#elijah hewson fanfic

[storiesabouteli]

Heartplace. // Elijah Hewson X Reader (Fluff).

prompt: about how you handle a light argument, where Eli said things he's truly sorry for and wants to apologize.

words: 2.1K

It affected you in a way that left your mind distant throughout the day, but deep down, you understood. He was tired, and though he was in the wrong, his sleepless nights without you and his swollen eyes as he watched you leave each morning made it clear—he knew he had hurt you.

Knowing Eli, he would be brooding over it, silently reprimanding himself while figuring out how to reconnect with you and make things right.

"Come closer," you whispered, foam already covering his tiny beard. Under normal circumstances, he would have kissed you, making a mess. You appreciated how, despite complications, you never neglected each other. You loved him too much to go long without touching him, and he felt the same.

…

Despite the thoughtless and cruel words from the night before, he still came to pick you up from work, waiting outside with a cigarette as usual, and kept your favorite songs playing even after you got into the car without giving him your usual long, lingering hug. He stayed silent, his hand brushing over his eyes during the drive, and you’d have been foolish not to notice him struggling to keep them from misting over.

You didn’t fight often, but you had been together a long time, so this wasn’t the first. As you gazed out the window, you placed your hand on his, intertwining your fingers, listening to him sniff softly—so discreet and embarrassed that, if not for the years, you might have missed it. His rings against your skin were comforting, so familiar.

He squeezed your thigh affectionately; his fingers were cold, but yours quickly warmed them. As you gently stroked the short hair on his arm, he felt foolish—both for what he’d done and for still not knowing what to say or how to say it. You weren’t angry with him, not at all, but you didn’t like the way it felt.

…

He took a deep breath, settling between your legs, which quickly wrapped around his waist. His long fingers grazed the hem of your shirt (which, by the way it hung to your thighs, was clearly his), gradually stealing the warmth from your hips into his palms. You smiled softly as his eyes met yours; at times, he felt like he didn't deserve you. You could feel his breath close as you wet the blade and steadied his face with your hand. It felt good to have him near, even with the tension still lingering in the air between you.

“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” you asked, continuing to remove the excess before resuming the grooming process you loved so much. Eli was never very patient with his beard; whenever he had to do it himself, it usually ended with intense itching and irritated, red skin. You never failed to take good care of him, and he appreciated it deeply. It didn’t usually grow too thick, but it bothered him, and you were so good at handling it.

“Like what, darlin’?” His voice was velvety yet cautious. His eyes sparkled at you with a faint smile, freckles prominent, as if pleading for kisses. Realizing it had been a while since you’d heard him, your body tingled. You tightened around him, wanting him close as if he could heal the pounding in your head. You wanted to say everything was fine, but you also wanted to be honest about your hurt. Above all, you were waiting for him to take the first step. Things are always much easier said than done.

Your face was furrowed in concentration, or perhaps annoyance; at that moment, he couldn’t quite tell. It seemed as if you were about to carve a look of distress into his features, yet he couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful you looked.

"I don't know," you whispered. Despite looking tired, he still wore a sweet expression as he looked at you. The wrinkle between his relaxed eyebrows and the way his caramel eyes shone, even on not-so-great days, were things you loved about him.

He nodded, tracing circles on your skin, waiting for you to continue. When you finished, you dried his face with the still-warm towel and applied the soothing lotion. The bonus you loved most was that you’d fall asleep with his comforting scent lingering on you. You ran your hands over his bare shoulders, appreciating every freckle, and then, with quiet sincerity, he pulled you into a hug.

Your forehead rested against his chest, your hand entwined around his waist, and gradually, his breathing comforted you. You murmured softly, feeling warmth in your chest, the hairs on his chest tickling your cheek, which made him laugh as well. He nuzzled his red nose against your cheek, then down to your shoulder, and after lightly kissing it, he playfully nibbled, wanting to hear you smile. It was a pleasant and new sensation to feel him against your skin without the facial hair.

“Thank you for takin’ care of me, tiny one,” he said, still feeling weighed down. His face nestled into your neck, and he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes. “I really like these little moments with you.” He felt like an idiot for stating the obvious, as if it would somehow make things better. His fear wasn’t about apologizing but rather about recognizing how much he had hurt you with his actions.

You nodded against his skin, feeling small in his embrace. "You know when we go to the market?" Your voice trembled, and he felt the dampness spreading quietly across his chest as you rubbed your hand against him. A lump formed in his throat as he held you tighter. "This is going to sound silly," you said, laughing without much humor.

He watched you through wet eyelashes, cradling your face as your foreheads rested together, allowing you to gaze into each other’s eyes. Your hair stuck to his, and he tried to pull it away in vain; perhaps it was meant to be tangled together. "I wanna hear you out," he said, his voice catching as he spoke.

You swallowed hard and closed your eyes. "I love how you smile at me when you 'find' me in the market, y’know? Your eyes, even your freckles seem to sparkle. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but it always happens, even though you know I’ll come back to you after I find something from the list. Sometimes, I think I do it on purpose—disappear among the shelves and then reappear with something in hand to show you. It never fails. You squint your eyes and then break into a smile, your cheeks rosy and your teeth showing, and it makes me want to hug you." You sniffled, feeling vulnerable.

He was just as emotional, yet he held you close, making you feel heard. "I’m afraid this will end," your voice trailed off, and then you shook your head vigorously. "I hate thinking that you might get tired of being with me. Even though I know you acted in the heat of the moment, I can't shake the feeling that it’s a possibility." Those were the truths that weighed heavily on you, and you felt apprehensive about sharing it.

There was silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. He cradled your face in his hands, the tip of his nose nuzzling against your skin as he pressed soft kisses onto your cheek. He offered you the same affectionate look he always had. "It won’t end, I promise. I’m sorry.” He held you tighter, hating himself for leaving you alone to deal with those feelings. Sometimes, he wished you would be angry at him and scream in his face, but fortunately, you both knew better than that. “I didn’t mean to hurt you; I was tired and ended up unloading my feelings on you when you were just trying to help. I didn’t realize you felt this way.”

He chuckled at his own words, his cheeks and the tip of his nose flushed. He hadn’t realized it before, but reflecting on those memories, he loved having you close. In public—whether at the market or any other event—the voices in his head and the external noises became more persistent, almost paralyzing. But having you by his side made him feel lighter, grounding his thoughts. Loving you made him more patient, filling him with that warm feeling in his chest and the assurance that everything would be alright because the person he cherished most in the world was with him.

“I know you didn’t mean it.” The tips of your fingers brushed against his nose, trailing your thumb to his eyes as you smiled weakly at the sight of his tears. “I’m upset, but I’m not angry with you. I know I can be stubborn, and I’ve been forgiven for my questionable actions in the past.”

The difference was that he knew you would know what to say, expertly resolving everything without leaving room for insecurities to take root in his mind. He didn’t have much to say; he had failed you in less than two minutes, and he still replayed the sad look in your eyes and the way you had lowered your head the previous night as punishment.

You opened your arms, noticing how he had withdrawn into himself, lost in his own thoughts. “Take me to bed, Eli.” He forced a smile as he held you close, his hands firm on your waist while you intertwined your legs around him.

“I won’t do it again; I won’t make you feel this way again. I love you. I promise.” His voice was breathless but not desperate, polite and well-articulated. It was as if he felt the need to prove something to you, believing that words alone wouldn’t suffice. Despite knowing he would apologize many more times out of concern, you were fine. He had always been good at listening.

Your back sank into the mattress as your fingers wove through his hair, his face nestled against you. “I don’t like sleeping without you,” he whispered, lifting his head. His hand caressed your cheek and chin, captivated by how he closed his eyes at your touch and sighed. You kissed him lightly, and as you sank back into the bed, he stole another kiss from you. Soon, the tips of your fingers traced the path of his freckles, and he understood that he would miss you if fate decided that you didn’t want him anymore.

“Yeah?” Your eyebrows arched, eager to hear more as you snuggled closer to the pillow, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

“Yeah,” he laughed, his face lighting up. “I love how you share your day with me and listen until we drift off to sleep.” He paused, fingers tracing your skin as he sighed contentedly, grateful for your closeness and the kisses you shared. “Mornings are great too, when you play with my hair until I wake up to see you smiling beside me, or when I catch you washing your face with the bathroom light on.” Holding your chin, he reflected on how often those moments happened, all equally cherished. He missed you when filming kept him away, and he found himself longing for your daily updates and photos. “I need you, I’m sorry,” he began, but you covered his mouth, smiling.

“If you apologize again, I won’t forgive you; you’ll be on your own. I know you won’t do it again.” Your tone was light, easing his tension. You pulled him closer, enjoying the warmth of his embrace as his hands found their way to your waist. He nuzzled his beard-less face against your forehead and planted a kiss there. “Elijah?” you sang softly.

He grumbled, pulling you even closer.

“Your mother called earlier, inviting us to lunch. I said we’d go.” Your breath against his chest was light, and he chuckled at the thought that you might hold a grudge. It was funny to think that you didn't hesitate at all to decline the request.

[leaawrites]

just read your inhaler imagines and loved them!

You could make an imagine for elijah hewson with the song „don’t delete the kisses“- wolf alice or „to love“- suki waterhouse, i think they fit him well xx

To Love

Eli Hewson x fem!reader

Summary: a quiet night, shared by whispers and confessions.

Warnings: fluff, none; I did a bit of both songs, but more suki :)

Wordcount: 0.9k

Masterlist

The light on the bedside table was still on while they both fell asleep and she let it burn as she was now wide awake, watching him breath in contempt.

She wanted to brush the hair falling into his face out of his eyes to admire him more properly, the lamp casting a shadow at all the right places. How could anyone be this beautiful? she thought, her breath catching itself in the back of her throat in order to not come out too harsh and wake him. It was all coming down on her in this moment of silence, the endless possibilities of how her life could’ve changed if they’d have never met. How and where would she be now? Next to who would she be laying instead? A stranger she never got to meet or the lingering ghost of his existence that she could feel deep in her heart but never quite catch with her fingers? Would he only be a grain of sand slipping through her fingers like all the other people she walked past on the streets or sat next to on the subway?

She hoped not. She hoped that in whichever point of life they’d have met otherwise it would’ve ended the same; with them next to each other in every situation.

“What’s wrong?” She didn’t notice him waking, neither opening her eyes until he spoke, grabbing her attention from her thoughts and making her concentrate on him once more. She didn’t even notice the tear slipping from her eye until his finger gently wiped it away, pulling her closer by her waist in the process. His lips lingering on her forehead while Y/n nuzzled her head into his chest, inhaling his scent to remind herself that this was real. This wasn’t some fantasy she didn’t want to wake up from ever again, he was here with her, holding her, caring for her. He was here and she wouldn’t let him slip away ever again.

“What do you think would’ve happened if we never met?” she asked, not looking at him. She could feel him breath in deeply, trying to make the oxygen float up to his brain and start working faster. What would’ve happened if…? The one question with a million different answers.

“I would’ve been the most miserable man in the world,” Eli answered, chuckling at the thought of him being slumped in a corner of his childhood bedroom with a guitar in his hands a notebook written full of sad songs from a love he never had. “The guys probably would’ve had to throw me out of the band for being as miserable as I would’ve been.”

“I doubt it,” she answered honestly, making him frown. “You wouldn’t have known that I exist, so how would you have missed me?”

“I think, I would’ve known. Before I met you, I always thought that part of me wasn’t with me, something had always been missing,” he spoke into the night like it was a confessional of his feelings. “Until I met you. I’ve felt complete ever since.”

If the stars could fall to once words, she believed it would be his voice they would fall for. All the lights of the sky coming down to listen to him in a way they never heard anyone talk before. With a voice so soft and words so delicate yet threatening. The poets say, that nothing gold can stay, but in her heart she knew that this was the only truth she’d ever hold on to. This was pure and rich and beautiful. Nothing would ever be quite the same as this. Nothing would ever be quite as beautiful as his eyes in the moonlight.

“I never thought that you’d actually want to go out with me after I asked you the first time.” The necklace around his neck, which once laid on his chest, was now being twisted in between her fingers. Her eyes focused on the shiny metal instead of his gaze that lingered on her like always. In his eyes she was the most beautiful thing to look at, the only valuable waste of his time. Though laying next to her, simply breathing as one, felt like it was all they were ever meant to be. Besides their work and fame and family, this was what they were looking forward to in life. The quietness of simply loving. “I never thought that love was meant for me.”

“I never thought that I was able to love the way I do now.” A light breeze came in from the open window beside them, flying over the body. Making her shiver and letting goosebumps appear on her skin. Leaning down, Eli pulled the blanket higher over their bodies, hugging her closer to him than she already was to make her more comfortable. He knew how much she hated the cold laying over her body. He wouldn’t let her freeze if he was near.

“I couldn’t wish for a better love than yours.” Looking up at him, Eli wore a lazy smile on his face in her eyes, though in reality he simply couldn’t stop thanking god for letting him have her by his side at this very moment. All the endless hours of disbelief in himself and rotting in the doubts of ever having a love worth living for, they seemed like a gift now. They lead him to her in the end, at the right time.

If this wasn’t love that would last forever, he didn’t know what was.

[kindestofkings]

nepobaby² [pt.2]

elijah hewson x pop singer! reader

description: people hate to see a hot girl killing it, so much so that tmz starts rumours that spread like wildfire.

authors note: heyy this is a random part two to this ! so go enjoy and tell me what you think :))

tmz

liked by inhalerfan1 and others

tmz 🚨 Scandal Alert 🚨 TMZ exclusive: Shocking photos reveal yourusername caught in a steamy affair with a Saltburn's heartthrob Barry Keoghan, despite being in a relationship of over 3 years! 😱💔

Stay tuned as we uncover all the juicy details behind this explosive cheating scandal.

view all other comments

inhalerfan1 omg what a slut! always knew she was no good for Eli

inhalerfan2 she's so fame hungry going after the most popular irish celeb, watch out paul mescal

ynfan1 nooooo girl nooooo

ynfanupdates

liked by ynfan1 and others

ynfanupdates ehhhh guys did you see all this?? yn and eli were spotted together like a week ago what the hell is going on??

view all other comments

ynfan1 I refuse to believe this is true, she's not like that

inhalerfan2 oh and you know her so well do you? ynfan1 maybe not but I do know tmz have lied in the past! they have no journalistic integrity

ynfan2 she must of really REALLY enjoyed saltburn

inhalerfan1 I will never listen to her again disgusting behaviour

deuxmoi

liked by inhalerfan1 and others

deuxmoi just hours after the news broke that his girlfriend of 3 years is cheating on him, elijah hewson is the picture of heartbroken at his show and their interviews :(

view all other comments

inhalerfan1 omg baby, #ynisoverparty

inhalerfan2 this is crazy, how could she do this to him while they're touring !

ynfan1 we don't even know if the rumours are true!! inhalerfan1 evidence is pretty stacked against your girl

inhalerfan3 can't wait for the single Eli era !!

yourusername just posted on their close friends!

this is hell there was 6 other people at that dinner and we got in separate cars home

replies:

bobbyskeetz yeah didn't think you fucked with barry like that

↳ ...... bobbyskeetz too soon? yeah just a bit man

taylorswift they are ruthless! please call me gorgeous, you're not alone in this xx

trumanblack are you in LA right now?

↳ I am yeah why does that matter rn matthew trumanblack just wanted to make sure I booked the flight to the right place. ↳ matttttt I'm gonna cry (even more)

ynfanupdates

liked by ynfan1 and others

ynfanupdates THIS IS NOT THE FACE OF A CHEATER. Also look how in love those two are !!! I dont not believe tmz on bit. ALSO people are being so mean to her. LEAVE HER ALONE!!!

view all other comments

ynfan1 couldn’t said it better myself

ynfan2 people hate to see a hot girl slay.

tmz

liked by 1975fan1 and others

tmz big brother to the rescue ? looks like the Healy siblings are sticking together through thick and thin. our cameras caught the eldest Healy sibling rushing to the states to support his little sister amidst her massive cheating scandal! 👀

looks like getting cancelled runs in the family huh...

view all other comments

1975fan1 oh he looks pissed

ynfan1 omg the poor girl she looks in bits 💔

inhalerfan1 consequences of her actions ynfan2 WE DONT EVEN KNOW IF ITS TRUE NONE OF THEM HAVE COME OUT AND SAID ANYTHING inhalerfan1 you are clearly unhinged babe xxx

inhalerfan1 great job playing the victim girl, what about eli x

elijahhewson

liked by yourusername and others

elijahhewson stop making shit up to sell you papers. this is the love of my life who was at a group dinner, leave her be.

view all other comments

bobbyskeetz ready to go to war for my favourite couple

ryanmcmahon_15 me too !

inhalerfan1 holy shit eli's is off private oh my GOD

inhalerfan2 it’s happening! everyone stay calm

trumanblack fair play mate

denisewelch its all so silly, clearly haven't seen how in love you two are !!

taylorswift glad to see her smiling again <3

ynfan1 I KNEW IT my parents could never .

ynfanupdates hope she's okay people were so mean to her..

yourusername

liked by elijahhewson and others

yourusername please learn to be nicer while I disappear x

comments have been turned off.

ynfanupdates

liked by ynfan1 and others

ynfanupdates it’s officially been a year and a half since we’ve heard anything from or even seen yourusername 🥲 I really respect her taking some time after that crazy barry situation but this is HARD

view all other comments

ynfan1 noo I’m the same, I do be missing her bops

ynfan2 fr feels like we’ve been put in the worlds longest time out

ynfanupdates especially with that last insta post 😔

yourusername posted to their close friends!

replies:

charli_xcx yessss queen the world is not readyyyy

↳ AHHH thank you C <33

rass75 AOTY pending?

↳ heheh idk ! genre change pending tho …

taylorswift cannot wait to hear what you're working on !

↳ and what if you hopped on a track?

yourusername

liked by elijahhewson and others

yourusername is there anyone out there?

come spend some time with me within the echoes of solitude, there might be some familiar faces x

// this is me trying  / the lakes / mad woman / my tears ricochet / mirrorball / slut! (feat. Taylor Swift) / let the light in (feat. Elijah Hewson) / both sides now (feat. Joni Mitchell) / coney island (feat. Matty Healy) //

out in TWO weeks !

view all other comments

jackantonoff lets fuckin GO

trumanblack so moody, almost emo?

yourusername coming for your gig big bro x

gabriette woooo they are not ready !

charlixcx AHHHH so buzzed (for all the sadness)

ynfan2 ah a sad album?? yourusername im sorry to confirm its not very pop 💔 ynfan2 so heartbroken ! but can't wait to hear it all, welcome back <3

elijahhewson so proud of you beautiful

ynfan1 OMG SHE'S BACK

ynfan2 oh no she looks so sad :(( slut! is gonna break me

ynfanupdates okay queen is back to dominate a new genre !

vogue

liked by yourusername and others

vogue our next edition unveils an exclusive interview with our beloved pop sensation! emerging from a year of solitude, she opens up about her toughest career moment yet and her newfound carefree spirit, crediting the unwavering support of friends, family, and the love of her life! don't miss out on the latest scoop - grab your copy and dive into her inspiring journey!

view all other comments

yourusername ahhhhh thanks for having me !!!

ynfan1 oh she slayss

ynfan2 bless her, the part where she talks about how nervous she is about not releasing a new pop album broke my heart

ynfan1 fr she doesn't get how much we love her ! yourusername AWH you guys !!!!

inhalerfan1 the love of her life .... her and eli are the cutest

yourusername

liked by trumanblack and others

yourusername HI again ! soooo I felt a tinnie bit bad that I'm abandoning my roots, espically so close to summer sooo....

espresso a certified bop* is out now xxxx

*certification is from my boyfriend so possible bias there ..

view all other comments

ynfan1 holy shit I LOVE YOU

ynfan2 eli is so in love im OBSESSED

charlixcx so hot omfg

bobbyskeetz man is whipped

yourusername isnt it that sweet?! bobbyskeetz i guess so 🙄 elijahhewson espresso

finished

hehehe this is so dramatic and for WHAt?! but I love and had so much fun making it. ENJOY <33

ALSO requests are open aswell so it me up xx

[matildaanymore]

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : bobby skeetz x fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Bobby is leaving to tour America with his band Inhaler, but he's unsure if he should let her go... and she's unsure if he wants this.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 : fighting, smoking.

Bobby rested his elbows on his shared balcony, cigarette in one hand the other rested under his chin, admiring the view from his shared apartment, when he suddenly felt hands go around his waist and a head resting on his back.

"What are you thinking abouttt?" he perked up at the sound of his girlfriends voice. "Nothing Y/N, just excited for tourrr" in a serious tone as he took another drag of his cigarette. You move to stand next to him, arms resting in the same position trying to admire what he's looking at. "What about tourrrr are you excited for" taking his cigarette placing it between your lips. "You know... the people, finding new places, being with the boys" "Are you going to miss meee?" his head turned towards yours taking in every aspect of your face. He loved how your eyes glowed in the dark, how graceful you were with every movement you did. "Yeah" he looked down fiddling with his fingers.

At this point you realised he wasn't giving you the same energy back. This time you returned the favour and admired his features "Bobby, what's wrong?"

He couldn't bare to look at you, he's been on tour before and it's been fine... has he had a fight with one of the boys? has it been cancelled? so many thoughts ran through your head but not what came out of his mouth next.

"I think we should break up" he finally met your eyes, he looked so drained and broken. "I'm sorry. What!" You looked at him like he was crazy and a scoff came out of your mouth "You're joking" taking another drag of the cigarette staring back into the distance. All he could do was run his hands down his face out of stress.

"No. NO! Bobby we aren't breaking up." "You can't tell me what to do!" this time he had anger in his voice. "I know I can't but why; tell me you're joking right..." your voice cracked unable to speak properly. The boy you've loved for years breaking your heart in your shared apartment. The boy who you grew up with. The boy who you supported no matter what. This tour wasn't any different...

"Just tell me why... please." he sighed refusing to make eye contact with you "Because-" "Because what" "I'm going away for a long time and a whole different country, i just can't do it anymore, being away from you, if you aren't in my life it wont hurt" Your jaw was on the floor, tears pricked in your eyes.

"Robert... You have been away from periods of times all the time. This is your job. I haven't ever stopped you from doing it, you've never stopped me from achieving anything! Your being stupid, did this whole relationship mean nothing to you at all..."

He had tears rolling down his face at this point as well, he knew he messed up, he knew those words should have never of come out of his mouth.

"Well... If you're gonna break my heart you better smash it to pieces cause I'm not gonna need it as much as i do right now. I love you, and you have messed it all up"

"Come along then, join us" "NO! NO BOBBY, WE'RE DONE"

Soon enough you stamped on the cigarette and walked out of your shared apartment knowing he would of left of tour in the morning meaning you can pack your stuff tomorrow...

[killersfool]

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.

[lgwifey]

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 ?

MASTERLIST

“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.

[petalprincessxoxo]

would u guys be interested in a new bobby skeetz fanfic?

here’s what I was thinking for it:

fluff fic

based in england

keeps seeing her when she’s on a trip with her friends and he’s in london for a show

she’s a guitarist for a pretty famous band

he completely falls for her from the moment he first sees her

*guys I’m really looking forward to the playlist for this one*

[purfectstormzz]

End game | Elijah Hewson x reader (social media au)

Summary: in which Mercedes driver y/n y/l/n is seen with a unknown man and everyone wants to know who the mystery man is.

Pairing: Elijah Hewson x Fem!f1!reader

A/n: I’ve had this idea for a while so I decided to just write it + there aren’t enough Elijah Hewson fanfics on this app

(PS: Picture credits to whoever took them)

Masterlist

Yourusername

Liked by Charlesleclerc, elijahhewson and 30000 others

Yourusername: Life lately

Username: i need to know who this is!!

Danielricciardo: when do I get to meet your mystery man

>yourusername: who says you haven’t?😏

> Danielricciardo: excuse me ☝🏼???

Charlesleclerc: 🖤

Liked by yourusername

Username: so nobody is talking about Charles his comment?

> username: he doesn’t look like Charles tbh

>username: guys I think that’s Elijah Hewson

Yourusername

Liked by Lewishamilton, inhalerdublin and 17000 others

Yourusername: about last weekend (feat the boss man)

Tagged: Mercedes, Lewishamilton, GeorgeRussel

Danielricciardo: guess your wonder boy needs to be at more of your races😉!

Liked by yourusername

Danielricciardo: I’m so proud of you🖤

>yourusername: 🖤🖤

Charlesleclerc: extremely proud of you!!

Liked by yourusername

CarlosSainzjr: P1 baby!!!

> yourusername: p2 for you baby!!!

> username: OMG ITS CARLOS!!

>username: dude no!!

Susiewolff: please I need that last photo!!

> yourusername: check your dms🙃

ElijahHewson: I’m so proud of u! <3

>yourusername: <3

Yourusername

Liked by ElijahHewson,CarlosSainzjr and 14000 others

Yourusername: Secrets out I guess. Elijah Bob Patricius Guggi Q Hewson and I have actually been dating since we were 17. He has been my number one supporter since the beginning and has secretly been at most of the races but we just kept him hidden🫣. Thank you my love for standing by me this whole time. I’m so proud of what you yourself have accomplished and I love you so much <3

Tagged: ElijahHewson

Danielricciardo: dude how much did your parents hate you to give you that full name??

Bobbyskeetz: not the full name💀

ElijahHewson: i love you too baby, I will always be your number one supporter<3

Liked by yourusername

Username: so they hid this guy the whole time? WTF!

CarlosSainzjr: Best kept secret on the paddock!

> Landonorris: dude you don’t know how stressful this has been!

> Charlesleclerc: @yourusername he deserves a present for keeping this a secret this whole time.

> yourusername: I’ll bring him a juice box next race🙃🙃

> Landonorris: I would actually like that tbh..

Username: they’ve been dating for 6 YEARS!!!!!!

ElijahHewson

Liked by yourusername, Bobbyskeetz and 1300 others

ElijahHewson: Am I officially a wag now?? Y/n Y/l/n I love you so damm much and I’m so proud of you. Thank you for always sticking by my side. <3

Yourusername: I love you too my love<3 (btw u can’t be a wag)

> elijahhewson: why not??

>username: Cuzz you’re a man dumbass

>username: wait so does that make him a hab?

Danielricciardo: our favorite wag☺️

A/N: I hope you guys liked this. This was the first fic I’ve ever made.

I was thinking of writing a story on how Eli and y/n realised that they liked each other.

[orangeinecstasy]

inhaler bf thoughts please please please please🙏

an: AAAHHH YES IVE BEEN WAITING TO DO THIS!!! had to do ryan first because i love him so much.

ryan bf thoughts ฺ｡*:･

quality time!! he will 100% just pop over to your place so that he can be around you. he doesn’t care if you’re just sitting on the couch as long as he’s with you

move dates! can totally see him wanting to try out different theaters and maybe even a drive in. also you totally make him watch the 1996 romeo and juliet OMG AND WHIPLASH!

#1 passenger princess. he doesn’t care that you’re the one that can drive he loves it

spa days were you guys do face masks

soooo many pictures of you on his phone. we all know and love his random aesthetic instagram stories and you’d be all over them

park dates

late night music sessions where he constantly asks your opinion on lyrics or how something sounds

songs dedicated to you at shows - would put out when i’m with you from the vault just to play it for you

constantly sending you songs that remind him of you

definitely have some sort of couples item like a matching necklace or ring. but it’s something simple like a silver chain or a small band. nothing too crazy that screams i’m matching with my partner

going back to the romeo and juliet part - definitely did a couples costume based off of their party outfit

definitely soft launched the relationship. he just wants to feel like yours and his and not another third parties

definitely wants to be the little spoon after a long day. you make him feel safe and happy and he wants to be fully engulfed in that comfort

reading together

wearing each other's clothes. because he's a short king you both can totally swap clothes super easy

sending him edits you find of him on TikTok - i KNOW he thinks they're super funny and secretly LOVESSS them

calls you before every show when you're not there

museum dates-- i feel like he would want to go to an art museum most of the time, but you would drag him to a science one at least for one of the dates

baking together-- he always tries to eat the cookie dough and you always tell him he'll get sick

painting your nails together

can 100% see him wearing a ring of yours on a chain around his neck. maybe your claddagh to be a bit cheeky

when he's sitting next to you he definitely will drum on you thigh or tap his fingers against to some rhythm that's stuck in his mind

dancing in the kitchen together late at night

such a big words of affirmation guy

music store dates where you guys try out interments and pick up a few new records

so so so many coffee shop dates

wine tasting in italy

an: the other three guys bf thoughts are already in the works. i wasn't sure if i should be a nsfw section for inhaler's but lmk if you guys would be interested in that!

[kindkingsarchieve]

photography era

inhaler x reader (platonic)

potential elijah hewson x reader (romantic) ??

reader is childhood bestfriends/ who doubles up as their occasional photographer, who the lads are trying convince to go on tour with them!

authors note: heyyyy so this is my first time every writing/posting something on tumblr so please be kind 🥹 social media aus are my guilty pleasure so i thought id try my had at one ! let me know what you think <33

yourusername

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

yourusername graduated college baby, celebratory drinks, idiots returned to the homeland, re entering my photographer era, (rare) pretty bus seens, my girls <3

view all 100 comments

bobbyskeetz at least this idiot doesn’t still get the bus at the ripe of 24…

yourusername WHO HURT YOU ROBERT ?!??

collegefriend no cause im gonna miss seeing your cute face every day

yourusername no cause I cant think about it or ill get all sad !!

yourusername collegefriend we’ll do coffee loads

inhalerfan1 wait who’s this girl?? How does she know the boys?

inhalerfan2 they’re all mutual friends! they all grew up together, think they met during school :)

inhalerfan3 she’s really into photography, she took alot of the bands earlier pics!!

elijahhewson great no excuse now come on tour with us

ryanmcmahon_15 yeah or youll be a big fat liar

joshjenkinson_ yeah time to join your idiots on tour!

yourusername …. dont tempt me

inhalerfan2 omg to be her

(liked by 50 users)

inhalerdublin

liked by yourusername and others

inhalerdublin dont mind us, just dreaming of festival season. not long now 📸 @lewevans

view all 66 comments

joshjenkinson_ 🤘🏼🤘🏼

bobbyskeetz oh baby take me backkk

ryanmcmahon_15 who are those good lookin fellas?

inhalerfan1 me 🤝 ryan

thinking bobby and eli are goodlookin

(1.2k likes)

yourusername @lewevans the man that you are, these a sick photos 🔥

lewevans cheers mate! hopefully see you in action this time around ?

(liked by elijahhewson,bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_)

yourusername oh ffs not you too 🫠

yourusername hahah U2 @elijahhewson

elijahhewson ….right prepared to be blocked

yourusername wait no no no come back! I dont even know who bono is !!

elijahhewson removed you as a follower !

yourusername added to their story

- bobbyskeetz hahahahhaha what an idiot

- joshjenkinson_ oh the receipts are coming out

- ryanmcmahon_15 well you know this is never gonna work to get back in the good books right?

- keep going tho

yourusername

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername so ill watch you life in pictures like a used watch you sleep 😭

Its now been a million days since my “best friend” cut all contact with me, come back guggi be here 💔

view all 1,000 comments

inhaler1 holy shit these photos are something else

inhaler2 was just thinking this! Ive never seen them before

yourusername heyyy they were acc taken by me! my camera roll is plagued with these boys at this stage lol xx

inhalerfan4 wow i didnt know eli could smile..

bobbyskeetz its yn’s superpower

inhalerfan4 fwfagshsjue wtf hi bobby

joshjenkinson_ and by a million you mean 1 day right?

ryanmcmahon_15 and we were literally all together last night

yourusername god forbid a girl exaggerates every now and again 😀

inhalerfan3 wait omg are they dating?? he looks so boyfriend in these

inhalerfan5 omg they have to be you are so right

inhalerfan2 jesus they’ve said so many times she their bestFRIEND dont be weird

elijahhewson accepted your follow request!

part 2

[storiesabouteli]

BitterSweet // Elijah Hewson X Reader.

requests: (1) pre-relationship!eli with an incrediblyyy oblivious and socially awkward girl that kinda avoided him bc he’s very charismatic and lowkey a fuckboy so she think he’s fucking with her 😭😭 and eli is tryna pursue her and making it obvious that he takes her really seriously + (2) i was just wondering if you could write an imagine where eli helps the reader with her anxiety / through an anxiety attack or something similar?

words: 3,6K

You had enjoyed the band; they were instrumentally solid, and their lyrics were captivating. Live, they were even better. Eli, drenched to the point that his hair was soaked, let out soft groans in between sung syllables. This was just the soundcheck, and though only a few fans were around, he was performing like it was the real thing.

“Think we can tweak it a bit more?” His voice pulled you back, a warning that you might be getting in over your head. Eli chuckled, eyes trailing over you from top to bottom with a slight smirk. You couldn’t tell if it was meant to intimidate, mock, or if he just found you pathetic.

“Of course,” you replied quietly, certain no one else heard. The walk over felt longer in your mind as the guys watched, and you reached for the guitar in his hands. His swift movement to pull the strap off revealed hints of muscle, all the pale skin and the brief brush of his arm, warm and damp with sweat, replayed in your mind.

“Will you be around?” His voice was deeper, smoother than when he sang, with a lazy edge that was almost too pleasant to listen to. You were getting paid for this entire experience. “It’s my job.” He raised his brows, that same confident grin tugging at his lips. You avoided direct eye contact, though you glanced at him from the corners of your eyes. You didn’t mean to sound so blunt. You were only here to set up the studio for their album recording—a short period, and soon enough, you wouldn’t see them again.

You liked them well enough, but Eli had that vibe of the guy who would’ve bullied you in high school. You thought you were past that. “I’ll be around,” you said more clearly, finally looking him in the eyes. He nodded, making a mental note of your face up close and the matching brand of your boots and his. Your delicate hand passed the guitar back to him, and he couldn’t resist; it was too easy.

“Thanks, pet. I’ll be needing you again soon.” Your gaze dropped quickly as you backed away. Josh overheard and laughed, while Eli turned a bit pink—no regrets, though. You knew guys like him. You’d worked with bands before, and you understood better than to let whatever that was get to you.

…

You only spoke when asked, keeping things strictly professional. Eli was openly watching you, blatantly, if honest. The producers asked you questions now and then, and you always responded, they’d nod and follow your advice right after. Eli already thought you were smart, which only made him more intrigued. You were focused, a little shy, content within your own bubble; he admired that. It was obvious you were fine like that, and he was bothering you, but he didn’t know any other way to approach you.

“Hey, uh…” he started, sitting across from you at lunch. Once again, you were alone, not in a bad way, just enjoying your break. “What’re you listening to?” You lifted one side of your headphones to hear him. He cleared his throat, needing to repeat the question before you could answer.

“It’s not the first time you ignore me like that, and I like it.” You had to bite your lip but still laughed, as if he were too much to believe.

“The Strokes,” you showed him your phone, sipping your Coke. You fidgeted with the strap of your white tank top, which happened to be just like the one he often wore—and was wearing now. Along with the boots, it was oddly charming.

“I love The Strokes, real teenage throwback. What are your favorites?” He smiled wide, a grin he hadn’t seen all day, feeling confident this was going well.

“See? We have so much in common,” he teased, even though, so far, it was just the band and clothes.

“I’m not a big fan,” you shrugged, “I think his voice is lazy and dragged out, not really my style, though the instrumental’s good.” His heart sank a little. You spoke so casually, completely unaware of the impact. Eli hadn’t found flirting so difficult before.

“All right,” he glanced around, watching you look at your empty plate instead of his eyes. “Did you enjoy yesterday? What did you think of the show?”

You briefly thought of the awkward moment adjusting his guitar with everyone watching and how he’d been appearing more and more on your social media—not him directly, but clips of him with fans. You’d even gained some random followers from being spotted with the band. Your feed was flooded with videos of him leaning close to a girl at the edge of the stage, his damp curls brushing her face. She’d clung to him, and he clearly loved the attention, even stopping post-show to chat and connect with everyone. It was an energy you didn’t have. You’d once wanted to be more like him but were now comfortable being reserved. He was just naturally good at it.

Then there was one photo—a girl holding his face in an intimate kiss—that made you pause. A fan captioned that Eli would make a perfect boyfriend, even if they weren’t together anymore. She was gorgeous, and he looked like he belonged with her. Him talking to you felt off, like he was doing it out of pity; you weren’t even on the same page.

“I really enjoyed it. You guys are very good.” You were honest, forcing a smile and pushing away your thoughts to show you meant it.

Eli wasn’t convinced of that. “Good to know. We’re close enough now to hang out and maybe share a cigarette or two.” You looked up at him, his hazel eyes gleaming, his freckles glowing with a hint of blush. He had that high-school-crush look, but it still didn’t make sense.

“Can’t you talk like a normal person?” In your mind, the question hadn’t sounded so hard.

“I don’t know; this way I get to keep talking to you, don’t I?” He raised his brows as looked away, noticing the rest of the band watching from another table. He could be over there, so why wasn’t he?

He dropped a crumpled napkin on the table and waited, saying he’d be persistent later when you just nodded, unsure what to expect. You were about to speak, and it was warming to see him actually paying attention, his caramel eyes fixed on you, his whole body focused—until he nudged the table, spilling half of the Coke onto your white top.

“Sorry,” his accent thickened, sending a jolt of anxiety through you. People glanced over, and Eli began wiping the spot, his hand brushing over the stain.

“It’s not helping,” you said, touching his shoulder. “Eli, it’s fine; you’re just making it worse.” Your firm tone made him stop, realizing you were right.

You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling a little embarrassed, and he quickly noticed. Without hesitation, he shrugged off his black button-down and handed it over for you to wear. It wasn’t like you could refuse; you still had the whole afternoon before you could head home and change.

“Sorry, like, the flirting’s intentional, yeah, but I wouldn’t ever mean to harm you.”

You fiddled with his shirt, playing with the buttons. It smelled nice. He was now in a tank top like yours, and you remembered mentioning how you liked his arms before to the voices inside your head.

You cleared the table, picking up his napkin too, and he watched as you tossed his number into the trash on your way out.

“These things happen, I guess,” he chuckled, getting the closest he’d come to a genuine smile from you. The lighthearted way you suggested he’d done it on purpose; if he’d known that smile would come out, he certainly would have.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give it back,” you reassured him, grateful he wasn’t phased by the incident, though disappointed the conversation had ended, even if it wasn’t going great. At least it was something, and he got to appreciate how well his shirt suited you the rest of the day.

“It’s yours now, ma’am.”

…

At home, you made yourself dinner, still wearing his shirt. Sure, you told yourself it was just because of the chill, but deep down, you knew you wanted his scent—cologne mixed with a hint of cigarettes—lingering around you. Despite your reluctance, you eventually washed and dried it to return it properly. As you lay down in bed, a wave of mental relief washed over you, savoring the solitude after spending nearly the whole day with them fine-tuning songs. You picked up your phone, intending to scroll until you drifted off, when an Instagram notification popped up. Opening it, you saw he’d followed you and even sent a message. You set your phone aside for a moment, feeling like he was physically there; somehow, it made no difference.

When you accepted the request and opened the DM, the first thing you saw was a picture: a can of Diet Coke spilling onto his jeans, captioned with, “Thinking of you.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly to yourself. Eli probably thought it was funny—maybe it was, in a way. “You there? Am I getting ignored online too?” It made you realize you'd left the chat open, staring blankly. “Sorry, was busy,” you replied, though you instantly regretted it, realizing you could've been friendlier.

The typing dots popped up again, followed by, “With something more important than me?” You had to admit, his shameless confidence was quite charming. “Washing your shirt to return it. Hopefully, you won’t try that again xx,” you replied, heart-reacting to the Coke photo he’d sent. You didn’t want him to think you were actually ignoring him. After a pause, just as you were about to drift off, his final message came through. It was a voice note, low tone, a little sleepy, smooth.

“Uh, don’t see the problem, you know? Got to talk to you, and now you’ll return my shirt with your scent on it. You’re making this hard for me.” You could practically hear him smiling through the words, and once again, you found yourself grinning into your blankets.

…

You know those days that just aren't good? Your eyes ached, and there was a sharp pain in your head. Before entering the studio, some girls in Inhaler shirts were gathered near the entrance. They greeted you, and you nodded back, answering a few quick questions about them. You were polite, so one of them handed you her number, asking if you could give it to Eli. You took the slip of paper—it seemed routine, as if he received these often. She was beautiful. Your mind wandered to the number of girls chasing after him, not just here, but everywhere.

"Bobby’s sick; they’re not coming in today." One of the producers announced, and you felt a bit guilty for being relieved. Today, you didn't want to see anyone. It was hard to explain—if you knew how to avoid it, you would. Your chest felt like it was being crushed, heart racing, the familiar grip of anxiety that you just couldn’t make stop. As you thought about leaving, it hit you that you'd have to pass by those girls outside and take the bus home alone. You also worried about the delay in recordings, though you didn’t think Bobby should be there if he was unwell.

"Uh, you here by yourself? We won’t be recording today; thought someone might’ve told you. I just needed to grab my stuff." Eli shook his lighter, a rescuer in disguise. You held a cigarette between your fingers, hoping it would distract you, but you were restless, tapping your boot on the floor and fumbling in your pocket for your own lighter to no avail. He didn’t seem to notice anything wrong—at least he didn’t show it. His curls were perfectly in place, his jacket pulled over his arms, and that familiar, inviting smile. He’d clearly spent some time talking outside.

You opened your mouth, numb lips struggling to hide how off you felt, but no words came. He stepped close, his rings catching the light, and you focused on how nice his hand looked—a random, sudden thought that made you frown slightly. "Let me help," he whispered, his minty breath brushing your face. With the cigarette at your lips, you kept patting your jeans for the lighter. This was the closest you’d ever been to Eli; his fringe touched your forehead, and you realized how easily you could rest your head on his shoulder if you just leaned in. He sparked the lighter, holding it to your cigarette, his scent dizzying. His hand brushed your shoulder, and you wanted more. His calm eyes took in your vacant look as his fingers traced down your arm. For the first time, you couldn’t look at anything but his steady gaze. His freckles seemed to judge you silently, wondering why you had no control over yourself.

Seeing you weren’t taking a drag, he pulled the cigarette from your lips and placed it in his. "You can hear me, right?" His thumb brushed your palm, and you focused on your breathing as your eyes began to water. Eli was patient, his calm presence grounding you as you tried to steady yourself. Holding your hand, he gently pressed it to his chest so you could feel his heartbeat—thankfully steady. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Feel that, love?" Closing your eyes, still feeling overwhelmed, you listened to his words. "Just breathe with me. You’re not alone; it’s all gonna be fine." His voice was a balm, and slowly, it started to sink in.

"You’re doing great; you wouldn’t even need me here," he said softly, matching your small laugh with his own. Your knees gave way slightly, and he held you by the waist, you were closer than ever before. "We can just sit here until you’re alright, yeah?" You nodded, sinking to the floor beside him, surrounded by a few guitars. You toyed with the rings on his fingers, finding it a welcome distraction, and he didn’t mind. Exhausted, as you always seemed to feel, Eli noticed your tired, red eyes and pulled you against him. It was only his shoulder, but you let yourself lean in. He took a drag from the cigarette, ready to toss it aside to focus on you, but you took it from him, repeating his movements.

"So, that’s our first kiss," he murmured, his usual flirty tone and smug grin returning. He seemed proud. "What?" you muttered, throat sore, but he didn’t need to hear it; he saw it on your lips. His free hand slid along your back, keeping you close, wanting to distract you from your own mind. He was good at it.

"The cigarette’s a swap of saliva, right? That counts." You wrinkled your nose, thinking how typical it was for him to come up with something like that. You put out the cigarette, tossing the butt away. Nicotine didn’t help much, but it was something—it was human nature, and you understood that. He noticed your shy smile, his effect on you having its way. "Not funny, Eli. I don’t get why you do this," you murmured, exhaustion pulling your eyes closed, though you stayed nestled against his soft shoulder. He swallowed, realizing you weren’t playing a game; you were just oblivious.

"One of the fans outside even gave me her number to give to you." Your tone was gentle, though the crumpled paper in your hand suggested you had some opinion on it. "You think I’m just messing around with you?" He took your face in his hand, studying your troubled eyes. "Why would I do that? I wouldn’t flirt with you if I didn’t mean it. I don’t know how to be more obvious."

The firmness in his voice cut through like the edge of a blade. Now it was his turn to look at you like a puzzle piece he couldn’t quite figure out. You stared at him like he’d just spoken in another language, your brow furrowing in confusion. “Aren’t you? I mean… isn’t this just, like, a thing you do? Flirt with people for fun?” Oddly enough he was still comfortable, Eli could be anything but scary.

He looked at you, serious, shaking his head slightly, as if letting you slip through his fingers was out of the question.

Eli raised an eyebrow, his grin slipping. “Is that what you think of me?”

You fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t know. I mean, you’re… you know…” Your voice dropped as if admitting the truth was embarrassing. “You’re you.”

He leaned closer, his voice low but insistent. “And what if ‘me’ wants you? What if I’m serious ‘bout this?”

Your eyes shot up to his, wide and startled, but you quickly looked away. “You’re not.”

“Yeah, I am,” Eli said, his gaze more serious now, one of those looks you couldn’t avoid. “I don’t just flirt with everyone. I don’t chase people. But I’m chasing you. What’s it gonna take for you to get that?”

His chest had been racing, but it started to calm as he took in your parted lips and the tears lingering in your eyes. He knew he was overwhelming you at a tough moment, and he hated that. His fingertips traced the bridge of your nose, lightly outlining your soft lines, enjoying how close you allowed him to be. “Are you okay, little one?” he asked softly, the edge of his jacket brushing your cheek to wipe away the last of your tears.

“Yeah,” you replied, the incident finally slipping away as you looked back at him, unable to focus on anything else. His careful eyes, the freckles scattered like constellations, each carrying its own name that you gave them—it was hard to think of anything but them. “God, I must’ve been such an idiot, right?”

He chuckled, his laugh warm and steady against you. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, gentle but grounding, repeating it a few times as if to anchor you. You rested your head against his chest, nestling your face there, feeling the safety of his warmth. Your arms wrapped around his waist, a quiet comfort settling in.

“You weren’t an idiot. If anything, I’ve been bugging you since I got here.” You murmured a soft agreement, and he laughed again.

“But it worked, didn’t it? What do you say?”

You hid yourself a bit more in his embrace, feeling good, as he held you close, content to be your shield.

…

There was a comfortable weight draped over you, not unpleasant in the slightest. Your legs were tangled up with his, and you could feel his breath against your shoulder, soon followed by a series of light kisses and playful bites. You laughed into him, accepting your fate, and hugged him tighter. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice sounding even better with that just-woke-up rasp. You glanced around, fully taking in the scene. His hand rested on your waist, his touch warm, and he was amazing at reading you, always respecting your pace.

“No one’s here yet. I’m not about to get you in trouble.” You smiled back at him, genuinely relieved.

“So you’re gonna hide us from them, huh?” he teased. “Hurts my feelings a little, y’know?” You looked down at your feet, ready to counter him, but before you could, his face was close again. He pressed a soft, wet kiss to your cheek. His messy curls tickled you, and you ended up laughing.

“When I make you nervous like this…” he traced his thumb along your hands, which were colder than your hot cheeks. “Is it a bad thing? Does it bother you?”

You met his gaze, smiling with your lip caught between your teeth. “I like how you talk to me, Eli. I just… don’t know how to deal with it right away.”

He nodded, his smile warm. “Good. I like that—it’s cute how you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

So effortlessly, he pulled the same reaction from you as before. The two of you kept talking, stealing these quiet moments before anyone arrived. Eli picked up on your hesitance with him, knowing you thought he was too charismatic for someone like you. But he also made it clear he didn’t mind your quieter world; he’d be just as happy living in it if you’d have him there.

Later that day, you ended up with his jacket draped over your shoulders and his hand resting gently on your back. You got to listen Bobby complimented you, saying you were better at adjusting his bass than any of the past techs they’d worked with. The way he talked about you was similar to how Eli did, which made you suspect Eli had already mentioned you to them before, even without knowing you well yet. None of them questioned your sudden closeness with Eli, not even when he introduced you like they didn’t all already know who you were. They were welcoming, you felt at ease.

 Eli’s hand slipped from your waist slowly, your smile softening as he looked at you. He was enjoying the way things were going. “I’m gonna grab us some food,” he said, tilting your chin up and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And a Diet Coke too.”

 You grinned, your smile so wide it showed all your teeth. “Want me to come with you?” Before either of you could say more, Ryan appeared with a question about drum kits, and Eli could see in your eyes that you wanted to answer.

 “I’ll be right back, I promise, little one,” he chuckled, leaving you with them. Minutes later, Ryan mentioned, “It’s great that Eli managed to finally talk to you. We’ve been hoping to catch you since that project you worked on with Miles.”

 The statement was so casual that you raised your eyebrows, realizing it had been over two years since that project—quite some time if you thought about it. “You guys were looking for me?”

 Ryan nodded, as if it were obvious. “Actually, Elijah suggested it. He’s into the albums you worked on. It took a while—you’re not exactly easy to track down.” You laughed, looking at them, struck by how Eli had admired your work for much longer than you’d ever realized. You’d thought he was out of reach, yet he’d appreciated your work from the start.

 “Don’t break our boy’s heart, alright? We’d have to side with you then, but we’d rather not,” Josh added with a smirk, and you felt your face heat up just as Eli returned, grinning, with a Diet Coke and fries in hand.

 You figured maybe you could handle this, after all.

[leaawrites]

Dumb & Poetic (Eli Hewson)

Elijah Hewson x fem!reader

Summary: in which, the one time where she walks away it finally ends.

Warnings: swearing, angst (can't seem to write anything happy, sorry), mentions of manipulation and a toxic relationship,

Wordcount: 1k

Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series

Musicians. The one species no one could ever truly identify, neither understand. Especially when they were so convinced about being the best, and god was he one of them. The touring. Music. Aesthetic. It made her settle for less than what she wanted.

Drunk kisses and broken promises seemed less hurtful after another poem with her as the muse. Little love confessions between lyrics and longing glances that he sent her way when he was performing on stage. She met his family and she met his friends. She met who was important to him and on the sleepless nights, she understood that she was never one of them. She was the distraction he kept by his side to not break down. Taking up every corner of her mind to occupy her whenever.

Being his - even when it was only for a split second - it was all what she wished for and all she hated. She wanted to be something to someone. But leaving her sanity behind for it wasn’t the plan. Leaving an empty bed in the morning because he came home late and gone early wasn’t what she was hoping for.

She knew she should be long gone from Ireland, gone back home and into the arms of her friends to make her feel better about herself after he fucked her mind up one too many times. She knew she should be long gone, still she found herself buying the last tickets the night before. She found herself wanting to see him one last time before she finally took her belongings from this god damn city and leave it for once and for all.

On the stage, the lights were making him look like a god. The way the people in the crowd would scream for him, it made him excited. It made him feel alive. She could see it in his face as he looked at them, when he looked at the other lads. This was what he wanted.

He had told her about it hundreds of times, always dreaming of becoming the big rock star he was born to be. The one people told him he would never be after hearing their early days and shitty Nirvana Covers. But he was convinced that he could make it. And he did.

Now, in the back of the club, it felt different. She was now part of the crowd, the one he adored, but she wasn’t part of those he loved. Not truly. She couldn’t understand why, but she never understood him in the way a lover was supposed to.

Still she couldn’t stop herself from drifting towards another future they might could’ve had. One where he actually was the man and didn’t just act like one. One where they could’ve been happy and where he tried to understand how she was feeling about his actions.

But now, how he stood there, talking about loss like he knew what it meant, it wasn’t fair. For months, she was the one holding him sane and for weeks she was the reason for why he seemed miserable. Running from whatever could remind him of them.

She bet that another one was already waiting for him behind the curtain, someone he would pout at to not walk out of the door. Someone he would tell how understanding he was, that he knew how she was feeling. But truly this was what was on his mind. Nothing else. All for the music, right? That was what mattered.

She saw it in his eyes when he caught her gaze. She was sure he couldn’t see her, still his eyes were focused on her silhouette for longer than anything else. A glimmer of something like regret lingering in his eyes. A feeling of nausea overcoming them both in the moment.

It only broke apart when Bobby walked over to him, nudging him and making him come back to reality. He said he was alright, still his eyes flew back to her the moment Bobby let it go. But she was gone. Like she had never existed. But he knew she was there, he felt it. The stage lights made it hard to see, but he knew her. He knew when she was near.

The door to the club opened, letting a bit of light through and swallowing her body whole after it closed. She was gone and he knew that it was his fault. She was finally gone and he was sure no amount of self-help books could help him now that she was gone.

He read them all, but he couldn’t remember one helpful thing from them now that he needed it.

The rain outside was pouring down on her and reminding her of all the tears she shed for him. All the arguments she blamed on herself after never understanding the reason why they were fighting in the first place.

Her boots were making sounds on the pavement, her hands were furiously wiping away the falling tears on her face. He was the one who left, so why did she still feel guilty about how it ended? It was only him and his facade that made it all crumble.

Part of her wanted him to follow her, to tell her that he was a dumb idiot for letting her go. That he regretted it all and that he could never love anyone like her. But he never came back, he only ever left. She knew he would never come back with every step she took further away from him, feeling nothing but free now. Even when the burden of his love would weight her down for a bit longer than she hoped for, this was the first thing they’d both done right in the relationship. Leaving was sometimes better than holding on to something so dumb, no matter how poetic it might seem.

[kindestofkings]

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

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.

view all other comments

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

wagsandstuff

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!

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

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 !

view all other comments

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

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

yourusername time is a terrifying thing..

view all comments

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

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

view all other comments

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

liked by eliswife and others

inhalerfanupdates WHO HAS THIS MAN SO SMILEY???

view all other comments

inhalerfan1 FOR REAL?? hes usually so moody

elijahhewson posted to their close friends!

replies yourusername pure stalker when did you take this pic??

vogue

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 !

view all other comments

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

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

yourusername

liked by lucydarcus and others

yourusername one single thread of gold tied me to you <3

view all other comments

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!!

[matildaanymore]

𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : bobby skeetz x fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Your brother is Ryan Mcmahon, drummer of the upcoming band Inhaler. What happens when you sneak around with the Irish bassist…

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : cigarettes and alcohol (oasis).

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I was awoken to a knock at my bedroom door. Not long after the knock appeared my brother Ryan.

“Get up, we need to leave soon.”

“Do i have to come with you?”

“Yes. You promised me last week that you’d come to the show”

“That was last week. I’ve changed my mind”

“No. You’re coming”

And with that Ryan closed my door in annoyance which led me to groan knowing i had to stick to my word of leaving the house tonight.

It wasn’t long before i hopped in the shower getting ready for the day. Frank Ocean blasted through the speaker on the counter as i washed my hair. When all of a sudden i got a text message. I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my body checking my phone to see who interrupted me.

Bobby - Bobert 🤘

You - Y/N🖕

Bobert 🤘

You coming to the gig tonite? x

Y/N 🖕

Unfortunately. I promised Ryan i’d come to this one x

Bobert 🤘

Um excuse me this isn’t an unfortunately moment. x

Y/N 🖕

It is when i’m gonna be stuck with 4 boys and one of them tries to convince others to play bird bingo for an hour. x

Bobert 🤘

I wonder who that could be cause it isn’t me. Maybe Josh? We should really have a word with him about that cause that’s out of order x

Y/N 🖕

Whatever helps you sleep at night babes x

Bobert 🤘

Babes? Okay Babes. Let’s have a talk Babes. x

Y/N 🖕

Bye. Gotta get ready see you soon. x

Bobert 🤘

See you soon babes x

I didn’t realise I was smiling at my phone until the last message. I’d say Bobby and I have a close relationship. I’ve known him for a while and i’ve always had a crush on him. I mean who couldn’t. He’s 6ft with a mullet and plays bass in a band. And also my brother’s bestfriend and bandmate but we all have a secrets don’t we. I walked into my bedroom and shut my phone throwing it onto my bed getting ready for the night ahead of me. I threw on a black midi dress that flowed in the wind at the bottom and paired with my fur jacket, black boots and black bag and topped it off with jewellery. I then started applying the finishing touches to my makeup before Ryan called up saying that we are leaving in 5. I opened my bag and threw in my packet of cigarettes, a small bottle of alcohol, charger, lip liner and lip stick and other necessities i’ll need for the night before quickly making my way downstairs.

liked by ryanmcmahon_15, elijahhewson and 1,300 others

y/nusername : dressing up > down

📷 : ryanmcmahon_15

ryanmcmahon_15 : finally got photo credits for once.

➥ y/nusername : be grateful

user : where is the jacket from?

➥ y/nusername : it’s thrifted x

bobbyskeetz : this jacket looks like a bird meaning you have to bird bingo.

➥ y/nusername : … can i not get a nice compliment without it including birds.

➥ bobbyskeetz : no sorry xxxxx

bobbyskeetz : 😫🖕

➥ y/nusername : no. damage is already done 💔

user : UR HOT.

➥ bobbyskeetz : thanks x

➥ y/nusername : fuck off.

click to view more comments

We arrived at the venue and entered through the back door. There were a group already queuing even though it was only 2pm. It was so crazy to me how people would spend their whole day waiting in a queue for a show that will only go on for a few hours (i am guilty of this). They all screamed when they saw Ryan enter the venue which i still need to get used to. We get led into the green room which was already filled with the other 3 irish lads.

It wasn’t long before Ryan announced our presence ‘Hey! We made it’

‘Hey guys!’ Eli stood up and started hugging the both of us followed Josh and Bobby.

Bobby’s hug lasted a little longer than i wanted it to but at the same time i could stay with him forever. He’s such an easy person to be around. You could either talk for hours upon hours about random ass shit. You could tell him about girl drama and he would make small comments like ‘She’s a Bitch’ or You could both sit in the same room together in comfortable silence. You’ve never gotten on with anyone so well in your life. It was relaxing to know that someone understood you in that way.

‘We have soundcheck in about 2 hours so if anyone’s up for a round of bird-‘

‘Bobby… Don’t even mention the words Bird or Bingo today please’ He just laughed at my comment sitting down on the velvet couch placed in the middle of the room. He patted the seat next to him inviting me to sit down beside him which is happily accepted. The other boys were talking about god knows what when suddenly Bobby leaned over and spoke so only I could hear ‘Are you looking forward for tonight… babes’ I lightly slapped his arm telling him to behave. ‘You know i really was up for it until i remembered you were in the band again. What happened to them finding a new bass player?’ ‘You should be grateful i’m stuck to bass, I was gonna be the lead’ ‘Now you say it i am grateful you’d do anything but sing.’

‘Hey guys are going to go get food you coming with?’ Josh stood up and asked the both of us

‘No we’re good’ I looked at Bobby because i was really hungry and wanted food but i knew if id asked ryan he’d get me something ‘I’ll stay here, Can you get me something Ryan?’ ‘Yeah course, be back in an hour’

And with that the other boys left and it was just Bobby and I. Earlier I mentioned how it was always a comfortable silence with Bobby however this silence felt different. It felt like there was something needed to be said or something needing to happen. And I feel like he sensed the same. He looked over at me opening his mouth like he was going to say something. That was until I looked over in his direction. He shut his mouth and looked the other way scratching the back of his neck. Strange.

We sat on our phones for about 5 minutes until I broke the silence.

‘Bird bingo?’ ‘I thought you’d never ask!’ I rolled my eyes but there was really nothing else to do.

Both of us sat either side of the small coffee table places on the floor as he set up the game. I sat opposite him waiting for him to finish. ‘Let’s make this game different’ He looked up and hummed in response confused. ‘Let’s do some forfeits, everytime one of us loose a round we do something the other person wants’ in reply he just smirked at me laughing a bit. ‘Don’t smirk at me Robert I’m winning’ ‘We’ll see’

With that the first round started. It started off with shots being taken to us telling eachother random secrets and doing a small Q&A. It didn’t take long for it to get more heated and serious. ‘Next one i win…’ he lent in a bit till i could feel his breath. ‘We kiss’. ‘Okay’ i just smiled not knowing what else to say in response. I really wanted to but Ryan would be so pissed off if he knew.

And he won that round. That’s how it all started a silly game of bird bingo. That night when no one else was around we couldn’t keep our hands off of eachother sharing kisses whenever we could and having small makeout sessions in secret places. The boys were performing on stage and Bobby couldn’t take his eyes off of me when all of a sudden ‘Who’s your money on (plastic house)’ started playing.

‘Who’s your money on Dublin?’ Eli announced to the crowd as they started yelling out names of the band. I looked over at Bobby and i saw him mouth to me ‘Who’s your money on??’ I yelled ‘BOBBY!’ which caused him to laugh and walk towards Ryan at the back who was playing the drums. I took my phone out and started recording them for a little bit of the ending since this was one of my favourite Inhaler songs. It wasn’t long until the show ended and i was making my way back towards the green room when all of a sudden i got pulled through a door outside by the tour buses. Bobby stood there with the same look on his face he’s had all night pulling out a cigarette lighting it and then holding it out to me. ‘I don’t want this to be a one night thing’ he said taking a puff and blowing it out making deep eye contact with me. ‘Neither’ I said taking the cigarette back into my lips this time he was holding it which led him to pull me against him as we smoked together. We both stood in silence until it was stumped out sharing a quick kiss which tasted nicotine before heading back inside before the fans started coming out or even one of the others.

liked by bobbyskeetz, graciebrns and 4,829 others

y/nusername : who the feck are inhaler? (and if anyone can tell me who this man is staring at me lmk so i can block him xx)

user : who are inhaler?

➥ y/nusername : idk. u tell me x

bobbyskeetz : that might be me? i’m not sure though. just a thought.

➥ y/nusername : yeah it doesn’t look like you x

user : damn 2 pics of bobby we are being fed.

➥ user : and im eating them all up

elijahhewson : the best band ever

➥ y/nusername : dream on.

graciebrns : my wife

➥ bobbyskeetz : back off shes mine.

➥ y/nusername : bobby.

➥ ryanmcmahon_15 : what.

➥ bobbyskeetz : oops.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Now here we are. Bobby and I secretly dating. Ever since that night we’ve been inseparable. Ryan has been questioning why i’ve wanted to come to the shows so much now recently or why i always want to be around him and boys but he couldn’t know. You recently moved into your own apartment in Dublin still close enough to Ryan but also further enough to feel like you have your own space. Bobby has been round all the time even sleeping over. We’ve had a few close calls but now it’s just our little secret.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Author : This one is a little bit better but still bad. Gimme prompts 🙏🙏 (with anyone, if ik who they r) - Matilda xx

[killersfool]

hiiii i’ve a wee fluff imagine idea for bobby!! : )

bobby and the reader live together in a flat in dublin and the reader goes to trinity uni to study english literature (or smt else that has like a lot of reading and essay writing anol that craic) and she’s falling behind in a lot of her assignments and it’s all piling up and she’s just all overwhelmed and doesn’t know how to cope.

she ends up breaking down into sobs or shutting down at random points in the day due to stress and rob hasn’t got a clue what’s wrong and keeps noticing these random break downs throughout the week.

basically he comforts reader and helps to organise herself and just all fluffy cute comfort fic <333

If I could flip back time, bend the seconds and go back three years ago, I would do it right now.

Pile after pile of flashcards, annotated books with pastel post-it notes shooting out of the sides, folders of Irish poetry I can hardly understand, tattered photocopies of Hozier lyrics, every work of Shakespeare staring at me from my overcrowded booksheld — dusty, messy, probably even dank. Miss Carter has decided to set three more assignments onto my workload for the week. An essay on crime fiction (I haven't even read the first book on the reading list), my creative writing portfolio and then another essay analysing a piece poetry of my choice. Reading and highlighting Hozier's lyrics of 'I, Carrion (Icarian)' is the only thing keeping me going. Phoebe Bridgers blasts through my ears. It's quarter to 11. I need a break. An early night would be nice. Or TV. But do I really want to sit next to Robert whilst he watches his weird YouTube videos?

I kick my table. Not out of anger. Not out of irritation. I just want to see all of my notes topple ontp the floor. They do. Then I'm kicking the table three more times. Or maybe eight. All my flashcards are on the carpeted  floor, next to my discarded, empty packet of pinballs. I'd stolen them from Robert's stash. He'll never find out.

Climbing over my pile of unread books by my doorway, I push open the door. It squeaks. Some oiling would be nice. Trinity college really provides the best for their students! 

I still wish my roommate was also doing English, someone to bond with over shared trauma, to gossip about our nightmarish teachers and fellow students. But no, this guy is doing a degree in bloody mathematics. The complete dichotomy of English. No similarities. No way of comparing the courses to eachother. Him and his terrifying videos that he watches with his shoes up on the armrest, cheek in his open palm, drinking a cup of tea. Like it's that simple. Numbers and sin, cos, tan and circle theorems and whatever tragic nonsense is being spouted in his lectures.

He hardly speaks to me. Three years together and I barely know him. Sometimes I tag along with him when he goes out for breakfast. Once every two weeks. Sunday morning. We talk about school, about friends, about anything that pops in our heads. Yesterday we spoke about music. He originally wanted to pursue a career in music. A band. But they didn't work out. He took a gap year to pursue this group. So he's a year older than all of the other third years. He doesn't let that faze him. When he told me stories about his band, 'Inhaler', I had to lose eye contact, look down at the pink marshmellos floating about in my cup. He looked lost. This wasn't the place for him. He missed the confidence upon stage, the ability of making something out of nothing. Life is unfair. That is when I realised it. Hearing about shattered dreams and names of songs that were never produced.

I also realise life is unfair right now, as I accidentally bang my hip onto the kicthen island, the knife-like corner lodging itself into my skin. It's like the world is against me. 

Sometimes I wonder if Robert thinks I'm an idiot. I feel like I'm an idiot when I walk past his bedroom, hunched over his laptop, headphones on as he works through the most difficult maths questions I've ever encountered in my life. He makes university seem easy. Has his allocated times for study, going out with friends, the gym, practicing bass, going though record shops, meals, watching TV. Everytime he gets home, he drops his things down in the kitchen. I sneak a glance at the big green 'A*' on all of his test papers. I look up to him. His intelligence, his masterful management of time. I'm always too frightened to ask him how he does it. He'll think I'm stalking him. 

Me, on the other hand, I waste time. I don't have balance. I never have time to be with my friends. Always locked up in my room. A prisoner. Essay after essay. Poem after poem. Book after book. A constant cycle I've been in for three whole years. The stress is weighing down on me like a hundred bags of bricks. I need to stop for a second. To breathe in. To calm down.

So I do the last thing I would normally do. I go into the living room and sit beside Robert on the sofa. He's half asleep, jeans cuffed, hair all over his face. He sees me walk in, glances up, eyes big and speculting. He instantly moves his spindly, spider-like legs from the armrest to give me some space. I can hear some sort of maths video playing on the TV. I'm scared. At least it's not English. I'm immune to maths. It doesn't affect me anymore. Whatever logorhythmic scale this American YouTube man is yapping about isn't making my face contort at all — it's like sorcery.

This could be a way of winding down. Maths. I'm calmer now. No changes of focus or narrowing of perspective. No pathetic fallacy or magical realism. Just messes of words that don't really make sense at all.

"'D'you want to watch TV? I can turn this off if you want." Robert has his thumb on the home button.

"Leave it on. I just need a moment."

He dubiously puts the remote back down. He yawns, stretching out his arms and leaning back. I hate it when boys do that. With his parted, manspreaded legs, adams apple bobbing, head rolled back. It's idiotic. Completely idiotic. He doesn't seem too intrigued by Mr American man. The video is a guy next to a whiteboard writing millions of brain-numbing equtions. Robert is nodding along. I think I'm going to cry. I don't know why I want to right now. My hip is actually starting to throb and ache. I look down at my jeans. There's a hole in them. There's blood. It's wet. I hadn't noticed before. It's properly pouring out blood.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I exclaim, hand pressing down onto the cut through my jeans.

Robert swiftly nears me. He's looking at me up and down, hands trying to find a place to move to. It's dark in the room. He reaches for the lamp switch. "What is it? Are you okay?"

"I'm bleeding. Jesus christ. That kills. Fuck me."

He passes me his jacket and says, "Apply some pressure." 

Then he runs out of the room. Fast as a plane. A man on a mission. Long curls dancing to the rhythm of his steps. Mr American man won't shut up about algebraic expressions. He's got a really bald head. Glimmering. 

Robert is back. He has bandages. I don't know where he got those from. Antiseptic wipes, plasters, sweets, even a cup of tea. He was only gone for about five seconds. How did he manage to get all of that? He hands me the cup of tea and sweets whilst asking, "What happened?"

"I walked into the island like an eejit. I'm so feckin' stupid."

"Just breathe, okay. You're not an eejit. I do that every day." 

I have to unzip my jeans to let him check the cut. Which is awkward, to say the least. He's looking at me like a doctor — not really caring about seeing my skin — but I'm still so shy around him. He sees me struggle with the button. He undoes it, fingers coming in contact with mine. They're slender. So very perfect for the bass guitar. Then he's unzipping my jeans. Only the tiniest bit. A mere centimetre of my knickers appear out of the top. Any more than that and I'd be flush as a tomato. I've always had a little crush on Robert. Being stuck with a really smart bass guitarist with the dreamiest eyes for three years is enough to make a person fall. The reason I've been avoiding him lately has been due to that fact. I don't want to make it obvious.

He finds the cut. It's bled through my knickers, making a big blot of dark red. He pulls down the waistband of my pants, prepared to wipe the wound. I have to grind my teeth together to prevent a sob from escaping me. I'm crying. Stressed and hurt and just wanting to dissolve into nothing. The cold draft of wind isn't improving the situation. If only there was no such thing as coursework and I couldn't glide my way through university like Robert. 

More and more blood. I think I might pass out. The blue-eyed boy is knelt down on the floor, knees biting into the carpet so that he can properly see where to put the bandage. 

"So how's English going?" He's not looking at me. Only at the wound. I don't think he's noticed that I'm crying. I don't want him to. I cover my face with bloody hands, accidentally smearing the metallic substance onto my nose. 

I don't know what to say. Do I tell him how much I regret picking it? Do I make this already awkward situation about ten times worse? I hate when people pity me. I hate when I feel like eyes are lingering for far too long when I cry. But when Robert looks at me, it's different. The pools of serenity circling his iris aren't looking down at me with a sort of aristocracy. That's how my English peers stare me down. No, instead, he's looking at me like there's a billion questions rushing across his forehead. He just needs to decide which one to ask. Or to simply say nothing. Like I am. We've both learnt how to cohabit in silence. To walk past eachother and ignore the feathers of conversation falling between us. We're busy. Always busy. Except for those perfect Monday mornings that I always look forward to. Especially the one time when he showed me around his favourite record store. He had asked me to choose him a record to buy. I walked through the entire shop, fingers shifting records, reading unfamiliar artist names. Then, I saw it, the — now bane of my existence — Hozier's 'unreal unearth'. He bought it. He'd told me he only really knew 'Take Me To Church'. I'd leant against the till as he paid and said, 'it'll change your life.' Then he'd locked himself in his room. Through the ever so thin walls — paper thin — I could hear each track hum into my room. I never got the chance to talk to him about the album. I think the thought of bringing it up made me feel sick — due to the English essay upstairs still waiting patiently to be finished.

Now there is an excuse. To talk. I'm injured. I don't want to move. He's still attempting to wrap a bandage over my stomach, then across my back until it's around my torso. I feel his fingers graze my skin with every subtle movement, along my spine, the small of my back, my abdomen, my hip bone. He's still looking at me. Searching. Like I'm a new island and he's an explorer trying to name me.

"What's up, sweetheart?" He finally talks again. His words are throaty, emananting from the pits of his throat. He's still wrapping, waiting for an answer.

"Just college. You know. It's killing me."

He shakes his head. "You're so smart."

"Says you."

He shakes his head. "Look, this might be a bit weird but sometimes when you leave random essays lying around or even creative writing. I read them. They're incredible. Your mind just works in such an interesting way."

I'm at a loss for words. He reads those? Those are usually just failed attempts that I toss aside. Scrap paper. Strange drawings. I don't even want to look at them.

"You get top grades in every test," I sigh. "I'm barely passing. I'm the worst in the class. My professors hate me, I've got so much work, I'm falling behind in every assignment—"

Then I'm properly crying. Sobbing. Breathing so heavily I think I might collapse. Heaving. Sniffling. Covering my face so he can't see me. I'm like a child. Pathetic. Stupid. Worthless. I was never good enough for Trinity. Why did they let me in?

Warm arms, press of skin. Just above the wound, over my chest, arms dig into my body, hugging me from behind. Head burrowing onto my shoulders, knees into the sofa. His lips ghost the back of my neck. Tears are falling down. He turns me around to face him. I hate how he's seeing me like this. My cries are usually saved for when he's out with friends or blasting music on his record player. He's never seen me this vulnerable, just utterly ripped into shreds by the hands of life. His scent is making me feel better, the tissue now on my cheek makes me feel better, the quiet words of 'breathe, let it all out, it's okay' make me feel better. He's calming me down. I start to forget what I was even crying about when I look into his eyes. This intense eye contact. Remembering his height. Even sat down, his torso is far longer than mine.

"I've got an idea," he murmurs, peeling his body away. I miss the warmth. I miss the touch. 

"What is it?"

"We should go somewhere. Get out for a bit. Say it's a 'mental health field trip'." He curls his fingers to accentuate the apostrophes."Maybe down to the Cliffs of Moher. When you're all healed up of course."

"Give me a week."

"A week? I'll be the judge of that." He raises an eyebrow, now tying up the bandage.

"Where did you learn all this?"

"I'm actually first aid trained. Did it in my first week of uni." He takes a deep breath, settles back onto the sofa. 

I take a sip of my tea. My eyes are surely blotchy and red. I bet there's mascara all over my face. "Thank you so much."

"No problem at all. Do you want to tell me what's going on? Is there any way I can help?" He's referring to my school work. "I was alright at English in high school. No where near as good as you are. But maybe another opinion might help you."

"I'm really stuck on a Hozier analysis."

"I never told you how much I love that album. It's perfect." His eyes glow like they do when he's talking about something he loves. Usually it's caused by talking about playing bass, but right now it's due to the beauty of Hozier's music. "I learned the bass line of De Selby part two."

"Show me. Now." I don't even ask. It's simply a demand. Anything to take my mind away from that cut still bleeding profusely. A little concert would be nice. Especially if said concert involves watching Robert play bass. I sometimes peek through the crack in the doorway to see him sat down on his bed, pick between his index and thumb, bass guitar on his lap, headphones over his ears. The pure concentration on his face is unparalleled. Notes thrum quietly through the room. He falls into any piece of music.

"Alright." He laughs at my enthusiasm. "Then I'll help with your English."

"Thanks." This is probably the most I've ever spoken to him. I'm mumbling each word, not wanting to look into his eyes.

He disappears once again. This time I hear the thudding footsteps over creaky floorboards. I hear a door squeak open, the faint patter of rain upon the ceiling, the quiet murmur of distant sirens as night blooms. It's tranquil. For a moment, I'm at peace. Until I remember the stack of unread books in my bedroom. I groan into my hands. Everything just keeps getting worse and worse and—

He's back. Not empty handed. Bass in one hand, Hozier lyrics and my pencil case in the other.

"I emailed your professor about the trip. I'm sure she'll be okay with it." He's off again. He comes through the door with his amp and lead. He plugs both in. 

"You're a life saver, Rob," I say.

He starts twisting around the knobs on the bass. Volume up. Then he's tuning. He smiles up at me. I think I'm staring. I think he can tell. His long fingers, tattoos, rings. It's all too much. My fingers are restlessly tapping the armrest. My legs are up on the coffee table. He pulls out his phone and plays the song. Then I'm lost in the music. His eyes are closed as he slides his fingers up and down the neck of the bass, as he stomps his feet down on the carpet to every drum beat. If only I could go back to the days I'd go to concerts every day. If only I could go back and see 'Inhaler' on a world tour, watch Robert from the crowd, completely in his element. Exhilarated, chanting, knowing every lyric like it's my mother tongue. Sometimes I wonder what life could've been like if the band had worked out. If the world did realise just how incredible they are. But, here, appreciating each pluck of every string, the grin as he watches me. I can't take that for granted. 

[divainecstasy]

Free Now (R.K)

Summary: "It's a pain that I caught you at a bad time. It's a shame that I memorized your outline." - Free Now by Gracie Abrams

Word Count: 725

Warnings: Angst. (I'm sorry...)

Author's note: I haven't written in a while so don't expect too much... I just saw that there was a severe lack in Inhaler content, so here I am! Would love to hear feedback - my asks are also open for requests. :)

The flickering headlights were the only thing illuminating the dark alleyway. Her body trembled with the freezing breeze as she roughly grasped at her leather jacket, the buzzing of life softly heard from the venue inside. Two silhouettes huddled together, hushed whispering filling the quiet space.

“Bobby?” she called out into the night.

His head turned to look at her, his features faced with the harsh light emitting from the lamppost. The other figure stepped away swiftly, their head bowed down in shame.

“Love?” he asked in return, his face presenting a look of shock, a deer caught in headlights one could say.

“Uh – I was looking for you… Couldn’t find you in the green room, the boys said you were out here.” she explained with a soft murmur.

“Who’s this?” she quickly added on with a dry, awkward laugh, her nails digging into the crumbling leather.

“Oh, it’s Maya. She – uh – wanted to see us perform the new songs tonight.” he quickly spilled out as the other figure stepped into the light, a small yet forced smile on her cherry lips and a soft wave of the hand greeting her.

“Oh, hi!”

“Hi… Uhm, I’ll be heading back in then – quite cold out. See you later, Rob.” she mumbled before turning around and walking back into the small venue, not letting either of the two get in another word.

“Wait –“ was the last thing she heard before the doors shut with a loud thump.

The next thing she felt was a hand gripping her wrist and the doors flying open yet again, desperate eyes gleaming at her.

“You know it isn’t like that, I would never.”

The words rushed out like water, loud yet fuzzy amid the echoing instrumentals of the opening act.

“I know, Bobby.” she responded with a sad grin and deep-set brows.

“I know that you’re removed. I can feel it when we talk…” she mumbled.

In response, he just sighed. His face now pained, a deep frown etched into his features as he knew she was telling the truth. They had started this way too early, too fast. He knew he was far away from healing and even further from letting anyone in, Maya’s voice haunting him even months after.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready and we both knew it. I guess we were going along with it – playing those parts. I just hope you aren’t mad or hurt – that’s the last thing I’d want.” he spoke out, ending it with a dry chuckle as his eyes shimmered in the light of the empty hallway.

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Bobby. It’s a pain that I caught you at a bad time. It’s a shame that I memorized your outline… You were always straight up with me, so kind. But I knew what you knew – great minds I guess.” she spoke, a tear slid down her cheek as she laughed tearfully, the façade slowly crackling.

His hand reached up to cup her jaw, his palm warm yet rough against the surface as he slid it along the apple of her cheek, streaking the tear along. He smiled regretfully at the beginning of the end.

“God, I hate that this is how it ends.” he chuckled, sniffling softly.

“I hope you find somewhere safe for your baggage, Rob – I truly do. If you find yourself out one day – if there is a right time – chances are I’ll be here. But I finally know better than to wait for you back here.” she admitted with a pained smile before embracing him in a desperate hug, her face pressed into the collar of his jacket as she smelled his scent for what might be the last time.

“Have a good gig, Bobby. See you around, maybe.” she murmured into his neck, her hands gripping the back of his jacket. His own arms hopelessly clutching around her, his sniffling and a sheepish nod the only response.

And with that, she pulled away and turned around – for the last time now. The only thing he was left with was the jarring noise of closing doors and the coldness of the night entering the hallway, resembling the bitter sting of the ring on his pinky finger – more noticeable than ever before, the small engraving mocking him.

“Rob! Stage in 5!”

Well, fuck.