#like obviously if youre disabled and need your phone within reach in case you fall or need to call for help thats one thing

[cosmiclasagna]

i sometimes bring it and set it on the toilet lid so i can hear when i play music but i never ever bring it in with me because im worried about it getting wet and also because i think its important to spend some time during the day NOT on my phone, and plus when im showering im busy washing myself so im not gonna be texting or whatever

hold on hold on wait a minute

[calmlftv]

girl, put your records on. - m.c.

description: you are the owner of a popular local bakery, and lately, life’s been a little bit hectic. thankfully, the cute record store owner next door seems to know the perfect solution!

word count: 2.5k

warnings: n/a!

w/n: here’s part 1 of my record store!michael au! this is probably the cutest thing i’ve ever written so i hope u enjoy it 🥺

taglist: @spicycal @castaway-cashton​ @irwinkitten​ @n-ctarinenga​ @thesubtweeter​ @ashisonthefloor​ @ashtonsos​ @loveroflrh​ @bestyearssos​ @treatallwithkindness​ @bestyearslftv​ 

****

The lock clicked as you tugged the door open, being sure to let it fall shut behind you and double checking the lock before you continued into your bakery, disabling the alarm while you made your way to the back, flicking on the light switches on your way. 

It was around 3 a.m., your usual time to come in with your messy bun and leggings, the old and flour covered apron being pulled on over your jacket. Tying it around your waist, you walked over to the office, propping open the door and grabbing the thick binder of orders you had stashed on a shelf. It made a loud thud when you tossed it on a workspace, the shiny silver reflecting the bags under your eyes as you hovered over the papers, eyes scanning the details and photos you had printed for every order you have. 

This bakery was your pride and joy; you started it while in high school, selling your baked goods to other students for a dollar a piece as you struggled to pay for your car and groceries for your family. It quickly became a second job as you perfected your recipes, locking them away in a dusty old trunk under your bed when you would leave for the day. While still in college you got your first lawn sign, planting it outside your home on the main street of your town, and you quickly made enough to buy a second building; it was set to be demolished but you refused to give up on it, keeping up with your studies and home business until you essentially paid for the building four times over. 

Your opening day for your building was beautiful, some friends from school helping out between classes until it got its feet under itself. Customers from your high school start up came by, new faces jumped in line, and before you knew it, you found people waiting outside our doors at 6 a.m., waiting to be let inside to get their breakfast pastries or pick up their orders early on. 

It was amazing. You were humbled, you were happy, you were keeping a roof over your own head and paying your hard working employees. 

Along with this though, you were stressed. 

Well, maybe more than stressed. “Overwhelmed” seemed like a better word to describe how you felt. 

Business was booming, and you had more orders in the works than you had ever imagined having. Recently you had put together the binder you were going through, making it easy for your bakers and yourself to stay on top of the orders that kept pouring in every day. Along with that, you had bought and installed more space and fridges for your kitchen, and now you were coming in much too early to prepare display case items. You worked your tail off in the morning, so your workers didn’t have to; they had enough on their plates.

Getting your stress out in a healthy way was something your therapist always pushed you towards, so you finally took his advice. You mixed together the cookie dough for the day in the big stand mixers, you kneaded dough for your bread and doughnuts by hand, every ounce of muscle you put in shedding a layer of stress from your shoulders. 

Evidently, your neighbors enjoyed your baking as much as you did, especially the sweet record store employees to your right. You dropped off extra goods when you could, but lately it’s been baskets, one dropped off right next to their cashier as soon as the doors were unlocked, and you were sure it was always a different variety of them every day; no matter the kind, you always made sure to attach a cute little note to each basket, thanking them for their work and reminding them of the discount they get at your store should they ever need their sweet tooth filled. 

On this day in particular you snuck out the back door as usual and dropped off your basket of goodies, the cashier being someone you hadn’t seen the last few days. He was blonde and had a pair of black glasses on, a light blue denim jacket and black t-shirt adorning his chest as you quickly dropped everything off and made it back to your shop. 

And somehow, within the few minutes you were gone, all hell had broken loose. 

“Darling,” your head baker and assistant manager said, immediately pulling you aside to chat. “There’s been….some accidents.” 

A sigh passed through your lips and you tugged up your hair into a ponytail, immediately jumping into fix-it mode. It took hours of your blood, sweat, and tears, but you finally settled in with a piping bag in your hand, very carefully fixing some of the accidents that had occurred. From the front entrance you would hear your bustling employees boxing and ringing up customers, the occasional bit of laughter filter through to your ears. 

Everybody was happy. And that was all that mattered to you. 

**

It was a much quieter time of the day when the bell dinged, your associates up front cheerily greeting the new customer while they cleaned up the display areas, a curious laugh escaping one of them as you set your piping bag down. Another hand cramp was taking over, and you needed a break. 

“Hey, Cupcake?” 

The familiar nickname from your front shop workers made you raise your head, meeting their eyes from the doorway that marked the end of the kitchen. 

You smiled at the young high schooler - Tilly - standing in the doorway, her warm smile being your response. “There’s someone up front asking for you.” 

You nodded and jumped up, happy to have a distraction from your sore hand. When you got closer to Tilly she dropped her volume considerably. 

“He’s cute, Cupcake, you need to get his number.” 

A chuckle escaped you as your cheeks turned pink, shaking your head at the well meaning associate and patting her shoulder. 

You were expecting a gentleman, maybe someone returning the basket from your record store deliveries. 

However, you weren’t expecting the cute man that came with it. 

It was the cashier from that morning, a basket in his hand and a beanie now pulled snugly over his head as a blonde fringe was pushed to the side. You hadn’t noticed in your rush earlier but his eyes were gorgeous, the most stunning mix of greens and blues that you had ever seen; that, combined with his seemingly nervous shifting, you were melting before you even spoke. 

“Hi,” you greeted, walking up to him with your signature warm smile. You had hair falling out of the ponytail, strands and baby hairs flying almost every which way as you did your best to tame them. “I’m Y/N, the owner of this little shop.” 

The man smiled in return, showing his teeth as he held out a hand, which you in turn took. “Hey,” he greeted just as warmly. “I’m Michael, I own the record shop next door.” 

“Oh, good to meet you, neighbor!” You said cheerily, knowing it was your own fault for not getting to know him sooner. Your eyes drifted to your basket, his pale and slender fingers seeming to drum a beat on the bits he was holding. “I see you got my gift this morning.”

Michael blushed, handing you the basket. “Yeah, we did,” he said kindly, letting you take it and place it on the front counter. Tilly almost immediately scooped it up, happy to bring it to the back and clean it - and gossip with the others about Michael, no doubt. 

The gentleman cleared his throat. “Uh, we really appreciate you bringing things by,” he thanked. “But, um, I just wanted to...I um-” 

He was flustered obviously, a pink tint on his cheeks as he met your eyes. “Sorry if this is awkward or an over-step, but I uh, I just notice that you bring us things when you’re really stressed, and we’re totally happy with it, but the baskets every day kind of...have me...worried.” 

The fact that a complete stranger can tell when you’re stressed, and took notice of your habits, made you blush, your hands connecting in front of you. Michael was full on blushing now, his cheeks more red than the light pink that they were. He had reached back to rub a hand on the back of his neck, a couple of cloth bracelets sitting on his wrist. 

“Um,” you stammered, also flustered but for different reasons. “You know...I have been kind of stressed lately.” 

The man’s eyebrows shot up, surprised that he was right as you chuckled lightly. “Um, we’ve had a boat load of orders just slam into us. Lots of different things, too, and this morning when we were taking some cakes out to finish them, a couple of them got dinged up and we’ve been fixing them all morning.” 

The way you were wringing your hands was probably more than enough evidence of your stress, the very thought of everything you had to complete filling you with a small amount of anxiety as you talked about it. However, Michael stood and nodded along, a reassuring look on his face as he leaned against a display case. He seemed like a great listener, something that made you smile.

“That does sound stressful,” he agreed, his hand shoving in his pocket while his other pulled out his phone. “I’m, uh, not sure it’ll help, but if you ever want to talk…” He turned his phone around a new contact information page pulled up as he sheepishly smiled. “Maybe we can go get coffee together and talk about it?”

You couldn’t hide the smile that tugged on your life, the nod following quickly after. “Yeah! Yeah, um, I’d love that,” you said, joy leaking into your tone as you took his phone and entered in your information. 

“Great! Cool,” Michael said, watching you type in your personal and work phone numbers so he can reach you through both. When he took his phone back you were both beaming. “I’ll, uh, call or text you, then, and we can set a date? I know the owner of the shop just down the road, so we can definitely go there.” 

You nodded, your beaming smile still on your face as you tucked some of the loose hair behind your ear. Michael matched your smile and thanked you for the goodies again, bumping into a couple of customers as they were entering because he was still looking at you. 

While another associate helped those customers, you quickly ducked into the back, Tilly and everybody else surprising you at the doorway, making you laugh. 

“Come on, everybody, my love life isn’t that exciting. Get back to work!” 

**

Michael sat in his office, leaning back in his chair as he thought about the interaction he just had with the cutest woman he’s ever met. His phone was in his hands with a blank text on it, the girl's name in the recipient line as he tried to figure out what to say. 

He wouldn’t ever say it was normal for him to be asking cute girls on dates like that; in fact, with most of his interactions with women, he was too nervous to make any sense, but somehow, that girl had given him a weird sense of confidence. 

Ultimately, he kept it simple, letting her know he was excited about the date and asking what times would work for her. Immediately after it sent he opened his group chat with his boys, letting them know he had some news. 

Immediately he had a response from Calum. 

So...meeting tonight?

Michael affirmed the text and then quickly put it away, getting through the work day while he texted the baker girl next door. When he finally got to lock up he couldn’t get to Cal’s fast enough, knocking on the café door rhythmically and beaming when his best friend opened the door. 

“Hey mate,” Cal greeted, letting him step inside before quickly pulling the door closed. Michael quickly went to their usual table, Duke lifting his head from his bed by the counter. 

“So,” Cal said, moving to the counter to make Mikey some tea. “What’s this big news announcement?” 

Michael chuckled and shook his head, watching from his seat at the table as Cal got to work. His friend groaned but respected the silence, the two warmly greeting Ashton and Luke as they showed up. 

Once they were all seated with their usual drinks and food the conversation flowed, everybody talking about work and swapping stories of difficult and amazing customers. Eventually, Calum repeated his question, Duke now settled in his lap as the dog napped. 

Michael chuckled and beamed. “Boys,” he said, watching them all focus on him. Luke leaned forward practically on the edge of his seat. “I have a real date. With a real girl.” 

Immediately the other three cheered, all of them congratulating their friend. 

“Who is it?” Ashton asked, grinning as he picked up his coffee. 

“That cute bakery girl,” Mikey explained. “The one with the shop by my store.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” Luke said, leaning back against his chair as he brought his heads up, lacing them and leaning his head back against them. “You’ve been talking about her forever, man.” 

Michael reached over and shoved Luke’s shoulder, the blonde man grinning. “Fuck off,” he said, Luke sticking his tongue out before picking up his drink again. “I told her we could come here, to Cal’s, and she agreed. She’s free tomorrow so we’re gonna meet after she closes.”

The boys were all smiles, every single one of them ecstatic for their friend. The conversation continued to flow well into the evening after that, all of them reluctant to say their goodbyes. 

However, Michael went home with his phone buzzing, you and him talking about anything and everything; it was the most comfortable he’s been with someone since meeting the boys, the two of you clicking in a way that he just wasn’t used to. It made him very eager to get to know you, and very happy when you seemed to show the same feeling. 

When Michael finally noticed the time he sighed, knowing he should be responsible and go to bed. The two of you said your goodnights, a kissy face emoji attached to yours that made him blush before he turned over. 

On the other side of town, you were doing the same, quite content with how your day had ended. Despite the horrid start, you were very happy to have met Michael, and your stomach flipped whenever you thought of the date he had promised to take you on. No other person had ever made you feel that way, so you cherished it, knowing Michael was going to be the sweet boy you’d keep forever. 

Maybe this was the start of something that would last forever.