storiesabouteli

[storiesabouteli]

MotorBoy. // Elijah Hewson X Reader! (Fluff)

prompt: reader dealing with the fear of being a passenger and riding a motorcycle with Eli. (I know Eli looks like the type to stick to scooters, but to make it more believable, I tried to describe a slightly more plausible bike.)

words: 2k

  Eli's curls were disheveled, his skin slightly flushed, and he was grinning at you—a radiant, toothy smile. It was a little different from his usual one, subtle enough to go unnoticed if you weren’t paying close attention. His eyes, however, gleamed with an extra spark whenever they landed on you. Your stomach churned nervously as you took in the sight of him leaning on his motorbike, the helmet balanced on the handlebar.

 You had told him last time that you were okay with it, but despite finding the whole “bike thing” charming, you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about being on that thing yourself.

 "Everything good?" he asked, leaning closer, his fingers brushing your waist lightly before tightening in a grounding embrace. He’d greeted the table earlier, and the bar conversation had continued without much input from you—you were too fixated on the motorbike and how rash you’d been in agreeing to leave with him when he’d brought it. You nodded silently, feeling the weight of his gaze on you.

 He kissed your lips, and you slid your fingers around the nape of his neck, not in a vulgar way, but keeping him close for a few more minutes. The steady rhythm of it calmed your nerves. When he pulled away, he took a sip from your beer, ordered another for himself, and handed yours back.

 Eli seamlessly rejoined the conversation with the guys, his charisma making it effortless. You didn’t feel quite as at ease but appreciated how he made it a priority to ensure you were comfortable. His arm stayed draped around you, and whenever you spoke, even quietly, he inclined his head just slightly toward you, ensuring he caught every word. If your voice got lost in the noise, he’d answer you, even if it was just the two of you talking, and at the right moments, he would repeat what you said so the person you were speaking to could hear as well.

 You weren’t used to this—not yet. Maybe it was because your previous relationships had been disasters, but moments like these mattered to you.

 "Thanks for coming," he said later as you were watching the streetlights gleam against his leather jacket and the buckle at his waist. His hair was slightly flattened by the humidity, but he still looked so handsome.

 "I like them," you admitted, your hands trembling slightly as your voice caught in your throat. You understood his cautious tone, as if he thought you might not want to be here. But you were trying—you wanted him to like you.

 "They like you too, y’know," he replied. "I’m glad you’re feelin’ more comfortable."

 You raised your eyebrows at that, considering it. It was true—you weren’t as anxious around his friends as you had been the first time.

 "The train’s still open at this hour. You don’t have to, you see?" You hesitated, stopping in front of the motorbike. "You don’t have to go with me... I mean, I can just take the train."

 Eli shook his head, parking the bike closer to the bar and signaling to someone inside to keep an eye on it. "I’ll come back for it later. Either way, I’d have given you my helmet since yours hasn’t arrived yet. There’s no rush."

 You turned to him, still nervous. He pulled you into a hug, and you couldn’t help but smile despite yourself. "I wasn’t going to let you ride without a helmet," he said firmly. The trip was short, through familiar streets, and you knew plenty of people didn’t even bother with helmets. But you’d started insisting that he always wear one, no matter how short the ride.

 "Well, I wasn’t going to let you ride without one either," you teased, laughing against his chest. He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead and brushing your hair back from your face.

 "No rush, okay? I mean it. Worst case, I could start driving a car, huh?"

 The train ride was short enough that you didn’t bother sitting down. Eli stood close to you, his scent surrounding you in a way that felt reassuring. He was being honest with you—about everything.

 "You really bought me a helmet?" you asked, glancing up at him as the train swayed slightly. He held your waist a little tighter, keeping you steady. His curls brushed your cheek.

 "Yeah," he admitted, his voice soft. "I found one I think you’ll like. But seriously—you don’t have to do this just because I do."

 You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. Maybe there wasn’t so much to be afraid of after all.

…

 Your helmet was lavender, with subtle sparkles, and Eli had even bought a pack of stickers for you to decorate it. It was beautiful, and you genuinely liked it. You planned to make good use of it.

 “You okay, little one?” he asked after it took you a while to get on the motorbike. He’d waited patiently, not rushing you at all. He wouldn’t start the engine until you were sure you were okay with it, as promised. Resting your chin on his shoulder, clad in dark leather, you abruptly wrapped your arms around his waist, practically immobilizing him.

 He chuckled lightly, a soft, amused sound escaping through his nose. You could imagine his lopsided grin. You were holding him so tightly you were convinced he could hear your heartbeat hammering against your ribs. You also couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes.

 “Alright, take it easy,” he whispered, his voice soothing. Gently, he moved your cold hands from gripping him like a vice and slid them under his jacket so he could still steer. Your cheeks burned, but Eli seemed to find the whole thing endearing, maybe even a little funny.

 “Sorry, I think I’m ready now,” you mumbled, though your muffled tone didn’t sound entirely convincing.

 “That’s okay. I’ll go slow, I promise,” he said softly. His hands briefly rested over yours, warming them up before letting go. He narrated each step, keeping an eye on you through the rearview mirror. Your helmet sparkled, your hair peeked out messily, and he could feel your uneven breaths against his neck.

  “We don’t have to do this now, you know,” he said again, already prepared to put the bike in motion.

 “Oh, for God’s sake, just go, Eli,” you snapped, exasperated. And then the wind picked up, brushing against your face, drying your mouth. You clung to him tighter, as if that were even possible. Your arms and legs locked around his frame, and Eli seemed perfectly at ease with it.

 He didn’t drive fast—not even close. You could hear his breathing, steady and calm. Occasionally, he glanced at you in the mirror until, finally, you opened your eyes. His smile broke out immediately.

 “You good?” he asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

 You rolled your eyes a bit, and Eli laughed, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

 “Eyes on the road,” you muttered.

 “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, pretending to be all serious as he carefully obeyed. He might’ve been the only person in history worried about getting ticketed for driving too slow.

…

 You had a blue sweater that casually matched your helmet and was one of your favorites. Eli always reminded you to bring a jacket because, while it might be warm during the day, riding back on the bike at night could mean facing an unbearable wind. Yet, you often forgot, playing tough and stubborn, only to end up wrapped in his jacket. You’d ride home clinging to him, but it was clear your body wasn’t enough to keep him warm. He’d arrive with the tip of his nose red and his eyes watery, even though he always rode cautiously. You couldn’t help but curse yourself for that.

 As a result, most nights out at bars ended with Eli holding your blue sweater when you weren’t wearing it. It was pretty adorable. Eli’s wardrobe leaned towards neutral tones, nothing overly colorful, but he didn’t mind carrying your royal blue sweater around.   During the summer, when it wasn’t really necessary, Eli kept it stored in the motorbike’s internal compartment, just in case.

 And honestly, Eli didn’t mind the feeling of your cold nose resting against his neck or the soft fabric brushing against him as you held on tight. There were plenty of little things about those moments that he’d grown to love.

…

 The sun had added a warm flush to Eli’s cheeks, deepening the freckles scattered across his face. His shoulders were peppered with sun-kissed dots, and his chest glowed with a faint redness. You smiled at him, brushing his damp hair back and sliding his sunglasses up into place. “So they don’t block your view,” you said with a playful wink. He nodded, pulling on a tank top.

 You were wearing shorts and just the top half of your bikini—it was vacation, after all, and judging by your surroundings, it was perfectly fitting. The two of you had rented a nearby beach house for the holiday, planning to spend it together.

 “I think I’ve got a shirt here if you want one,” Eli offered, adjusting your hair the same way you had done for him before placing a soft, slightly wet kiss on your forehead.

 “I’m fine, it’s way too hot for that,” you replied. He studied you for a moment before letting it go, though in the back of his mind, he preferred you more covered—not out of modesty, but because it felt like protection. Swallowing the thought, he simply nodded.

 He climbed onto the bike and offered his hand, waiting for you to hop on behind him. As he rode, Eli kept glancing at you in the rearview mirror. Your eyes, tinged with redness from fatigue, were still fixed on the road ahead. His heart pounded—not the exhilarating kind of rush, but an anxious thrum.

 Your hold on him was familiar, one arm wrapped around his waist, fingers clutching at his tank top like it was a paper. The other arm looped across his torso horizontally, pulling his back snug against your chest. It was an oddly comforting embrace.

 You pressed your nose against his warm shoulder, letting your damp hair cool his skin. After a moment, your face burrowed deeper into him, and the grip of one arm on his chest loosened slightly.

 “Babe?” he called, his voice low but not quite a whisper. You hummed in response, your fatigue pretty evident.

 Glancing back at you through the mirror, he noticed your head drooping further, your forehead resting against the back of his neck. Your eyes were closed now, hidden from view. While it was nice knowing you felt safe enough to relax, the thought of you falling asleep wasn’t comforting.

 “Talk to me, yeah? Keep me company,” he urged, giving your hand a few light pats.

 “Eli, I’m just a little tired,” you muttered, slightly irritated. Talking wasn’t exactly what you wanted right now.

 He checked the mirror again, catching the mess of your wind-tousled hair haloed by the sunlight and the subtle glow on your skin. He thought you looked stunning.

 “You don’t have to answer, but I can’t let you fall asleep back there,” he said, his voice steadier this time. “I’m worried something might happen to you.”

 The way he spoke so earnestly made it clear he’d thought about this before. It wasn’t something you’d considered—falling asleep and the risks that came with it—but he was right.

 “Alright,” you murmured faintly, knowing he hadn’t heard you. Leaning forward, you pressed a kiss to the side of his helmet, earning a soft laugh from him.

 “Thank you,” he said, his relief evident. You bit your lip, smiling as you saw color rush to his cheeks. He really was adorable.

 “So, do you know what you’re getting to eat yet?” you asked, shifting the conversation. “I want to order some different jams to try with the fries.”

 He grinned, his eyes back on the road. “Not sure yet, but that sounds good.” He knew, without question, that if he had looked away, you’d have found a way to grab his attention anyway.

[storiesabouteli]

Does anyone have any ideas for Christmas or New Year fics? 👀

[storiesabouteli]

Overthinking time of sharing, but I wanted to post a fic with Noel (which would be a recycling of an old one I wrote with Alex on the other account but it didn't work out... but I would improve it)... and I'm intrigued about which account to post it on lol, I wanted to leave this account just for the boys, even because of the name and initial reason, but it hurts me to go into the other account and remember the bad experience it was to write on it (and the only reason for this one with Noel is that I like the idea and I wanted to continue it-- it's age gap stuff, I can't continue it with Eli for example)

[storiesabouteli]

Heyyy, dunno if you know her but would you write for Missy Albarn? love your stories and there is NOTHING about her anywhere ))))) ❤️

Hm... Idk her much, the writing would be so bad 😔 I'm sorry about that... more like a rant I would also read so badly if there were more fics with Gene or Lennon (Missy too ofc) lol and at this point I'm sure I'll end up writing some Noel stuff because Lea has spoiled me 🥲

[storiesabouteli]

NEW STORY WHENNNNN

I'm a little busy with end of year demands before the holidays haha but I'll try to post over the weekend 🩷😭

[storiesabouteli]

holaaa!! any idea when you’ll post again? would love a second part to romance or telltales 💞

Heeey babe! Idk yet 😕 but I can try finishing telltales next! ❤️ Idk when I'll be posting tho 🥹

[storiesabouteli]

Stillness. // Elijah Hewson X Reader! (Fluff)

request: Anyway, I had this idea of Eli being absolutely exhausted (from either rehearsals or gigs) and reader noticing that he hasn't been taking care of himself. So, when he gets home one evening, she takes care of him and they shower together with all just being pure fluff. Maybe something like reader washing his hair and telling him that everything will be alright.

words: 1,4K.

 Eli had left everything ready before heading out—coffee brewed, fresh eggs and bread, and hot water for tea. Your schedules had been clashing more than usual, and lately, you hadn’t seen him leave the bed in the mornings. Still, it was sweet how he always found a way to care for you. You weren’t the best at keeping yourself fed when he wasn’t around. Cooking wasn’t exactly your strong suit, and after getting used to Eli being the one who took charge in the kitchen, you often ended up living off takeout or skipping meals altogether in his absence.

 Even during his tours, Eli would arrange for a relative or a nearby restaurant to send your favorite meals whenever possible. It had become a small comfort you’d grown used to.

 You answered the FaceTime call with your plate balanced on your lap and your cup of tea nearby, soaking up the sunlight as you ate. Eli looked tired. He rarely showed signs of exhaustion, but today was different—the dark circles under his eyes and the weary lines on his face were unmistakable.

 You waved, but he stayed quiet, pressing a finger to his lips. It was a gesture you recognized well. On his vocal rest days, Eli would often call you just to be there, even if it meant staying silent. His phone was so close to his face that you could hear his breathing through the mic.

 "I ate, El," you reassured him, panning your camera to show the plate with only crumbs left and lifting your cup as if to toast him. "Thank you—it was really good."

 A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, and he rubbed his eyes in that familiar, unbothered way of his. You smiled softly, wishing you’d been awake to see him off that morning, to hug and kiss him before he left.

 "I wish I’d seen you leave today," you said, blowing a kiss into the camera. He mirrored the gesture, then formed half of a heart with his hand against the screen. You completed it with yours, smiling as the silent “I love you” hung between you.

 The call fell into a comfortable quiet. You could hear the faint chatter of his bandmates in the background as you sipped your tea. Eli looked like he was on a brief break, squeezing in this moment with you amidst his packed schedule.

 "I’m working from home today," you told him. "So I’ll definitely be here when you get back. Do you know if it’ll be late?"

 He shook his head, mouthing a soft "no."

 You tilted your head, grinning. "No as in ‘not sure,’ or no as in ‘not late’?"

 Eli held up two fingers—not late. Your smile widened at the answer, and he noticed, his shoulders visibly relaxing. He had been feeling the strain of not spending enough time with you lately, and seeing your happiness at his news lightened his load.

 He was wearing a gray cardigan you suspected was yours, and even through the tiny screen, he looked impossibly endearing.

 "Alright, El. I’ll take care of you when you get here," you teased.

 Eli chuckled, the warmth in his chest spreading as he imagined the small moment you’d share later, even if it was just falling asleep together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

 "See you soon," his eyes seemed to say, and you couldn’t wait.

…

 You had a bath bomb you’d been saving for a while, one of those that dissolve into fragrant, bubbly water, and you decided tonight was the perfect occasion to use it. You felt like it was Christmas, waiting for the moment to open your gift—except, in this case, the gift was Eli coming home.

 Wrapped in your robe, you had set aside one for him too. The hours crawled by as you anticipated his arrival. When he finally walked through the door, setting his bag down with a tired sigh, you practically launched yourself into his arms.

 Cupping his face, you peppered kisses across his cheeks and temples, slowly making your way to his lips. His arms held you firmly, his eyes slowly tight, grounding you both in the moment, accepting that he wouldn't go anywhere you were not.

 Tugging him closer by the fabric of his cardigan, you guided him through the motions, and within minutes, Eli was ready—prepared for the warm, soothing bath you’d been waiting to share with him. 

 You ran your fingertips along the back of his neck, gently brushing the curls away before pressing a soft kiss to the skin there. Eli grew quieter when he was tired, and the tension in his shoulders under your touch made it clear just how much the day had worn him down.

 You had left only the secondary bathroom light on, accompanied by a few scented candles on the floor. The space felt warm and inviting, and the soft sighs Eli let out confirmed he felt the same. Slowly, he rested his weight against your chest, pressing down just enough for it to feel comforting. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, opened just enough to take in your face, studying you in the dim light.

 Your hand moved from his neck to his shoulders, applying just enough pressure to ease the knots without overwhelming him. "This feels so good," he murmured, his eyes slipping shut again. His features became more vivid to you—the slight curve of his nose, his slightly parted lips. You leaned down, kissing the bridge of his nose before scattering kisses across his face, following the freckles that trailed down to his shoulders.

 Sometimes, when life became chaotic, Eli found himself wondering how much of this you could take. He wanted to believe he’d grown past those doubts, but with bigger tours and busier schedules, the thoughts always got back in.

 “You’re not a second thought or a backup plan,” he admitted suddenly, his voice open and raw.

 You laughed softly. “I don’t feel like one, El. You’re really good at making sure of that.”

 He nodded, his expression softened as he melted further into your touch.

 The progression of your relationship struck you as funny sometimes. In those early months, you’d worried endlessly about how Eli saw you—not in a harsh way, but enough to make you hesitate. And now, here you were, sharing a bath together, completely at ease in your vulnerability with him. It was a level of comfort you couldn’t have imagined back then, one that didn’t seem to even cross his mind now.

 Eli murmured sweet nothings, or something close to it, though the words barely made sense amidst his sighs. His heavy-lidded eyes and relaxed demeanor hinted that this was simply his way of letting himself unwind as your fingers worked through his scalp. His body seemed to melt into yours, his head perfectly nestled against your shoulder while your legs wrapped around him protectively. The warm water soothed his tired muscles, its calming effect evident in the way his breathing slowed.

 You rinsed him gently, careful not to let the soap run into his eyes. Once done, you leaned in, pressing kisses to the freckles scattered across his forehead. His hands wandered softly along your legs, stopping to rest on your knee, their warmth sending a comforting heat through you. He was fully present, fully with you, and even in such a small moment, that awareness felt profound.

 "Should we get out?" you asked softly, your voice vibrating through your chest as you smiled.

 He chuckled at the sound, his laugh warm and light, but groaned in mock protest. Instead of answering, he wrapped his arms firmly, though clumsily, around your torso, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck like a stubborn child refusing to leave his safe place.

 Your fingers were wrinkled from the water-his too-but the bath still retained enough warmth, and neither of you felt much urgency to move. You could wait until it starts to cool down. The comfort of the moment was too good to end.

 "All right, El. Just a few more seconds," you conceded, brushing your cheek against his in an slow, affectionate drag, enjoying the faint scrape of his freshly grown stubble. He responded in kind, playfully nipping at your skin, a silent agreement that staying a little longer wouldn't hurt. Everything was fine, and in that small bubble of warmth, it felt like it always would be.

[storiesabouteli]

oh right

It's okaay Hannah 🫂🩷

[storiesabouteli]

ermm not to brag but first like 🤓🤓☝️

Haha I SEE YA!! This is funny, I feel like a Tiktok star. Ty babe! 🫶

[storiesabouteli]

Stillness. // Elijah Hewson X Reader! (Fluff)

request: Anyway, I had this idea of Eli being absolutely exhausted (from either rehearsals or gigs) and reader noticing that he hasn't been taking care of himself. So, when he gets home one evening, she takes care of him and they shower together with all just being pure fluff. Maybe something like reader washing his hair and telling him that everything will be alright.

words: 1,4K.

 Eli had left everything ready before heading out—coffee brewed, fresh eggs and bread, and hot water for tea. Your schedules had been clashing more than usual, and lately, you hadn’t seen him leave the bed in the mornings. Still, it was sweet how he always found a way to care for you. You weren’t the best at keeping yourself fed when he wasn’t around. Cooking wasn’t exactly your strong suit, and after getting used to Eli being the one who took charge in the kitchen, you often ended up living off takeout or skipping meals altogether in his absence.

 Even during his tours, Eli would arrange for a relative or a nearby restaurant to send your favorite meals whenever possible. It had become a small comfort you’d grown used to.

 You answered the FaceTime call with your plate balanced on your lap and your cup of tea nearby, soaking up the sunlight as you ate. Eli looked tired. He rarely showed signs of exhaustion, but today was different—the dark circles under his eyes and the weary lines on his face were unmistakable.

 You waved, but he stayed quiet, pressing a finger to his lips. It was a gesture you recognized well. On his vocal rest days, Eli would often call you just to be there, even if it meant staying silent. His phone was so close to his face that you could hear his breathing through the mic.

 "I ate, El," you reassured him, panning your camera to show the plate with only crumbs left and lifting your cup as if to toast him. "Thank you—it was really good."

 A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, and he rubbed his eyes in that familiar, unbothered way of his. You smiled softly, wishing you’d been awake to see him off that morning, to hug and kiss him before he left.

 "I wish I’d seen you leave today," you said, blowing a kiss into the camera. He mirrored the gesture, then formed half of a heart with his hand against the screen. You completed it with yours, smiling as the silent “I love you” hung between you.

 The call fell into a comfortable quiet. You could hear the faint chatter of his bandmates in the background as you sipped your tea. Eli looked like he was on a brief break, squeezing in this moment with you amidst his packed schedule.

 "I’m working from home today," you told him. "So I’ll definitely be here when you get back. Do you know if it’ll be late?"

 He shook his head, mouthing a soft "no."

 You tilted your head, grinning. "No as in ‘not sure,’ or no as in ‘not late’?"

 Eli held up two fingers—not late. Your smile widened at the answer, and he noticed, his shoulders visibly relaxing. He had been feeling the strain of not spending enough time with you lately, and seeing your happiness at his news lightened his load.

 He was wearing a gray cardigan you suspected was yours, and even through the tiny screen, he looked impossibly endearing.

 "Alright, El. I’ll take care of you when you get here," you teased.

 Eli chuckled, the warmth in his chest spreading as he imagined the small moment you’d share later, even if it was just falling asleep together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

 "See you soon," his eyes seemed to say, and you couldn’t wait.

…

 You had a bath bomb you’d been saving for a while, one of those that dissolve into fragrant, bubbly water, and you decided tonight was the perfect occasion to use it. You felt like it was Christmas, waiting for the moment to open your gift—except, in this case, the gift was Eli coming home.

 Wrapped in your robe, you had set aside one for him too. The hours crawled by as you anticipated his arrival. When he finally walked through the door, setting his bag down with a tired sigh, you practically launched yourself into his arms.

 Cupping his face, you peppered kisses across his cheeks and temples, slowly making your way to his lips. His arms held you firmly, his eyes slowly tight, grounding you both in the moment, accepting that he wouldn't go anywhere you were not.

 Tugging him closer by the fabric of his cardigan, you guided him through the motions, and within minutes, Eli was ready—prepared for the warm, soothing bath you’d been waiting to share with him. 

 You ran your fingertips along the back of his neck, gently brushing the curls away before pressing a soft kiss to the skin there. Eli grew quieter when he was tired, and the tension in his shoulders under your touch made it clear just how much the day had worn him down.

 You had left only the secondary bathroom light on, accompanied by a few scented candles on the floor. The space felt warm and inviting, and the soft sighs Eli let out confirmed he felt the same. Slowly, he rested his weight against your chest, pressing down just enough for it to feel comforting. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, opened just enough to take in your face, studying you in the dim light.

 Your hand moved from his neck to his shoulders, applying just enough pressure to ease the knots without overwhelming him. "This feels so good," he murmured, his eyes slipping shut again. His features became more vivid to you—the slight curve of his nose, his slightly parted lips. You leaned down, kissing the bridge of his nose before scattering kisses across his face, following the freckles that trailed down to his shoulders.

 Sometimes, when life became chaotic, Eli found himself wondering how much of this you could take. He wanted to believe he’d grown past those doubts, but with bigger tours and busier schedules, the thoughts always got back in.

 “You’re not a second thought or a backup plan,” he admitted suddenly, his voice open and raw.

 You laughed softly. “I don’t feel like one, El. You’re really good at making sure of that.”

 He nodded, his expression softened as he melted further into your touch.

 The progression of your relationship struck you as funny sometimes. In those early months, you’d worried endlessly about how Eli saw you—not in a harsh way, but enough to make you hesitate. And now, here you were, sharing a bath together, completely at ease in your vulnerability with him. It was a level of comfort you couldn’t have imagined back then, one that didn’t seem to even cross his mind now.

 Eli murmured sweet nothings, or something close to it, though the words barely made sense amidst his sighs. His heavy-lidded eyes and relaxed demeanor hinted that this was simply his way of letting himself unwind as your fingers worked through his scalp. His body seemed to melt into yours, his head perfectly nestled against your shoulder while your legs wrapped around him protectively. The warm water soothed his tired muscles, its calming effect evident in the way his breathing slowed.

 You rinsed him gently, careful not to let the soap run into his eyes. Once done, you leaned in, pressing kisses to the freckles scattered across his forehead. His hands wandered softly along your legs, stopping to rest on your knee, their warmth sending a comforting heat through you. He was fully present, fully with you, and even in such a small moment, that awareness felt profound.

 "Should we get out?" you asked softly, your voice vibrating through your chest as you smiled.

 He chuckled at the sound, his laugh warm and light, but groaned in mock protest. Instead of answering, he wrapped his arms firmly, though clumsily, around your torso, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck like a stubborn child refusing to leave his safe place.

 Your fingers were wrinkled from the water-his too-but the bath still retained enough warmth, and neither of you felt much urgency to move. You could wait until it starts to cool down. The comfort of the moment was too good to end.

 "All right, El. Just a few more seconds," you conceded, brushing your cheek against his in an slow, affectionate drag, enjoying the faint scrape of his freshly grown stubble. He responded in kind, playfully nipping at your skin, a silent agreement that staying a little longer wouldn't hurt. Everything was fine, and in that small bubble of warmth, it felt like it always would be.

[storiesabouteli]

Hello, love! I know it may be a bit weird getting a request from another writer, but honestly, I've been sitting on this one idea for so long and just can't figure out how to write it and even if I do, it seems off somehow? So, I thought maybe you could try because I believe you can make any idea work.

Anyway, I had this idea of Eli being absolutely exhausted (from either rehearsals or gigs) and reader noticing that he hasn't been taking care of himself. So, when he gets home one evening, she takes care of him and they shower together with all just being pure fluff. Maybe something like reader washing his hair and telling him that everything will be alright.

I hope this is worth something and you can do something with it!

HELLLOOO It's an honor!! 😭 I love your stuff, I loved the idea too, I already wrote it, I found it so cute!! I hope you like it!! ❤️ Thanks for sending something love!!

[storiesabouteli]

Hey! I love the way you write haha. I had an idea about a story you can write...

It's about a house party, in which Bobby and y/n meet for the first time. The host is a friend of both Bobby and y/n. And after a long night of looks and stares, they finally meet and get to know each other.

I hope that's not very boring haha. <33

Thank you! It's not boring love, I meant it like me writing things all the same ends up making this happen 😅 It's a great one! I'll try something! Tysm!

[storiesabouteli]

Girl what about the bobby fic you told us? 😭

So it's not really a request... The idea came to me from an ask that someone sent here, where I said that Bobby reminds me of enis to lovers, so I wanted to write something where they know each other because they are friends of mutual friends and even though Reader likes him, Bobby acts cold towards her and she thinks he hates her, until he ends up in the hospital for some reason and Eli calls her and she is the only one who can go get him so he can leave there and all, they talk, she takes him home, spends the night taking care of him... (yes, I got this idea from a single ask asking me what I think Bobby would be like if he was in love lol I'm super delulu), anyway, I wrote it but ended up not posting it 🥹 (and if I'm going to post it I need to work on some things first)

[storiesabouteli]

Do people still send requests? Did you get Bobby's?

Not really, I have an old one I can't think of how to write tbh... But it's been a while since you've sent anything, and I haven't received anything with Bobby. You can send them if you want, after the 13th I'll be much freer to write, it would be interesting, even because the requests help me not to make all my fics about the same boring thing 😅

[storiesabouteli]

New storie or part 2 when? 🩷

I will possibly post part2 on Monday or Tuesday... 😁🩷

[storiesabouteli]

HOMETOWN SHOW ANNOUNCED

can’t believe they’re playing in a 20K VENUE 😖😖😖😖

inhaler proving that bullying your fav band always works BUT I'M SO HAPPY MOTHER AND ALLL LOVE THEM 😭😭

[storiesabouteli]

TellTales // Elijah Hewson X Reader! (Fluff) Part1 of 2.

prompt: It's a narration of how they are young and in a way they share differences, but they are in love. It takes place in a student environment (college) and continues with a car trip and in the next part reader meets the boys, the fic is just about how they feel about each other in the midst of everyday life and a relationship that is new. And although I commented on sexual relations, I did not describe the act itself, there is no smut. (This story is from my old blog, it's very old, and I decided to rewrite it)

words: 3K

You tiptoed your way through the bleachers, scanning the crowd for him. You hadn’t explicitly asked him to come, but you’d dropped enough hints to hope he’d show up. Deep down, you understood if he couldn’t make it, but the thought of him not being there still left a pang of sadness.

Either way, he’d be picking you up shortly after the game ended. You’d agreed to spend the weekend with some of his bandmates and their girlfriends. You recognized them from glimpses in the hallways and the gigs you’d attended, but meaningful interactions with them had been rare. You were aware of the reputation you’d unintentionally acquired in that social circle but didn’t let it bother you.

You hadn’t dated much in life. In fact, Elijah was the only person you’d ever been involved with—both emotionally and physically. While that choice sometimes stirred whispers or the occasional mean-spirited comment, it was clear that most people didn’t care, if anything, they just found it curious.

“How was last night?” your best friend asked, a knowing smirk on her face. Judging by your expression, she already suspected the answer.

“It was… great,” you admitted, the butterflies in your stomach still fluttering from the memory. Your hands felt clammy, and your nervous cheeks were impossible to hide.

“Was sex with Elijah really that good?” There was a teasing edge in her tone, but you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or sarcastic. You elbowed her, though the heat in your face only deepened.

“Did he take charge? Or was all the work left to you?” she continued, her grin widening. You rolled your eyes, but her playful jab stayed in your head longer than you’d care to admit.

Hiding your face in your hands, you realized she just wanted to embarrass you. Asking her to lower her voice, she laughed and agreed, though it was clear she expected more details. It was your first time with Eli, and you’d been nervous—something entirely unusual for you from her perspective. Naturally, she wanted to know everything.

You decided to keep most of it to yourself, knowing she’d get the picture. You settled on something simple: “He’s not shy, but in a good way. He’s... observant, and he made good use of that. He’s fine,” you said, biting your lip to contain a smile. But the memory of him holding you, the way his hands moved so assuredly, and the soft sighs and muffled moans you’d shared—it all came flooding back, making your heart crazy. You didn’t know how, but it had been intimate and irresistibly sexy, leaving you on the brink of tears from the overwhelming connection. You couldn’t wait to be with him again.

She nodded knowingly, her expression softening at your obvious happiness. “It’s nice that you have him. I’m glad for you. He seems like a great guy.”

Her words made you smile, but they also left you feeling a little unsettled. Eli was your complete opposite in so many ways. You had no doubts that he liked you, but the thought of him realizing how easily he could find someone better lingered in your mind.

You were popular, but it was something that had happened by accident rather than design. You didn’t care about it much, though you appreciated the “good girl” image that came with it. Eli, on the other hand, had a laid-back, effortlessly cool demeanor. He wasn’t concerned with appearances and didn’t seem to care about what others thought. Maybe that was something you needed to learn from him.

Even your interests didn’t align much, but so far, things had been going well.

Lost in your thoughts, your friend shook your shoulders, snapping you back to reality. She turned you toward the crowd, and her grin widened when she saw your face light up. There he was—his messy curls catching the light.

“Damn, you really got Hewson to come to a college game,” she teased.

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously. It wasn’t exactly his scene. The echoing cheers of the players and the squeals of the cheerleaders were likely grating to him, but there he was, leaning casually in the back corner. You tried not to let your nerves spiral as you wondered how he felt about all this, about you.

Before you could respond, you spotted him in the distance. Your heart skipped a beat. He looked serious, like he’d rather be anywhere else, and for a moment, doubt crept in. But then his eyes found yours. His expression softened, his hands in his jacket pockets, and his lips curled into a small smile.

You waved enthusiastically, and to your relief, he lit up, waving back just as excitedly. He brushed his hair back, standing still in that secluded spot, and blew you a kiss. A few people nearby noticed, and his cheeks turned pink, but he didn’t seem to care. Your Eli was there.

You threw him a kiss in return, and with his typical playful flair, he pretended to catch it, tucking it into his pocket. It was such a simple, teasing gesture, yet it made your heart swell. He might not love the setting, but he was there for you.

As you turned back to your position on the court, you couldn’t help but steal another glance at him. He looked proud, as though being there and seeing you so happy made everything worth it.

The performance began, and you gave it your all—the dances, the spins, the choreography. A small part of you felt self-conscious, knowing he was watching. While you were sure he wouldn’t judge you, this wasn’t his thing, and you worried about what he thought.

But when your eyes found his again, there was no doubt. It was you. He was there because of you. And that was all that mattered.

The game ended, and as you and the girls announced the final score, thanking everyone for coming, your focus was already elsewhere. You didn’t even register who was speaking to you as you made your way toward Eli. His smile didn’t falter, and he opened his arms wide, waiting for you.

Instinctively, you ran into him, throwing your arms around his neck. He caught you with ease, lifting you slightly off the ground as his arms tightened around you. Without hesitation, he adjusted your skirt, his hand lingering protectively to keep it in place. You had noticed this habit of his before, and though you found it sweet, you hadn’t told him yet that you always wore shorts underneath. You were sure he knew, but the gesture was heartwarming.

You buried your face in his hair, letting the softness of his curls surround you. He nuzzled into your neck in return, inhaling deeply as if to draw comfort from your scent. For a moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, while the noise and chaos of the game faded into the background.

When your feet touched the ground again, you lingered there, gazing at one another in a rare moment of silence. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the warmth in his caramel eyes and the soft curve of his lips.

You took a small step further, closing the distance between you, and kissed him. It wasn’t tentative—it was the kind of kiss that spoke volumes, a mixture of longing and familiarity. You could taste the faint trace of gum on his tongue, a detail you’d remember fondly later. His hands trailed over your sides, light and deliberate, grounding you in the moment. He felt like calm, like home, and you melted into him, despite the murmurs and stares from the crowd.

The kiss ended quickly but left a deep impression. His hands stayed firmly on your waist, keeping you close, while your gaze was on his lips, too shy to meet his eyes just yet. He broke the silence with a soft kiss to your cheek, then your forehead, dotting your skin with gentle pecks that made you nervous. He always did this, and every time, it made you fall for him all over again.

“Sorry for being late,” he said, his voice low and apologetic. “Josh needed the car.” He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders in one smooth motion, pausing to kiss the top of your head. “Keep it—you look cold.”

You clutched the jacket tightly, enveloped by his warmth and the faint smell of him in the fabric. “I don’t mind,” you replied, light and genuine. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, intertwining your fingers. “I know this isn’t your favorite place, so it means a lot to me that you came tonight.”

Eli didn’t respond right away, his mind swirling with thoughts about the people around him, whom he saw as unremarkable, living to meet expectations rather than exploring life’s possibilities. It was an opinion he had once extended to you, long before he became enamored with the way you danced, your laugh ringing through the halls, and your quiet determination to pursue what you loved. Now, he saw you differently. You weren’t just going through the motions—you genuinely enjoyed being there, with your friends and your passions.

Such a realization had led him to fill your locker with letters—awkward yet heartfelt, each building the bridge to this very moment.

He rubbed his thumb over your palm, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “I’ll be here as many times as necessary,” he murmured. “I like to see you happy.”

His words made your goofy smile return full force. He placed a hand gently on the small of your back, guiding you toward his car.

Eli’s ears were still flushed as he opened the door for you, and you couldn’t help but wish for more of that.

...

He sifted through his belongings, handpicking a few tapes and placing them on your lap. "Pick one," he said, anticipation lacing his voice.

You scanned the options before spotting a familiar purple cover. "Oh my God, it's Kate Bush!" you exclaimed, grinning ear to ear. It was surreal. Even as he kept his eyes on the road, his presence filled the small, borrowed car.

"Josh mentioned you were a fan," he said casually.

"And you went and got it for me?" you asked eagerly, pressing play without hesitation.

He nodded, watching your smile grow with every note.

Before he could say anything, you squealed and leaned over to kiss his cheek quickly, careful to avoid causing any accidents. Feeling at ease with him, you mimicked Kate’s vocals, exaggerating your facial expressions to match the drama of her delivery. He chuckled, thankful to Josh for tipping him off about the tape.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, lil' one," he murmured, his voice warm. Your enthusiasm for the lyrics matched his quiet contentment in seeing you well.

He didn’t know the words or the instrumentation but encouraged you to keep going, like your number-one fan.

"Did you know David Gilmour kind of discovered Kate Bush?" you asked between breaths.

"I’ve heard that somewhere," he replied, prompting you to share more. He liked Pink Floyd, you knew that.

"It’s like we’re all interconnected, isn’t it?" you mused, glancing at him solemnly before turning back to the road, tapping the melody out with your fingers. "I kind of like the thought of it."

"Yeah, it’s a nice thought," he agreed, his chest filling with a quiet warmth. Not ready to let the conversation fade, he added, "So, have you been checking out any of the bands I like?"

The world seemed to slow down for a moment. You noticed the softness in Eli’s features, a rare, relaxed smile that only appeared when he was with you. In other settings—classes, the cafeteria, gigs—he maintained his usual unbothered demeanor, some cool smiles yet nothing more, which you found charming, but this version of him was your favorite.

He placed his large hand gently on your thigh, not moving it but bringing you a sense of comfort. You fingered the rings and felt the more prominent veins on his skin. Smiling, you placed your hand over his, threading your fingers through his long ones. Even brief touches like this filled you with quiet joy.

"I have," you admitted, feeling a little shy. "I wanted to hear what you liked, and I found one I really enjoyed."

His eyes widened in disbelief, and for a moment, you feared he might crash the car. But Eli, ever grounded, kept things steady. "No way! You've reached Blackstar?"

The thing was, you already knew Bowie, of course, but Eli saw him through a unique lens. He had favorite albums and endless commentary about every track. After spending hours with you the night before, he’d gone home, obsessed with crafting a perfect playlist to introduce you to his idol. He never imagined you’d actually listen.

"I did," you confirmed, suppressing a laugh at his attempt to maintain his unbothered facade, though it failed to hide the goofy smile creeping onto his face.

You grinned and began to sing, “Just like that bluebird, oh, I’ll be free…” pretending to hold a microphone.

He smiled as if he’d just won the lottery. “Just like that bluebird, oh, I’ll be free. Ain’t that just like me…” he sang back, pouring affection into every note.

Bowie’s words felt like home, like the perfect bridge between you. Eli never spared feelings when it came to sharing his passions, not like that, not for any special one, even when he initially thought your differences might be too vast. He was starting to see the beauty in complementing perspectives.

You loved Bowie, though not quite as much as he did. And, much like him with Kate Bush, you were learning to appreciate the depth of the connection through each other’s eyes.

...

You were asleep, your hand resting on Eli's arm as he drove down the empty highway. He glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watched you sleep peacefully.

Suddenly, as if your mind had been waiting for it, you jolted awake, gasping for air and clutching your chest. Your body trembled as you struggled to catch your breath.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Eli said, his tone soothing as he reached over, gently rubbing your back. "Just take deep breaths with me, huh?"

You nodded, your eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry," you whispered, guilt heavy in your voice.

"Don't be sorry," Elijah said firmly, his gaze unwavering. "You're not bothering me. I just want to make sure you're fine, babe. Are you good?"

Leaning back against the seat, you inhaled deeply, trying to calm yourself. "It's just...a nightmare. I get them sometimes, and they're always hard to shake off."

"I see," Elijah murmured. "I've been there with you before, remember?" His sweet smile softened his words as he squeezed your hand. And it was true-it wasn't the first time, and you didn't need to feel ashamed. "We'll get through this, okay?"

Pulling the car to the side of the road, he opened the windows and doors to let in the crisp, early morning air. You sat quietly, watching as the sky began to shift, the first rays of dawn painting the horizon with soft light.

"It's so nice, quite beautiful," you murmured, feeling an odd sense of peace settling over you. Small but present, a reminder that he didn’t see you as a problem to be dealt with.

Eli nodded. "Yeah, it is. Like you, when you're comfortable like this," he added, immediately regretting his words, fearing they might sound wrong.

You smiled warmly, your face heating at his unintended confession, making Eli relax. "Thank you."

He reached into the backseat and grabbed a comforter, draping it over you with care. He made sure you were snug and warm, his movements gentle as he tucked you in.

Stopping briefly, he stood silently by the car, watching you shift restlessly under the duvet. Your eyes stayed locked on him, steady and observant. Though your breathing had calmed, you didn't seem ready to sleep again.

"Do you want me to stay here until you sleep?" His voice carried a mix of awkwardness and worry.

"No," you said after a pause, your gaze lingering on his hands gripping the steering wheel and the way his lips were reddened from nervous biting. Your breath hitched faintly, betraying your unease. "Actually, we could stay here for a while." You loosened the duvet, the warmth of the moment overtaking your earlier chill.

He arched a brow, his features shadowed in the dim light. "Okay, but you feel good, right?”

"Yeah, just can't sleep," you admitted, your hand brushing over his shoulder and trailing to the back of his neck, seeking the comfort of his warmth. "Come closer. I want to feel you." You tugged him toward you, your words low and certain.

And Eli had that moment of realization, noticing how different you were from what others perceived, from the image they had built of you. He loved that—that this raw, genuine side of you was something only he had access to.

Eli hesitated for a second before leaning in, his nose brushing against your cheek. His lips met yours, soft and hesitant at first, contrasting with the sudden urgency in your touch. He melted into the seat, his hand naturally finding your waist as the kiss deepened.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven. The darkness obscured his face, but you could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.

"I like how you taste," you whispered, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The warmth of his breath brushed your skin as you trailed kisses from his lips to his nose, playfully licking his parted mouth along the way.

Your laughter filled the car when you noticed how flustered he had become. You relished the effect you had on him, thinking about how you might use it to your advantage in the future.

Before Eli could lean in for another kiss, his usual lovesick expression plastered on his face, you leaned closer, your voice dropping to a mischievous whisper.

"I need a favor, if you don't mind.”

...

You stopped in a dark, desolate spot, your hand crazy with sweat as nerves took hold. Elijah could tell you were uneasy about being out in the middle of nowhere.

"El, I don’t want to be alone," you murmured, your voice drowsy but trembling with it all.

He didn’t question it, just as he didn’t even consider leaving you behind. Truthfully, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of braving the rickety gas station alone either, even if it was just to relieve himself.

He nodded, his expression steady, trying to ease the tension in your own. The worry was etched across your face, and Elijah knew you tended to spiral into pessimistic thoughts in situations like this. He couldn’t begin to guess the scenarios playing out in your mind, but he was determined to dispel them.

"Look," he said quickly, color rushing to his cheeks and necks, "I’ll step outside, stay by the car, and just use the tree right here. I won’t go far, I won’t leave your sight, and I’ll shut the door so you’ll still feel safe. Just, uh… don’t look, y’know? That’d be awkward."

You nodded, avoiding his gaze as your hands fumbled for the radio, turning up the volume to drown out any sound from outside. It was a flimsy attempt to preserve the boundary of intimacy, even for something as brief and mundane as this. Still, you couldn’t deny his plan made sense, even if it left you feeling slightly on edge.

—

Part 2 will be posted soon! Promise!