your new favorite song (dylan minnette x fem reader)
content: angst, post break up, model tour era, song fic, happy ending ig? idk what else to put lol
word count: 2.4k
A/N: hello this is my first go at writing anything like this so i hope u enjoy! my ask is open for any submissions for wallows prompts :]
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Despite the fact it’s been 5 months since you and Dylan ended your 5 year relationship, you can’t help but find yourself on his instagram, watching tiktoks of him performing 6 times in a row, or checking his private twitter that you’re still following at least 4 times a day.
Which is crazy, because you’re definitely over him and judging by the dwindling number of check-ins from friends and offers for coffee or girls night to distract you, it’s clear those around you believe it to be true.
The break up wasn’t messy, it was clean cut, simple even. You both noticed the love seemed to have fizzled out, not by anyone’s fault but it seemed your relationship had naturally ran its course. You wanted to keep trying, maybe take a step back and reassess in a couple of weeks, hell even go to couples counselling. But Dylan didn’t think it would work. So it made sense to call things quit, cut it off, be done with it.
Dylan seemed to be handling it great, Wallows released their new album Model right after you guys ended and either because he truly was over you or simply distracted, there was no indication from him that he missed you. No late night calls, no random texts, just radio silence. As it should be.
That never stopped you from hovering over his contact name or writing, deleting and re-writing the same text 10 times before giving up and throwing your phone onto your bed just to stop yourself before you accidentally clicked send.
The worst part was how empty your days felt now. You still had your job as a clarinet player for the LA philharmonic orchestra but with sporadic rehearsals and only having a few big performances a year meant you felt the lack of structure acutely.
No longer joining Dylan and the band on tour or in the studio, your days seemed to merge together with mindless activities to pass the time. You missed sharing the shitty tour bus bunk with him, you missed being lewd in hotel rooms in every new city they played in, missed being a tourist in countries you’d never expected to visit, but most of all you missed being part of Dylan’s song writing process.
The way he would hum the same short melody over and over until it sounded just right, asking your opinion on what word sounded better for this rhyme, sending you voice notes at random times so he doesn’t forget this new chorus line and does this metaphor make sense or is it too abstract?
So to say you were surprised to receive a text from Dylan at 11pm on a random weekday would be an understatement. You took a breathe before clicking the notification, unsure whether to feel relief or anxiety.
The text read “Hey, sorry to bother you but Wallows have a new ep coming out soon and we’re announcing it next week. I wrote a song and I’ll be honest, I wrote it for you. I wasn’t even going to release it but our producer overheard me singing it and insisted it be on the new ep, even went ahead and made it official before I could say not to. Anyway this is a long way of asking if I can show you the song..I don’t want you to come across it out of nowhere, I’d rather I show you it first, before the world has it, kinda like old times. If not that’s totally okay too, just let me know. Dylan”.
Your first reaction was shock, followed by a bone deep sadness at the formality of his text and then the memories that came flooding back of him excitedly showing you a new song he was proud of or the ones he’d written with you in mind.
Your second thought was how long should you wait to reply without seeming like you didn’t get butterflies whilst reading and the prospect of seeing him again.
Whilst your mind screams “yes please just tell me when and where and I’ll be there” you opt for the more sane option of “Hey, I’d like to listen for sure. Are you in LA anytime soon? We can find a day to meet. Y/N” and sent it after 15 agonising minutes.
Your phone buzzes less than 2 minutes later with a response, “Great :) Yeah I’m actually here at the moment. Are you free tomorrow by chance?”. Again, your heart flutters and you hate yourself for it. You should be over him. you are over him. definitely.
Having exchanged a couple more texts and agreeing on you going to Dylan’s apartment the next evening you spend the rest of the day anxiously debating what to wear, having not put much effort into your appearances recently.
the next day
When you arrived at his door he looked unfairly attractive. Wearing low hanging jeans and a slightly cropped white tee. Immediately you regretted agreeing to this. How was this gonna help you get over him? It’s been 5 months you shouldn’t even feel anything and yet..your lips turned upwards ever so slightly, you couldn’t keep your unbothered facade up for even a second.
“Hey” he said quietly. “Hi” you reply, nervously fiddling with your bag strap. Dylan steps aside and gestures for you to come inside, which is weird because you used to let yourself in with your own set of keys and spend more time here than your actual apartment.
Your breath caught when you entered the living room and saw pockets of memories you’d tried so desperately to shove down. Like the painting you’d given him for his birthday, or the coffee table books you chose together. Even the photo booth strip from your first anniversary was tacked to the fridge.
Mementos of a love filled 5 years that you’d expected to have been packed away, shoved to the back of a closet or donated to the thrift store instead barraged you with every glance.
“Do you wanna..” Dylan gestures towards the hallway that you know leads to his home studio. You nod and follow him, pushing down the anxiety in your gut over what you’re going to hear and what it could mean.
The second you walk in you’re overwhelmed by a rush of nostalgia, so many memories stored in such a small room. You sat on the edge of the small sofa and busied yourself with your hands whilst Dylan opens his laptop and logs in.
“Sorry for just texting you out the blue…I just couldn’t let this go out without you hearing it first” he said almost shyly.
“It’s totally fine, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t” you laughed awkwardly.
“well..I appreciate it” he smiles at you softly, tapping his fingers on the desk. “I wrote it like, 2 months ago, it’s called ‘your new favorite song’, truly no one was meant to hear it, I wanted to keep it for myself and then..” he stops talking and stares ahead, trying to form the words. “I just…couldn’t stop thinking about you…us, everything and this was the result”.
He presses play on his laptop and the room is filled with trumpets. As it plays he keeps casting glances your way but won’t make proper eye contact.
Each line was a paper cut, every new verse a snag at your heart. It was when the clarinet started playing through the speakers that it felt like the room had collapsed in around you. With another couple of listens you’d be able to play it back note for note perfectly, thanks to your experience as a clarinetist. Surely you weren’t reading into why they’d been added.
Verse three was when you felt tears sting your eyes. Dylan’s voice delicately singing “think I wrote you your new favorite song” had you looking at him almost pleadingly. As the recording sang “But I'll still look out for you at the show” you let out a noise, half laugh half sob.
In truth you hadn’t been to a Wallows show since the break up but when they announced their last tour you’d checked your availability for the LA show out of habit before catching yourself and exiting your calendar.
When you looked up Dylan was sat there, a sad smile on his face. The lyrics kept coming. “when you’re waking up who you gonna see, right side of the bed, looking back at me” and suddenly you’re reminded of all the mornings you’ve woken up expecting to find the other side of the bed filled, only to feel the cold mattress.
As the song fades out you sit there, blinking furiously to stop the tears from falling. Dylan is sat looking at you, still with that sad smile on his face. He grabs the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’s never grown out of, “So..that’s the song”. You nod trying to formulate a coherent sentence in your mind.
“It’s beautiful” you say finally, your voice a little raspy from swallowing tears. “I didn’t think you’d still be thinking about me” you continue.
Dylan looks at you then, properly, for the first time since you arrived. His bright blue eyes zeroing in on you. “Of course I have…I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Everyday I think about you, of us, what we had”. You sniff, looking down, unsure how to process it all.
“I thought you would have moved on” he continues, “I was convinced you wouldn’t even reply to my message”.
“so why did you bother? If you didnt think I’d reply?” you ask, with genuine curiosity. “Because I really, really fucking hoped I was wrong” he replies. You look at each other then, really look at each other, for the first time in months.
His eyes are set on you, a mixture of anxiety and fear present in them, you know what he’s too scared to ask so you take a breathe and ask yourself, “Do you ever regret it?”.
He lets out a shaky breathe that is almost a laugh “of course I do..every fucking day I beat myself up for letting the best thing that ever happened to me go. For what? A rough patch that I was too chickenshit to work through..”
The tears start falling then. How could they not when the love of your life has just said what you could only have dreamed of.
In an instant Dylan is crouched in front of you, concern spread across his face. “Y/N fuck..don’t cry you’ll get me started too” and you just let out a half sob half laugh.
Your voice raises slightly in exasperation “You break up with me, then contact me for the first time in almost half a year to come to your fucking house and listen to a fucking song you’ve written about us and expect me not to cry?” you say staring at him, his hand is resting on your knee and you place yours on top of it without thinking. As soon as you realise you go to swipe it away but he stops you, placing his other hand atop yours.
“Stop just…let’s just wait a minute” he says practically begging you. “I know I’m the one who ended it and I’ve regretted it every damn day so please just…just wait”.
Your hand relaxes but his stays atop of yours, warm and reassuring. Your thoughts are everywhere and you don’t know how to react so you just sit, staring for a moment.
Dylan stands up and sits beside you. “I don’t want you to feel you have to stay but-“ he starts.
“I want to” you reply, cutting him off. You repeat yourself, “I want to stay, Dylan”. He smiles at you and nods his head. “Okay great let’s…let’s move outta here back into the living room, I don’t wanna overwhelm you by keeping you in here thinking about the song” he says and goes to stand up.
Your hand reaches for his to stop him moving any further. “I want to think about the song” you say barely above a whisper. “I want to hear it again actually”.
“Really?” Dylan responds, a look of relief washing over him.
“Really. But sit by me this time.”, so he does.
When the clarinet starts you turn towards him and quietly ask “Are they in this because of me?”. Dylan nods and reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Everything in this song is because of you”.
You lean into his touch and his thumb brushes away a tear that’s falling from your eyes.
“I meant it when I said don’t cry or I will” Dylan chuckled reaching up to wipe his own eyes.
For the rest of the song you both sit there, quietly churning what’s been said over and over, trying to figure out where to go from here.
When the melody fades out you look up into his eyes and he leans forward, barely a breathe away. Instead of kissing you he rests his forehead against yours.
“I really, really want to kiss you, I just don’t want you to regret it later” he whispers.
Instead of replying with words you close the gap and let your lips meet his. Suddenly it’s as if the last 5 months never happened and a wall has been knocked down.
Dylan’s other hand comes up to cup the other side of your face as you kiss more desperately, afraid that if you stop to think your rational brain may win over your heart.
After a minute or so you both pull back, breathless. “I wish I’d texted you sooner” Dylan blurted out at the exact moment you said “I’m so glad you texted me”.
You both laughed and pulled away, truly in awe of what just happened. You were so sure he was over your relationship and you were the only one lying to yourself about it yet here you were, in Dylan’s apartment with a thousands words unspoken.
“What would you say if I asked you to stay for dinner? We could order from that pizza place round the corner you love” Dylan asks.
“God I’ve missed their stuffed crusts almost as much as I’ve missed you” you laugh, feeling lighter than you had in months.
“Perfect, you can have two of your favorite things again tonight then” Dylan replies reaching across the room to grab his laptop to order the pizza.
You fall back into the couch and listen to Dylan ramble about how tours been as he inputs your order, content in the fact that this new track really might be your new favorite song of his.
