto your face.

"Someone to you..."

His eyes were so bright that they started to light up his face.

"Someone to you..."

Your ribs glowed so much that the words could practically be read.

"Someone to you..."

Everyone held their breath as the song came to an end.

"Someone to you..."

You finished and couldn't help but bring your hand to your ribcage, frowning when you watched it glow.

What the Hell is going on?

Louis couldn't stop himself from talking if his life depended on it.

"I finished your song."

You looked up at him and were taken aback by how bright his eyes looked.

"What?"

"The song you've been singing for the past few weeks. You couldn't finish it so I did."

He got up and joined you on stage, the room completely quiet. He started to play the melody to the last chorus, nudging you so you'd sing.

"Without you, I feel broke, like I'm half of a whole. Without you, I've got no hand to hold. Without you, I feel torn like a sail from a storm. Without you, I'm just a sad song."

Your hand remained on your ribcage as it started to burn even brighter.

"You're the perfect melody, the only harmony I wanna hear."

You felt your heart stop when he sang.

"You're my favorite part of me, with you standing next to me I've got nothing to fear."

His hands came to a stop, as did the burning, and his eyes went back to a gorgeous blue

You couldn't believe that this man in front of you was your soulmate, but most importantly...

"I can't believe I have those words branded on my ribs and I didn't think of using them."

Pause.

"That's what you're thinking about right now?"

"Well I've been obsessing over it for weeks!"

"Fair point."

You were silent for a while longer until Nicole (bless her heart) decided to break the tension.

"Hey! Look at the bright side: your wish might just come true!"

Louis's head dropped onto the piano just as you spoke up.

"What wish?"

"Well as soon as you came out, he whispered 'fuck me'."

You turned to him and smirked while for what was most likely the first time in his life, Louis blushed.

"I mean, I was thinking of taking you out to dinner first, but I'm good with getting right to the good part."

"Fuck you."

"'S that an insult or a promise?"

"Both."

You waited in Louis's dressing room while they finished filming. Thankfully you were one of the last ones so you didn't have to wait long.

Unsurprisingly, the four of them had said yes, and no matter how many times Gina told you it was because of your voice and not the fact that you were Louis's soulmate, the win still felt bittersweet to you.

The door to the dressing room opened and a tired-looking Louis came in. 

"Hey..."

"Hey back..."

He sat down next to you on the couch, as oblivious as you concerning the evolution of your relationship.

"I hope you know they didn't say yes cause you're my soulmate."

You chanced a look at him through your lashes.

"I'm serious. You're a proper good singer. You have a beautiful voice and you're an amazing songwriter. You belong in this industry."

You smiled and inched your hand towards his.

"Thanks."

He intertwined your fingers, a matching smile on his face.

"My pleasure."

You took advantage of the next silence to really take him in. Every nook, every cranny, every layer of his deep blue eyes.

"Would it be too forward of me to ask you out to dinner?"

"You're about an hour too late, I already asked you out."

He chuckled and unconsciously leaned closer to you.

"Okay, then would it be too forward of me to ask for a kiss?"

"Not at all."

Your smile was blinding as his face got closer, and when he kissed you, for the first time in twenty-three years, you felt complete.

Songs used: Someone to you by BANNERS, Sad Song by We The Kings and Elena Coats

so here it is! I hope you guys liked it! Don’t forhet to comment, reblog, and/or like if you feel like it!

-Love, Libby

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