#Johnny Simmons | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

happy74827 · 5 months

Note

Can you do Young Neil x reader ^.^?

Art of the Mixtape

[Neil Nordegraf x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: In true Neil fashion, he gives you the best birthday present he possibly can.

WC: 1942

Category: Fluff

I literally passed out while writing this on the couch last night, so I had to finish it today, but here ya go! Our precious Young Neil 🥰

『••✎••』

In the dim glow of Neil's room, scattered with posters of indie bands and vintage comics, he hunched over his old cassette player. His fingers delicately selected each track, infusing the mixtape with a subtle rhythm that mirrored the beating of his heart.

He knew he was being a little overly sentimental, but your birthday was one of the few times each year he was allowed to be a bit gushy, a rare occasion where he could take his time, choosing his words and actions with deliberate care. It was almost like the world was on pause for a moment as he navigated the relationship.

It was a simple thing, a few notes strung together on tape, but Neil carefully considered every word.

For you, the song's lyrics are more than just lyrics—they are an expression of his emotions, one that would surely be lost on anyone else. But in your hands, he knows you will understand him better than anyone.

"Love is like a fire; the more you try to hold onto it, the faster it burns."

The words are burning into your brain when Neil presses play.

You're still unsure what the song is meant to say, but you've come to realize how much it means to Neil. As the track loops for a third time, you sneak a glance over to him—his eyes are closed, and his lips are slightly parted. You wonder what he sees in this moment—perhaps he is lost in a memory. You try to picture what he might be thinking of, but you're not sure if your imagination could do it justice.

In the past, you were never very good at interpreting what someone was trying to convey, and the times when you tried to express your feelings always left you with a sickly feeling in your stomach—a heavy knot of nerves that would eventually bubble up into bouts of tears. It's not that you were unaware of what Neil wanted to say, but rather, you were too scared even to imagine it.

The cassette player runs through its cycle a fourth time before the song finishes playing, and Neil's eyes slowly open. His gaze meets yours, and you can see the soft glow of his smile reflected in his eyes. You don't need to say anything because his smile is an unspoken promise of an affection that will last far longer than any cassette tape could possibly play.

His smile fades slowly as he leans towards you. As his lips meet yours, you swear that you can hear the song playing once again in a new refrain—one that promises more than a handful of words.

“Happy birthday…” Neil says quietly, and you swear you can see a faint blush rising to his cheeks. You know how difficult it is for him to be so candidly emotional. You know the words he longs to express—he's told you time and again—but he's afraid to say them out loud.

You're grateful for that. You know it's not an easy thing for him.

You kiss him again and smile.

"Thank you... I love it."

"It's nothing, really. Just uh, small gift." He looks at you with his warm, tender gaze, and you know he's worried you might not like it. "I know you like the vintage stuff, and uh, I found this old cassette player, so I just thought—"

You gently place your hand on his.

"Neil... thank you."

He averts his gaze, and you can see that he's bashfully smiling. He tucks his hair behind his ear and shakes his head lightly.

"I, uh, I'm glad you liked it."

He turns to look back at you and gives you another gentle smile. He seems content just to gaze upon your face, but you don't mind it. After a long moment, he glances down and turns his attention to the cassette player in his hands.

"There's uh, there's more. If you want to hear them..."

He holds the cassette player out to you. You take it in your hands. You turn the cassette player over in your fingers and feel its weight. It's an old cassette player—you know he had to have spent some time scouring thrift shops for it. It's one of the few things he owned that had a personal attachment to it. He was the one to first introduce you to mixtapes and indie music, after all.

You glance down at the player and then back at Neil. He's looking at you expectantly. You know he's hoping for a particular reaction. It's only natural that he would expect that sort of response from you. But, as he's well aware, it's not something that comes so easily.

You smile and nod.

"Of course."

You open the cassette player, and another one of the tracks begins to play. You recognize the melody—it's the song Neil played for you the very first day you met him. The song was a lot more incoherent then, but now the melody is clear. Neil put some time and effort into choosing each track. You can see it now in the careful way he arranged the songs on the cassette. He'd gone out of his way to create a playlist that fit your preferences.

"It's beautiful."

Neil seems surprised to hear your voice, but it quickly melts into a soft smile.

"You think so?" He hesitantly reaches out to touch your hand, and you can see his cheeks turn a shade darker. He runs his fingertips along your palm and gently traces the lines of your hand. "I wasn't sure if... I wanted to get you anything since I know you don't really like, uh, receiving gifts. I just wanted to make something for you, I guess..."

He looks at you, and you see a hint of nervousness in his expression. You can't help but chuckle to yourself. You give his hand a gentle squeeze, and his expression softens. You smile, and he smiles back.

"I love it," you tell him.

Neil smiles wider, and you know that he knows you're sincere. The tension in his shoulders visibly relaxes as he looks back at you. He nods in reply.

"Good," he says. He pauses for a moment, and then he continues, "I wanted to make something for you, but, I dunno, I didn't know if it was right for you or... it would have been too weird..."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Too weird?"

Neil shakes his head and glances away. "Well, I wanted to make something, like, something you might have liked, but I just... I dunno, I kept thinking that you might not be interested and, uh, I thought, I mean, you're so cool, you know, and..."

You laugh as he begins to ramble. You squeeze his hand and gently pull him closer to you. He tries to look away from you, but you reach up to cup his chin, turning his gaze towards you. You kiss his cheek, and he looks away bashfully.

"Thank you," you say softly. "I don't need anything more than this."

He looks at you, and you smile.

"You mean it?"

You nod. "It's perfect."

He glances down and shyly smiles. He hesitantly reaches out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips lightly brushing your skin as they trail down. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes as you feel the warmth of his hand on your cheek. His thumb brushes against your skin, and your smile widens.

The cassette player is still playing softly, but you don't care. The song isn't important, not right now. You have a different song to sing, and the melody you wish to sing is nothing he could ever hope to craft in a tape player.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close as you press your lips against his again. His lips are warm and soft, and you swear you can feel the gentle vibrations as the melody plays out. He relaxes in your embrace and places his hand on the small of your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine as his fingertips press into your skin.

His breath is warm, and his heartbeat is steady, and the more you hold him, the more you can feel him. His lips are gentle as he returns your kiss, his hands holding you tenderly, and the longer you kiss, the more you long for his touch. The soft sound of his song playing in the background makes you feel like time has stopped, and all that matters is this moment, where your lips are pressed against his.

And even when Stephen barged in, shattering the peaceful silence of the moment, it still wasn't enough to break the spell. Neil looked at you with that same bashful, sweet smile he wore moments ago, and you could feel your heart melting.

Stephen glanced between the two of you, then sighed.

"Neil," he said, "Steph called again. She wants to make sure you’re aware that she’s visiting in two days. Are you?”

“Uh, yeah. I know. I talked to her... earlier.”

“Alright, cool. Hurry up and eat then. We have practice, remember? I can only cover for so long...”

Stephen left the room, leaving you and Neil alone again. Neil smiled sheepishly at you, and you knew that he'd forgotten about the practice session Stephen was talking about. You only halfheartedly remembered the date Stephen had mentioned, but you were more interested in watching Neil's reaction to being scolded.

"He's right," you tell him, "Can’t have Sex Bob-Omb without their bassist."

Neil laughs, and you feel your heart melt at the sound of his voice. “Maybe, uh, you can join us sometime? You could bring your drums or uh... I don't know, like a guitar or something."

You smirk. "Is that an invitation to jam with you guys?"

"Sure, why not? You're a better player than me."

You chuckle and shake your head. "I don't think that's true. Even Scott said you’re better than he was. Even the whole ‘Young Neil’ thing was dropped. I think you should be proud of that. I know I am."

"Yeah?"

You nod. "Of course. I'm very proud of you, Neil."

Neil's cheeks turn a faint pink as he ducks his head slightly. He laughs and shakes his head. "I, uh, I guess that's good to hear, I guess." He glances up at you, and you catch the way he's trying to hide a smile. "Thanks."

You lean close to him, brushing your lips against his cheek. He sighs, and you kiss him again. "You're welcome. I'm glad I get to help Sex Bob-Omb live out its dream."

He laughs softly, his hand cupping your cheek. He kisses you again and pulls you closer. The cassette player is still playing, and you've almost forgotten what song it is. Almost.

"Do you really think I'm good enough?"

You kiss him again and wrap your arms around him.

"You're the best."

His smile grows wider, and he buries his face against your neck. His laugh is soft, and his lips linger on your skin. You squeeze him tighter, and he presses his forehead against you, breathing in your scent.

"Thank you, really," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It’s my birthday wisdom to share."

"Yeah, yeah... Happy birthday, really."

He lifts his head to look at you and smiles, and you're sure there's no place in the world that you would rather be than right here, holding him. Because that’s all you'll ever need—a cassette player, an old song, and your love.

85 notes · View notes