#ryan mcmahon inhaler
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leaawrites · 3 months ago
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Walking Home
Ryan McMahon x fem!reader
Summary: Bumping into a stranger on the streets in Dublin by accident transformed into an encounter she would never forget.
Warnings: none
Wordcount: 1.5k
Masterlist
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The streets were buzzing with the Dublin Christmas night scene. People pushing her from every side as she tried pushing through them. Her body being swallowed by the crowd whenever she had to walk through a busy street to get home. If it wouldn’t happen every weekday she would be far more annoyed by it.
Surely, there were quieter streets. But there were also scarier streets. The worst that could happen to her here was pickpocketing. Beside her phone, tucked in the breast pocket of her jeans jacket and her wallet, shoved in the other one, there was nothing to steal from her besides gum and old receipts.
With a tunnel vision towards the fresh air that she would be breathing at the end of the street, she didn’t notice the body standing in her way until a chain reaction of bodies tumbling reached her. Some kid ran against her leg, the parent, unsuccessfully trying to reach it, shoved her to the side and into another person, making them stumble back a bit at her force.
Widening her eyes in shock, she quickly turned and reached out to catch the body falling and tuck him towards her. Pulling him by the wrist and making him stumble towards her this time. His upper arm pressed against her chest as she breathed heavily at the event. Fear written all over her face. His face close enough for her to make out the little stubbles of a beard that he had most likely shaved off a day or two ago.
“I’m so sorry,” she started rambling, taking a step back to create space between her and the stranger. “I didn’t mean to shove you and then basically be all over you, I swear.”
Chuckling a bit at her reaction, he took it way easier than her. Putting his phone away that was previously clutched against his chest. “It’s all good, don’t worry.”
Smiling up at him with tight lips, they stared around each other for a second before they both spoke up again.
“I should get going.”
“Are you alone here?”
Both speaking at the same time. Awkwardly chuckling at each other when they noticed what had happened.
“I’m on my way home,” she answered, nodding her head while she spoke.
“So, not in the mood to get a drink?” He sounded almost disappointed as he connected the dots of her hurry and tight stance.
“Sadly, I don’t have the time for it. My room-mate’s already called me twice about when I finally get home,” she answered. She may not trust him fully yet, but he seemed nice enough that he wouldn’t try to kidnap her, which was a relief on her part.
“Do you mind if I walk you home then?” he asked, making her slightly tilt her head. Wasn’t he with someone? What was he doing all alone on a Christmas market on a Friday night?
Sensing her questions he spoke again, “I just said goodbye to some friends I met here and got nothing else to do now. Might as well be useful for something.” With his hands in his pockets, he shifted his weight between the front and back of his foot while he waited for an answer from her.
“Sure, I don’t mind having some company.”
Together, they walked out of the crowd until the end of the street, where the crowd thinned out and they could talk in a normal tone again. All the time while walking, she could feel his hand resting on the little of her back, making sure she was getting through the masses alright, without another encounter of falling.
The silence between them settled as something strange. Both of them were unsure of what to say, neither having done such thing before. Still it was comfortable. It felt easy to just walk like this.
“I’m Ryan, by the way,” he said, turning his upper body towards her while walking and sticking out his hand for her to shake.
“Nice to meet you, Ryan,” she answered, a smile spreading on her face at the gesture before she introduced herself, shaking his hand in the process. The warmth of his skin leaving a warmth in her chest. Butterflies blooming at the feeling.
“Are you from here?” Ryan asked. “You don’t really have an accent, so I just wondered.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m from Ireland originally, though my parents moved away when I was still pretty young, so I never got the time to really develop the beautiful Irish accent.” It sounded almost mocking how she said it, but she meant it. She liked it. Even when she sometimes could barely understand her grandma with how heavy her own accent was.
“I just came back for studying.”
“That’s cool, getting back to an unfamiliar home of some kind.”
“Yes,” she agreed, liking his wording. It seemed almost poetic to hear from his mouth. “What are you doing? Do you study or work?”
“I never really knew what I wanted to be. I never had that one dream, you know? So, whenever the topic of College came up, I got scared pretty quickly.” Putting his hands back in his pockets, the cold air was biting against his skin. “In high school me and some friends started a band, never really thinking we’d get somewhere big, you know? Well, we kinda worked it out and now I’m a professional drummer.”
“You’re in a band?” she asked, intrigued by the new figure she just got to know. She wouldn’t have guessed it from the first glance, but now, looking at him closer, it made sense. He had that way of carrying himself, like he knew that he made something of himself. Confidence blooming from his red cheeks.
“Yeah, we’re releasing our third album soon.” Her eyes widened at his revelation.
“Your third one?” she sounded almost more excited about it than him. “So, it’s going well?”
“You could say so, yeah. We wrapped up a North America tour in November and are going on Tour again in February until June.”
“That’s,” she started talking though the words got stuck in her throat. Sticking to her tongue like sugar. “Wow. So, I’m walking home with a famous person at the moment?”
“I wouldn’t say famous,” he tried playing it down.
“And when all your crazy fangirls follow you here how am I supposed to ever step a foot out the door?” she continued joking as she saw the smile form on his lips. Enhancing the beauty of his face. “Have you even thought of that possibility?”
“Guess I’ll have to fight them off for you then.” They both busted out into a fight of laughter as they continued their way down the quiet Dublin streets.
A woman stuck her head out her open window as she heard the noise coming from the street. Shaking her head as she must think that they were two drunk young adults, walking home after a party.
“Well, here we are.” She gestured her hands towards the building they stopped in front of. Pulling the keys from one of her pockets, she unlocked the door, debating whether she should ask him to join her or leave him to go home himself. Before she remembered the one obstacle. “I would invite you, I really would, but my room-mate’s really stressed at the moment and I promised to help her with some school work tonight.”
“That’s the reason for the hurry then,” Ryan answered his own question from earlier, making her nod in approval.
“Well, just call me up when you get off work and I’ll pick you up next time,” he suggested, stepping a bit closer to her. The streetlight illuminating his face just in the right angles. Casting a shadow on one side while enhancing the other. The corner of his lip quirking up where the light fell on it.
“Very sweet of you, but I’m not sure if I can consume your time like that, Rock star.” She wanted to agree, she really did. But with his busy schedule, she didn’t want to keep him occupied with her own life as well.
“I wouldn’t mind it.”
Leaning closer to him, she gently pressed her lips against his cheek. The contrast of her warm lips and his cold skin made his body heat up. A shiver ran down his spine, transferring over to her as she lost her lips from his skin.
“Thanks, Ryan.”
Disappearing into the little hallway of her building, she closed the door behind her, leaning against it and exhaling deeply. Peeking through the little patch of glass that decorated it, she could see Ryan still standing there, running a hand through his hair and smiling like an idiot. A cute one at least, she thought, standing still before he slowly descended down the street. A spring in his step.
Spending the rest of her night to search through Irish bands that were on their way up at the moment and soon enough she found them, Inhaler. His name, written on their Wikipedia page, smiling back at her like it recognized her face. Putting on her headphones, she pushed play on their first album, starting to get lost in the music and memories of him.
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d0llfaac3 · 1 year ago
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No.1 party anthem prt 2
Pairing: Ryan McMahon x rockstar!f!reader
Warnings: mentions of sex đŸ€­ and mild swearing probably
Social media au
Y.n.L.n (instagram story)
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Y.n.L.n
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Just some recent pics xx
Liked by bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon, user2 and 34,263 others
inhalerdublin: I wonder who that isâ€ŠđŸ€­
User1: they know something we don’t..
User2: mother is mothering rn
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ryanmcmahon: ur so pretty xx
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ryanmcmahon (instagram acc)
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We officially made it official @y.n.L.n
Liked by Y.n.L.n, Inhalerdublin and 27,456 others
Y.n.L.n: guys I know it the sec picture looks bad but I promise I kissed him after it đŸ«¶đŸ»
ryanmcmahon: it was a bit more than just kissing princess..
elijahhewson: PLEASE get a room
ryanmcmahon: can’t a man be happy?? â˜č
Yourmumsaccount: Ryan I’ve heard all about you from Y/n! I hope you two are behaving ❀
ryanmcmahon: as always ms L.n
inhalerdublin: the tiny one finally pulled
ryanmcmahon: leave me alone Bobby 😭😭
Y.n.L.n
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He’s my little princess đŸ«¶đŸ»
Tagged: @ryanmcmahon
Inhalerdublin: wear protection xx
ryanmcmahon: LEAVE ME ALONE ELI
Y.n.L.n: rawdogger till i die (it’s a joke Eli don’t shit urself)
Yourbandaccount: girl we’re so happy for the both of you, we hope you two stay together because it’s obvious that you two LOOVE each other
Y.n.L.n: NEVER DO THAT AGAIN IM SOBBING
Ryanmcmahon: honestly couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend, I get all in one, a rockstar, a cuddler, a romantic partner and a personal groupie, pretty good if u ask me
Y.n.L.n: what the fuck Ryan 😭
***************
Gang they got together I had no idea how to finish this off so ITS BADDD
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honeyeyesworld · 4 months ago
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There’s no Ryan (my love) or Josh fics on here I might actually start writing some or even doing instagram fics 😭
If you have any recommendations feel free to send them in đŸ«¶
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petalprincessxoxo · 5 months ago
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playlist for my upcoming bobby skeetz fic “sweet dreams, tn”
let me know what u guys think of it!!
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msmoony7 · 1 year ago
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need my inhaler fics to get the same amount of likes as my marauders onesđŸ˜©đŸ˜©
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neotckyo · 6 months ago
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Inhaler oh how i love u
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storiesabouteli · 6 months ago
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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
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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.
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inhalerdublinbaby · 4 months ago
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I'm gonna hold your bicep when I say this
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mcmahongifs · 5 months ago
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đŸŽ„: hahakcoolgtgbye [2024]
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hewsongf · 5 months ago
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PERFECT STORM
pairing elijah hewson x fem! reader
trope established relationship
warnings pure fluff. nudity mentioned but not sexual
summary she gets caught in a storm and elijah helps her stay warm.
words 1.2k
Every part of her body was soaked. Her blouse had become see-through. Her skirt had become pounds heavier. Drops of water slid down her bare legs. Every time she walked, her Doc Martens squelched. Her socks were wet, and her feet were cold and pruny. She let out a shaky sigh as she walked up the stairs up to her apartment. Her soaked hair was in a clip that was digging into the back of her head.
He heard the sound of keys jangling. The door was unlocked. She came in and was already leaving a puddle of water on the wooden floor.
He chuckled. "What the fuck happened?" He asked, a bit amused but also concerned. He left his spot on the couch and walked over to her.
"I got caught in the rain. Didn't bring my umbrella."
"I told you to take an umbrella this morning."
"Yeah, whatever." She snapped. She dropped her bag on the floor. His mouth closed before making a snarky remark. She was obviously pretty annoyed. He watched her take off her boots.
"Come on." He said then took her hand and dragged her into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet of the tub. Temperature is pretty warm. "Sit." He commanded while motioning to the toilet cap. She did.
He pulled off her drenched socks. Then he unbuttoned her white blouse. He did everything tenderly. She kept staring at him. He looked tired. She knew he had been up very late writing. He took her bra off. Shame was no longer in the picture. He had seen her bare body many times. He wasn't even looking at her that way.
"You don't have to do this." She whispered to him. He finally looked her in the eyes as he pulled her up to take off her skirt. "I know." He replied, then unzipped her skirt. She felt warmth through her chest. That was in big contrast with the way her body felt. He always made her feel warm.
He helped her get out of her underwear. He also pulled her hair clip off and stuck his fingers through her scalp. He massaged her head, and she sighed. A moan escaped her, and he chuckled. Then he stuck the tips of his fingers in the water to check the temperature. It was a good type of warm now. He gave her a hand and helped her get in the tub. He caressed the top of her head.
"I'm going to go make you some tea. You're probably going to catch a cold." She was shivering slightly. Her nose was red, and she was sniffling. She nodded, and he stepped out of the bathroom.
He put the kettle on. He wasn't upset at her for snapping. Or the way she obviously was in a piss-poor mood. She tended to be a little moody. Whenever she ran out of patience or was annoyed at something, she was a bit intense. He never took it personal. It brought humor to him — which she hated. He usually got her to come around, though.
The kettle was taking forever. He heard the sound of the drain. Hopefully she was warmer now. She left the bathroom and went to their room. He messed with the settings of their stove. Increasing the heat. Her small frame came into the kitchen. Sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and a hoodie she stole from him on her body. He was leaning back on the counter facing her. She looked shy as she got closer. They didn't speak. She was ringing her hands. He grabbed one of her hands and pulled her into him. Her face nuzzled into his neck.
"Sorry, I snapped at you. She murmured into his skin. He scoffed, the sound vibrating through her body.
"That was nothing. It didn't bother me."
"Still. I don't like it when I'm mean to you."
"You're always mean. That's why I like you so much." He kissed her cheek, and she smiled. He looked down into her eyes lovingly. He could decipher anything she was feeling by looking at those gorgeous big green eyes of hers. "Are you warm? Your lips are still kind of blue."
"I'm good now." She nodded while looking up at him.
"Want me to warm them up?" He asked with a cheeky grin, and she chuckled. He pulled her in and placed his lips on hers. His lips were soft and warm against hers. She could taste the remnants of a cigarette in his mouth. He had probably had a smoke earlier. He cupped her face. Calloused hands against soft, cold cheeks. He slipped his tongue in her mouth, and she shivered. This time it wasn't from the cold. He tasted her. She was his favorite flavor. She hummed. His hands left her cheeks and settled them on her hips. Pulling her closer. He could do this forever. He ran his hands up her sides. The kettle whistled. It scared them both, and their lips separated with a smack.
"Shite." He cursed, then grabbed a handcloth and placed it over the handle. He poured the hot water into the two mugs. Her favorite mug. It read, 'Dibs on the lead singer.' His was a U2 mug with his dad's face plastered on it. It was a gag gift from her. He made both their teas how they liked it.
"Careful. It's hot." He warned before he passed the mug to her. She blew on the hot liquid. Smoke fanned her face. They moved to the couch and just sat there in comfort and silence. Elijah and her could always relax together. Especially when he's in vocal rest. She can tell what he wants without him even speaking.
He was being so sweet to her. It made her eyes burn. He wasn't looking at her, but she was looking at him. Sometimes when she looked at him, feelings would choke her. Sitting at her throat, waiting to be spilt. They had been dating for around 6 months. She hadn't said it yet. The word had always made her uncomfortable. She had warned him about it. He said it to her first. Sometimes he drops it in conversations.
Right now though. The words were at the tip of her tongue. Ready to stumble out.
"Eli..." She let out breathlessly. His head turned. He saw her expression. His brow raised in question. "What is it?"
"I..." She gulped. She didn't know why this was so difficult for her. She cursed. He sat up straight. He could tell her. He just knew. Taking a sip of his tea before speaking.
"You don't have to say it. I know."
"What?" Her mouth agape. Eyebrows furrowed. He couldn't possibly know what she was about to say.
"Oh, come on. Did you think I didn't know? I see it on your face every day." He chuckled at her face.
"See what on my face?"
"Love."
"Fuck off." She rolled her eyes. He laughed louder this time. She crawled towards him. He smirked at her.
"You're such a bloody eejit." She sat on his lap. A peck to her lips.
"That you love."
"Yeah, whatever, fucker. I love you." He smiled widely now. Almost giddy. His cheeks turned pink.
"Are you blushing?"
"Yeah, whatever. I love you more."
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skeetzupdates · 5 months ago
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Bobby Skeetz on stage in Denver Oct 29
📾 @/jennysmedia via Instagram
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leaawrites · 6 days ago
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Crosswords In The Morning
Ryan Mcmahon x fem!reader
Summary: a slow morning with Ryan.
Warnings: fluff
Wordcount: 0.8k
Masterlist, Inhaler Masterlist
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Her skin was burning. Flames scattered over her exposed skin as her eyes opened. Coming face to face with the man she fell asleep next to the night before.
Lifting her fingers up to his face, she gently brushed away the strands of hair messily falling into his eyes. Shuffling closer, she left a kiss on his bare shoulder. Traveling upwards over his collarbone, his neck, up to his ear.
Murmuring a soft, "Morning, love," as she laughed softly hearing him groan, still half asleep.
"You don't want to have me around, huh?" she asked, acting hurt.
Pulling away from him, she slipped away from under the covers quick enough to be far enough form his reach. Ryan's hand defeatedly falling back on the mattress as he mumbled, "Get back."
Laughing at his needy tone, she took a step backwards, edging out of the room.
"No, can't do. I've got a job to attend, you know?" she reminded him, making him groan again.
Walking into the kitchen, she started getting breakfast ready. While she was waiting for the coffee to be ready, two arms softly wrapped around her waist. Ryan's lips falling on her shoulder like it was part of his routine, his teeth gently edging into her skin before they were replaced by his lips once more.
"You still coming to the gig later?" He wanted to make sure she was there.
Having a time consuming job made it harder for both of them to spent as much time together as they wanted to, so every opportunity they had to support each other was extra meaningful.
"Yep, making sure I get out of the office early enough to still arrive before the show," she confirmed, humming as he began swaying the two of them to the song playing from the record player. "And wish you good luck."
"Haven't heard that from you for a long time," he said, taking both cups that stood in front of her before carrying them to their little dining table. Setting them down, he walked back over, picking up both their breakfasts and setting them down too. Sitting down, he waited for her to sit opposite him before he started eating.
They spent the rest of the morning in silence, both going through messages and texts, talking about what they were doing that day, showing each other funny stuff they found on the internet.
When they were both finished, she sat cross legged on her chair, crossword sat in front of her. Pen tapping against her lips as she thought about each question and each answer.
After putting the plates in the sink, Ryan walked over to her, sitting down next to her and leaning his elbow on the table and his head in his palm to get a closer look to what she's struggling with.
"That's 'Avian'." He points out to one of the boxes on the paper. 'What are birds also referred to as?' it reads. "I swear, Bobby never shuts up about those damn things."
"Let that man have his fun," she chuckled, rolling her eyes and swatting his arm. Still she noted down each letter, clean and readable. "You're such a party popper."
"Says the woman who threw up when I tried to kiss her the first time," he recalled the memory, earning a wide eyed gaze from her with her mouth wide open in shock that h brought that up again.
"We agreed to never talk about that again," she reminded him. Genuinely taken back that he mentioned it. "I was absolutely plastered, alright? Not my fault that you guys have so much alcohol at your parties."
"We were nine-teen! Let us have our fun," he tried defending himself. Taking her hands in his as she tried writing down another word.
Forcing her to turn to him, he was looking into her eyes. Recalling every time they said forever to each other.
"What do you say about a trip?" he asked out of the blue.
Her eyebrows furrowed, not quite understanding his meaning and question. "What?"
"After the tour's over, you can take some days off and we'll just go somewhere, only us. What do you say?" His voice always carried a sort of excitement for everything in life, but now, explaining his thoughts to her, he had never sound happier.
Especially when she answered, "Yes. I desperately need to get away from this scenery for a bit."
Pulling her closer, he left a quick kiss on her lips. Already knowing er next words as her eyes slipped over to the clock.
"I need to go," she said, smiling apologetically as his fingers rubbed circles over the back of her hand.
With one last kiss goodbye, she slipped out of the door completely. Leaving him to his own devices. Until night would dawn and he had her back in his arms just before going on stage and right after it.
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d0llfaac3 · 1 year ago
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No.1 party anthem prt.1
Pairing: Ryan McMahon x rockstar!f!reader
Warnings: light swearing and innuendo’s
Social media au!
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Y/n.L/n
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Just a lil photo dump from the tour so far, love opening for @.inhalerdublin đŸ«¶đŸ»
Liked by ryanmcmahon_15, inhalerdublin, bobbyskeetz and 30,340 others

Inhalerdublin: we’re excited to see how the rest of the tour goes with you and you know who đŸ€­
User1: PARDON??
Y.n.L.n posted to their story..
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Twitter thread..
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ryanmcmahon_15
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Some pictures from the UK and Ireland tour, so much fun thank you all for coming ❀
Liked by Y.n.L.n, inhalerdublin, bobbyskeetz and 26,798 others
User1: omg will Ryan and Y.n just get together already!!
User2: girl the tour has only started technically, we still get to have months of this :)
Y.n.L.n: pop off đŸ€
ryanmcmahon_15: ❀❀
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I’ll have a part 2 out soon 😋
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comehomeetomyheart · 9 months ago
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inhaler is my one direction
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inhalerupdates · 18 days ago
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Eli backstage and onstage at Lollapalooza Chile (@/pedroaceituno IG)
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kate-inthedarkness · 27 days ago
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Could you do another angst with rob please? ❀
Yeah! Ofc xxx
Hopefully you like it!!!
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Every Breath You Take - Robert Keating
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Robert Keating x fem!reader
Summary: Even though you and Robert are both in love with each other, there always seems to be something in the way of the two of you getting together. It’s only when it’s too late does Robert realise he has to say the words he’s always wanted to say

Warnings: Angsty romance kinda stuff, mentions of sex but nothing graphic, best friends that are too stubborn to ever do anything about their feelings LOL.
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It’s a late summer evening, the golden hour light spilling through the window of your favourite cafĂ©. The air feels heavy, thick with the tension that’s always been between you and Robert—unspoken, and undeniable.
You haven’t seen him in months, not since the day he found out about your boyfriend, Luke, proposing to you. When Rob found out through a mutual friend, he didn’t say a word. He simply disappeared. Not physically, but emotionally—closing himself off like he always did when things felt too real. When the words lingered just beneath the surface, but neither of you could ever quite say them.
Luke had always been the safe choice. Steady, predictable. You loved him, of course. And you had the engagement ring to show for it.
The big diamond ring on your finger was a reminder of how you were supposed to move forward, building a life together. But there was always something about your best friend, Robert. Something that felt like a piece of you was always missing when he wasn’t around.
And yet, here you were. Alone in a café, waiting for him.
The bell above the door jingles, and you glance up. There he is—Robert Keating himself. He hasn’t changed much since you last saw him, but there’s a weight in his eyes today that wasn’t there before. A knowing, something raw.
He hasn’t said a word yet, but you can already feel the conversation coming. You know what he’s here to say, and somehow, you’re not ready to hear it.
“Hey,” he says, sliding into the chair across from you.
“Hey.” You offer him a small smile, trying to mask the sudden knot in your stomach. You never could get rid of the way he made you feel. It was always this push and pull. You two had always been best friends, but there was something deeper that never had a chance to grow.
“You look
good,” he says, his gaze flickering to the engagement on your ring finger that glistened brightly when the sun hit it.
You swallow, trying to steady yourself. “Thanks, Rob.”
A long pause settles between you, and you can feel the weight of his words hanging in the air. This was the moment. The one you’d always known would come, but never expected to feel so real.
“You didn’t tell me,” Robert says, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it feels like thunder in your chest. “About Luke proposing. I found out through Sam for fuck sake. You’re my best friend, why would you do that?”
You bite your lip, looking away for a moment. The silence stretches on, suffocating. You had hoped he wouldn’t bring up this part. You thought maybe, just maybe, your past mistakes would stay buried.
“I
I didn’t know how,” you finally manage, though it feels like an excuse. “It all happened so fast. We’re happy, Rob. I’m happy.”
“I know you’re happy. And I’m happy for you, I really am,” he says, but there’s a faint bitterness in his voice that makes your stomach twist. “I just
I wish you would’ve told me. I mean, we’ve been through so much together. I thought I deserved to know.”
The words sting, more than you anticipated. It’s not like you didn’t want to tell him—it’s just that the moment never felt right. Maybe, deep down, you feared his reaction. Or maybe, you feared that he’d see right through you, see how much you’d been trying to bury what you truly felt for him after all this time.
“I swear to god I didn’t know how to bring it up, Rob,” you admit, feeling your heart race. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
He leans back in his chair, his hand running through his hair in that familiar way that always used to drive you crazy. The way he always did when he was thinking, or more when he was overthinking.
“You’ve never hurt me, not in the way you think,” he mutters, voice almost too soft. “It’s just
watching you move on, knowing I’ve always been here, feeling like I’ve never had a chance to say what I should’ve said before. It’s been killing me, y’know?”
His words hit harder than anything you expected, and the realisation crashes over you; this isn’t just about the proposal. This is about everything—the past, the present, the what-could-have-beens.
“You should’ve said something sooner,” you say, your voice quieter now, more vulnerable than you meant it to be. “You and I
we always had this thing, Rob. You know that, right? What happened between us years ago, might’ve been just sex to you at the time, but it wasn’t just sex to me, I fell in love with you.”
When you two were teens, you were fully best friends with benefits. It just happened one night at a house party, and then it never stopped. The two of you thought it wouldn’t hurt to fool around, but in the end, the both of you were broken and never really the same.
“But then things got messy. I met Luke, and we stopped messing around, and our relationship changed. I didn’t know what to think when we started drifting. You were never around when I needed you. So because of that I never knew how to bring up my relationship with Luke, never mind our engagement! So I just
let it go.”
“I know,” he responds, his gaze steady now. “I’m sorry. I thought if I stayed away, it would be easier for you, for both of us. But I was wrong, I know that now.”
You take a deep breath, the weight of it all hanging between you. A thousand memories flood your mind—the late-night talks, the stolen kisses, the times we’re you’d sneak out to his car and go between talking and fucking for hours, the times you used to laugh together, not thinking about anything but each other.
And Luke
the guy who had always been safe, always steady, but never this. Never the intensity that you shared with Rob.
“I don’t know what to do with all this, Rob,” you say, a shaky exhale escaping your lips. “I love Luke, but
God, I’ve never been able to shake the way you me feel. I never could. But I also couldn’t wait around for you to get your shit together and be with me. I had to move on.”
Rob’s gaze softens, his hand reaching across the table, fingers brushing against yours. It’s a touch that feels so familiar, but at the same time, too much. Too raw. The air between you two seems to crackle with something unspoken, something both terrifying and beautiful.
“I know, love. I know. You don’t have to think about me, or Luke, or anything right now,” he says, his voice cracking a little bit with emotion. “I just
I had to tell you how I feel. I couldn’t keep pretending like I’m okay with just being your best friend. Not when I’m in love with you.”
You thought you physically felt your heart and soul leave your body. His words echo in your mind, but you’re too afraid to say the same thing back to him out loud.
The realisation hits you, sharp and painful. You had always known, or at least you think you knew. Deep down, you had always know what was between you, but fear, timing, and life had always kept you from facing it. Now, it’s all on the table, and you have to make a choice.
Or at least think about making a choice.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Rob. I can’t hurt you. It’d kill me,” you murmur, looking down at the table, the weight of his confession pressing down on you. “But I also don’t want to keep pretending this doesn’t matter.”
Rob exhales slowly, his thumb gently tracing the back of your hand. “I know. I never wanted to put you in that position. But I also don’t want to keep pretending that everything’s okay when it’s not. We can’t go on like this, acting like it’s just friendship.”
You raise your eyes to meet his. His face is unreadable, a mix of vulnerability and resolve. But in his eyes, you see it—the same thing you’ve always seen; raw, unfiltered love. The kind of love that’s always been there, lurking beneath the surface.
You hesitate, heart racing, as you think about everything you’ve built with Luke. But the truth is, you’ve never been able to stop thinking about Rob. Not really. Not in the way you think about Luke, who feels like a safe and predictable future.
With Rob, it’s always been about the intensity, the passion, the unspoken connection that runs deeper than anything else you’ve ever experienced.
“I don’t know what to do,” you whisper, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want to lose Luke, but
I don’t know if I can keep ignoring how I feel about you. I never could.”
A gentle smile tugs at Rob’s lips, but it’s bittersweet. “You don’t have to make any decisions now. We’ve got time. Just
don’t forget that I’ve always been here. And I always will be. Even if I’m not the one you choose, I’m still your best friend, and you’re still mine. That won’t ever change.”
The words linger in the air, hanging between you both like a promise. Whatever happens next, you know you can’t go back. You’re standing at a crossroads, but for the first time, you’re not afraid to face it.
As you said your goodbyes and when your separate ways, you slipped on your headphones to keep you company as you walked to the bus stop.
You pressed shuffle play on the playlist you and Rob made with each other a few years ago, in your teenage years.
The song “Every Breath You Take” by The Police started playing, and in that moment you knew what your decision was.
It was Rob.
It always was Rob.
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