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#elijah hewson
rottin6 · 4 months
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is he attractive or is he just irish
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angelwonie · 11 months
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LET ME IN || elijah hewson
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PAIRING: elijah x reader
WORD COUNT: 3.3k
GENRE(S): fluff, a bit of angst, friends to lovers, hurt comfort
SUMMARY: when your best friend turns up at your front door unannounced, you decide to find out why he's acting so strangely. what you don't expect is for some repressed feelings to bubble up to the surface.
WARNINGS: smoking, mentions of drinking + being drunk, kissing, eli has daddy issues oops
this is it y'all i've gone insane... he looked at me once and this is what happens. @boobyskeetz made me post this btw
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It’s far along in the evening when you come home to find Elijah Hewson sitting on your staircase with his head in his hands. 
He’s slumped over, leather jacket around his shoulders and a slowly burning, unattended cigarette in between the pointer and middle finger of his right hand. The sky is pitch black, the only source of light being an ancient lantern whose shine just barely reaches Elijah’s hair. 
You’re shocked at the sight, to say the least, the heaviness of your grocery bags suddenly a faint background noise. 
“Eli?” you move closer, albeit hesitantly, and your voice makes his head snap up.
When he looks at you, you fight back the urge to gasp. His eyes, half lidded, just barely glimmer in the faint light provided by the moon overhead, leaving room for his undereye bags to stand out. And they do stand out — so much that you almost don’t catch him stumbling over his feet ever so slightly as he walks over to where you’re standing. 
Almost. 
“Are you alright?” 
It’s not a question, not really, but he winces either way. You stand close enough to see it, but immediately, his lips pull into a lopsided grin to hide his initial reaction. 
“‘Course I am,” he takes a drag of his cigarette, and uses his other hand to take one of your grocery bags. “Just wanted to see you, that’s all.”
You nod, watching him drop the unfinished cigarette to the ground and step on it. You wonder how many he’s smoked today and consider asking, but decide against it upon realizing you probably don’t want to know. Instead, you let him take your grocery bags wordlessly, following him up the stairs. 
It’s a short staircase, but you’re walking slowly – too slowly for your liking – and there’s a million questions burning on your tongue. You hold them back, mostly because you’re tired, but also because something in Elijah’s eyes tells you not to push. 
He’s the one to speak first when you reach the right apartment. “Hey, your flowers are still alive.”
He’s referring to the roses he helped you pick out last month. It was a treat for yourself, for finishing all your assignments, and you had taken the whole ‘plant mom’ job pretty seriously, even putting the roses in a prettier vase and putting it on display outside of your apartment. 
“Yeah,” you chuckle. “They’re holding up really well.”
Elijah waits for you to unlock the door, then walks inside with you in tow. He wobbles a little as he drops down his shoes where he always puts them — where he’s put them ever since you told him three years ago it could be his spot. 
You watch him shoulder off his jacket and start organizing the groceries in the fridge from afar, slowly taking off your outerwear. It’s warm inside, and your skin feels like it’s about to be set on fire after being out in the cold for so long. You think of Elijah sitting on your doorstep. How long was he waiting for you? 
“Mind if I take a beer?” he cuts off your thoughts and you look up to find him with his hand on your fridge, an inquiring look on his face. 
Now the lighting’s better, and you can clearly see his face. The creases between his brows, the focus in his gaze, the stubble that he’s let grow just a little longer than usually. Whether that’s a deliberate choice or simple forgetfulness, you’re not sure, but it worries you. His state worries you. 
“Suit yourself.”
Maybe you should have said no, you think as he takes a sip of the drink and you’re reminded of the wobble in his walk. He’s probably had enough to drink already. To be fair, though, Elijah can be stubborn when he wants to, and something’s telling you today is one of those days. 
When everything is either in the fridge or in a cupboard, you and Eli wander into the living room, shoulder to shoulder, without much to say. It’s messy, and he scolds you playfully for it — like he’s not the guy whose dorm you have to clean each time you come over. 
You join his laughter though, and plop down on your couch a little more relaxed than before. 
“How long did you wait for me?” 
This time you manage to ask him the question, and he shrugs.
“A couple hours.”
He lifts the beer up to his lips and empties it, the can blocking out his view of you and your widened eyes. 
What the hell is going on? His gaze tells you nothing. It’s so indifferent it makes you want to rip your hair out, because no matter how much he wants to pretend spontaneously coming over at three am is normal, it’s not. Especially when it comes to him. 
Sure, if it were Robert, you would’ve figured it was just him acting on impulse, but it was never like that with Elijah. 
“You could have just called,” you say finally, a slight quiver to your voice. “You should have just called. You know that, right?”
He meets your gaze, but not for long; after a second it drops down to his lap, like he’s embarrassed. You hold your breath, awaiting an answer. His fingers drum against the side of the couch, but then he changes his mind about that, too, and brings his hand to scratch the side of his face. God, what is he even doing? Trying to see how long it’ll take for you to snap and throw him out of the apartment? 
Suddenly, he sighs deeply, dropping his hands in his lap. “Didn’t wanna bother you.”
You can’t help yourself from scoffing. That’s it? He ‘didn’t wanna bother you’? Maybe you would’ve believed it hadn’t he shown up unannounced at your front door in the middle of the night. 
You almost open your mouth to say just that, but stop yourself when Elijah looks up again, and his bloodshot eyes meet yours. Something’s definitely not right. You can physically feel it, the tightening of your chest, the anger somehow pushed to the back of your head. 
“Why are you here?” you ask him sternly, keeping your eyes on him. This time, he doesn’t look away. 
“Do you want me to leave?”
It comes out meek, frail, as he almost chokes on his own words. You’re taken aback by the shiver in his voice, the drop of his shoulders. He places the beer can on your table and you swear his hands shake — just barely, but enough for you to see and for your heart to clench in response. 
You shake your head. “No, I want to know why you’re here.”
He laughs humorlessly, leaning forward in his chair. His hands are definitely shaking, but you’re not sure whether it’s from the alcohol or something entirely different. 
You know this face on him — he’s bothered by something, but doesn’t want to admit it. He’s always been like this, ever since you met him at school and watched his eyes glow with the same sadness after his teachers told him he should work on his grades. It was the same look on his face, the same millions of feelings threatening to bubble over the surface. 
The only difference seems to be that now, he’s got no cap in his hands to close the bottle. 
“I’m just tired, that’s all. Wanted to talk to you ‘cause the lads are too much noise.”
You frown and send him a look of disdain. Perhaps this isn’t something you should push on him, but seeing as he just magically appeared at your apartment while drunk, you do have a right to at least inquire what the fuck is going on.  
“If you’re going to lie to me, you might as well leave.”
Silence follows your statement; silence so loud you almost regret saying anything at all. He grits his teeth, and you swear you can hear it from across the table — though that might just be your brain playing tricks on you this late in the evening. 
“It’s my dad,” he mutters finally, scratching his stubble. “Not that that’s much of a surprise.”
“What happened?” 
“Nothing new, really,” he exhales, closing his eyes briefly. “Just, you know, the usual ‘you’re wasting your life by not going to college’ talk. Total bullshit, as always. The only thing wasted is those twenty minutes of my life I spent listening to him talk about it.” 
You breathe out slowly, fighting against the urge to look away from his gaze. He keeps it on you, unwavering, but you don’t know what to say. It’s dangerous territory, one you haven’t ever entered fully, and the worry of hurting him pangs at your chest; the legitimacy of his vulnerability scares you and moves you all the same. 
You bite the inside of your cheek.
“He’s just worried, you know. I would be, too.” 
“Why?” his lip quivers and your heart sinks in your chest; so quickly it forces a sudden nausea upon you. “Because I’m not cut out for this?”
“No, Eli, that’s not what I–”
He cuts you off — not with his words, but with his hands gripping the arms of his chair to help him stand. It’s so abrupt your words die down in your throat, leaving a dryness behind. Hovering above you, he still looks small, like he’s fading into the light above; barely even present as Elijah but rather as some mass of feelings clumped together, ready to explode. 
“Do really none of you think I can make this work?” 
It’s the alcohol, you think, god, you shouldn’t have let him drink any more — how could you be so careless? But no, it’s not your carelessness or his, and you know that, even in this state of panic, it somehow reaches your mind — the revelation that this isn’t a random outburst. 
It’s the fruit of a tree that’s been growing for a long time; the ripeness isn’t fake, even if you’re unprepared to pick it.
“Do you really think that?” he asks this quietly, his voice barely audible, but it feels like he’s tearing your skull apart with a scream. 
Do you really think that? The very assumption, the very thought, disgusts you. The thought that you could ever believe he won’t make it — it’s so unnerving you let out a shaky breath. 
A movement of your legs from underneath you and you’re standing. Your feet tap against the floor as you walk up to him slowly, like approaching a scared deer. He is scared, you realize. Your fingertips tingle with the longing to run your hands over his face, but you hold them back, instead answering his question.
“No.” 
He blinks, and you say it again: “No,” and again and again, “No, no, no, no,” until it almost doesn’t feel like a word anymore and more like some sort of bandage wrapped around a bruised bone. 
“Your dad doesn’t think that, either. He’s just worried because he cares. Because he loves you.” 
He falls silent. “I’m not so sure.”
“About what?”
He doesn’t reply instantly. You look down on his hands, only to find that they’re still shaking, and take a couple steps forward. Elijah doesn’t notice, you think, or if he does, he doesn’t show any disdain for your closeness. 
“About love,” he says finally. “Isn’t love supporting someone unconditionally? Rooting for them, no matter what? That description doesn’t really fit my dad.” 
“I think you’ve got it all wrong.” 
You suppress the smile that threatens to form on your face when he sends you a confused look, his nose scrunched. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, you can support whoever you want without much difficulty,” you look at the floor, thinking of what to say next. “That doesn’t mean you love them. If you love someone, it means you’re willing to suffer through discomfort and pain to make them happy. You’re willing to spend your nights worrying if they’ve chosen the right path. You let them into your apartment at three am. That type of thing.” 
Thirty seconds pass before you finally look back up, internally shivering at the way his stare bores into your soul. 
“You…” he trails off, wincing like it’s painful. Uncharted territory, yet again — that much is obvious from how your heart bangs against your ribs. The silence in the room makes you worry if he might just be able to hear it.
You hear him inhale sharply, taking a step back so he can sit at the edge of your sofa. Following suit, you observe his eyes shining in the light, less red than before though still uncertain. His shoulder brushes against yours and you breathe in — he smells of alcohol, but it’s oddly comforting in the storm of your thoughts. 
Elijah’s head turns to you. 
“Have you… ever thought this is all for nothing? That I keep leaving the tour bus with more and more bruises for no reason at all?” 
Your fingertips tingle again, and this time you do nothing to stop them from brushing over the back of his hand. It’s stupid, probably, but it feels right, his skin against yours. He’s warm, really warm, but it doesn’t bother you in the slightest, even when he leisurely drags his forefinger down the side of your hand. It tingles, but you don’t move away. 
Elijah’s hand doesn’t shake anymore when you interlace your fingers together. Finally, you get the courage to speak. 
“I’ve held your hair back while you were throwing up, Eli. Tied your shoelaces after a tiring show. Corrected your lyrics until four at night so you could send them to your manager before dawn. I wouldn’t do any of that if I didn’t believe you were on your way to the top from the first time I saw you,” you take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before you look directly at him. “I wouldn’t do any of that if I didn’t believe in you.” 
It’s silent after that. For a long time. But his hand sits clammily in yours like a pearl in a clamshell, and you hold onto it for dear life, praying he won’t slip out from your grip. 
“Promise me you won’t stop.”
Your head turns, startled by the sudden statement. His gaze scans you from head to toe, lingering on the curve of your lips, then your nose and finally your eyes, where it stops and plants its roots. You feel it spreading almost like wildfire, the warmth that comes with it. You almost tremble underneath it, squeezing his hand a little harder. 
“Won’t stop what?” you whisper, eyes wide.
“Letting me into your apartment at three am.”
His gaze drops in a manner someone might’ve mistaken for lazy, but you know him well enough to recognize the vacillation in his eyes. You feel his fingers shiver in your embrace, every breath strained. 
“Why not?”
You move closer, only by a centimeter or so, but he senses it — all the cells in his body seem to tingle with the paradox of wanting to touch and wanting to run all the same. Maybe it’s the unexpectedness of it all, or maybe rather it’s the arbitrary comfort that comes with it, that scares him to death, but whatever reason, he feels like he’s entering a deadly storm. 
And perhaps it’s the alcohol and he’s not thinking straight, but this storm appears more inviting than any sunny day he’s ever witnessed. 
He squeezes your hand tighter and leans down until his lips are impossibly close to brushing against your nose. You feel his hot breath on your face, sparks dancing across your skin to the smell of cigarettes and whiskey and beer, his hand shaking ever so slightly. 
“Because I still haven’t gotten the chance to let you into mine.” 
You smile — a real smile that you no longer manage to hold back. He mirrors the expression, albeit softly, lines appearing in the corners of his mouth. Let me in. Hues of colors appear in his eyes just as his shaky pointer finger grazes your jaw. Let me in. He cups your cheek gently, his lips parting in a breathless exhale. 
Let me in, let me in, let me in.
He does. Just when the clock shows 3:47am and your shirt feels like it’s sticking to your skin, he finally closes the distance between you.
His lips brush over yours — it’s featherlight and careful, but you accept it all and kiss him back nonetheless. You can taste cigarettes on his tongue when he opens his mouth. Suddenly, the clock’s sound doesn’t reach your ears anymore, and all you can hear is the beating of your heart inside your throat. His finger strokes your cheek and his nose bumps into yours, but it’s fine. It’s more than fine. 
You breathe in the scent of him, bringing your hands to tangle themselves in his hair in a moment of recklessness. Yeah, you’ve definitely gone absolutely crazy — but that’s a problem to solve later. For now, you’re kissing Elijah Hewson.
You’re kissing Elijah Hewson. It’s almost a revelation that dawns upon you like the waves of a tsunami, knocking the breath out of your lungs. It squeezes at your heart, a drawstring closing around it, and you have to pull away to breathe, to examine his face, puffy lips and tired eyes, to understand the gravity of your situation.
“We just kissed,” you say, and your voice shakes even though you strain to keep it calm.
“Yes,” he affirms, like it’s nothing. But it is something, and his eyes can't hide that. “We did.”
“But you’re drunk.”
“You think that’s why I did it?”
“I don’t know.”
He smiles and you swear your heart almost leaps out of your chest. “You do.”
“I don’t.”
He looks at you for a moment – your messy hair, reddened lips, the hesitation in your gaze – and makes his decision. 
In less than a second, he drops down to his knees and you’re about to protest (because what does he think he’s doing?) until he grabs your hand and holds it between both of his. You furrow your eyebrows to hide the fact that you’re taken aback, though from the glint in Elijah’s eyes you figure you’re not doing a very good job at it. 
He looks at you, like really looks at you, and you look at him the same. The fruit lies in the palm of your hand and squeezes to the beat of your heart when he speaks. 
“I love you.” 
Your breath catches in your throat when he kisses your knuckles softly, and keeps them against his lips. “That’s why I kissed you, why I turned up to your apartment at three am, why I don’t regret it. Any of it. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Something pulls at the very back of your throat. You keep your mouth closed, but even that doesn’t stop a choked whimper from leaving you — a sound that makes Elijah’s lips quirk upwards. He smiles, and you attempt to do the same, yet all you manage is a half-laugh, half-sob that shakes though your body. 
Embarrassed, you look down, and you can hear Eli chuckle before the warmth of his arms envelops you whole. He hugs you tightly against his chest, fingers coming up to stroke your hair as you partly laugh, partly cry into his shirt. And even though it should be humiliating, the act feels so powerfully comforting that you let him hold you. 
“I love you too.”
You whisper this into his chest, breathing heavily. He pulls away and you look up, confused, but he smiles that gorgeous smile of his, with teeth on display and smile lines appearing, and cups your jaw. His eyes shimmer with undoubtable joy. 
He doesn’t have to say anything. You know.
“That’s a fucking relief, huh?” he whisper-laughs and you join in on it.
“Yeah.”
And you smile.
He’s let you in, and you don’t think you’ll be leaving any time soon. 
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kindestofkings · 6 months
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photographer era [2]
my lovelies this is a long one so get yourself a cuppa and hopefully enjoy!
inhalerdublin
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inhalerdublin A huge honour to be bringing our show to @officialslanecastle this summer to support the one and only @harrystyles. We should definitely shower for this one X
See you there.
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inhalerfan1 man this is so cool
yourusername WOOO ill get the boas !! @joshjenkinson_ @bobbyskeetz @elijahhewson @ryanmcmahon_15
bobbyskeetz oh lets maybe not do that
yourusername damn my small indie band aren't that small anymore
inhalerfan2 such a mood lol
yourusername posted on their story:
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elijahhewson posted on their story:
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yourusername posted on their story:
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yourusername
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liked by evehewson and others
yourusername these lads are about to SLAY Slane castle !!
📸 are all me baby ;))
inhalerfan1 AHH they were so so great
inhalerfan2 oh come on look at that first pic of eli, if thats not love I dont know what is !
inhalerfan3 they are making it hard to not ship em inhalerfan4 that your honour is two oblivious people IN LOVE (liked by bobbyskeetz)
inhalerdublin
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inhalerdublin We’ll never be able to fully recover from the experience of playing Slane Castle yesterday. Thank you to @harrystyles for having us open for him in such a legendary place. And to every one of you who sang our songs back to us.
See you in November Ireland x
📸 @lewevans and @yourusername
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lewevans some gig!
thescriptofficial Scenes !!!!
inhaler2 inhalerry photo when? (30 likes )
inhaler1 @username you take the best pics of them please please go on tour with them!!
(liked by elijahhewson,bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_)
inhaler2 will ONE of you close the deal , for the sake of your fans !! joshjenkinson_ @elijahhewson for the fans.... inhalerfan3 so unserious you forget they just played SLANE
harrystyles, anthonypham and lloydddddddddddddddd followed you!
yourusername
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yourusername photos of THE harry styles that I took... me cause I met harry styles over the weekend
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ryanmcmahon_15 your supposed to be our photographer
bobbyskeetz welcome home cheater
elijahhewson is one lead singer not enough for you ??
yourusername ..... yourusername you start dancing like that THEN we'll talk elijahhewson 💔💔
lloyddddddddddddddddd coming for my job but the pics are so good ill let it slide
yourusername yeah im obsessed with you and your employer please hire me <33 yourusername i can boot scoot like a pro (liked by harrystyles and hshq)
elijahhewson
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elijahhewson was a good weekend I'd say
yourusername wow yes well done that caption reaffirmed how cool you are !!
yourusername YOU JUST PLAYED SLANE YOU CAN BE HYPED evehewson such a loser
joshjenkinson_ did you do it for the fans ??
ryanmcmahon_15 👀👀 bobbyskeetz 👀👀 yourusername he did it for the fans FINALLY
inhalerfanupdates
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inhalerfanupdates photos of eli and @ yourusername have been leaked over the last few days .... are we still saying they're just friends?
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inhaler1 if I didnt think they were in love before I sure do now
inhaler2 literal evidence of my parents in love <33 inhalerfan3 for real I feel so passionately about these strangers
yourusername
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liked by evehewson and others
yourusername slow down more like .. go down/ soft sound/ midnight/ car lights ....
my idiot (lovable) friends are now my employers cause im joining them on tour in europe ahhh, a professional photographer some may say
bobbyskeetz war is fucking over we got ya
ryanmcmahon_15 about time!! gonna be lethal
lewevans ohh yeah cannot wait to see you in action!
(liked by elijahhewson,bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_)
yourusername too kind <33
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trumanblack just followed you!
authors note: ahhh part 2 which will probs flop, shes a long one! hope y'all enjoyed, please please enlighten me on your thoughts <33
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Please tell me I’m not the only one?
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purfectstormzz · 2 months
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Million Dollar Man | Logan Sargeant/ Elijah Hewson X reader (smau)
Summary: In which Y/n y/l/n meets the love of her life after losing the other one.
Pairings: Logan Sargeant x fem!ex!reader, Elijah Hewson x fem!actress!reader
A/n: I’m back with my Elijah Hewson x f1 fanfics! Also no hate intended towards Logan.
Masterlist
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Yourusername
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Liked by AlexAlbon, DanielRicciardo and 567000 others
Yourusername: Race weekend with my favourite people <3
Comments:
AlexAlbon: Wrong team y/n!
> DanielRicciardo: Alpha Tauri is the only right team😎
F1fans: “with my favourite people”. So where’s Logan🤔
> justaninchident: Right, he hasn’t been in any of her photo dumps and he hasn’t liked any of her pictures lately.
Lilymhe: My favourite person🫶🏼
> AlexAlbon: Tought I was your favourite person🤨
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Yourusername
📍Dublin, Ireland
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Liked by Lilymhe, AlexAlbon and 564900 others
Yourusername: Me, myself and I on a little get away!
Comments:
Lilymhe: You deserve it y/n/n🫶🏼
> F1fan3: I love how y/n and Lily are still friends even tho y/n and Logan probably broke up.
LoganSargeantfan2: Where is Logan????
Yourusername posted on their story:
📍Dublin, Ireland
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Caption: Getting to know the culture!
Replies:
Lilymhe: 2 pints😏 who’s the lucky one??
> yourusername: I’ll tell u all about it when I’m back😉
LoganSargeant: Y/n please answer your texts, also 2 glasses, who are you with??
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Yourusername
📍 Dublin, Ireland
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Liked by ElijahHewson, LoganSargeant and 564000 others
Yourusername: Dublin in ecstasy.
Comments:
Lilymhe: Babe it’s been a month, I need you back here😩
> Yourusername: I’ll be back in 2 weeks babe🫶🏼
Inhalerfan2: Girly spends a month in Dublin and is already an Inhaler fan
> ElijahHewsonsguitarstring: That guy in the second pic looks a lot like Eli🤔
> inhalerfan3: omg he does🤨
> Bobbyskeetzzzers2: That is definitely Elijah, look at the tattoo.
ElijahHewson: Am I not the best tour guide ever??
> yourusername: Definitely!
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Liked by ElijahHewson, Lilymhe and 5476000 others
yourusername: Brooklyn baby
comments:
Inhalerfan2: "Well, my bofriend's in a band"
ElijahHewson: Prettiest girl ever
>Yourusername: Prettiest boy ever <3
LoganSargeantfan2: Damn she moved on fast.
>Y/nswife: Girl shut up, they broke up 3 months ago and Logan cheated on her so let her be!
ElijahHewsonsguitarstring: From wag to rockstar gf, she’s such an icon😫
Yourusername
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Liked by ElijahHewson, LoganSargeant and 571000 others
yourusername: I too love Bono's son <3
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killersfool · 6 months
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hii! not sure if you’re open to requests but i’m going to give u a few ideas! most of these are for elijah hewson😭
falling asleep on the couch, waking up to not only a blanket around them, but eli squeezed in behind them
being in the studio with the band and messing about?? making jokes and being silly!
kissing and dancing in the kitchen to an old singe they both like?
eli taking care of you when you’re sick and just being super soft and caring!
spending valentine’s day together!
something about the reader playing with eli’s fingers to calm them down?
softly smiling at each other from across the room and also reassuring touches!
telling each other how much they love them
them cuddling in bed and pulling eachother closer
hope these spark your writing :))))
Kiss It Better | ELIJAH HEWSON
here's a short little thing inspired by this request!
PAIRING: elijah hewson x f!reader
WORDS: 1.5k
SUMMARY: eli's girlfriend is ill, elijah comforts her.
GENRE: hurt/comfort, fluff
WARNINGS: references to throwing up
I've never been so ill in my life. My nose is so runny. I've almost used every single packet of tissues in the kitchen cabinet right under the sink — which used to be a lot and now is very little. I've thrown up my insides into the loo way too many times to count on my fingers. Bent over the toilet, eyes pricking with tears, I've never felt so useless. At least the thought of my boyfriend getting back after his gig gives me something to look forward to. But it's far too late.
I'm staring at the TV screen. I hug my knees to my chest, attempting to generate some warmth. The blanket is upstairs — probably hiding in the space between the bed and the wall. Surely, if I attempt to stumble upstairs now, I'll just get stuck and end up falling asleep in the corridor.
I can't stop glancing at the door. I'm hoping for a doorknob twist, knock, ring of the doorbell, stamp of boots, low and raspy post-concert voice. But I'm just met with nothing. No signs of his arrival. He hasn't called me. He usually doesn't. He likes to surprise me. After having the worst migraine of my life, it would give me some comfort if he just gave me a hug. A warm Elijah Hewson hug would cleanse my mind.
Starting to realise that the TV is doing more harm than good, I switch it off. I'm beginning to see blurry triangular shapes and my eyes burn like they're on fire. The living room is pitch black. I'm freezing. I'm tired. I take two paracetamol tablets and chug some water. Curling up on my side, legs on the armrest, I close my eyes.
-
I wake up. Sunlight gleams through the gaps in the white curtains. My body is wrapped in a duvet, soft and warm. Skin is against mine. Arms are around my body, squeezing me tightly. He's shirtless. I can tell by the tufts of chest hair flicking at my shoulder. His head is on my back, curls all over my skin, lips between my shoulderblades. I don't want to move. I don't want to speak. He's asleep. Gentle snores, deep breaths, in and out.
I must've fallen into a deep sleep because I have no recollection of his arrival or him ever taking me upstairs. I'm usually a light sleeper. This migraine fully knocked me out. That's the best nights sleep I've had in a while. I'm especially thankful I managed to escape from work for the rest of the week.
Elijah's normally the little spoon when we hug like this. It's funny how the tables have turned. I think I prefer this though. But lying awake and tracing the muscles in his back always seems to calm me down.
I want to ask him how the show went and the reason for his tardiness. He had been playing in Glasgow, thankfully only a few miles away from me and had bought me tissues, chocolate and gave me an endless supply of kisses before he had to run down to meet the band.
Opening my eyes fully, I take a peek over at the bedside table. He's brought me more tissues, face masks, more chocolate and a box of sleep teabags.
I realise Elijah's awake when his fingers start to walk along my bare stomach and his mouth is at the juncture between my back and shoulder. He pulls my hair to the side, presses his wet mouth to my neck. He smells clean. I'm sure he's showered. His hair feels a little damp.
He keeps pulling me closer. Arms tightening like he's a boa constrictor. Cool rings on my stomach, large hands tugging at the waistband of my shorts.
"You feeling better?" He asks, between kisses, tongue tracing my jugular vein. It's unsettlingly nice. His words are always gruff the morning after the show. All the singing takes a toll. Makes him sound more mellow. Sometimes I worry for his vocal cords.
"Not really." I groan. A mind-numbing headache is still prodding at my brain and the brightness of the sun makes my eyes burn. He's got a hand on my forehead, cool fingers against fiery skin — checking the temperature.
"God, you're pale. And you're burning up. I should get the thermometer." He gets out of bed. The loss of weight of his body makes the mattress shift. I glance over at him. His hair has stuck up at the top, his bare back glows under the sunlight. He stands up. Sweatpants cling loosely to his hips, revealing the muscles of his abdomen and a chain circles around his neck. He leaves the room — not even giving me time to utter a word of annoyance at the sudden lack of touch.
Then he's back. He crawls into bed. The thermometer is between his index finger and thumb. I look at the cross tattoo on his palm, see the concentration on his face as he plays around with the buttons.
"It's just a migraine," I say but he's already turning it on and pointing at my mouth. I roll my eyes and separate my lips. He gives me a sly smirk, just making me sit like that for a moment. Then he puts the device beneath my tongue and waits patiently. I'm trying not to laugh at how awkward this is. I close my eyes to evade his gaze but I can still feel the force of his stare.
"You've got a fever." Dr Hewson alerts me with his expert diagnosis although the furrow of his brows makes him seem unsure. He looks down at the numbers displayed, rubbing his face with worry. "A really bad one." He's now searching up on his phone what it means.
"Should I go to the doctors?" I shuffle away from him. I don't want him to catch what I have. He has gigs all week, I don't want to ruin anything for him.
He notices my movement. Shaking his head, he drags me back towards him, making me nestle into his chest. His eyes are still darting along a website.
"I think you just need to rest. I'll make you breakfast." Elijah kisses my nose before running downstairs with his mind set solely on making some decent food.
Through the corridor, into the kitchen. He's forgotten where half the things are in the room. Opening cabinets, searching through the fridge, putting water into the kettle. Most of the time he'll get his breakfast on the way to a show. Maybe a café, maybe he'll steal some food from Ryan. Today, however, he's lucky enough to not have a gig and actually have time to look after his girlfriend. Although he's definitely going to make a mess of the place.
His final decision is to make omelettes. Oil on the frying pan, ham—leaving it to heat up until it's a little crispy. Two eggs, cracked and swirled in a glass. Cheese on top, grated with masterful excellence—at least that's what he believes. Folds it over to make it fill half of the pan. Let's it continue to fry. Then he's running over to make a cup of tea. He uses one of the sleep teabags he bought. He's just about to plate up when footsteps echo behind him.
I have to stop for a second when I walk into the kitchen. It's a rarity to see Elijah here, cooking for me. We started dating at the beginning of the tour which unluckily means that he's hardly ever home. He has to leave early in the morning and gets back really late. Whenever he has days off, he takes me on dates and walks, or we just laze around at home, basking in eachother's presence. There's times when he brings me along to the recording studio so that I can reprimand all the band members or give an outside opinion of their new songs.
Elijah seems so focused on getting this omelette perfect. He's running around the place. He grabs two pieces of bread to turn his dish into an omelette-sandwich. I stand in the doorway for a while, just watching him. But, I can't stop myself from nearing him. As he cuts an apple into a slices, I slide my arms around his stomach, pressing my head to his shoulder. He sighs quietly. I breathe in his scent, his comfort.
"You should be in bed," he whispers, although he doesn't seem to want me to let go. I shake my head as he looks at me.
There's music playing on the radio. I turn it up. It's a song by The Smiths. I'm swaying to the beat, moving Elijah along with me. He's still carefully chopping fruit into perfect pieces. Watermelon, strawberries, mango. My mouth is watering just looking at the vast array of flavours.
Elijah drops his knife, turns around to face me. His hands find my waist, his lips find my neck, his head burrows into my chest like he's a mole hiding under soil. We dance along to the crackle of music, feeling the melodies trickle into our bones. Just his presence makes me feel better, every kiss turns my negative thoughts to mush.
146 notes · View notes
sirenlulls · 7 months
Text
feels like ➞ e. hewson
pairing — elijah hewson x fem!reader (gracie abrams fc)
fic type — social media au
met you at the right time. this is what it feels like!
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♡ liked by gallagher_anais, izzyrichmond_, and 663,982 others
yourusername hello dublin!! i missed u angels sm 🫶 the last time i played a home show it was to a crowd of 200 at most & while i’ll always be grateful for those intimate shows and the family we built, i am so so so grateful and excited to play a sold out 3arena tomorrow with some very special guests ;) see you soon 💋
user SPECIAL GUESTS???? she’s definitely bringing inhaler out for a song or something
user no because didn’t she say on an ig live a few months ago that she helped eli write perfect storm…
user STOP ID CRY
joshjenkinson_ LFG!!!! 🤍🤍
user WHAT DO YOU KNOW JOSHUA.
evehewson beautiful beautiful girl 🫶
yourusername i love u to the moon and back by gorgeous eve ☹️💗
jordanjoyhewson ⭐️girl!! So excited for you x
user her friendship with eli’s sisters is so special to me
user im so excited i’ve been looking forward to this for months 😭😭
oliviarodrigo sososoooooooo proud of u baby 🥹
yourusername UGH!! my liv my life i love u too much
user you’ve grown so much in the past year im inconsolable
bobbyskeetz they were lovely leaves
yourusername getting the snow angel practice in early x
ynhq getting our bows ready!!
elijahhewson you betrayed me with that picture 💔
yourusername the job of a girlfriend is to humble, i’m sorry babe xx
phoebebridgers 🖤🖤🖤
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ryanmcmahon_15 just updated their story!
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♡ liked by jojolovedog, lizzymcalpine, and 721,798 others
yourusername thank u thank u thank u all for giving me the perfect end to an already perfect tour… speaking of perfect things…. thank u to my angels inhalerdublin for joining me onstage for an encore. i love u guys so much & performing with u was a gift in and of itself 🫶 i’ll miss performing live but i’m so happy to be able to settle down for a while with those close to me. i love u all so so so much. thank u for supporting me 💗💗💗
user do you understand how many lives were impacted by this show.
user this is my boobgenius
reneerapp born to serve 💋
inhalerdublin thanks for having us 🫶❤️
yourusername i was looking at josh when he typed this guys just fyi
ryanmcmahon_15 i, too, ❤️ inhaler!
nieveella stunning beautiful yummy delectable talented showstopping amazing gorgeous perfect (storm)!!!!!!!
yourusername love u sm ☹️💋
user my roman empire
katiegavs can i get a kiss… pls
yourusername anything for u 💋💋
user post concert depression has already started to kick in
user u and eli sharing a mic for the perfect storm chorus had me 🥹🥹🥹🥹 IM UNWELL
stellajones IT GIRLLLLLL
gallagher_anais don’t mind me, just sobbing in my little corner 🥺🫶💗
yourusername ani babyyyyy i love u sm ☹️☹️
yourusername updated their story!
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♡ liked by lilamoss, joshjenkinson_, and 699,810 others
yourusername a special thank u to this loser who means the world 2 me. don’t know why u decided to eat that paper but… i still love u forever and ever and ever and ever and… ever!!!
user omg the last pic in dying did they grow up together???
yourusername we went to the same playschool!! went to different primary & secondaries tho 💔
user THATS SO CUTE WTF
elijahhewson you love posting bad pics of me
yourusername you’re a leo you’ll be fine
elijahhewson love you and proud of you always 🤍
yourusername ILY BITCHHHHHHH
bobbyskeetz poor lad was starving
maisiehpeters so cute 🥹❤️‍🩹🎀
evehewson My faves ❤️❤️❤️❤️
user my alex turner & alexa chung fr
chappellroan IM CRYINGGGG YOU GUYS ARE THE CUTEST EVER
laufey 🥺🥺🥺💞💞💞
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Text
elijah hewson bf headcanons
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a/n: im obsessed with this man and this band.
loves to lay his head in your lap while he plays his guitar, figuring out chord patterns for a new song hes writing
all the songs he writes are about you (duh), you're his muse. the boys constantly tease him for it but he loves it
has the cutest face when he's concentrated and you love it
loves to hold your hand, have his hands wrapped around your waist, hands on your lower back. any sort of touch
immediately finds you in the crowd and sings directly to you. he loves seeing you dance around in the back of the pit
rockstar bf x rockstar gf like its a must
wears on of your rings on a chain when you can't be at a show ( which is rare). loves to have a reminder of you
him and the boys are always asking for your feedback on new songs. you're always the one to hear it first
brings you on stage to sing a verse of a song with him. its giving "about you" vibes
going out to pubs just to show you off
still gets super nervous and flustered around you. even tho he is a major major flirt
going on tour with the band is your favorite thing ever, from joking with them on the tour bus to dancing at the venue
forever takes photobooth pictures with you. they always end up with him kissing all over your face. he keeps them everywhere, in his wallet, in his phone case, wherever he can
def friends to lovers, took him wayyy to long to make a move, but when he finally did he couldnt keep away from you
loves when you play with his curls. he knows how much you adore them and he loves you raking your fingers through it
227 notes · View notes
lgwifey · 7 months
Text
perks of the job
Elijah hewson x fem!reader
Summary : an interview leads to a phone call… and maybe more ? (I’m really bad at writing summary’s)
warnings : none ?
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“I don’t think-”
“That’s correct y/n, you don’t think. I think and you interview.”
She blinked for a second as the middle aged man carried on walking ahead, looking down at her clipboard and letting her features drop as she looked back over the questions she’d been given to ask.
“Y/n ?”
The snap off her boss caused her to hurry up, trying to navigate the loose floor of the muddy festival in the heeled black knee high boots she’d been ordered to wear by the company’s stylist.
When she finally reached the cameras, without falling over somehow, she was created by the four musicians and her boss’s agitated expression.
“Guys, this is y/n. She’ll be the one interviewing you today. So the interview is for YouTube but it’s going to be published on a range of our socials.”
Y/n patted down her skirt before shaking everyone’s hands, leaving her clipboard on her chair for later on.
“Well I’ll leave you lot to get to know each other, if anyone needs me I’ll be at stage two with Alisha.”
Y/n gave a nod, allowing the older man to walk away whilst clocking the mocking face two of the camera operators where giving. She struggled to not laugh, a small smile on her face as she turned to the band.
“Hiya, so as Harry said I’m y/n, before we even turn the cameras on I’d just like to apologise for some of these questions, I literally begged him to change them but he’s refusing and I’d like to keep my job so if there’s anything you’d like for me to bring up in the interview please let me know so I can say I just swapped a few over for ones you all preferred. ”
Ryan gave a laugh, the other three following behind soon.
“What kind of questions are they if you’re apologising for them ?”
“Well let’s just say, from this sheet it looks like I’m interviewing U2. No offence Elijah but I usually like to make sure that the questions are targeted to each band member rather than just focusing on one.”
The brunette gave a laugh, sitting down on one of the seats like he’d been directed to do by another equipment operator.
“No offence taken.”
Y/n forced the blush off her face before sitting down as well, adjusting the pathetic excuse of s skirt that the wardrobes had gave her. Whoever designed this outfit had clearly never been to a festival.
The office buildings where dull, just like the basic black suits that all the male staff wore.
Y/n poured out the boiled water into the two mugs whilst Alisha carried on with her latest story on her latest obsession.
“Wait do you think I can get Harry to pay for my Rolling Stones tickets. I mean it is for work.”
She handed the light blue mug over to the excitable girl before nodding her head,
“I mean I did with my Leeds tickets, but I was interviewing people after . I’d still ask, worst he can say is no.”
“True, we’re too good at our jobs for him to even threaten to sack us girly.”
She blew a kiss before leaving to her office, the glamorous ‘periwinkle blue’ suit she’d recently bought. The other interviewer remained in the office kitchen, holding the hot cup in her hands to try and warm them up before she went back to typing up a manuscript to go alongside her last interview with an upcoming band.
When she finally worked up the willpower to go back to the typing, one of the new interns ran up to her with a mix of worry and confusion on his face.
“Urm, y/n ?”
She looked over from her laptop with a smile.
“Hiya Louis, what’s up ?”
“There’s someone asking for you on the phone, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”
“Oh yeah, did you take their name?”
Worry spread on his face before he shook his head.
“Ok, just put them through to my line.”
He gave a blink.
“Line 4?”
Another blink.
“Im avoiding this manuscript anyways, I’ll just come to the front desk Louis.”
It was almost as if he let out a held breath before she swizzled around all her half-projects and let him lead her to the phone that was being held. He left her to answer, moving the phone to the end of the desk so he could carry on with any clients waiting for the desk.
“Y/n Y/l/n, how can I help?”
“Hiya y/n, we just wanted to call and let you know we think you did an amazing job with that interview-”
Her eyes widened as towards the end of the sentence the strong Irish accent was pulled away and a crash echoed through the phone.
“Sorry about him, we don’t let him speak to the outside world for a reason. This is Eli by the way, in case you didn’t know.”
A faint “that hurt” could be heard from the other side and her lips curled up into a small smile.
“No it’s fine, I’m glad you liked the interview.”
“Yeah it was probably one of the best we’ve been in. I just wanted to check that you hadn’t been killed by your boss for changing those questions for us, but I couldn’t find a contact for you anywhere.”
“Oh yeah don’t worry about it, he was slightly annoyed but like Alisha says, we’re too good at our jobs for him to even threaten.”
He laughed slightly, Louis giving Y/n a confused look when he noticed her twirling the end of her hair with her finger.
“Good to know,”
He paused for a second, y/n unsure if she was supposed to speak again only for him to appear a moment later,
“Look I was wondering if there was any way I could contact you in the future, you know because we loved you interviewing us.”
“Are you asking for my number Mr Hewson ?”
The other side went quiet and y/n had to force herself to not laugh when all she could hear on the line was “mate you’re so bad at this.”
“Urm yeah? But in a professional context ?”
“Of course, of course. Don’t worry I’ll dm it to you on insta, it’ll be easier than trying to say it and messing up a million times.”
“Oh yeah, makes sense.”
“Okay, goodbye Eli.”
“Urm yeah, bye.”
“Let Robert know I said hi.”
The line cut just after she heard something being thrown.
Sometimes the job had its perks.
masterlist
129 notes · View notes
daintyprinc3ess444 · 3 months
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and my boyfriends in a band… he plays guitar while i sing Lou Reed
114 notes · View notes
inhalerupdates · 8 months
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HAPPY 24TH BIRTHDAY ELIJAH!!! 🎉❤️🎉❤️🎉
190 notes · View notes
msmoony7 · 4 months
Text
Inhaler holiday show with Eli Hewson
Summary: your boyfriend’s band performs their final show of the year
Word Count: 420
12 days of fics
masterlist
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“Good luck tonight,” you say, kissing your boyfriend on the cheek. 
“Thanks, love. I’ll see you after the show.” He gives you one final hug and walks onto the stage with the rest of his band to perform their final show of the year. After many long months of touring, following them for some and being apart for some more, you were excited for them to have a little break. For themselves, but also to be able to spend some much needed time with your boyfriend.
They play a few songs before Eli finally introduces the band to the crowd. 
“How are we all feeling tonight?” he shouts at the crowd and is met by cheers in response.
“Thanks for coming out so close to Christmas, you all look great tonight. Let’s keep this party going.”
The band starts playing their next song and the crowd starts singing along. Everyone in the audience is dressed for the occasion. Everyones dressed in reds and greens and golds, and Santa hats fill the crowd. At one point, Santa hats are thrown up onstage and Eli and his bandmates put them on, earning a roar from the crowd.
The band plays their final song before the encore and they come offstage for a few minutes. Eli looks gorgeous in his jeans and white tank top, you can’t believe how lucky you are to be his girlfriend.
“You’re great out there,” you say to Eli, “Go on, finish the show.”
He pulls you in for a deep kiss and goes back on stage to play the final two songs. 
“We’re gonna play a few more for you. Thanks for coming out tonight and giving us a great year. We’re gonna take some time off, but we’ll see you all very soon.”
The crowd is the loudest you’ve ever heard it. Finally, the boys finish the show and Eli comes off stage and wraps you in his arms. You can feel the adrenaline radiating off him, knowing this is exactly where he belongs. 
“I’ll never get tired of watching you perform. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, baby. This break is gonna be so nice, I’ve missed being with you.”
“Missed you too,” you say into his chest, “you deserve some rest, this years been crazy.” 
“Yeah, I know. C’mon, let’s go home.”
The two of you exit the venue and start making your way to your shared home. This year has been amazing, but you can’t wait to see what your future with Eli holds.
70 notes · View notes
kindestofkings · 3 months
Text
dear john
elijah hewson x singer!reader
(ex!charles leclerc cause hes a hot red flag)
plot: its giving friends to strangers to friends again to lovers 🫶🏼
face claim: laufey <3
warning: spelling mistakes
authors note: this is for the lovely anon who requested a speak now inspired smau ! Hope this is okay?!? I was tempted by doing something on the vibe of speak now the song but imma think on it 🫡
yourusername
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liked by charlesleclerc and others
yourusername wow last night on tour was something special 😢 to everyone who sangs my songs back to me and everyone who's supported my little dreams, I LOVE YOU.
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lucydacus killing it !
yourusername luv you <333
phoebebridgers voice of an ANGEL
yourusername ooh stop im blushinggg
charlesleclerc beautiful as always mon ange
ynfan1 post concert blues are toooo real
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wagsandstuff
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liked by ynfan1 and others
wagsandstuff huh that doesn't look like yourusername to us.... did the couple of 3 years break up without telling us??
view all comments
ynfan1 nooooooo that girl on twitter was right ah
ynandcharlesshipper charlessss man don't do this
charlesfan she was always feeding off of him
ynfan2 she has her own career you do know that right? she a really popular singer
ynfan2 not charles cheating on our QUEEN
yourusername just unfollowed charlesleclerc
yourusername just added to their story!
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lol gonna go heal my heart I guess lol
replies:
yourmum awh my beautiful girl :( glad you're coming home 💘
↳ can't wait to see you mam
yourbestfriend men are literal pigs.
phoebebridgers he's an idiot, here for you if you need anything
elijahhewson hey I know it's been awhile since we last spoke, but the lads and I are always here for you. I should've been better at keeping in touch, but I'm so sorry this happened to you.
↳ hey E, missed you! I'm just as much at fault, guess we all just got so busy with tours (both so successful heheh). where abouts in the world are you? I'm heading home for awhie maybe we could all catch up?
↳ elijahhewson deadly! myself, ryan and josh are home and bobby is back next week, call around whenever
inhalerfanaccount
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liked by inhalerfan1 and others
inhalerfanaccount did you guys know that yourusername is friends with inhaler??? I found all of these oldies while lurking her insta !
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inhalerfan1 bless they're so young, they all must of been friends during school !
inhalerfan2 crazy to think they've all become so successful
ynfan1 wow my two worlds colliding
ynfan2 I've always secretly hoped yn and eli would get together
inhalerfanaccount friends to strangers to friends to lovers hits soooo hard
yourusername
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liked by bobbyskeetz and others
yourusername time is a terrifying thing..
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yourmam I could probably find an even earlier pic...
bobbyskeetz I beg please no inhalerfan1 pleaseeeeee
elijahhewson smash x4
joshjenkinson_ the gang getting back together has 2024 winninggg
(liked by yourusername,ryanmcmahon_15 and others)
ynfan1 yesss bitch remind that silly boy who drives in circles of all the hot friends you have !!!
(liked by elijahhewson and others) ynfan2 hahahah eli woke up and choose chaos
yourusername
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liked by phoebebridgers and others
yourusername turning all this heartbreak into something good ! dear john is the rawest I've ever been in my songwriting, treat her with love x
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ynfan1 so so incredibly beautiful, thank you for sharing
lucydarcus you're a wonder
ryanmcmahon_15 sobbing uncontrollably and ready to fight him
bobbyskeetz you good bro ?
charlesfan1 tough day to be a charles fan
ynfan2 omg those lyrics are HEARTBREAKING
inhalerfanupdates
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liked by eliswife and others
inhalerfanupdates WHO HAS THIS MAN SO SMILEY???
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inhalerfan1 FOR REAL?? hes usually so moody
elijahhewson posted to their close friends!
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replies yourusername pure stalker when did you take this pic??
vogue
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liked by yourusername and others
vogue with just days before the release of her highly anticipated spohmore album we chatted to yourusername about love, loss and all things in between;
" you dont realise how easy love can be until you're with the right person. its the most annoying thing to hear when you dont have it but some how I was fortunite enough to discover"
find out what else the singer told us at the link in our bio !
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yourusername THANK YOU FOR HAVING ME
ynfan1 shes so happy and in love
ynfan2 how can one person be so talented, smart AND intelligent
charlesfan1 eww cant believe charles used to date her!
ynfan3 love how shes not petty like the leclerc fangirlies clearly still are..
yourusername
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liked by elijahhewson and others
yourusername a year and a half ago I had my heartbroken, felt completed untethered and so so confused. today I give you my pride and joy!
this album features songs I wrote as a sobbing mess, some I wrote while I was healing and finally some I wrote after I opened my eyes and embraced what I had all along.
I love them all, I love everyone who worked on it with me and I escially love you.
comments have been restricted
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yourusername
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liked by lucydarcus and others
yourusername one single thread of gold tied me to you <3
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elijahhewson hell was the journey
yourusername but it brought me heaven. bobbyskeetz gross yourusername child
joshjenkinson_ my parents
yourmam my favourite pair !
evehewson sobbing it was always meant to be
phoebebridgers the sweetest love for the sweetest soul
(liked by elijahhewson and yourusername)
ynfan1 OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG
finished
authors note: ahh im a broken record with the friends from home trope but its my favourite 🥲 hope you all enjoy, please as always let me know what you think!!
101 notes · View notes
Text
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𝓻𝓸𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭
(credits to@/kkenstewy on twitter)
223 notes · View notes
purfectstormzz · 6 months
Text
I wanna be yours | Elijah Hewson x reader
Summary: In which Elijah Hewson finds himself falling in love with the sister of a famous singer.
Pairing: Elijah Hewson x fem!Turner!reader
Warnings: Badly written story. (sorry guys)
A/n: the reader is about 24 so she’s way younger than Alex (hard truth; she wasn’t planned)
Masterlist
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It wasn’t a secret that the Turner siblings had a big age gap. At 13 years old, Alex was blessed with the birth of his baby sister. At first he wasn’t thrilled but when his sister finally arrived he was more than happy. He couldn’t deny the fact that he loved her more than anything, he promised his mother that he would protect and take care of her for the rest of his life. And he did, Alex made sure that every guy that came into her life treated her right and if they didn’t they were in a lot of trouble. At 16 years old Alex started a band with his friends and 3 year old Y/n was his biggest fan. She was at all the band meetings, the repetitions and even at their first gig.
Throughout the years Y/n grew up and became more interested in boys. Whenever Y/n came home with a boyfriend or just a boy in general, Alex made sure that he was a good guy and if they weren’t he made sure that they were too scared to even come back.
Y/n became older and Alex’s band became famous. Y/n loved being at their concerts and made sure to tell everyone how awesome her brother was. When she was 17 she discovered her passion for playing guitar. With a little help of her brother, she became talented in playing the guitar.
Now a 24 year old Y/n and a 37 year old Alex were closer than ever before. The Arctic Monkeys were extremely successful and Y/n couldn’t be more proud of her older brother. Y/n started her own music school for kids and teens who want to learn and play guitar just like her. But her full time job was supporting her brother at his concerts. Y/n tried her best to be at all of the concerts and she made sure to show everyone how proud she was.
“So have you guys found a new opener for your shows yet?” Y/n asked her brother while pouring herself a drink in his dressing room. “Matt found this new band who want to open up for us.” Alex answered getting of the sofa to get ready for the show. “Oh and have you met them yet?” the younger Turner asked. “I haven’t but Matt has and he said that they’re good so guess I have to believe him.” Alex answered walking towards his closet and pulling his suit out. “Alright sis I need to get dressed so I’ll see you after the show.” He said giving his sister a kiss on her forehead. “Alright, good luck.” She said before walking out of his dressing room.
Y/n made her way trough the corridors to get to her spot for the concert, she looked around the big hallways and couldn’t deny that she was lost. She didn’t know where she was supposed to go. She turned around a corner and walked further along the hallway. After walking for what felt like half an hour, Y/n finally saw someone who might know the way to the concert hall. “Hey sir can I ask you something.” She called out to the man in front of her. The guy turned around and y/n was met with the prettiest guy she had ever seen. “Sure.” He answered looking at the girl. His brown eyes looked directly into hers. “Do you maybe know where the private upper levels are?” She asked nervously. The boy gave her a smile before saying. “Sure, I’ll lead you the way.” The pair walked trough the hallways. “So, what’s your name.” The boy asked trying to make the walk less akward. “I’m y/n.” She told him. The pair turned a corner and walked further along. “What’s your name?” Y/n asked the brunette in front of her. “I’m Elijah but you can call me Eli.” He answered. “What brings you here Eli?” The girl asked. “I’m part of the band that’s opening for the band.” Eli said. “Oh that’s awesome. What instrument do you play?” Y/n asked. “I’m the lead singer but I also play the guitar.” The boy answered. The pair chatted a bit longer before they finally arrived at the upper levels.
“So here it is.” Eli said giving y/n a smile. “I have to get back to the dressing room because we have to be on stage in 10 minutes.” He said giving her one last smile before turning to walk out of the door. “It was nice meeting you Eli.” Y/n smiled after him. “I hope I’ll see you again Y/n” the brunette said before walking away into the hallway.
Y/n took a seat in one of the chairs sitting next to Amanda, Matt’s wife. The both of them talked for a few minutes until the lights went out. Four boys walked onto the stage and y/n saw Elijah walking up to his microphone. The band started the show by playing ‘These are the days’. Y/n sat in her chair admiring the boy that she just met. The crowd loved the band and the younger Turner couldn’t help but smile looking at the boy.
The band ended their set by playing ‘My honest face’ and then disappeared behind the curtains. Y/n sat in her chair waiting for her brother’s band to come on stage. She couldn’t stop thinking about Eli and how good he was on the stage. The girl was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the door to the upper levels open. “Hey, is this seat taken?” She heard a familiar voice say. Y/n looked up and saw Elijah standing there giving the girl a sweet smile. “No, no you can sit there.” She told him smiling at the boy. “So we meet again.” Eli laughed. The pair talked about the band’s performance and about how Inhaler got to open for the Arctic Monkeys.
Alex and the rest of the band appeared on the stage and the crowd went wild. Elijah still didn’t know that he was sitting next to the sister of The Alex Turner. The band started playing their songs and Y/n and Eli sang along together. The both of them enjoyed the show a lot.
After the show ended Y/n and Eli walked out of the upper levels. They turned a hallway before Eli asked her. “Could I maybe get your number?” Y/n turned around looking at the boy. “I know that we just met but I think you’re really nice and I really want to know you better.” Eli said looking the girl into her eyes. “Oh yeah sure.” She said before giving the boy her phone to type his number. Y/n and Elijah exchanged numbers. “I’ll call you when I get to my hotel room.” The boy smiled. Y/n couldn’t help but admire how cute his smile was, she got butterflies in her stomach every time the boy smiled.
Y/n and Eli parted ways. He walked towards his dressing room getting ready to go to his hotel room while she walked towards her brother’s dressing room.
Alex stood in his dressing room waiting for his sister. He was ready to go to their hotel but just had to wait for his sister. Y/n walked through the door giving her brother a smile. “You guys were amazing.” She smiled. “Thanks sis, let’s go to the hotel now.” Alex said giving his sister a tired smile.
The siblings arrived at their hotel and y/n went into her hotel room while Alex walked towards his. “Goodnight Alexander.” Y/n said knowing how much he hates it when people say his full name. “Goodnight kiddo.” He said back before walking into his room and shutting the door behind him.
Y/n sat on her hotel bed looking at her phone. She was waiting on the call from Eli. After waiting for a while, Eli finally called her. She picked up the phone and heard his tired voice through the phone. “Hey.” Eli said, you could hear the smile in his voice. “Hey, did you get to you hotel oké?” Y/n asked him. “Yeah we got here pretty easy. A few crazy fans but nothing we haven’t handled before.” He laughed. The pair talked for another hour before Eli asked. “Do you want to go do something?” Y/n was speechless. She couldn’t think anymore, was he really asking her out?? “Of course I want to go do something with you.” She finally answered after staying quit for a bit.
Eli and Y/n made plans to go to a café tomorrow afternoon before both of them went to bed. Both of them fell asleep with the biggest smile on their face. They couldn’t wait for it to be the next day…
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killersfool · 6 months
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fluff w bobby! idk smth like hurt/comfort. maybe she’s had a bad date and goes to bobby and they like confess , idrk but i think that’d be cute
Comfort | ROBERT KEATING
thank you for the request !!
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PAIRING: robert keating x f!reader
WORDS: 3.4k
SUMMARY: reader goes on a terrible date. she calls her old work friend, rob, who comforts her and opens up about some hidden feelings.
GENRE: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, fluff
WARNINGS: references to eating disorder
The worst date of my life occured on a Tuesday afternoon, starting at exactly 8.43pm. For starters, the guy was late, 13 minutes late on the dot. Never trust your Tinder matches. I guess I should've figured out what a mess the whole thing would be. I'd sat down at a window seat in Nando's. Sun glowed gently across the table. It gave me a positive outlook on the whole thing. But by the end of the evening, as I left that dreaded restaurant with a soggy bag of chips in my right hand, I was holding back tears. Rain was pouring. My umbrella had broken. Dark clouds had appeared in the sky. Pathetic fallacy. I could hardly even breathe as I sat down in the train. 
My first port of call — for some odd reason — was my old work friend. Rob and I had worked together in a restaurant just down my street. We'd been through hell together. My worst memory was when I dropped about ten glasses across the kitchen floor, accidentally smashing them to pieces. The manager heard the crash ring out through the entire restaurant. He ran through the kitchen doors. They swung open as if he was a wild beast prepared to eat me whole. Bones and all. This was the first time I'd made a major mistake as a kitchen porter. I was trying to prepare myself for the incessant shouting to soon ensue. But before I could even build a wall around me, a hand grabbed mine and pulled me out of the kitchen. I wasn't sure who it was grabbing my pinky finger or why they were helping me escape but I didn't complain, I just let them lead me through the main restaurant where guests were staring at us with patient eyes. They really believed we were running around just to ask for their order.
The long mane of curly hair made me realise who was dragging me alone. Robert Keating. The waiter who's sarcasm was off the charts. Each time he came into the kitchen, he'd be going on a rant about how stupid the job was and how much he hated the manager. Most of the chefs agreed. But they'd make sure to put on cheery faces whenever Mr Jacob came in to check everything was alright. Robert had worn Doc Martens to the beach when they had a dinner party to celebrate 10 years of the restaurant. I had made sure to come along with my best dress on and trainers. Robert had appeared with some Doc Marten boots, red shorts and Joy Division shirt, assuring everyone that his boots were 'made for walking on sandy terrain'. Then he complained about them for the entire time. He didn't make any sense.
Once we'd escaped through the front door of 'Jacob's Pizza', we continued running down the street until we got to the park. I knew by that moment I'd sure be fired. No one was running after us. No one really gave two shits about us. We weren't a necessity to the work force. We were just there. Looming.
Rob had sat down on one of the kid's swings (the tiny ones that you can't get into once you grow out of them). He allowed his infinitely long legs to dangle off the edge—not putting them through the holes because he'd surely get stuck which would've been a very Rob thing to do. The park was empty. It was a Tuesday evening. Stars lined the sky. Rob patted the swing next to him, asking me through his motions to join him. I complied. Awkwardly slotted myself in a mildly comfortable position onto the swing. I grabbed onto the rusty chains which had been there for dozens of years. Paint ripped away by years of use, years of bad weather.
"Mr Jacob didn't deserve us. We were too good for him." Sixteen-year-old Rob always thought quite highly of himself—not to the point of being a show off—but just enough to make you shake your head. The use of the collective pronoun was different for him. A change to usual. He was including me in his declaration of greatness. His blue eyes were shining and he'd thrown his apron to the ground. Black button-up shirt and black trousers. His smile was a lighthouse, illuminating that stretch of grass before us.
"I fucked up. Sorry, Rob." I'd looked away from him. Wrung my fingers together, picked at my nails. We'd been working there for months. Of course I had to be the one to make a mistake.
"Hey, don't worry. There's loads of jobs around here. I'm sure you'll find somewhere else," he assured. He reached out a hand between the two swings, let it linger on my shoulder. I followed suit with him. Chucked my apron into the nearest bin. One of those bins that never get emptied. Overflowing with fizzy drinks and sweet packets.
I allowed my head to drop down onto his hand. His fingers took a short hike through my hair. 
He then started to laugh. "How the fuck did you drop all those glasses? I swear you purposely tipped the tray over."
"What if I did?" I smirked. It had been accident. Or maybe my irritation at the place just wanted to come out. 
Rob was pressing his shoes to the ground, trying to make the swing fly upwards. He'd smiled to himself at my words. "Then I thank you for your service. I'd been trying to get out of there for a while. My band are getting way more gigs and the job was getting in the way of everything."
"Your band? You've never told me about that." I was intrigued. I had no idea he played an instrument. I knew that he loved The Strokes as he'd always put them on the kitchen playlist. I couldn't imagine him on a stage. Performing. Making music. It was the last thing I'd expected he'd do.
"Yeah. We've called it Inhaler. An ode to Eli's asthma—"
"Hewson? He's in it? Fuck no." I'd never been the biggest fan of Elijah. He'd dated my friend and left her heartbroken. I'd never personally spoken to guy but from a distance, I was the slightest bit terrified of him. 
"I had no choice! He forced me into it."
"So he's singing, right? Then you're playing what?"
"Bass."
"Really? That's..."
"So sexy. I know."
That's when I shook my head, smiling. His face was serious but as my teeth appeared, so did his. We were both laughing at nothing, giddy because of the air cooling our cheeks. Just his presence, him being next to me, made me feel so much warmer.
Now my eyes are teary, my throat is raw. I'm sat in the corner of a train compartment. Toddlers are screaming at their parents, music is blasting in my ears and the fields turn to blurs of green as I lean back into my seat. 
The guy was a prick. A self-centered waste of time who thought the whole world revolved around him and only him. I was asking all the questions. He didn't want to know anything about me. His mouth would never stop moving. I hardly got a single word into any conversation. He showed off about his job, his money, the university he went to and he joked about how much I ate. He'd stared at my stomach when I stood up, as if he was trying to measure my waist with his eyes. That's when I just walked out of the place, taking my remaining chips with me. I don't know why I even agreed to go. He wasn't even nice on the app.
Phone ringing. Hand over my stomach. I had gained weight. I'd started eating more than I had months ago. Food was a comfort, food was a memory-store, food was something to keep me going. There were all kinds of flavours that would bring me back to figments of my past. Eating was a way to reminisce and a way to make new memories. It had irked me—that look in his eye, the raise of a brow. I was skinnier on my Tinder profile. But back then I wasn't happy. Constantly focused on my calorie intake, on how much exercise I had done in a week. 
"Hello?" Rob picks up. His words play through my headphones. His voice hasn't changed since I last saw him. It's still low and raspy.
I sniffle, finding it hard to even get my words out. I can see in the train window that my skin is blotchy and red. My bottom lip is quivering. I'm trying to hold everything in. I'm like a bomb on the verge of explosion. I don't like crying. I especially don't like crying on a train where eyes are glancing over in my direction.
"You alright?" He whispers. It's 10pm and I'm wondering what he's been doing. Has he been at a show? I've been trying to keep a track of where they've been going on their tour. Right now he could be absolutely anywhere. The last I heard he was in Scotland.
"What are you up to?" I try to divert the conversation to him. I just want to hear him talk. Anything he tells me, I'll listen.
"I'm back home in Dublin. Eating mince pies. I know it's early but my Ma is too obsessed with Christmas for her own good. It's what, 2nd of November? And she's already got her tree up. Tinsel and everything. What's up with you? You sound different. Has Eli been giving you shit again? That gobshite needs his head knocked in."
He's in Dublin. I'm in Dublin. 
"I miss your Ma." I remember the one time we walked home from work together. His Ma had given me a lung constricting hug. She'd thought I was Rob's girlfriend. Told me that he non-stop talked about me. I didn't believe her. I still don't believe her. I could never see Rob having a crush on anyone, let alone me. "It's nothing to do with Eli. Although I agree, he is a little bitch. It's actually this shitty bloke I met on Tinder. He thought he was all that. Most boring guy I've met in my life."
"Instagram, please?"
"I don't trust you with anyone's Instagram."
"At least tell me his name. I want to make fun of him."
"Albert."
"What a name. Honestly, I'm thinking about getting my name legally changed to that. Albert. Wow. I'm impressed." 
"He told me his nickname was 'Alby'. I almost laughed." I smile to myself, wiping tears away. I hear Rob snort through the phone. 
"Found his Instagram. That was easy. He looks weird. Shit hairline."
"Rob!!! Keep away from his DM's please."
He went silent. He was most definitely already sending him stupid messages. I didn't really mind. The guys deserved shit after what he put me through. Two hours of nonsense. At least the food was good. Nando's is my favourite.
"Aren't you in Dublin? Do you want to come play some bird bingo? It's been a while since I saw you. We've got at least a years supply of mince pies."
I'm cheesing. Sucking in quick breaths as my tears stop falling. The train comes to a halt in the station. My head is leaning against the window, my mouth opens wide as I see a figure sat down on a bench. That familiar mop of hair, those shining eyes, an entire bass guitar case sat beside him. I'm gobsmacked.
The call ends before I can try to speak. Before long, my legs are moving and I'm shuffling through crowds, trying to find the exit. Maybe I was just imagining him. Maybe I just wanted him to be there. But then I'm outside the train, walking down the platform and two arms wrap around my stomach. 
"Hey," is all he says, straight into my ear.
He isn't usually this touchy. We used to go for coffee and he'd never hug me. We weren't that kind of friends. Now his arms are holding me flush against his chest and his hair is tickling my ear and I just want to close my eyes and blow the world away.
I turn around to face him. His hands are still on my waist, scrunching the material of my jumper. He has a cardigan on, his eyelashes are so long, he's watching me with worry etched upon his features. 
Then I break down. I can't deal with it anymore. I can't hold it in.
"Sweetheart..." He pulls me straight into his chest, hands cupping my head like it's going to split into two. I sob into his cardigan. My palms are against his shoulderblades and his head is on my shoulder. I can feel his nose smush into my skin and he mumbles quiet comforts into the air. "He doesn't deserve you. He's an idiot. Piece of shit." Words of comfort are usually just insults from Rob—but they still make me feel way better.
I don't know what I would've done without him. I keep imagining myself going home and crying into my pillow, no one there to tell me it'll be okay. I'm so glad he's here. I'm so glad he's holding me.
"Let's go home?" He pulls me away the slightest bit just to see my face. His thumb jumps just beneath my eye, wiping away the falling tears. He then gently kisses my nose. I'm shocked and confused. The warmth of his lips against my freezing nose is a welcome relief. I'm sure a sigh escaped my lips at the gesture. 
I'm not sure which home he means. His or mine. But wherever we're going, I'll follow him. I want to be somewhere warm. I want to eat some nice, warm food and forget that guy ever even existed. Rob still has an arm around me as we walk through the station. He gives me a packet of tissues and buys me a hot chocolate from Starbucks. Even whilst carrying his entire bass along on his other shoulder, he makes sure to keep an arm around my back, fingers curled over my waist. 
"How come you've got your bass?" I taste the hot chocolate. It burns my tongue. My spare hand points along the rather massive case which is definitely heavy.
"I was practicing with the band. I was about to head home when you called me so I ran to the station instead."
"So you lied about the mince pies?"
"Oh no. That is very true. You'll see when we get back. I just lied about where I was—you know, for the surprise element."
His then. We are going to his. I've never been inside his house before. I've only walked down his street and glanced through the windows. He'd always have the best Halloween decorations. The Keating house was always a go to in order to get the best sweets. His mum would come out dressed in the most flamboyant costume possible. Rob would always be standing beside her, forced forwards with a bag of sweets in his hands. 
Up past his parents' cars. Still some Halloween stickers on the windowsill and pumpkins next to the welcome mat. He twists his key in the door. It clicks and opens up to a corridor. He was right about the Christmas decorations. Snow globes on a bookshelf,  wreath on the door, Christmas tree lights are colourful through the window. The whole living room is dark green.
The house is silent. The dishwasher is wildly spinning and wind is wailing. Other than that it is extremely quiet. And warm. So very warm. I can actually feel my fingers now. 
Rob takes my hand once I've pulled off my shoes. He pulls me along into the living room, we crash down onto the sofa.
"Tell me everything," he says. He stretches out his legs and places his feet on the coffee table. He has fluffy socks that have the face of a red robin. "All the nitty gritty. Get it all out of your system."
"I don't even know where to start." I pull at the skin of my cheek, look up at the ceiling. "We went to Nando's. It was my idea. I got there bang on time but had to wait for ages for him to get there. He was late—"
"First red flag."
"Right? I should've just left. Anyway, he came in. Blamed his lateness on traffic when he literally lived in the town I went to. Like wouldn't you just walk? He ordered hardly any food then got all weird when I ordered my usual. I had a pudding too. He was just so judgy. He told me about his degree in Maths and how he was doing a phD. He didn't seem to impressed about my Law degree. He barely even let me talk. Then the last thing, the cherry on top, was when he stared at my belly when I stood up as if I had some kind of disease. I felt ill. I've never been so insecure in my life."
Rob's mouth was open wide, jaw dropped. He kept his eyes on mine. Listening. It was so nice to have someone just hear what I was saying for once. 
"You're the prettiest, most intelligent girl— I'm going to have a right word with that nob— I'm going to have a right fucking word with him. He thinks he can just..." His burst of emotions makes him stand up and pace around the room. I smile at his compliments but frown when he starts to get angry.
"It's fine. I'm here now. I don't have to think about him again."
Rob sits down again. Then his head falls onto my stomach. He closes his eyes. His arm reaches over for the coffee table. He grabs two mince pies. One for me, one for him. Bending his arm and extending it, he passes one up to me. I gratefully take it. I peel off the metal then take a bite. It’s delicious. Rob is smiling up at me. There’s a little pastry on his chin. I wipe it away with my thumb. My finger seems to have a mind of its own. It starts to trace lines along his face. Beauty spot to beauty spot. Like his skin is paper and I’m doing a join the dot. My thumb lands back on his lips and I trace along the two pink shapes. A little chapped, warm and soft. He opens his eyes again. 
Then I’m hit by this weird feeling. Like I’m reaching a high. Or I’m slamming the accelerator. Or I’m at a claw machine and finally win a prize. That hum of euphoria, singing through your ears. He’s twisting his head on my belly like it’s a pillow. My thumb is still at the corner of his mouth. My heart is beating in my ears. There’s something clicking. A realisation.
I’m in love with Rob. I’ve always been in love with him.
“Look, I know this is a really bad time to say this,” Rob speaks. His words a gruff. I listen intently. 
“What’s up?” I brush his hair out of his face. Curls between my fingers.  
“You’ll think I’m stupid.”
“I won’t.”
“You will.”
Rob closes his eyes again. He breathes out. He looks for my other hand and places it on his chest, his hand resting just above it. I can feel his heart pounding like crazy. I never knew a human heart could move so quickly. I never knew that here, in this dimly lit room, after my heart has been torn into two separate pieces I’d be feeling Rob’s heart under my fingertips.
“Geez, Rob. Am I that scary?” I stroke his hair again, his fingers now grazing my knuckles.
“Yeah, terrifying.” 
“Just tell me. What is it?”
“I love you.”
The whole room falls apart. My whole body feels like it’s been ripped into two then sewn back together. His eyes close again but he peeks a little with his left one just to gauge my reaction. I’ve stopped moving. My brain isn’t working. 
“Christ. Really?” I whisper.
“Yes. I think of you every time I buy pizza, every time it’s Halloween, every time I’m drinking from a glass. Everywhere I go, you’re there. Whenever we went for coffee, I’d feel empty when you left. It just—even when you told me about this date. I was jealous at first. I want to take you on dates and fall in love with you even more.”
He sits up. He grabs onto both of my cheeks.
“I love you too,” I say before pulling him into a kiss.
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