please write a jealous aidan smut wherein he gets possessive when you attend a music festival with him and one of the popular musicians (who was your celebrity crush prior to you and aidan dating) try to flirt with you thank you so much
I Chose You. I Keep Choosing You
Warnings / Tags: trashy fanfic, oral (female receiving), Established Relationship, Fluff & Emotional Intimacy, Jealous / Possessive Aidan, Shawn Mendes mentioned, Mild Tension â Reassurance
Summary: Your birthday was supposed to be simple â a gift, a flight, and the one person who made you feel like home. But between your first concert, a little jealousy, and Aidanâs need to remind you where you belong, the night turns into a collection of firsts youâll never forget.
A/n: sorry it took so long i burned myself out writing so much đ
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Aidan had decided to buy you tickets to see Shawn Mendes for your birthday. He wasnât the type of musician he liked, but he knew you did, considering you had been singing âWonderâ and his other songs. He was also sure he knew the lyrics because you played Shawn in the car and in the apartment over and over, saying you had to listen âone more time.â He was tired of hearing it, but he loved you enough to suck it up.
When your birthday rolled around, he waited until you were getting out of the shower and held the tickets behind his back. The two of you were going to fly to Los Angeles from Toronto, so he had to give them to you now. He had planned some other things for the days in the hotel and the airport, but right now, he had to give you the tickets.
You came out smiling at him, knowing he was hiding something.
âAidan, what are you doing?â you asked, giggling as he came closer.
âWell⊠I am giving you your first birthday present. Your present comes in parts, but this is the firstâŠâ he says softly, not wanting to give it away as he hands you a box. You look at him curiously and with a mischievous smile.
âOh, really? What is it? Are you giving me money to go do my hair while you set up a party?â you ask, based on the boxâs size and weight, but he doesnât answer. You untie the box and slowly wiggle the lid off, and then your eyes go wide when you set it aside. Youâre absolutely speechless. You had never gone to a concert, so Aidan expected you to react this way. Your eyes fill with tears, and he canât help but chuckle as you start to sob and hug him. Itâs the only thing you could do right now, even though youâre jumping up and down inside, and he hugs you back.
He pulls back when you are just sniffling, wipes your teary eyes, and kisses you softly.
âHappy birthday, my love,â he says as you begin to giggle, and he smiles.
After getting packed, youâre both off to the airport, and when you finally board the plane, you gasp because Aidanâs got you both first-class tickets. Partly because it was your birthday, but also because he couldnât sit in the regular section without risk of being noticed, and he wanted you both to relax for the flight without fans in your face â even though he loved them.
This was another experience youâd never had because, of course, you couldnât afford it, but it was another perk of having a celebrity boyfriend. Not that thatâs why you were with him. You never asked for anything but Aidan himself. He just liked to do nice things for you.
You pressed your palm to the cool window as the runway lights blurred into gold threads. Aidan leaned over to buckle you in like you were some precious thing that needed tucking in, then kissed your temple once, quick, like a secret.
âFirst time in first class, first concert⊠Iâm stacking your firsts today,â he murmured, smug and soft at the same time.
You tried not to cry again. It didnât work. He laughed when you swatted at his chest and tucked your fingers under his shirt, greedy for warmth.
Los Angeles met you with night air that smelled like hot pavement and chilling breeze. The hotel was glassy and overpolished, all city lights and curtains opened with a button. Aidan pressed it just to watch you gasp at the skyline, then you both stood at the window to see the view of Los Angeles, his arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder.
âHappy birthday,â he said into your skin, and you could hear the promise inside the words.
You spent the afternoon in the hotel for the rest of the time before the concertâpicking outfits, arguing playfully about shoes, dancing badly to the hotel Bluetooth speaker while you did your makeup. Aidan sprawled on the bed and pretended to be unimpressed when you spun around in your dress, but the way his pupils widened gave him away.
âShawn Mendes, huh,â he said casually, like he hadnât heard you sing Wonder off-key in the shower for three weeks straight. âYou used to have a crush on him.â
âUsed to?â you repeat, walking your fingers up his sternum. âHeâs talented. I can admire art.â
He caught your hand, smile crooked but tight around the edges. âAdmire from far away.â He pressed your palm to his mouth. âIâm right here.â
You kissed him slowly to soften the line of his jaw. âYouâre my favorite singer,â you said, and he rolled his eyes so you wouldnât see how much that landed.
The arena was a sea of phones, glitter, and perfume. Your seats were close enough to feel the bass in your ribs, close enough to see the thread on Shawnâs shirt when the lights flared white. You screamed through the opening chords because how else do you build a bridge between a girl in her bedroom and the thing sheâs always imagined?
Aidan stood behind you, hands braced on your hips like you were the only solid thing in the room. He didnât singâbut he watched your face like he was learning the words that way.
Shawn talked between songs, that easy stage charm like a velvet rope. He shaded his eyes, scanning. The spotlight swung, found your section, and paused when it landed on your dress. He smiled. Not the general celebrity smile. At you. He lifted a hand and pointed, a little there you are motion that made the whole row scream.
Your heart hiccupped. You laughed, startled, a hand flying back to find Aidanâs fingers. You squeezed. He squeezed back, a fraction too firm.
The song switched to Lost in Japan. The crowd swayed. When the bridge hit, Shawn stepped toward your side of the stage again, mic angled, and tossed a line with a grin that felt like a dare. âI can't seem to get you off my mindâŠâ The girls around you shrieked and shoved in closer. You felt the heat in your cheeks and tried to smother it with your hair.
Aidanâs mouth brushed your ear. âEyes on the stage, princess.â
âNo,â he said, voice low enough to sink, âI meant his eyes. theyâre on you.â
You turned, about to joke, but his expression wasnât quite teasing. Possessiveness threaded through it, quiet and sharp. He didnât look angryâjust ultra-aware, like some wire inside him had been plucked.
You laid your hand over his on your waist. âIâm with you.â
âI know.â He kissed your shoulder in apology and didnât take his hand away.
The show burned bright and fast. By the encore, your face hurt from smiling. When the last chord shattered into confetti and the lights came up, a security guard tapped Aidanâs shoulder and leaned in for a whisper. Aidan nodded, then looked at you, testing.
âBackstage?â he asked.
Your stomach skittered. Heâd planned everything. Of course he had.
Backstage smelled like cables and citrus cleaner. The hallways were narrow, framed with posters and bouquets going soft at the edges. You were jittery with the surrealness of itâyour hand in Aidanâs, his thumb rubbing a circle on your wrist like he was keeping you grounded on purpose.
Shawn appeared with that stage-sweaty glow, still buzzing from the performance. He was beautiful in person, all charm and open shoulders. He greeted Aidan firstâprofessional, respectfulâand then he looked at you and the air shifted, a degree warmer.
âYou were front left,â he said, smiling, slanting. âI saw you singing every word.â
You wanted to be cool. You were not cool. âYou were amazing,â you blurted, and then, because your brain had abandoned you: âHappy⊠show?â
âSmooth,â Aidan snorted under his breath. You elbowed him.
Shawn laughed, eyes creasing. He held out his hand for yours. âIâm Shawn.â
âI know,â you said, placing your hand in his. His palm was hot. He held on a second longer than necessary, thumb skating once over your knuckles, not grossâjust deliberate. Your pulse tripped. Over your shoulder, you felt Aidan go very, very still.
âMy girlâs been waiting for this,â Aidan said, smiling easy, tone not. He slid an arm around your waist, drawing you half a step into him, a sleek, possessive line that said mine without words.
Shawn clocked it. He didnât back off, exactly, but the flirt cooled into something glossier. He asked a few more questions, took a photo with youâAidanâs hand remained on your hip in every frameâand then a PR person spirited him away.
The second the door swung shut behind him, the hallway felt longer and quieter. Aidan was polite to everyone on the exit route; he was the image of a man who had nothing to prove. His hand never left your body.
In the car, the silence was thick enough to spread with a knife.
âSay it,â you finally whispered.
His jaw flexed. âYou enjoyed that.â
âThe way he looked at you.â
You hesitated, honesty catching like a thorn. âIt was flattering.â
He stared out at the passing lights, voice a shade rough. âI know he was your crush.â
âDidnât feel like past tense when he was touching your hand.â
âHe touched my hand for a photo, Aidan.â
âHe didnât have to rub his thumb.â
You blinked, then let out a breathy laugh because heâd noticed everything. Of course he had. âYou were watching that hard?â
He turned, and whatever humor had been threatened vanished when you saw his eyes. Not cold. Just lit with that coiled, territorial heat that pulled at your spine.
âI watch you always.â The admission was a swipe of truth across both of you. âI donât like sharing whatâs mine.â
The words shouldnât have flooded you with warmth like they did but you felt it.
âI wasnât sharing,â you said softly. âI was showing off.â
His mouth twitched. âShowing off?â
âYeah. âLook at me, look at who I get to go home with,â You said, biting your lip as you looked into his eyes and trailed your fingers under his shirt. âYou.â
The hotel room door had barely clicked shut before your back met it and you gasped. Aidan braced one hand beside your head, the other caging your waist. He didnât kiss you firstâhe looked at you, deliberately, taking inventory like a man counting blessings and bruises.
âTell me to stop,â he said, voice low, even though neither of you meant it.
You slid your hand down his chest and hooked two fingers into his boxers, tugging him closer until breath mingled. âDonât stop.â
He kissed you like heâd been holding back all night. Hunger, yes, but something else threaded through itârelief, possessiveness that tasted like the sweetest spice pressed into yours and you wanted more. His mouth tilted your head as he kissed across your neck, his thumb traced your jaw, you rubbed your thighs together and he groaned, the sound going straight to your knees as you whimpered.
He carried the kiss further down your throat, your pulse, the soft line beneath your ear. âYou think Iâm gonna let some guy who sings about wonder make you forget who you belong to?â he murmured against your skin, more heat than words and god, you loved when he got like this.
âI didnât forget,â you said, breathing unevenly. âI just like it when you remind meâ
He smiled against your neck, then bitâgentle, claimingâbefore soothing the mark with his tongue and a kiss that felt like apology and promise in one. His hands were everywhere: framing your waist, spanning your spine, memorizing again, as if your body had ever been anything but familiar to him
he pulled you towards the bed in stuttering steps, laughing once when you almost tripped on your shoes. He steadied you with both hands and then didnât let go, backing you down to the mattress like you were something heâd chased through an arena and finally caught.
Your clothes became an afterthought, a trail of proof that you trusted him with your softness. He took his time when it mattered and none at all when you tugged his shirt away and said please. He read you like lyrics heâd written himselfâwhere to touch to make you gasp, where to slow until your fingers curled in warning, where to press a kiss that meant Iâm sorry, I love you, Iâm here.
once you were bare beneath him he wasted no time pushing your legs up till they were spread open and then his mouth was on you. he dragged the flat of his tongue along your folds till you shiver and arch, groaning at the taste of your arousal and it only encourages him to continue and remind you why you wanted to be with his.
Aidanâs tongue licked and sucked at your heat till your legs began to tremble so he held them in place with a single goal in his mindâmaking his girl finish.
He alternated between broad strokes of his tongue and targeted flicks against your sensitive clit that made your breath hitch and your hips buck, stoking at the thin line holding your release and the voice in your head telling yourself to wait a little longer to fall apart. Two thick fingers plunged into your dripping core, pumping steadily as he worked your clit with his mouth as you grip the hotel sheets steadying yourself.
"That's it, baby," he mumbled against your flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your pussy
"Gonna make you cum on my tongue. Soak my face with your juices like a good girl..."
He curled his fingers just so, rubbing insistently against that special spot inside you as he sealed his lips around your engorged clit and suckled hard, determined to push her over the edge.
âAidan,â you moan in warning, looking into his dark possessive, intense gaze. He was hunting you and he caught youâŠ
he doubled his efforts at the sound of your moans, driven wild by the way you sang his name like prayer. He kicks it up a notch. His fingers pumping faster, tongue flicking harder, pushing you closer and closer to the brink as you felt like you couldnât escape him holding you in place like this even when pulled back overstimulated. The obscene sounds of your pleasure were as beautiful to him as the view of Los Angeles.
"Cum for me, baby," he demanded, his voice muffled against your sex. "show me that youâre mine. I've got you..."
He kept his lips around your throbbing clit and suckled harder, if possible, grazing it lightly with his teeth as he curled his fingers just right, sending you hurtling into ecstasy.
âYes! Iâm yours!â You cry out tangling your fingers in that hair you love so much as you fall apart slowly and your legs go lax.
After panting and catching your breath Aidan crawls to lay beside you wiping the corner of his mouth. Your breath was mismatched and then it wasn't as you relaxed. He rolled onto his side and pulled you with him, tucking you under his chin and dragging the sheet over both of you.
You traced the seam of his mouth with your thumb. He kissed it, chastened.
âI was jealous,â he says honestly. âI hated it. I hated how easy he made you smile.â
âI smile like that for you,â you said.
âYou do.â He swallowed. âI know youâre not a thing to own. I know. But sometimes I look at you and Iââ He stopped, shook his head, tried again. âIt scares me how much I want to keep you.â He says looking at you with vulnerability.
You felt the ache of that confession, sweet and heavy. âThen keep me,â you said simply, because you didnât want to make it complicated when it wasnât because you loved Aidan. âI chose you. I keep choosing youâ
and you meant that because he truly was the only one you wanted as you snuggled closer and eventually drifted asleepâŠ
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