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slvtforasht0n · 13 days ago

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Jealousy, jealousy

title inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s track on Sour

.✦ || Boyfriend!Ash x Reader

.✦ || This is your first time being a stagehand at your boyfriend and his band’s show. Even though you couldn’t watch him perform, a particular interaction between him and a female fan piqued your interest. You couldn’t help but look, ought to see what’s happening. Instead, jealousy gets the better of you once you see what’s really going on, your mood permanently shifted. At least, that’s what it felt like.

A/N: first half is highly based on that one interaction that happened in the 5SOS diaries. forever jealous of that girl lol. anyway, i hope you like what i’ve brought out for you for my first post ever. kinda always wanted a tumblr account to post every idea or blurb i get, but ya girl can be very very lazy sometimes.

inspired to write smut ever since i had wattpad. saying this loud and proud. loved duplicity, stall and malignant so there’s that random fact (turn it up for all the other harries/directioners reading this)

i don’t write that much so i’m still trying to improve wherever i need to. ps. english isn’t my first language, so if you do spot grammer/vocab mistakes, it’s not on me sista, still learning:3 sooo i guess i’ll just finish it off by saying this; sit back, relax and enjoy :^)

CONTENT WARNING: fluff & smut, praise kink, oral (m!receiving), spitting, sliiiight dirty talking

WORD COUNT: 5,2k

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As much as you hate your boyfriend in this moment— he wriggled his way to here. His hands all over your frame, reaching to every spot he can find, almost as if his hands have a mind of their own.

His kisses grow more impatient, needy and full of want. Drawing gentle circles against the small strip of bare skin on your back, making you both break the kiss apart with a small gasp.

You weren’t sure of your emotions. Did you want to continue and make him have his way with you? Or did you want to push him away and strangle the living hell out of him?

A faint whimper escapes your lips in between the kiss, his hand traveling down to the heat between your clothed legs. That feeling alone begs to differ. As much as you don’t want to admit to it. You still have that small abhor, but also intense jealousy from what happened prior to all of this.

He breaks the kiss apart, his eyes finding yours. The hazelly green forest almost dispersed into his black pupils, blown out and primed. Fuck… you think to yourself. He looks so provocatively striking, like an erotic sex-god, which is enough to drive you wild— both in a good and a bad way.

“Let me make it up to you, amore mio.” He prompts, his hands finding your waist again to pull you in closer, showing you how induced he is, the want and need inside of him written all over his face.

—

This day has been…chaotic, booked, a haywire of physical and mental exertion that drove you into madness. Almost. You only had a 20 minute break before going back to work, crew following along, five different people guffing into your earpiece that just rubs you the wrong way. Being irritated isn’t even slightly nearing to what you’re actually feeling.

Finally, you walked inside the venue, a moment of calm before the storm. Happy you can let your guard down for another minute or two. You take a deep breath, moving scenery and props along with two other crew members, joining in after your one true moment of silence.

Being a stagehand at a show of your own boyfriend is uncommon, just something you’re not really used to. You’re not sure if you’re able to keep your cool seeing Ashton on stage, beating those drums expertisely, face etched into pure concentration. You always found it to be a work of art, to see your boyfriend practicing at home or somewhere that isn’t on a stage.

But hey, you bite the bullet once it’s showtime, having to face away from the stage, meanwhile he’ll be there to steal the show.

The crew had cued that the band arrived several moments later, and as much as you want to run away to find him, you’re still stuck planning, discussing and arranging tonight’s act.

Hours have passed on and exhaustion seemed to get the better of you. The small gig now filled with a couple of thousands of fangirls, boys, moms, dads, you name it. Two thousand to be exact. You’re not sure if it makes you intrigued, or uncomfortable. Either way, you find yourself lucky you’re not in that crammed crowd.

Playing more intimate, smaller shows was out of the ordinary for the band, something they wouldn’t have done a year ago or two.

The show has started not long after, and your back is facing the stage, eyes on all of these screaming fangirls for their idols in front of them, hands in the air, phones recording, but mainly their loud screams that’s luckily muffled by your in-ears. All you could do is focus on the beat of the drums, imagining his every movement of prowess, how trickles of sweat is already forming on his forehead.

You don’t have it in you not to look, so you do. Just the smallest of sneak-peak. Though, his eyes immediately found yours, like all of his focus was on the back of your head this whole time. Your heart starts to pound faster against your chest, turning your head back to the crowd ahead. Just keep your cool… keep your cool— You have to remind yourself every minute. Or rather every second.

You’re glued to the spot, making sure everyone’s safe and sound. However, there’s a small interaction going on between a fan and… Ashton. His voice being heard through the microphone gives you some sort of solace, your focal point on every pronunciation and syllable on the words that falls from his lips.

This particular interaction is focused on the fan’s cardboard sign, stipulating that it’s her twenty first birthday and now legal to drink, suggesting Ashton a shot. They expeditiously agree and brought the stunned girl up stage. Your eyes followed hers, turning around to look at the stage ahead. You didn’t have the heart in you to dismiss this and act like nothing’s going on.

Ashton’s change of demeanour, presence next to this fan, and just the overall vibes he’s got going on throws you right off the wall. It’s like he’s throwing her a curveball of coy behaviour, something that doesn’t sit right with you. It’s either that or you’re overthinking it. But then again, you might not be, especially having your eyes glued on him right now, watching him unfold into someone he’s not.

You hate it. You hated every second of it, watching the scene ahead. She gets to be the one giving your sweaty boyfriend a hug, a prolonged hug. Sharing a shot, looking into his eyes- him looking into her eyes. It’s like hot steams are blowing out of your ears by how much you hate seeing this with your own eyes. If it were possible, you’d throw Ashton’s drum kit right to his head out of spite and anger. You can’t believe him.

You’re definitely not overthinking, since you’ve picked up on him being ‘the man of the show’. Trying to seem more charming and appealing, in all the wrong ways. You know he loves getting this type of attention, boosts his ego in the wrong way and you’d love to just kick him right in the nuts.

Once the show’s over, you’re finally in your own privacy, changing your uniform to your day to day outerwear. A knock is heard on the door, catching you out of your hazy thoughts, while also feeling jealous and incensed. You open the door and you’re immediately knocked down with a feather.

“What are you doing here?” you utter, laced in a grim tone, not expecting to see his cheery face. Ashton stands in front of you, eyebrows raised by your surprising outburst.

“Checking in on my girlfriend. What else would I be doing?” He responds nonchalantly, entering the small room without needing to ask for permission. Of course he wouldn’t.

He runs a hand through his damp curls, looking around the room before looking back to you. It’s like he struggles to read you and why you’re not responding to him, why you’re facing away from him. “Hey…” He starts off, walking up to you and placing his hands on your waist, making you turn around to face him.

You push his hands off your body almost immediately, his eyes on stalks. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he counters, his eyes searching yours.

The more he acts this oblivious, the more you want to give into the idea of kicking him in the nuts and walking out of this room. You decide to just tell him before he’s going for the the well known question ‘are you on your period?’.

“The fuck was that up stage?” you angrily mutter, crossing your arms over your chest.

He seems confused, which is one more reason to be angry at him. How can he be so painfully heedless? You desperately need to just knock some sense into that thick skull of his.

“What?” he raises his arms in an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ motion.

“Oh, so now you’ve got memory loss? Great.” you roll your eyes, facing the other way instead of him. Again. How can a human being manage to piss you off this much? It’s inane.

“Amore… tell me.” He waits for you to say something, anything at all, but all you do is stand there and glare, causing him to take a step closer to you. “Was it the girl who I did a shot with?”

Bingo.

You can’t help but roll your eyes again, as if it wasn’t that obvious why you’d be mad at him about that in the first place.

“Oh come on… Nothing happened, alright? Just did her a favour and probably made her whole night.”

“Yeah, right.” You bite back immediately, not buying any of the bullshit he’s spitting. You can’t even look him in the eyes. You’re deranged in anger, but also so confused and hurt. He’d never gone this close to a girl before in all the months you’ve been dating, so he surely needs to understand why you’re acting the way you are.

“Why are you making a big deal out of this?” he murmurs, managing to boil your blood to the point you could burn anything you touch into ashes.

“Are you kidding me, Ash?” you poss in vexation, glaring through his soul. Words can’t express how tense you’re getting and how much you want to wipe that foolish smirk off his face.

“Babe, you can’t be serious, can you?” He sneers, his eyes giving you a once over. You only let out a frustrated sigh, turning your back to him a third time.

You don’t know what he deserves more, a sucker punch right to his jaw or the infamous silent treatment. Maybe both could give him a well-earned reality check.

“Are you seriously mad about some measly fucking interaction? Really, Y/N?” he huffs, seeming more annoyed than amused this time. Which makes you, on the other hand, infuriated by even more rage.

The way he acts so unbothered is insufferable. You turn on your heel, facing him, an angry etched expression on your face he certainly can’t dismiss now. “You were flirting with her, you ass! Right in front of me!” You bark back, sick of his apathetic state. Just utterly sick of him.

“I wasn’t, Y/N! Why would you even think that?” he retorts, his obliviousness turning into annoyance, his arms now crossed over his chest as well.

You don’t respond, only letting out a spiteful scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I really don’t see what’s wrong here. You have no reason to be mad at me. None.” he mutters, which is just the cherry on the cake, isn’t it? You let out another angry huff before turning on your heel and leaving him in the room, despite it being yours.

However, you’re not as quick as you thought you were as he catches your wrist, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t run away from me, baby. None of that bullshit. Talk it out with me, curse me out, just don’t ever shut me out, okay?” he calmly explains, his eyes trained on yours with his eyebrows creased together in concentration on you. Only you. You take a deep breath, flicking your eyes in between his.

“Why were you flirting with that girl?” you ask after a long pause, your eyes focusing on that one curl that fell on his forehead.

“I wasn’t.” He responds, and it just made you feel even more obscured from this ridiculous situation that brought tension between you two.

You’re starting to think you might be overdoing it. Might be a bit of the jealous kind and just making this ought to paint you to be dramatic.

“Is that all you have to say?” you mask getting offended by his short, incoherent reply, just by answering repulsively back.

“What more can I say then? You’re making a mountain out of a molehill here.” He crosses his arms again, and it just messes with your head on what type of emotions and feelings are coursing through him. What his thought process is, ‘cause he’s doing everything he can to dismiss the issue. Dismissing your feelings that are as valid as can be. At least that’s what you wanna think.

“Never mind.” You pull away from his grip, sitting down at the nearest couch. You’re done trying to argue to a wall, because that’s the position you feel like you’re in, feeling trapped in a loophole if he continues to act this clueless.

He looks over at you, no remorse whatsoever, and that somehow rises more anger out of you, though you make sure you keep your poker-face. There’s no point anymore if he won’t try to understand you.

“Are ya really just gonna sit there and stare?” he asks. But after a long pause, he just knows there’s not going to be a reply.

“Silent treatment won’t solve anything, love.” he adds, looking at you across the room, his eyebrows furrowed as he runs his hand through his hair again.

“Y/N…Just quit it already, will ya?” he grows more annoyed and impatient by your attitude. However, nothing will make you utter out a word again. Not when he at least attempts to apologise.

“Fuck’s sake, Y/N… I don’t have time for this. I’m sorry, alright? I wasn’t flirting with the girl- would never do that.”

You think to yourself you might have overexaggerated on wanting an attempted apology, cause it just pisses you off even more.

“Talk to me…” he prompts, taking a few steps closer to you.

You don’t respond, and he takes it as some sort of indication to stride closer. He takes your hands in his, pulling you up to your feet and cupping your jaw, making sure you look him in the eyes. “Please?”

You hate him. You hate him so much you’re becoming a tough nut to crack, and he’s fully aware of that. He knows how stubborn and jealous you can get over the smallest things. Still, you don’t know where his mind is.

He pulls you in for a kiss, connecting his lips with yours, catching you by surprise. His hands are trailing down your body and reposing on your waist, pulling you closer than before.

If this is how he ventures his way out to say sorry to you, when you can’t take it as a simple word, you’re not…entirely against it.

You stare profoundly into his eyes after he breaks the kiss, his eyes searching yours—But your feelings are very conflicting. You so want to give in, but you’re still mad. And you still hate him. Well, you’re trying to make yourself hate him.

It feels like it’s been ages since you’ve uttered out a word, but that’s none of your concern as you pull him in for another heated kiss, your hand finding its way through his tousled hair, earning a soft groan on his end. His tongue slips out and swipes at your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth as you oblige immediately.

He has you fully wrapped around your finger. You can’t even be mad at him anymore, even if it’s play pretend.

His hands are on your waist, but it didn’t take long before one hand slips between your legs, making you instantly weak in the knees.

“Let me make it up to you, amore mio.” replays in your mind over and over when you brought him in for another desperate kiss, pouring out all of your feelings and love for him. The way he said it, the desperation in his voice and his dilated eyes— you can never say no to that. You need him.

You’re a hot mess, letting out huffs of pleasure as he continues to palm you through your jeans, like an attempt to hear you, even if it’s not through articulated words.

He pulls away from your lips, traveling his heated series of kisses down to your pulse-point, eliciting another hot whimper out of you. You’re dazed and all you want is more. More of him. Just more.

He hoists you up, your legs immediately clinging around his hips as he leads you towards the small couch, laying you down and hovering his body over yours.

He’s such a sight for sore eyes, carrying the grace of dawn and the mystery of dusk. Your eyes wandering over every feature of his face, just taking him in. He bites back a smile, his eyes lingering on your chest, then back to your eyes. “Want me to make you feel good, yeah?” his voice is ragged with desire, low and husky that has such a toll on you.

He goes back in for a fervent kiss before you could even respond, pouring out all of his love for you that makes you forget the anger you once had a thousand times more. Your hands wander over his shoulders, all the way down to his hips, pulling him in closer, trapping him in between your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist.

He lets out a low grunt in between the kiss, his hips grinding against your heat, drawing out another small sound out of you. His hands that has a mind of its own fondling your breasts through the thin material of your shirt, like he couldn’t get enough of you and he physically needs more. You want more of him too, totally entranced by him, the heat of desire pooling in between your legs with an intensified want to have him in ways that’s unrefined. He moves towards the crook of your neck again, marking you up as his.

You’re already impatient as is, your uncoordinated fingers fumbling with his belt, like you can’t stand seeing him in clothes for another wasted second. He lets you, still immersed in marking your neck up, making sure there are angry marks left behind.

Once you’ve found the zipper of his tight jeans, you tug the material down, his hands coming in rescue and helping himself out of his jeans. In an instant, he pulls at the hem of your shirt, dragging the material over your head and throwing it somewhere in the room. Your eyes have wandered off to the door behind him and suddenly you’re too aware that someone could walk in easily.

“Babe… this room has no lock.” you mention, evoking a small smirk on his face. “Don’t you think it’s more fun that way? No one’s gonna come in.” He teases, eyes shamelessly staring at your bra, like he’s trying to smog up the power to disappear things with his mind.

“But-“ he’s quick to pipe you down by a kiss on the lips. “No ‘but’s’, you’re safe with me, amore.”

You pull him back in, sick of prolonging this any longer and seriously needing a good fuck if he’s gonna make it worth the while. If this is his way to at least attempt to apologise, then he better makes it good. Not that he has ever disappointed you in that division.

He hovers over you again, faces inches from yours, his hand snaking under your back to unclasp your bra in what feels like a nanosecond. He pulls the material off your body like it’s some sort of pest- like he’s been wanting it off since the moment he had laid eyes on you. He nips and sucks at your skin, hands exploring every inch of you. He licks a stripe right above your boobs, staring up at you with a well-known grin, eager to have his way with you.

He swipes his tongue over your sensitive nipple, lapping you up and then latching you in between his lips, paying great attention to you with his mouth, suckling and nibbling on your flesh. His other hand wanders to your untended breast, his fingers playing with the other nipple. You let out a soft whimper, already captivated by his fervent skills, your fingers threading through his soft curls.

Your eyes catches his, a sultry grin appearing on his face that has you overdriven with more arousal, more desire for him.

He moves to your other nipple, giving it the same, equal attention, drawing even more sounds and pants out of you.

All you really want is for him to hurry up. Your mind can’t get off of that damned door that has no lock on it, and he’s about to undress you intimately, which has made you apprehensive. He quickly catches on by your stiff demeanour and he lowers himself down, licking a long strip down your bare stomach- trying to make you forget about the door.

You lull your head back, your breath ragged and uneven as you tug at his golden strands tighter than before, earning a low grunt from him. He sure knows how to make you forget about stuff in an instant.

He has his hands on each side of your hips, trailing them towards the button of your black jeans. He works his way to get you out of your clothes, fast and determined, pulling the fabric down your thighs as you help him kick off the material.

“So gorgeous f’me, amore.” he grunts, quickly discarding his shirt off of him, accentuating his perfect, sweaty body to you, the sculputred abs and delicious pecs staring right at you as we speak. You sit up straight on the couch with only the flimsy laced underwear you’re wearing covering three percent of your body at most.

His eyes widen the moment you drop down to your knees in front of him, head-level with the black boxer briefs clung tightly on him. It highlights the swell of his tent that’s covered by the thin material of his Calvin Kleins. Your doe-eyed expression seems to get the better of him, already biting his bottom lip from your sight.

You waste no time, hooking your fingers under the material of his boxers, sliding them down ‘till they drop to his feet. He’s quick when it comes to stepping out of them, eager for you.

You’ve seen him like this before, plenty of times even, but right now— it’s like his arousal is as painful as it seems. His tip an angry shade of pink, pre-cum glazing down to his shaft. His breathing is laboured, his eyes concentrated on you, like he’s trying to moderate himself, keeping everything under control before he snaps.

You wrap your hand around his cock, the smallest of touch already making him hiss in pleasure. With deep shared eye contact, you start to pump him slowly, collecting the pre-cum that’s spilling out of him, whirling it over his tip, eliciting another desperate whimper from his agape lips. His eyebrows are creased, the purity in his eyes completely gone- reciprocated into something more coarse and obscene.

“Baby.. open your mouth.” he demands in a breathier tone, and you instantly oblige. With that, he cups your jaw with both of his large hands, his eyes intensely staring at yours. You don’t know what to expect, but he stars to hover over you, his face significantly closer to yours. He gives you that snarky smirk you know all too well, and then makes sure to lift your jaw a little up higher as he spits into your mouth without caution. Your eyes widen a little, his spit landing right on your tongue.

“Now swallow f’me, amore.” he orders, and you do exactly as he says.

Jesus…even in times like these— he still tastes divine.

His one hand threads through your hair, his other leaving the underside of your chin. “Show me what you’ve got…be my good girl.” he growls, standing up straight. You’re completely gone off guard by this small interaction between you and him, but you quickly shake it off, your trembly hand going back to where it was before.

You lick a strip up over his shaft, swirling your tongue on his tip that has him already writhing for more. You finally take him in your mouth, wrapping your lips sweetly around him and taking him inch by inch, a swall groan leaving his lips in exchange.

You set up a space, sucking him as you wrap your hand around the part that doesn’t fit in your mouth, his hand threading in your hair expeditiously. Low grunts and groans escapes his mouth, totally entranced by your ministrations as he couldn’t help but thrust forward, meeting your pace and rhythm all. He hits the back of your throat at every thrust, tears already brimming in your eyes that eventually seeps down to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but suck him with more precision, eyes deeply concentrated on his breathtaking face.

The desperation and anguish is written all over him, like he couldn’t bear this and needs you in ways where it’s humanly impossible to describe. Sweat already trickles over his forehead, eyes pleading for you, in a way that makes you believe his pupils are contorted into spelling your name- his want like a screeching howl that blares through your eardrums.

In a quick motion, he pulls out of you and you take your time to catch your breath, heaving them out like you’ve ran a marathon, quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He pulls you to your feet, hands on your hips and instantly pushing you backwards on the couch as your back hits the cushions, laying flat on the surface. Hovering over you, he delicately scans his eyes over your whole frame, taking in every detail from your tousled hair to your almost naked self. He traps himself in between your spread out legs, his length making contact with your lower abdomen, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

His arms are on each side of you, a few strands of his curls hanging over his forehead. “Need to fuck you, baby. Need you right now.” He murmurs, his voice hoarse and his tone laced in pure lust.

You bite your bottom lip as he positions you, hands firmly grasping your hips in desperation. “Please…” You utter out, the only thing your lips can form as a sole word, while your mind is going a million miles an hour with how much you have to say.

The warmth of his palms are soon replaced by the cool air hitting your hips, his hands sliding down to your thighs as his fingers prudently play with the lace of your underwear. “So beautiful…” He murmurs in almost a whisper. “I only have eyes for you, you know that right?” He adds, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, examining him. “I know...” you reply in a soft mumble and his lips quirk up in a lopsided smile.

You glance down his body, and the sight alone has you as weak as water. He pumps himself a few times, eyes still trained on yours. He pulls at the laced material of your panties, prodding his length right under the fabric as he teasingly begins to rub himself against you. You let out a stifled moan, eyebrows creased upwards in simple pleasure. He’s fervent with you, fastening his pace ever so slightly that drives you insane. “So wet f’me, yeah?” he grunts, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your soft moans are muffled in between the kiss as his hand that rested on your hip is now gripping your thigh, quickly hooking it over his shoulder. He positions himself at your entrance, gliding himself inside you fervently with your panties now pushed aside. A soft gasp escapes your throat, head already lulled back by how full he’s making you feel once he’s fully inside. After making sure you adjust to him, he begins to set up a slow pace, hovering over your body even closer as this new profound feeling intensifies, hitting you in all the right places.

“So fucking pretty for me, baby… Let me hear you, yeah? Moan f’me…” he praises, and all you could do in response to that is grow louder- despite still being in a semi-public setting. There’s a small chance someone could walk in, or even hear you through the door, but your mind is elsewhere. It’s on him, totally engulfed in pleasure he gives you.

“Taking me so well…” He pants, heaving out breaths as his thrusts start to become rougher, dragging out more moans out of you. “So good for me, aren’t you? Gonna fill you up so well...” He continues, his hands trailing over every inch of your body, fingers lightly pinching at your nipples, eliciting another whimpery moan from your lips.

He continues to thrust into you deliciously, hooking your other leg over his other shoulder, this newfound angle hitting your sweet spot delightfully over and over again. Moans spill out of you in an overwhelming sensation, that’s probably music to his ears by the way he’s thoroughly captivated by you.

His own moans fall from his lips once your hips buck up to match his rhythm of his thrusts. “I’m so close...” you heave out, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He takes this as a sign to fuck you harder. Rougher. Like he wants to break you in half.

He adds his thumb to your sensitive clit, drawing out louder moans, that has no way of becoming less when it’s only pitching up higher in decibels. “You’re so fucking hot, baby…So perfect.” he praises you, totally wrapped up in utter pleasure, the slapping sounds of skin on skin echoing through the room.

“Please…” you plead in a high whimper, not really sure why, but you’re completely overdriven in ecstasy, his thumb on your sensitivity never leaving you which adds to more pleasure, egging you on.

“Yeah, amore mio? Gonna give it to me, aren’t you? Show me… Show me how good I make you feel.” he groans completely out of breath, his chest glistening with his own sweat. He leans down, folding you in half like a damned pretzel, hitting you even deeper than before. He nips on the skin at the crook of your neck, humming against you.

“Making me feel so good…” he murmurs against your skin, his thrusts piercing more moans out of you, knowing how much you enjoy his rough side.

The bubbling feeling inside your lower abdomen intensifies by the minute, exhibiting that you’re nearing the finish line. He knows by your desperate pants and graphic sounds as he strives to get you to the pinnacle point of pleasure, picking up on his thrusts, fucking you harder against the cushions with fervor.

Your brain starts to feel like scrambled eggs, moving from left to right in a stirring pan as his lips finds yours in a sweet quick kiss, pulling away to look at you. His hands grip your waist as tight as ever, definitely leaving a mark behind. His whimpers like a melody you can never get sick of, no matter how many times you’re willing to repeat the same tune.

A few more thrusts in and you hear the familiar ringing in your ears as you near the edge completely, your climax washing over you like a tidal wave. You scream out his name in the process, clenching sweetly around him as he follows right behind you and finishes, trails of curse words falling from his lips in heavy grunts—filling you with his cum.

He unhooks your legs from his shoulders, pulling out of you with a small gasp. He crashes down next to you, heaving out hefty breaths. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to his glistening body. “See? You’re safe with me, just like I told you.” he breathes, letting out a soft chuckle.

You turn your face to look at him, a genuine smile formed on your lips, despite being completely out of breath. “Mmmh, never said you were wrong.”

He chuckles in response, planting a sweet kiss to your temple. “You felt incredible baby, definitely needed this after the show.”

You smile, all the anger and jealousy from before completely wiped off of you. “I always do.” you counter with a smug grin, giving him a bit of a tease.

“A win-win situation for me, eh?” He eyes you, eyebrows raised with a cheeky smile. You laugh, shaking your head. “Definitely.” You agree, a small giggle followed after.

“So… I take it that you’re not mad at me anymore?” He asks, his voice laced in a sincere tone.

You had almost forgotten about how immensely infuriated you were before this happened. “I forgive you.” you murmur, glancing at him.

“I mean it when I told you I only have eyes for you.” he utters, pulling you even closer than before, pecking the top of your head.

This was definitely a way to end the night, after a very small gig took place and how the man of your dreams next to you can have you riled up in anger as well as desire in the span of two seconds. You’re not complaining about it at all. You wouldn’t have him any other way— even if it means all the ups and downs that comes with it.

————

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lovesosweeet · 1 year ago

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better left unsaid // cth chapter seven

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn't know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

july 21, 2018 los angeles, california calum

One of the things that my girlfriend loves most in this entire world is going to Trader Joe's. Despite going every week, without fail, she gets excited each time. She calls it our weekly adventure and demands we get fun drinks beforehand to 'sip while we stroll.'

Knowing how excited she gets, I'm happy to oblige. I love making her happy. We're about to go this afternoon, but this time, not to get our standard groceries — she wants to get snacks for the party we're having tonight. I tried to say we could just order a few pizzas and nobody would be upset about it, but that set her off more, saying the frozen pizzas at Trader Joe's are elite and it's an insult to Joseph himself if we don't get those instead of something from Domino's.

We've spent the morning cleaning the apartment, clearing out the fridge to make room for drinks, and dancing to The Band Camino, one of her favorites. Well, Orion danced, I laughed at her. I'm trying to soak in the rest of our time together before I leave.

"Are you ready?" O calls out from the bathroom. She's drying her hair after our shower, something that takes her a while because it's so long and heavy.

I pop my head into our bathroom. "Yep, whenever you are."

She smiles at me in the mirror. Her hair is dry now, and she's weaving it into a loose braid.

"Want help?" I ask.

Her smile grows. "Yes, please. It always looks better when you do it."

I chuckle. I don't think it ever looks any different when I do it instead of her, but she always seems to love when I offer, so I try to do it whenever I can. I stride into the room, standing directly behind her, almost a full head taller than she is. She undoes the small amount of braiding she'd already done and then hands me her brush.

Carefully, I run the brush through her long, dark brown hair. The ends of it are slightly lighter from all the time she's spent in the sun this summer. Once it's brushed again, I separate it into three sort of equal parts and start to braid. I focus on the braid, but when I glance up from her hair, I see that she's got her phone out, taking a selfie in the mirror.

"Ay, no paparazzi!"

Orion giggles, taking a few more pictures before she puts her phone face down on the counter. "Sorry, you just look so cute when you focus."

I feel my cheeks get warm and ignore her comment, already almost done with her hair. She anticipates my next move and holds a hairtie out to me, which I quickly tie around the end to secure the braid.

"All done," I cheer, smiling at her in the mirror. I love when she has her hair back. I swiftly kiss the top of her head and wrap my arms around her waist, setting my head on top of hers.

"Thank you," she says, brightly beaming at me through the mirror. "Shall we pay a visit to Trader Joseph's?"

"Yep, let's go." I then turn around and squat down, and I hear Orion laugh behind me. "Hop on!"

"No, I will not hop on." I swear I can hear her roll her eyes.

"Hop on!"

"No!"

"If you don't, I'm still gonna carry you."

"Cal, I can walk!"

"You can, but not right now." I turn around, and she tries to sneak past me, but I'm faster, and stronger, and I lean forward, picking her up easily and throwing her over my shoulder.

She smacks my butt instantly. Predictable. "Nice ass, Hood."

"Says you," I reply, holding her steady with one arm and using the other to pat hers in turn.

I carry her to the kitchen, her laughter filling the whole apartment as I purposefully walk unsteadily, making her bounce on my shoulder. God, I love her laugh.

I gently set her down on the island in the kitchen, parting her legs and slotting in between them. Instantly, almost instinctively, she drapes her arms around my neck and her hands find my hair. My hands rest on her hips and I look into her doe-like eyes.

"I thought we were leaving?" Orion asks, running her hands through my hair.

"Where did you want to go to get drinks first?"

"Can we go to the place that has the cookie milk? Their lattes are always fun."

A fun drink. Orion loves her fun drinks. Her Instagram bio is literally "probs getting a fun lil drinky".

"Yeah, of course."

Even though we've decided, I don't move.

"Are we gonna go?" She sounds kind of impatient now, but she's still sweetly playing with my hair and looking at me intently, studying my face.

"One rule."

She snorts a small laugh. "What's your rule?"

"I get to buy you flowers at the store."

For some reason, Orion says I'm only allowed to buy her flowers on special occasions. It doesn't make sense, because she loves them. She also doesn't even like expensive flowers — her favorite is chamomile. It's just some odd rule she's had as long as we've been together, and when you care about someone as much as I do Orion, you learn to accept some of their silly little rules.

She purses her lips, rolls her eyes, and nods. "Fine, sure."

I grin. "Sweet, let's go get coffee."

I help her off the counter and we walk to the door together, Orion slinging her purse over her shoulder and I shove my wallet into my pocket.

"What shoes do you want, love?" I ask, opening our closet by the door where we keep shoes and our jackets. I grab my favorite, worn out Adidas and slip them on, not bothering to tie and untie them.

"Hmm, you pick."

My favorite answer. I grab her light blue Vans and start to untie them while I bring them over to her.

"Want me to put them on?" I don't even wait for her answer before I kneel in front of her. Orion chuckles, lifting her foot for me to slide the shoe on, and then the other, and then I start tightening the laces.

"How am I going to survive without you here? How will I put my shoes on?!"

"Obviously you'll just go barefoot, silly."

She chuckles and holds her hands out to me to help me stand back up. I don't let go of one of her hands and lace our fingers together before Orion is pulling me out the door, locking it behind us swiftly and leading us over to the elevator.

When the doors open, Macy is inside with a woman who looks strikingly similar to her, presumably her mum. She lights up when she sees us, and Orion does too.

"Macy! Oh my goodness, I can't believe I didn't think to invite you sooner," O starts, and here she goes, being her friendly, inclusive self. "We're having a party tonight. You should totally come, if you can! It's a little celebration for the tour."

Macy glances toward her mother, who seems totally disinterested. "I think I can come! Is it just in your apartment?"

Orion nods enthusiastically while she presses the button to close the elevator doors. "Yep, just in our apartment. We're 404. It starts at 7 but you can really come anytime after 5. Oh! And, the theme is black and white, so just don't wear any color if you can."

Macy agrees to come, and says she's looking forward to it, and then we're walking through the lobby. Macy and her mum head to the street, but Orion and I are going to the parking garage, so we tell them to have a good day and head to my car.

In the car, O hooks her phone up to the aux and she starts playing old 5 Seconds of Summer songs, which she knows I do not enjoy listening to. After I beg her to change it, she then plays really old One Direction, which is musically worse but less of a cringey experience for me, so I accept it. She's just doing it to be obnoxious, but her laughter is worth the pain of listening to "I Want" and "Save You Tonight."

We get our coffee — Orion got the most obscure sounding cookie latte thing and I just got an unsweetened iced latte — and I take a quick photo of her grinning with her drink. The coffee shop is quite close to the store, so we just leave the car parked near the cafe and walk the block and a half to Trader Joe's, where Orion is like a kid in the candy store.

As soon as we get in, I grab the only three bunches of chamomile that are left in the flower section and place them in the cart. Orion tries to hide it, but she's happy about it. We stop at the new items end cap next, and O grabs some random box of fancy crackers from the shelf.

"It'll be good with the honey goat cheese!" She explains, throwing the box into the cart.

I let her lead me, and when she asks me to pick between two things, I just let her get both. Orion picks out a wide assortment of dips and spreads, cheeses, crackers, some fruits, cookies, and, naturally, several of the frozen pizzas she ranted about earlier. We don't get any booze here, but we do buy some of the fancy sodas and sparkling waters to offer some non-alcoholic options.

After Orion decides we've gotten enough snacks for the party, we check out and drop everything off at the car before running to the liquor store quickly to grab a few cases of beer, bottles of wine, and large bottles of cheap vodka and tequila.

We get everything home and it takes us a few trips to get it up to the apartment and into the fridge, but we're able to do it before the frozen food starts to thaw.

"I'm gonna chop up the cheeses and stuff now so it's ready to go."

"Can I help?" I ask, watching her get out a cutting board and knife and lay out the cheeses.

She shakes her head no. "Nah, but if you wanna maybe figure out where to put the disco balls and the little light thingies?"

We didn't even invite that many people, at least not comparatively to parties that we’ve thrown in the past, but Orion really wanted to at least have a few decorations, and that meant some small disco balls to scatter throughout the place and colored lights to shine at them. The disco balls are fun, and she promised she'd find a way to incorporate them into the apartment's regular decor too.

A few hours later, everything's ready to go and the first two pizzas are in the oven. Orion has changed out of her workout set into a long, silky, lacy black dress that hangs off her body in a way that I could stare at for ages. Of course, she's wearing sneakers with it, as always. Her hair is still in the braid that I did earlier, but a few strands have fallen out and frame her face.

I'm wearing what we refer to as "The Shirt™" and black pants with black boots. The Shirt™ is the one I had on the night Orion and I met. I don't wear it often, because I don't want the stain to completely wash out, and technically I'm breaking the rules of wearing only black and white, since it's covered in a purple stain. My outfit honestly may be exactly what I had on the night I met O.

The first knock on the door comes at 6:21, even though we'd told everyone the party starts at 7, but naturally, we don't mind. Orion runs to answer the door since she's closer, and she swings it open to reveal Ash and KayKay.

"Hi!" She says, instantly pulling them into a mini group hug. "How are you!?"

"Excited to be here," Ash says. "Did you shrink?" He pats the top of her head, making her scowl at him.

"Play nice," Kay comments. "Hey Cal!"

"Hi guys." I give them both a hug as well, and they step into the apartment a few more feet. Just as I go to close the door, Macy steps out of the elevator. She waves when she sees me and I nod, holding the door open a bit wider. "Hi, Macy!"

Macy is carrying a plate of brownies. "Hello," she singsongs. "Sorry, I know you said it was okay to come early, but please tell me if I'm too early, I can just go back—"

"Macy!" Orion yells excitedly. If I didn't know her, I'd think she was drunk based on her excitement, but she's not had anything to drink whatsoever today. "You're totally fine! You're, as you can see, not the first person to get here. Ash, Kay, this is Macy. Her parents live in the building."

Our neighbor looks nervous as she waves. "Hi, it's nice to meet you."

"You look so familiar," Kay starts. "Have we met?"

Macy still seems quite nervous and she looks thoughtful after Kay's question, squinting her eyes a bit while she tries to think. "Maybe? You look so familiar too, but maybe I've just seen you online amidst 5SOS fandom." She laughs anxiously, and then her eyes widen, realizing she just admitted being a fan who looks at things about us online. It’s funny, and I don’t mind. Macy has been very cool whenever we’ve interacted, so naturally I just like that she’s a fan. It’s nice to meet fans. "Wait, sorry, I promise I'm not a crazy fan or anything, I just meant..."

Orion chuckles and reaches out to grab the brownies from Macy. "You're good, Mace. I know you're normal." She has the tray in her hands and then she's walking and talking on her way to the kitchen. "Does anyone want a drink? We've got lots!"

Everyone follows Orion to the kitchen, rattling off what they'd like to drink. She's cute when she's like this — taking care of people. Getting them drinks and making them feel comfortable and welcome. I love that she loves to take care of people.

More and more people show up, Orion welcoming everyone with a cheery greeting and getting drinks in their hands as quickly as she can. I try to say hello to as many people as I can, but there's no way I can match her energy and enthusiasm.

"Michael!" I hear her yell from by the door, but this isn't a happy one, she sounds annoyed. "We had one rule!"

I take a few steps so I can see the door from the living room and see Mike standing in the threshold, wearing a red flannel. Crystal, next to him, is wearing a black and white striped dress, so she followed the rules.

"This is my party! I can wear what I want!"

"This is not your party! This is my home!"

I chuckle, walking over to help Orion stand her ground, not that she needs my help. She's pretty intimidating when she's mad, although, right now, she's not actually mad. She's annoyed, but she's not mad.

"Oi, Mike, it's not your party,” I chime in, making him glare at me.

Michael laughs, a bit sarcastically. "It's literally a party to celebrate the tour for the band! I am in the band!"

Orion crosses her arms over her chest. "What exactly have you done to make this party happen, sir? Nothing. It's not your fucking party."

Crystal is trying her best not to laugh while Mike and O go at it, but I'm not even trying to hold it back. It's pretty funny to watch them go back and forth.

"It's a party for my band! Name one thing you've contributed to the band. Without the band, there is no party."

Orion scoffs. "How many of your songs has Cal written about me again? Didn't you just tell me a few weeks ago it was 'loads of songs'?"

Mike scoffs back, and Crystal finally cracks, letting out a few quiet chuckles, making him glare at her. "Fine. Whatever. I broke the rules. I'm sorry, O."

Orion grins with her victory. "Thank you." She steps aside to let them enter, and Mike rolls his eyes.

Crystal stops and whispers to O. "For the record, I did try to tell him not to wear the flannel."

The two of them giggle and hug, Orion leaving her arm around Crys and leading her to the kitchen, inevitably to force a drink of some kind into her hand. Once again, as I try to close the door, someone else appears, and this time it’s Emelia.

“Hey, sorry I’m kinda late. Uber was being weird.”

She gives me a haphazard one armed hug and rushes inside, her eyes widening when she notices the apartment full of people. “God, I always forget how many people you guys know.”

I laugh and actually close the door behind her. It’s true, between all of us and our significant others, we know a ton of people who’d like to celebrate the start of tour. “You know I’d have picked you up, right?”

Em rolls her eyes. She, similarly to Orion, doesn’t like asking for help. It’s no wonder they’re so close. “It’s fine. I need a drink,” she says, walking toward the kitchen, and I follow her. She looks back at me and smiles. “Hey, you’re wearing The Shirt™️!”

I grin, my own eyes flitting down to look at it. “It’s a special occasion, thought I’d break it out.”

Her mouth flattens into a line and something in her eyes shifts. “Yeah, it’s a special occasion.”

When we get to the kitchen, we find Orion in a conversation with Crystal, Sierra, and Macy. Orion notices her best friend and hops up and down before she hurries over to us. “Emi! Yay, you’re here. Come here!” She grabs Em’s hand and pulls her to the small group she’s formed. “This is Macy! We just met like… a week ago? Anyway, her parents live in the building and she’s super cool.”

I think Orion would describe anyone that she even remotely likes as “super cool.”

Em’s jaw opens a tiny bit. “Wait, someone lives here that isn’t a total dick?”

Macy laughs loudly at that. “Technically I’m just visiting my parents, and I can’t vouch for them being dicks or not.”

Orion swats the air. “If they raised you they can’t be dicks, you’re precious.”

I shake my head and laugh, stepping out of the circle, but not without stopping to give O a kiss on her cheek. I walk around, nodding to everyone and giving hugs to anyone I’ve not had a chance to yet. I don’t think there are that many more people coming, since I can’t seem to recall who’s missing. I find the rest of the band on the couch, everyone with a beer in hand, chatting with our friends Roy and Mitchy.

“There he is!” Ash yells when I sit down on the arm of the couch next to him. “Roy and Mitch can’t believe Orion’s not coming with us.”

I look at the two, who are looking at me already. “Yeah, I mean, she’s got school and stuff.”

Roy chuckles. “Couldn’t she do some of it online or something? Orion seems like an ideal tour girlfriend.”

I snort and so does Ash. “What does that even mean, mate?”

Roy seems to be at a loss for words, so Mitchy steps in. “You guys met on tour, right? And she’s so organized. She’d keep you in check and she’d help keep you grounded. Wouldn’t let your world tour get to your head.” He’s half joking, especially with the last half. He and I have already talked about this and he’s aware that I’d love to bring her, but it’s not just my choice here.

I roll my eyes. “She’s my girlfriend, not my manager. She’s got a life too. She knows I’d love to have her with us, but she wants to stay and do school, and that’s fine with me.”

“Ash?” KayKay appears behind Roy and Mitchy, looking quite stressed. “Can we go?” Her face is red through her makeup, and her eyes look kind of glossy. It’s like she’s trying not to cry.

Ashton immediately stands up and walks around, wrapping an arm around her. I follow, not trying to butt into their conversation, but more just trying to make sure everything is fine.

They whisper for a few moments before Ash notices me and he gives KayKay a quick hug, telling her he’ll meet her in the hall in a minute.

“Is everything okay?” I ask. He looks stressed out now, too.

“Yeah. Or, no, not really — her grandmother is just back in the hospital. She’s got dementia, and she’s not been doing well for a while. We’re gonna go. Her mum said it’s not looking great.”

I just nod. “Yeah, for sure, go. I’m sorry to hear that. Let us know if you need anything?”

Ash nods and gives me a hug. “Thanks, dude. Tell O we said bye?”

“Of course. See ya on Monday?”

He grimaces. “It depends how she’s doing. Kay’s really close with her grandma.”

“Got it. Well, we’re here for you guys. You know that, right?”

He smiles. “Yeah. Love ya, bud!”

“Love you too, man.”

Orion runs over after the door closes behind them, looking concerned. She’s holding a can of PBR now, her lipgloss imprinted around the rim. “Is everything okay?”

“Kay’s got some family stuff. I’ll tell you later.”

She frowns but nods. “Gotcha…”

I wrap an arm around her. “It’s fine, Ash is with her. I told him to let us know if they need anything.”

She nods. “Cool, I’ll text her later. Remind me?”

“‘Course.” I bend down and press a kiss onto her temple, knowing she doesn’t like to kiss in front of others very much, at least not this sober, even though it’s just our friends.

She then gasps, as if out of nowhere.

“What?” I ask, not sure what’s wrong with her now. She has moments like this throughout the day, every day. It’s usually because she forgot someone’s birthday or she didn’t move the laundry to the dryer before we left.

“I didn’t get a picture of you four together,” she pouts, jutting out her bottom lip.

“Baby, there are literally millions of photos of the four of us together.”

Orion rolls her eyes. “But I wanted one of you all tonight.” For some reason, she seems pretty upset over forgetting about it tonight.

“Hey, it’s okay. We can get one of the three of us still? Maybe we can get a balloon and draw a face on it and pretend it’s Ashton. I’m sure the resemblance will be uncanny.”

That makes her giggle loudly, a faint burp coming out after, making both of us laugh. It’s a sign that this is not her first beer. “Yeah, let’s do that. And, can we get one of us? Oh, and one of me and Em. Oh, and one of me and Sierra and Crystal!”

I roll my eyes. “We don’t need a full on photoshoot.”

I don’t mean it. Orion loves having photos of everything. She’s a super sentimental girl, loving to have everything documented somewhere. Her Instagram is private, so the photos never make it to the fans, which is what she wanted. She’s been very self-conscious during our whole relationship about making sure the fans don’t think she’s after fame or anything.

“You love my photoshoots,” she says, playfully hitting my chest. “C’mon, let’s do the balloon one before you guys are too wasted to take a normal photo.”

Orion wrangles the three of us out onto our balcony, the city lights twinkling behind us in the photos she takes. She then grabs Crystal and Sierra to take a picture with them, posing with her hands on her cheeks and smiling, then hugging the other two, and I do my best to just keep clicking the shutter the way she taught me two years ago when she asked me to take photos of her at the London Eye.

She dismisses everyone else but asks Crystal to take photos of us, and she says she’s happy to. I hand O’s phone to Crystal and take my place next to Orion, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her tightly against my side. She sets her hand on my ribs and leans her head against me, smiling sweetly at the camera while Crystal yells out “oh my god so cute” a bunch of times. I don’t even bother looking at the camera, just stare at my pretty girl, trying to memorize how her eyeshadow sparkles and her eyes gleam and her lips are chapped and her hair is slowly falling out of her braid. She’s perfect.

“Are you gonna look at the camera?” She giggles, looking up at me.

“Nope,” I answer, leaning down to kiss her. Crystal keeps saying how cute it is and I assume she keeps taking photos while Orion and I kiss for the camera.

I hear Luke shout from inside the apartment, “GROSS!”

When I look at the photos a few minutes later, I see that both of us gave Luke the middle finger when he yelled. I smile, immediately Airdropping the photos to myself and adding that one to my story.