#Calum hood reader insert

[alisonsfics]

roommates best friend

pairing: calum hood x reader

summary: having ashton irwin as your roommate had its perks: he was nice and would always help out around the apartment, sometimes he’d be gone for months while on tour, and he had a hot best friend

word count: 2.3k

warnings: swearing, some heated making out, minors DNI

You were scribbling down some notes in your planner when you heard a soft knock at your bedroom door. You glanced over your shoulder and saw Ashton, your roommate, in your doorway.

“Hey, Ash. What’s up?” You asked him. He crossed his arms, leaning against your doorframe. “I’m going out to run some errands. Do you need anything while I’m out?” He asked you.

You thought for a second and then shook your head. “I should be good, thanks for asking though.” You said, smiling. He nodded and then left your shared apartment.

You returned your attention back to what you were doing.

Ashton was a great roommate. He was nice and not too messy. He was on tour often, so sometimes you had the whole apartment to yourself. You liked it when he was home though because you both were pretty good friends.

About two hours later, there was a knock at the front door. You stood up from your desk and headed towards the door. You assumed Ashton had left his key at home, which he’d definitely done a few times before.

You quickly unlocked the door. “You forget your key again, Ash?” You asked, opening the door. The door revealed someone standing outside, but it wasn’t your roommate.

A tall brunette man was standing in front of you. You recognized him as Calum, one of Ashton’s band mates. You knew his face from some of Ashton’s posts on Instagram. You both had never actually met in person, though you both had heard stories about each other.

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were Ashton.” You said, feeling embarrassed. You’d always found Calum attractive, but he was your roommate’s friend. “No, that’s okay. Is Ashton not here? I didn’t mean to bother you. You’re Y/N, right? Ash’s roommate?” He asked you.

You nodded your head, giving him a soft smile. “Ash went out to run some errands. He’ll probably be back soon, if you want to come in and wait.” You offered, trying desperately to not embarrass yourself in front of him.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to get in your way. I can just come back when he gets home.” He said. Neither of you really knew how to act in this situation. You had never hung out before, and you both wanted to make a good first impression.

“No, it’s okay, I promise. You already drove all this way. You won’t be a bother at all.” You offered, stepping back and letting him walk inside. He gave you a soft smile and walked past you.

The smell of his cologne surrounded you as he walked by you. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. It wasn’t your fault that he made you weak in the knees.

“Do you mind if I go work on some stuff in my room? You can watch tv or whatever you want.” You asked him. He looked over his shoulder at you, with a look that made you feel like a schoolgirl. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll keep it down.” He told you, sweetly.

He was super nice, which wasn’t helping with your little crush. You retreated to your room and continued working on responding to your work emails.

You could hear Calum turn on the tv, and he made sure to turn it down, so he wouldn’t distract you. You went to take a sip of your water and noticed your cup was empty.

You weren’t ashamed to admit that you checked your appearance in the mirror before you walked out of your room. You fixed your hair and smoothed out your outfit.

You walked into the living room, and Calum’s eyes shot over to meet yours. He gave you yet another soft smile. It turned your insides into jelly.

You continued to walk past him into the kitchen. You caught your breath as soon as you were out of his view. You slowly filled up your cup up with water and screwed the lid back on.

As you walked out of the kitchen, you noticed Calum was watching one of your favorite shows. You stopped near where he was sitting. “You watch this show too?” You asked, looking over at him.

He quickly nodded his head. “Are you kidding? I love this show. You’re the first person I’ve ever met who actually knows anything about it.” He told you. Both of your eyes lit up as you found this common interest.

He patted the seat next to him, causing you to giggle. You happily joined him on the couch. You couldn’t help but feel your face heat up as his arm brushed against yours.

“Oh, this is such a good episode.” You said, recognizing it instantly. Calum agreed with you.

You both could already feel the chemistry between you two. You had always found Calum attractive when you had seen pictures of him, but there was something about being next to him that made him near-irresistible.

He smoothly moved him arm to rest along the back of the couch. You definitely noticed what he was doing, but you didn’t make any attempt to stop it. Calum smirked a little as you leaned in a little closer to him, but still weren’t touching.

You both stayed like that til the episode ended. Neither one of you had been brave enough to make a move yet.

Calum turned off the tv and turned towards you. “So, you’re the infamous Y/N that Ash is always telling me about.” He said, smirking at you.

“And you’re the infamous Calum,” you added. He chuckled and his smirk only grew.

“So, how have we never met until today?” He asked you, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear.

You both were playing a very delicate game of cat and mouse. You both knew exactly where this conversation was headed, but weren’t sure who was gonna make the final move.

“We actually almost met once.” You said, only remembering the story in that moment. He cocked his head to the side, curious as to how he could have forgotten almost meeting you.

You turned to face him more, and Calum rested his hand on your knee. “Ash invited me to one of your shows and told me I could come backstage after the show to meet you all. I went to the show, but had an emergency, so I had to leave early.” You told him.

“So, what’d you think of the show?” He asked you, still with that grin on his face. You paused for a second, making him wait for your answer.

You shifted closer to him. Your legs were almost pressed up against his. “I thought it was a really great show. I also thought the bassist was really hot.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

You could see Calum’s eyes grow wider. He was left speechless. “You gonna kiss me or not?” You teased him. This seemed to snap him out of his trance.

He grabbed your waist and leaned forward to connect your lips. You pulled yourself onto his lap as you kissed him. He ran his hands up and down your back. His touch felt electric on your skin.

His lips tasted like spearmint as they moved against yours. “You are so fuckin’ gorgeous.” He mumbled against your lips. You pulled away to catch your breath.

Calum had other plans. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, sucking on the soft skin. “Oh my god,” you mumbled as your eyes fluttered closed.

You rested your hands on his shoulders. Before he could kiss you again, you stood up and grabbed Calum’s hands. “C’mon,” you told him, tugging him towards your room. He smirked at your eagerness.

You pulled him inside your room and lightly kicked the door closed.

“C’mere,” Calum said, when you both were standing next to your bed. He ran his fingers down your arms, and then lifted your arms and wrapped them around his neck. “You look breathtaking.” He said.

He placed soft kisses on your jawline and all over your face, except on your lips. He let his hands slide down the curve of your back and continue until they stopped on the back of your thighs.

He effortlessly picked you up and laid you down on the bed. He crawled on top of you, and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

He leaned in to kiss you, but stopped millimeters from your lips. “Such a tease,” you mumbled, flipping him over. You were now straddling him, and he looked stunned. “That was so fucking hot” he mumbled.

You leaned forward and slipped your hands under his tight tshirt. You let your hands trace the outlines of his muscles. He loved the way that your hands felt on him.

“Take it off,” he encouraged you, as you balled part of his tshirt up in your hand. You smirked and slowly peeled the shirt off his large frame, pulling it over his head.

“So much better,” you said, leaning in to kiss him. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you as close to him as possible.

Then, you both heard the front door. “Shit,” you both mumbled at the same time. Both of you had been so caught up in the moment that you completed forgot about Ashton coming home.

“Does he know you’re here?” You asked Calum, to which he shook his head no.

“Hey, I’m home.” Ashton called out.

You quickly jumped off your bed. “You stay here and put this back on,” you said, handing him his shirt.

You slipped out your bedroom door, closing it behind you. “Hey, you’re back.” You said, smiling at Ashton. He was in the kitchen putting away some groceries he had bought.

“Can we maybe talk about something?” You asked him.

He turned around to face you. His face changed from one of concern to a smirk. “What?” You asked him, cluelessly.

“I know what this is about.” He boasted, still smirking at you. You furrowed your eyebrows. Did he really know about you and Calum? “What do you mean?” You asked him.

“I’m guessing it has something to do with the hickey on your neck.” He said, chuckling. Your eyes went wide as you quickly tried to cover your neck with your hand.

“So, thank you for giving me the roommate courtesy and letting me know about the guy in your room, but don’t worry about it. Calum and I are gonna hang out today, so I can just ask to hang out at his place and you can have the apartment all to yourself with your new friend.” Ashton told you.

You would have really appreciated how considerate he was being if the circumstances were different.

“No, you don’t understand, Ash.” You started to tell him, “you know the guy.”

It wasn’t out of the norm for you both to discuss your love lives. Ashton knew all about your ex-boyfriends, and you had had plenty of awkward conversations with some of Ashton’s flings who stayed the night.

“Is it Jonathon? He was such an ass to you. I can kick him out if you want, but don’t get involved with him again.” He asked you, referencing your semi-recent toxic ex-boyfriend. You quickly shook your head.

“Ash, it’s not him, I promise.” You told him, still having trouble actually telling him who it was.

“So then…” he said, trying to think of who it could be.

“Ash, it’s Calum.” You confessed. That was the last answer Ashton expected to hear. “Wait…you and Calum? When did you both, wait what?” Ashton asked, his shock was very clear to you.

“He came over to hang out with you, but you were out. We were watching tv and then we started talking and, I don’t know what happened.” You explained.

Ashton chuckled. “I know what happened,” he said smirking.

“Cal, you can come out.” Ashton called out. Calum walked out of your room with a slightly awkward expression. “Hey, man.” He said, softly.

“Y’know, me and the guys have actually been talking about ways to set you both up. I guess you both had that covered though,” Ashton said, chuckling.

You all paused, not knowing what to say next. Ashton was having a blast with how uncomfortable you both looked.

“Alright, this is sufficiently awkward enough. You both should go hang out, like you had planned.” You said, trying to find a way to end your embarrassment. They both nodded, agreeing with you.

“I’ll go wait in the car and give you both a sec,” Ashton said, winking at the two of you. Once he walked out the door, Calum turned to you.

“Sorry we got interrupted,” Calum said, kissing the inside of your palm. You gave him a soft smile. “That’s alright. Ash is going on a date tomorrow night if you want to bring me over to your place. You got any roommates?” You asked him.

He shook his head, “Nope, no roommates.”

“Perfect, then we should have the place all to ourselves.” You whispered, kissing him on the cheek.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you close to him. He leaned in so his lips were inches away from your ear. “I’m looking forward to it,” he whispered softly.

You felt goosebumps spread all over your body. He gave you a peck on the lips and headed for the door.

“Oh, wait. One more thing,” he said, walking back over to you and pushing you against the wall. You felt your stomach do a flip as he did it.

“Y’know how you said you only got to see part of the show last time?” He asked you. You nodded your head.

“We have a show in a few weeks. You should come, and then afterwards, maybe you could fuck that bassist in his dressing room?” He whispered in your ear.

“I would really like that,” you said, pressing your lips against his. He smiled at you and squeezed your hand and then left with Ashton.

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[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Sweet Dreams--Part 16

Calum and you have dance around reality for a few months now. But after Calum leaves and returns from a trip, the reality has to be confronted. 

Prince!Calum x Reader Insert. Tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible!

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The steps feel shorter and it’s probably because he’s gotten used to the stride he needs to carry himself up to the front door. The glass dish is tucked into his arms, the slight warmth radiating off the meatloaf is small comfort against the biting winds. It feels like it’ll be a deep and cold winter, a strange contrast to how the summer was much milder with its heat. The early autumn was slow to turn cold. However, ever since the banquet, it’s been a tough and sharp turn downwards. The nights are threatening to drop below freezing. The days are just warm enough to forget its precursor's harshness. Today in particular though, the winds have little sympathy. It’s a cold slap at his checks and undoubtedly, Calum’s turning a little pink across his face. 

You hiss from beside him, hand poised to knock on the front door but stopping short at the whipping wind. “I think my eyelashes are icicles now.”

“It’d feel more bearable if there was at least snow. This is just torture,” Calum agrees, turning his back towards the wind a little. The wind makes his eyes water just a hair. He’s hoping it’ll break the strength of the gust for you too. 

“Do you like snow?” you ask, knocking now against the wood. 

“God, no,” Calum laughs. “I don’t think I was ever built for the cold.”

“It’s pretty,” you counter. “Inconvenient to drive in sometimes.  Still, though, when the sun hits fresh snow, I start to believe that gods do exist.”

Calum hums, not fully in agreement, but in understanding. He’d take a hot day over a cold one in an instant. Yet there is a certain twinkle to a bright sun after fresh snow. It’s blinding if one’s not careful, but beautiful. But the winds, the nips at the tip of his nose are enough for Calum to only want to watch from the inside of somewhere warm. “So, you can handle the outdoor chores when it’s cold and I’ll take care of everything inside during the winter.”

“You hate laundry.”

“I hate snow and the cold more.”

“Willing to sign that in blood?” you tease, knowing that there’s already a basketful of laundry waiting for Calum at the palace. Calum knows it too. That is not something he’s willing to sign in blood. 

The front door opens and the blast of warmth is much appreciated. It’s Calum’s saving grace from a tortuous agreement that maybe he ought to get a head start on the weekly chore before it pressed in on him Sunday night. Melvin smiles at the two of you. “Glad you two could make it.”

“Thanks for the invite,” Calum returns, letting you enter ahead of him. The moment he steps through the door, Calum sighs at the warmth. Though he dislikes the bitterness of winter, Calum does hope for snow this Christmas. The last couple have been wet, but with no real snow. The only time snow does feel appropriate is at Christmas. 

“Don’t mind him. Apparently, he’s not built for the cold. Not even for a minute, it appears,” you direct towards Melvin. 

Melvin’s laughter is short, but he nods. “Noted. I can take something.” He moves between the two of you, arms waiting for either one of the dishes. You shuffle to let Calum unload his dish into Melvin’s waiting hands, slipping the cheesecake onto the steps. 

“Charlie and Teagan are currently washing their hands, but they should be barreling down soon,” Melvin calls out, moving already further into the house. 

The inside still looks the same as before. The wide entrance, the hall closet you’ve cracked up now, hands waiting to take Calum’s coat. This is all the same, but for a moment as he pulls the beanie off his head, Calum worries around a corner Diana will show up. Maybe she’ll come creeping out with a glass tight in her hands and it’s all anxiety, Calum knows. His hope was that she wouldn’t truly risk it all for the bottle. And he knows Melvin is the least likely to ambush you at all in this scenario. But her ghost still lingers. Her shoes are still inside the hall closet, her jackets hanging alongside the rest of them. Calum just wants this to work out for you. Whatever that looks like in the end. 

The descent is loud. Teagan leads the charge, one hand sliding down the railing as she works her way down. Calum manages to grab the cheesecake before sure fire death and winds his way in the similar direction Melvin went to keep it towards the kitchen. From behind him though, there’s laughter. “You came!” Charlie shouts. 

“I always will,” you answer. 

And you do--when it comes to them, you will always answer that call. Even if it’s the middle of the night. Once Teagan called, panicked from a nightmare, and the blare of your ringer roused both you and Calum. But you took it, eyes still crusted over with sleep, you answered when you saw the ID. 

“Oh, thanks. I was coming back for that,” Melvin laughs, approaching Calum. 

“The stampede descended and I figured best to spare it,” Calum comments in return and follows behind. 

“I guess we’ll keep it in the fridge for now,” Melvin mutters, cracking open the door. “Is that cookies n cream?” he questions upon taking the dish. 

Calum wishes he had a more articulate answer, but he wasn’t paying that close attention as you worked. “I think so. I was mostly on meatloaf duty so I’m not sure.”

“The kids will love it anyway.”

Close up now, Calum can see a few more grays in Melvin’s hair, a tiredness deep within his face that Calum is sure only worry can bring. “How are you holding up?” It feels like a silly question in the face of reality, but still, Calum has to ask. He has to when Melvin stands from the fridge and it’s so clear how much Melvin may not be doing as well as he attempts to put out there. 

“Oh, I’m fine.” It comes quickly but Melvin won’t meet Calum’s gaze.

“I’m not someone you have to hide from.” Calum’s not a single one of Melvin’s kids. He’s not a child himself either. Though Calum promised to leave Diana to you, he knows he can get through to Melvin. “And really you don’t have to hide from the oldest either.”

“Yeah, but that’s still my kid. They didn’t get much of a chance to just be a kid, so I’d like to not mess it up twice.”

“It looks like you got it right the second and third time.” Charlie and Teagan are happy. Even if they have their own hardships, even if Diana makes her own mistakes, they’re still happy kids overall. They’re still kids who know what it means to have both parents be involved. “Maybe you ought to consider this your fourth shot, and not just your second.”

Melvin shrugs. “Maybe. I think I’m getting closer, I guess.” His eyes finally drift from the foyer to Calum and they both know what Melvin’s asking. It’s a desperate cry for confirmation, for some kind of insight as to how you feel about Melvin. Things look better. Calum was sure that you’d never actually get this far to come over for dinner, to sit down and stay longer than it takes to pick Charlie and Teagan up or to drop them off. But you accepted Melvin’s invitation. And you showed up. There is something of an answer in your actions thus far. But the only person that can really answer that question is you. Not Calum. 

Calum is careful as he starts his response. “They’re here, which is a start. I think we both can agree on that. But from where I stand, I think you could ask for more help if you needed it from them.” Calum won’t assume what Melvin needs. He can’t do such a thing lest he put his own dignity on the line. But it’s clear that it is hard for Melvin. 

“It is a start,” Melvin sighs. Clearly not the answer he wanted, but it’s the only one that Calum can give. “Do you want something to drink? I’ve got water, Sprite. Beer too. I’d offer the apple juice too, but something about that feels a little too trivial,” Melvin tacks on with a soft tuft of laughter. 

Calum wants to apologize, probably having stepped on too many toes and crossing too many lines. Maybe it’s really not his place to confront Melvin as much as he had. He just wanted to help. “I’m so-” 

Melvin shakes his head, interrupting the apology before it can melt off Calum’s tongue. “So, what’s your poison?”

“Apple juice is the superior breakfast juice. But water's fine.” This whole conversation was supposed to be a much more fine tune dance. He was supposed to just be polite. He was supposed to just bring the cheesecake into the kitchen.

“You sound like Teagan.” Melvin turns back to the fridge and pulls out the filtered container of water. 

“She’s a smart girl, so I’m lucky to be in company with her.”

“She is.” It leaves Melvin softly, a smile on his face as he hands over the glass. “Uh, I heard your speech a few weeks back, before the vote on governmental funding expansion for the social safety nets we have and a one-time stimulus.”

A speech Calum remembers, as it still occasionally crops up on his social media feeds. Significantly less now than it did after it originally aired, but perhaps, it’s naive to have hoped Melvin hadn’t seen it. But Calum nods along, knowing it has to be going somewhere. He bites back the apology as it singes the tip of his tongue. 

“I have a neighbor who’s elderly. You wouldn’t be able to tell it, but Mrs. Davis used to watch them before they got sent away. Anyway, Mrs. Davis has grandkids now Charlie and Teagan’s age, which is a little scary to admit. She used to say that we never really learn a lesson until we think we’ve lost something important. When I heard your speech, it made me wonder what you thought you might’ve lost, right? Like if you were being so articulate about how much you’ve been blinded by your own privilege then you must’ve lost the thing that was blinding you. Metaphorically of course. You, uh, haven’t actually lost your privilege, but you could say you’ve lost the privilege to be blind to the economic disparities, right?”

“Right,” Calum agrees. At least a little. He’s not suddenly and totally unshackled from his own biases. But he can still be a little bit clearer now. But he gets the sentiment that Melvin’s conveying. 

“I learned my lesson when I lost contact with my kid. So I can see better with Charlie and Teagan. But it makes me want to make sure I don’t lose it again. I’m not exactly fond of learning that lesson twice.”

Calum can’t say he can imagine what it’s like to be in Melvin’s shoes. It feels farfetched, like no one could conjure up such an existence that a child gets abandoned in the process. But it’s true. It’s all real. It’s why Diana’s missing from this very kitchen. It’s why Calum’s here and why you’re here. The reality has bubbled up all its consequences to such actions. “I can respect that. I just imagine it’s not easy.”

“It’s not. Nothing about this was ever going to be easy. Another lesson I’ve learned.”

“I’d hate to know what it cost.”

“Calum!”

He turns to the call of his name and spots Teagan bouncing through the dining area. “Hi, Teagan.”

“You do realize you cannot escape.” She says it with a smile, arms open, but there’s a gleam. 

Calum’s sure he sees it. But he gives into the invite and gives Teagan a brief hug. “I didn’t realize I had anything to fear,” he laughs. 

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“My mum and dad say hi.”

Her eyes widened, jaw dropping just a bit. The devious smirk is replaced by pure shock. “The--The King and Queen told you to tell me hi?”

“Believe it or not, yes. I told them not to.”

“Oh, rude!” Teagan huffs, but her smile is bright. “Please tell them I said hi too.”

“I will.”

Her attention turns to Melvin and Calum returns to his full height as Teagan speaks, “Did you get a chance to inspect my table setting, Dad? I still get mixed up on the forks and spoons.”

“It’s all good, kiddo,” Melvin returns. “You got it this time.”

“Excellent. C’mon, I’ve got seating arrangements too.” Teagan doesn’t hesitate to take Calum’s hand and he goes willingly. 

“You’ve arranged where we’re seated?” Calum questions. It shouldn’t shock him. Teagan’s much the type.

“Yes. I used my free art time on it. You’ll sit here,” she points. The table seats six people in total, the rectangular shape perfectly suited for the size. One person at each of the short ends paired with two people on the long sides. Teagan is clear in her selection to put Calum and you together on the same side. She’ll sit opposite you, Charlie opposite Calum. Melvin’s poised at the head of the table, at the short end of the table that faces the direction of the front door and the short end that faces the kitchen will remain empty. Calum wants to ask briefly if that’s where Diana sits, but swallows his tongue. He’s already made a fool of himself once already. 

“You’ve thought this out thoroughly, I see,” Calum concludes when Teagan’s done with her presentation.

“It’s a special occasion.” She says it finitely, as if it should be obvious. And perhaps, it’s easy to forget in the mix of things just how significant this moment is. How much it means to Teagan, and Charlie, and Melvin too. 

“So we’re doing it, huh?” your voice carries before you round the corner. Charlie in front with a baseball glove in hand. “A proper season?”

Charlie nods. “Yes, yes I am.”

“Well, when you get your game schedule let me know, alright.”

He pauses, hands poised like he intended to toss the glove up but it never releases from his fingers. His turn to you is slow and if not for the fact that you’d been paying close enough, you might’ve run into him during his abrupt pause. “You mean that? That you’ll come to my games?”

“I’ll come to as many as I can.”

“Thanks.” He gives his gratitude softly. 

Calum hadn’t caught wind of Charlie’s involvement growing with the sport. But he’s glad to see him pursuing his interest. Perhaps, you hadn’t learned about it yet either. Either way, Calum’s making a mental note to see if he could also get that schedule too. “I need a hand in here, Charlie boy. Care to spare one?” Melvin calls out from the kitchen. 

“Coming!” Charlie takes a moment though, pausing next to Calum. “Do you think you could come too? To a game, I mean?” It’s an eager question, one that makes him bounce on the balls of his feet. 

“Yeah, yeah I can.”

“Sweet.” Charlie carries on into the kitchen, placing the glove down into his seat as he goes. 

It’s awkward at first. A sentence or two to the questions poised, only interrupted by the click of forks on plates and expectations. Caulm can feel it. The way your hands keep hovering over our utensils, like you think you should know better on how to interact but still keep falling short. There are few saving graces, when Charlie or Teagan interject with something quippy but it’s still a dance where no one really knows the timing of--no one knows if it’s  three count or a four count. 

“How’d the banquet go?” Charlie asks. “Dad says your painting did really well.”

“It ended well. Started pretty bad. I was so nervous,” you laugh. 

“You? Nervous?” Teagan returns. “I don’t buy it.”

“I love the vote of confidence, but yes, I am very nervous. Joy had to calm me down.” 

“I, uh, I saw the pictures,” Melvin starts. “Online, I mean. It looks really great.”

The moment hangs; Calum nearly watches it drip into your plate. You're slow to face Melvin but when you do, you nod. “Th-thanks.”

“When-when did you get into art?”

It’s like watching two nervous dogs, Calum realizes. As you and Melvin interact, it’s easy to see how much neither one of you wants to move too suddenly. Neither one of you wants to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing. It’s two people who desperately want to get it right, even if there’s no way to mess it up.

“A few years ago. After I left culinary school. Started it as a hobby.”

“A hobby,” Melvin repeats. Calum’s not sure if it’s disbelief or wonder. But Melvin smiles after a moment. “Do you want it to stay just a hobby?”

“I-I’m not sure. I think it would be nice to pursue it. So many people asked me if I could do commissioned work. I don’t want to tell them no. I just don’t want to take on more than I can chew right now.”

“Understandable really. But do you want to take them? The commissions? It can always just be a hobby.”

“A couple, yes. Maybe not all.”

Melvin gives a nod in return. “Sounds like a good place to start with just a couple.” 

Dinner winds down slowly. The conversation isn’t as stilted as it was before, as topics move from day-to-day life onwards to the approaching holiday. Teagan and Charlie are excited themselves for the two week break from school. When Charlie and Teagan are sure that they’ve eaten a significant portion of their vegetables, Melvin divvies out slices of the cheesecake to them. “Bring your plates into the kitchen when you’re done, please,” Melvin notes as he approaches with the plates. 

“Consider it done, Dad,” Charlie returns. “Thanks.” 

The sink rushes from the kitchen, most of the plates have been cleared and stacked. Calum’s collecting the last bit of the serving plates and behind him, you’re stationed at the sink. Though Melvin assured he could do it himself, the two of you moved silently to help. 

“Oh, that’s so good.” 

Calum turns to see Teagan going back in for another forkful and laughs at her hurried work. “Well, I promise it’s not going to run off the plate,” he returns. 

“Says you. But if I tasted this good, I might try to hide.”

“Well, maybe,” Calum agrees with a laugh and continues on to the kitchen. Melvin takes the remaining pasta and places it into a smaller tupperware.  The work is mostly quiet, aside from the rush of the sink as you rinse dishes, until your voice floats up. 

“Have you heard anything about Diana?” you pose the question to Melvin right as he takes a plate to dry it off. 

“I have,” he answers. “Last week, the kids and I talked to her.”

“Is she doing okay?”

“Ye-yeah, she is. Even her doctors agree too.”

You snort at the remark. Perhaps, there’s a joke there. But even Calum would hazard a guess that she might be prone to making things look better for herself and thus requires confirmation with the experts. “That’s good.”

“We’re planning a visit for Charlie’s birthday,” Melvin offers. “If you feel comfortable, she has asked to speak with you.”

Calum can only watch. But he can see it--the turn of your wheels in your brain, the closing and opening of your mouth to no actual sound. Maybe you hadn’t thought about this far, how much you were integral to this whole situation with Diana.  Eventually the reconciliation, or at the very least a confrontation, would come. It would have to happen. The things Diana mentioned in her ambush would have to be addressed. But perhaps, there is a part of you that hoped it wouldn’t come. Calum can’t fault it necessarily. It’s obvious as you stare deeper into the beyond that the realization hadn't caught up to you. 

“You don’t have to answer right now,” Melvin offers. “Just let me know at least a week before his birthday. You’ve got time.”

“Thanks. Will do.” It falls silent again, only interrupted by the giggles from Charlie and Teagan and the rushing of the sink. 

“Do you think I should?” you ask. The highway is opening around the two of you. Calum takes a brief second to look at you. You’re staring straight ahead in the passenger seat. There’s a bit of bewilderment on your face that’s been there since Melvin asked if you’d join in on the visit to Diana. 

Calum turns back to the road, the cars in front of him still a safe distance ahead. He has his theories, and has been categorizing them since the question was brought up earlier in the evening. But Calum had to be careful. He had to wait until you asked and even now, he has to tread lightly. He thinks he would. Yet, he’s not you and you’re not him. “Do you want all of my theories? I don’t exactly have access to a good bar chart, but if you’re sure about me sharing, I’d be happy to.”

Your snort echoes. The radio’s been turned down, the hum of the heat through the vents in the car is keeping you both warm.  The drive isn’t long by any means though there’s decent evening traffic that causes some congestion. “Yeah, I’ll excuse any errors in the data report. Let's just say we set a margin of error to about plus or minus five percent.”

“God, I love it when you talk statistical analysis to me.” He would’ve been sure that all discussion regarding politics would’ve gotten boring by now. Yet, when the occasions have arisen, you’ve been more than happy to lend an ear. 

“Keep it in your pants, please. I do need genuine help.”

“Of course, of course.” He pauses. It’s easy to say that it’ll be inevitable. Because ultimately, you will need to talk to her. But it doesn’t mean the actual act would be easy. “Let’s look at the big picture. You’re going to need to talk to her eventually, right. She made some accusations, clearly has some needs that she’d like met. I’m not saying you have to meet them of course. But like, a more civil conversation will need to be had. Does that sound fair?”

“It does.” It comes slowly. Like you’re trying to see if you actually want to agree with the sentiment or not. “I mean, yes, I do think ultimately I’ll need to talk to her.”

“I don’t-I don’t want to insinuate that you have to understand her perspective. But maybe inherently I am. I don’t know.” It feels like it can be more nuanced than that. You can hear her side and still make a determination that it’s not worth pursuing. But maybe it does inherently mean that it could be opening the same wound for Diana and for you. 

“We’ll call it the margin of error. I think my fear is that if I invite too much from her, she’s going to take it the wrong way. I can understand that she was hurting. That she wanted to complete her family. But I’m so scared it’s going to be because it’s for her and not some genuine interest in me.”

“Can I play devil’s advocate?”

“And tell me that it’s always going to inherently have a selfish motive even if she does have a genuine care about me?”

Calum nods. “That would be it.”

“Can I make an assumption?” you ask. 

“Absolutely,” Calum returns. 

“If it were you, you’d go.”

He nods. “I think if it were me, I would go. But I also know I’m speaking from a context that’s much different than your lived context, so, it’s always going to be a little off.”

“I don’t disagree that it’s inevitable. I guess I just didn’t think it would be on the horizon so fast. Thought I’d have more time.”

It’s a sentiment Calum relates to deeply. There’s still the voice in the back of his head that tells him he’s not ready to take over as King. There’s still the fear, a hope to have a little bit more time until he’s ready.  “Perhaps, that’s one of life’s biggest lessons. We don’t always have the time we think we do.”

“But we’ll always wish we did,” you return. 

“Yeah,” Calum agrees, bringing one hand to your inner thigh. It doesn’t feel defeated as you say it, just factual. “Maybe we will.”

_______________________________

It’s a leap. You know it the moment the thought crosses your mind as you’re working on the signature mule behind the bar. The printer spits out yet another drink ticket, an electric buzzing in opposition to the scrape of the metal scooper against the ice. Christmas’ never been unified for you; a cacophony of tastefully avoiding some but not all of the Christmas invites and the choking sobs of your own tears. Christmas isn’t a time that you’ve historically felt like celebrating. You’d spend it at the shelter, or volunteering somewhere else if necessary, or taking the shift that no one really wanted. Christmas was always an excuse for you. 

But now you wonder if it needs to be. Having to navigate Christmas with Calum and his family and also Christmas with your family feels more challenging than you’d originally estimated it to be. You’d figured you could spend Christmas morning with Charlie and Teagan and then spend the evening with Calum. There’d be little fuss in getting the day off considering the restaurant is closed. You’d have no plans in the way. Yet, you still wonder if you need to keep the ordeal separate in the first place. 

Calum’s yet to broach the topic though you do hear the way David and Joy speak about putting their own Christmas tree up in the library of the residential hall. You catch the conversations about what to get for Calum, and you’ve even prodded for a suggestion too. But there’s hope that lingers in the way the three of them watch you. And maybe you can save yourself time and ask to bring Melvin and your siblings into the fold of their Christmas festivities for a singular shared experience. It could be nice to find some more middle ground with Melvin before Diana’s return too. He’s gentler of the two. Perhaps, in another life, you’d wind up under his wing. Perhaps, you could’ve called on him when the nightmares choked you awake. Perhaps, you could’ve phoned him with your tire blew on that dark road at twenty. And perhaps, you can have something with him now--even if it’s clumsy and awkward. 

“Drinks for table 14,” you call out, setting the mule onto the tray. The server, a newer girl, scurries over to get it with a slightly panicked thanks falling from her lips. 

Christmas is two and a half weeks away. The crowds are thickening day to day. More and more families come in. More friends catching up pack the booths. While the bar is no kitchen--which is sorely missed at times--watching life surrounding you is a new kind of excitement. 

“Oh my god, you’re the prince’s partner, right?”

You turn to the voice, noticing a trio of girls at the corner of the bar. They look young, one of them grinning with braces in her mouth. You think you spot a logo in the upper corner of their tan polos for a local high school, but you can’t get a good look at it with their thick winter coats. It’s a question that’s popped up for you a lot recently if patrons came up directly to the bar. You’re good about sidestepping it. Usually, patrons are good at picking up that you won’t answer. There’s been little fear in these interactions individually, but sometimes they do feel like they can be adding up. Like the more people spot you, the more they’ll talk to others. But it’s not happening with such frequency that you think there is danger. At times, you wonder if the transition from kitchen to bar happening simultaneously as the charity banquet is divine timing to push you from this life of kitchens and into something different. Maybe the charity ball was the kindling and maybe the recognition would be the match. 

“Tell me what sodas can I get started for you, ladies,” you return with a smile instead. 

“Oh, c’mon,” she urges. “We heard he’s been in here. Saw pictures in the magazine too.”

You shrug. “Well, it sounds like you’ve got all the confirmation you need.” The printer spits out more tickets. You turn to it and pluck the four that have come through. “You three take your time contemplating and I’ll be back in a minute, alright?”

As you step away, you hear one of the girls speak up--you don’t see which one of them it is--, “I told you they wouldn’t answer. Like it could totally be dangerous if they did.”

“We’re not going to mob them, Sara. Oh my god.” The girls don’t move either. You flitter around the bar, pulling glasses down for draft beers, scoping ice for more drinks. They watch as you work and you set each drink up, ready to be claimed by each server. 

When all the alcohol is collected, you turn back to the trio. “Ready to order?”

“So, I’m guessing your answer is no comment,” the initial girl counters. “I swear we’re not, like, creeps or anything.”

The girls look maybe fifteen, sixteen at most. You don’t think they’re a threat, but you know the danger of what it means if you confirm the truth. People already know. There’s enough photographic evidence that exists. Yet, you know you can’t confirm it. You know you won’t be confirming it. “I can offer a free soda, if you’re interested. It’s the best I can do.”

The tallest girl--with the braces-- pulls at the elbow of the original girl. “Amber, c’mon. They’re literally at work. I can’t believe you convinced us to even come up here. My parents will kill me if I’m not home in the next, like, hour before my mom has to leave for work.” 

“Relax, Justine. You and Sara are both high strung, god,” Amber huffs and then pushes off towards the door. “The next bus is, like, fifteen minutes away anyways.” Her winter coat swishes as she goes. 

“We’re really sorry about her.” You think it’s Sara who offers the apology. She’s the same height as Amber, but with a lighter blonde hue of hair. 

Justine, the taller girl with the braces, nods. “Yeah, we’re really sorry. We saw it in some magazines that you worked here. We really were going to, like, look inside and then leave. But Amber took it too far.”

“I appreciate the apology.” Maybe if you were sixteen you’d risk the chance to get as close as one could to the royal family, even if it’s only a peek into a restaurant. Maybe you wouldn’t. But still you appreciate the guts it takes to apologize. 

“And well, we’re sorry for coming in here too and like invading your space at work too,” Sara tacks on. Her gaze falls into the worn wood of the bar counter. “Out loud it sounds a lot more creepy than it did in our heads.”

You nod again. They’re just kids. “Again, I appreciate the apology. I know it’s probably not easy to apologize. But it does mean a lot. The drinks still stand though.”

Both Justine and Sara look up at you. Their brows pulled in and you know it’s most likely confusion. “You’re…you’re not mad?” Justine asks. 

“I don’t think mad is the right word. It is a little…scary, I guess. But you three are just kids, really.” You’ve got more grace for them at this point than you’d probably have for others. Being young isn’t an excuse but it’s context. It helps you understand the rationale a bit better. 

“Oh god, we’re really sorry. We didn’t mean to scare you,” Sara states. “Honest, we didn’t.”

“I believe you. No harm this time, no foul. But here,” you offer, hearing the hiss of more drink tickets behind you. “I’ll give you three waters for the time being. I don’t want anyone missing the bus or anything to get back home and we can call it good there.”

Justine and Sara nod at the offer. You grab three of the to-go cups from the stack and line them up on the bar after filling them with ice. It’s rather quick work to fill them up with water from the hose and to slip a lid securely to the top of each one. You pull out three wrapped straws and move the drinks closer to their side of the bar. 

“Here, nice and iced for a cold winter,” you laugh.

“Thank-thank you. This is really nice of you. I hope the rest of your day is good,” Justine offers, grabbing two of the three cups. 

“I hope you three are staying warm. If you need to hang out inside for a few more minutes, feel free. If anyone asks, just tell them I said you could. But I gotta head back to work.”

The two girls nod at you and you wait for a beat. Maybe you’re waiting for them to say something more. Maybe you’re waiting for yourself to say something more. But nothing comes but more drink tickets. They are indeed just kids in the grand scheme of everything. They’d made a mistake. You can only hope they’ve learned not to do it again.  So, you push off the bar and back to the task at hand. You’re only two drinks behind, a saving grace that you know won’t be afforded for you too much longer. 

As the evening settles more and more people pop into the restaurant. It helps keep the day from feeling stagnant, but there are moments where you’re shocked how far you’ve gotten into the night without any complaints about a drink as your brain sort of goes into autopilot as you work on each drink. Justine and Sara are long gone by the time you look back towards the corner of the bar. You hope for them they can reconcile with Amber. It’s a kind of blind enthusiasm that may be hiding the kind of charitable person Amber is and you don’t want to wish her ill. 

“Everything okay over here?” Turner asks. “Saw those three girls earlier.”

You look over your shoulder briefly to nod. You don’t want too much of a head on this beer that you’re pouring. “Yeah, it’s all good. Just looking for directions. I gave them some water. They got off at the wrong stop.” It shouldn’t be so easy to lie. But you know if you tell Turner the truth, she will immediately offer to put you back into the kitchen. However, the bar would be understaffed and you know that the newest bartender still isn’t ready to take over by himself yet. 

“Sure it was just that?”

“How much did you hear?” you ask in return, turning to face her now that the pour is done. Turner reminds you of Janice in some ways. Ever present, always knowing. Where Janice was a bit more panicked, Turner is a bit more level headed. Yet both women care deeply and manage their kitchens like a tight ship. 

“Enough,” Turner returns. 

“I’ll say directions until my dying breath.”

Her smile is swift across her face. “I know you will. I will too. Just let me know if we need to make a swap about this, okay? I appreciate you being willing to come to the front of the house to accommodate our needs during this busy season. But I know given your relationship status it might cause some strain with such a public facing position and I don’t want you to feel unsafe here.”

“I’ll let you know, Turner. I promise.”

“Good. Because I do hold people accountable to those. Also, the new schedule is up for next week and a half. I’m hoping the extra few days helps cut down on last minute swaps.”

“Sounds good.”

It’s a steady stream of drink tickets by the end of your shift. Over the shrill of Christmas bells and the drone of voices combining into a singular hum, you still listen for the hiss and drone of the printer that tells you when you’re being called until close. In rare form too after you settle into your car, the parking lot dark but cut through the street lamps, you know you’re not going straight to the castle tonight. Not that you have much excuse not to, your laundry is done, all your art supplies are in the shed. There’s a hum in the castle that becomes white noise once you’ve gotten accustomed to it. You can always sort of hear someone walking about. You can always feel that there’s others milling about you even if there’s no sound. 

But you carry yourself back to your apartment. Your pulse is a steady thrum in your legs, but they carry you home. Your car radio is still programmed to the old school rock station. They’re playing remixes of Christmas classics to bass and electric guitars. In the few years you’ve had the car, you’re used to this. It feels like it’s closer to earning the title of being yours. Nothing has felt like it’s had a permanency with you. But maybe now it can. Maybe now there are things worth latching onto, maybe you don’t have to keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe you can change the radio station if you want and maybe you don’t have to, if you like the station. 

“Yeah, yeah, I made it home.” The keys rattle in your grasp as you pause at the front door of your apartment. The wind is a little harsh against your body. Your coat helps cut the wind but it’s still harsh against your cheeks.

“I can still hear the wind,” Calum laughs. “Hurry up, get inside. I can wait.”

“You called me, remember?” Not that you mind Calum calling just to hear your voice. It’s just a little ironic. You felt yourself needing a small moment of peace, a space to reflect over what you’d been thinking about. But you don’t mind Calum’s interruption. Part of you is always relieved to hear his voice. 

“I know I did. Just wanted to make sure you got home safe is all.”

The heat greets you immediately. The kitchen light is off, though you think the stove light is still on. You hadn’t noticed Josie’s car or your other roommate. But it is still early for a Friday night. 

“I’m inside now. I desperately need a shower.”

“I can take a hint. Call me back whenever you're settled. But before I let you go, tell me did you eat?”

“Yes, love, I ate on my breaks.”

“Good, good. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you whisper in return. It tastes right. You know you mean it. But you know the weight they carry. You know what it means in the larger context--the longer this goes on, the more it means, the more you’re committing to him. It always reminds you how much you’d been prepared to accept the fleeting nature of the ordeal--how you’d been ready to be temporary. Yet none of this has evolved into anything that’s temporary. 

The water of the shower is warm too and you’re happy to let it wash over your muscles. Even though you’re used to being on your feet by now, there’s always a bit of relief when the first drop of the hot water hits. The water hitting the tile echoes. You wish you could follow one droplet all the way down, but they are cascading down in a rush. You’re only left with the aftermath, the water dancing at your feet and before it falls into the drains. You expected your life to be temporary like the rushing water, used and then recycled. 

But you’re glad you’re not temporary. 

That kind of existence feels so far away now. Why would you want to leave with that kind of distance? What would’ve it garnered you? Sure it was safe, but life doesn’t happen within safety limits. Life happens in the fear. Like how Diana can get more help, because she operated in fear. Like you’re looking at making moves to pursue art more seriously because you accepted Calum’s invitation even though you were scared. 

You step out of the shower, towel wrapped around your body. Your phone chimes from your bed and you follow the sound. You notice a notification from your email. Re: Still Able to Help with Website? As you open the notification, you notice it’s a real response from Lilith. When you first reached out, you’d gotten the auto reply. 

Good to hear from you again. So sorry it’s taken this long for me to respond to your original email. I sincerely appreciate your patience. 

I am more than happy to help you get your website up and running. Below I’m going to send a link for you to sign up for a video call with me. There’s a lot more flexibility after the holidays. Feel free to take those. In the meantime, between now and our conversation, I’m going to include a list of things I highly recommend you have worked out around the time of your first meeting.

You skim through the bulleted list, mostly focused on figuring out the best way to accept commissions, working with people to find a good start pricing range, how many commissions you can take on in a year, and a few other things about style, color scheme and other logistics related to the site. It’s all good information to have, so you bookmark the email and log it on your agenda for tomorrow--your day off. 

In the silence of your room, as you change into your pajamas, you miss the radio of when you used to help Ms. Shirley in the homeless shelter. Though the old radio was only static free when music played, and was horrible as the announcers spoke, you miss the way it crackled to life. You miss her humming. 

“That was a pretty fast shower,” Calum answers. 

Your ceiling stares back down at you as you stare back up at it from the bedroom floor. “Wasn’t a day I had to wash my hair,” you return with a laugh. “How was your day?”

“Honestly, boring. I met up with the boys for lunch which was great. It’s too early for me to review data from the form, though I did take a peak at it.”

“Is that going well? Getting good responses?”

“Sort of. I think it’s slowed down because of the holidays. I still review the data myself just to see what’s going on and we may not make a formal response until after the new year. How was your day?”

You exhale deeply. If you tell him, he’ll freak. It’s in his nature to worry, especially when it comes to you. Those three girls were pretty harmless in the grand scheme of things. There’s not enough of a threat. “It was pretty normal until these three girls came in. High schoolers. Asked if I was dating you, ended well. But it got me thinking.”

“Okay, first thing first, how often is this happening? You’ve mentioned it only a couple times to me. But I’m getting a bad feeling about you moving to the bar.”

“The tips are good. It’s not every shift, so it’s not bad.” You want to defuse. You knew it. You knew that Calum would be worried. But there’s no good in hiding it. 

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” you reply with no hesitation. But divert-you need to divert. “Lilith replied to me finally too. And I don’t know. I think it’s maybe worth staying where I’m at until I can get the art stuff up and running consistently.”

“So, you’re seriously thinking about making art your next career move?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Calum hums in return. It sounds impressed but mostly non-committal. “Let me know if I can help with that. But, it sounded like you might be getting to something else before I got us sidetracked.”

“Oh, just say it!” you laugh. 

“No, no, just a few weeks ago you were pretty sold on being in the kitchen. So I’ve got nothing else to say.” His voice is high and you can hear the smile as he speaks through the speaker of the phone. 

“Look, that was before I realized that a bunch of rich people would pay me for it, okay? Consider it a change of heart. A really big change of heart.”

Your laughters combine and it’s true. Art didn’t seem so viable until you saw how intense the bidding war got. Art didn’t seem so viable until you had four pocketfuls of business cards. Art didn’t seem so viable until Calum, if you’re honest. 

“Okay, fair, fair,” he concedes. 

“I think given how much my life has changed in the last few months, I’m realizing that I’ve got to make changes too. I think I’m ready for a change of pace, to start making things happen for myself instead of just existing. I’m ready to see what else life has in store for us.”

The last part leaves your throat shaky. You don’t know how Calum is going to respond. You hope well. Your eyes are shut and you’re holding your breath. But you’re praying that it goes over well. 

“Us,” Calum repeats. “I’m ready to see what it has in store for us too.”

“You know how you said your parents could see almost immediately how happy you were when we first started dating, right?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

You inhale, eyelids peeling back to unveil the popcorn ceiling above you yet again. “I don’t have too many people that can tell me that they see a change. I keep very few people close, but I think I can feel it--the change. That I’m happier.”

“I-I can see it.”

Of course Calum can. He’s one of the ones you keep close. He’s the reason all these changes are happening and feel like they are deserved. “Thank you. Your check’s in the mail,” you tease. 

Calum snorts. “Smartass. But my smartass, so I guess it’s really my fault.”

It’s a silly jab, but it’s nice to hear that he’s choosing you over and over again. And it’s a nice feeling to be able to choose him over and over again too. 

“Maybe just a little. Can I ask a question?” Your bones are pressed against the floor. You can feel yourself melting into the cracks beneath the carpet. It’s a nice way to feel weightless as you continue to lay on the floor. 

“Yeah, of course, baby.”

“What are you and your parents doing for Christmas?”

“I mean, we’ll be in town. They already did the Christmas tree lighting ceremony, so there’s no other obligations. I may have also made the assumption that you’d still be in town, and that we’d hang out too. But please tell me now if I shouldn’t have.”

“No, no, it’s--it’s not that. I just--I’ve been thinking, would it be okay if Charlie, Teagan, and Melvin tagged along for a sort of combined festivity?”

“Yeah, baby, that’s okay.” There’s a hint of excitement in his voice, something that tells you how much it means to hear the words. “Do you want to meet at the palace or at their place?”

“It might be easier at their place? I’m thinking security wise at the very least. I still need to confirm with Melvin that it’s okay, but just wanted to test the waters.”

“We can do that. Just let me know the time and I’ll rally my parents,” Calum returns softly. 

“I’ll let you know.” A silence settles. Not awkward nor thick, just a comforting sound of echoed exhales. The floor is still holding your bones, though you know soon you’ll be turning into liquid as the day catches up on you. The weight compressing out of your spine causes your eyes to flutter close. Your exhale deepens. You catch faintly the rustle over the phone. It might be him talking, it may just be his own breathing, when it washes over you. It’s not quite floating, but it’s as close to it as one can get. You embrace the feeling of exhaling, letting the day seep into the floor. The front door to the apartment creaks open. It’s loud enough to make you hold your breath until you catch the sound of keys. A few seconds lapse and then the stairs creak as whomever it is carries themselves up. 

I miss that old radio. This would be a perfect time to have it playing. 

“What old radio?”

The sound of Calum’s voice makes you open your eyes. The popcorn ceiling looks back down at you. Had you really said that thought aloud? “You heard that?”

“Well, you did say it out loud. But what old radio?”

“Ms. Shirley’s old radio. The one that has the antenna.” The words are falling from you with gaps between them. You know you want to articulate more, that you should be articulating more. 

“What makes you miss it?”

“Guess it sort of reminds me of the same feeling when I’m with you. I feel at home. Content.”

“Well, I hope you never lose that feeling again.” 

You’re not sure how you’re not going to lose a feeling again. They’re already such fleeting things. They come, they go--as intended. Rarely are such emotions latched onto so permanently. But you like the idea of something never being lost forever. You like the idea that perhaps any emotion can have a space, one for it to return to that you curate for it. “We hope,” you return finally to his comment. It’s weak to your ears as you speak too. 

“You sound like you’re falling asleep.”

You shrug. “I might be.”

Calum’s tuft of laughter is soft. “Are you in bed at least?”

You crack open an eye and look up at your bed. You can always lie. The bed’s much too far for you currently. You know you should get into the sheets. “I’m adjacent.”

“Get into bed please, baby. I promise to stay on the line until you’re snoring.”

“I do not snore!” you retort, pushing yourself over to your side and then up to your knees. 

“You say that even though there’s proof.”

“Proof be damned,” you huff. The mattress takes your frame with ease. You sink and sink. Calum’s voice starts close and loud. You can’t pick up on what he’s saying. You might have enough awareness to respond, you might not. But you can catch how far away his voice sounds. It’s comforting, though, as his voice carries you deeper and deeper under sleep. 

________________________

The beard itches-mostly. Though there are parts of the long strands that do tickle at his lips, for the most part the faux beard itches as it rubs against Calum’s cheeks and chin. Part of him wishes he’d just gone with some sort of spray hair dye, but his actual beard has not quite grown in thick enough to consider it, so the faux beard it is. He’s committed now though his faint was sealed weeks ago when he’d gone and purchased the red suit and bag. 

“Perhaps, I can consider myself one of Santa’s helpers,” David teases, helping Calum get the hat on straight. 

“Oh, I don’t know. You’d make a handsome Santa,” Joy teases in response, patting at David’s stomach.

Deeper into the house, the radio plays. Charlie and Teagan sing along to the Christmas songs--Winter Wonderland, Calum thinks is the song playing. Melvin’s keeping them preoccupied after you’ve helped sneak Calum and his family inside without them noticing. Currently, you’re tasked with getting all the presents into the red sack. Calum hadn’t wanted to drive dressed fully as Santa so you agreed to help get them inside quietly so that he could change after arriving. It is a perfect plan, except for the beard. Calum wonders if perhaps Santa can go without a beard this year, but he doesn’t want to ruin the illusion. 

“There are elf ears,” Calum offers. He’d snagged a few other items other than the Santa suit. 

“Oh, where are those? I’ll slip on a pair,” Joy states. Calum points to the backpack he’d tucked the suit into, now tucked into the corner of the bathroom.

His mother slips a pair into David’s head and giggles before putting a pair of ears on herself. It’s silly. Everyone knows it, but there’s a small bit of excitement in it too. You come back to the bathroom, bag tied up but still holding all the presents. Before you can get your full sentence out, Joy slips a pair of reindeer antlers onto your head. 

You snort but have to catch it as the song stops and the house grows a little quiet. The entire bathroom freezes until the bells and bass of the next song start. This cannot be ruined. Though, even if it was, Calum knows Charlie and Teagan would still get a kick out of it. When the singer starts, you exhale. “Your bag is all packed, Santa.”

“Thanks, baby.”

Your gaze is soft. The hat’s settled but Calum watches you take him in. Calum knows you love him. At times, he definitely wishes it was something you voiced more. But he knows you do. It’s in moments like this, even though it’s quiet, Calum wonders how he ever worried he wouldn’t find love again. Only someone who loved and cared so deeply could look at him like this and have it melt his insides. Pressed into the molding of the doorway, you reach out to pull a hair of the beard from his lip. “At the risk of being exposed as a sap, I really do appreciate you doing this. Thanks. And, love, when you retire from politics, you might have a future as a mall Santa.”

Calum snickers at the comment, mindful he can’t laugh too loud. There it is--even in the jabs and teases is the truth. There is love. “Oh, that’s cold, baby. I think I have great genes for a mall Santa.”

“We’ll just have to see about that in another thirty years now, won’t we?” The subtle inclusion of ‘we’, how much you speak about a future makes his heart race. What would life look like in another thirty years with you by his side? It’s quite a thrilling thought that you want to stick around long enough to find out. 

“Ready?” The question comes from his mother and Calum knows immediately by the grins on his parents’ faces that he’s not making it back home on the drive unscathed. They’ll be sure to happily taunt him about any and all endearing interactions they witness today. Yet, the alternative is not a thought Calum wants to consider--having none of this moment is a sour taste rising up the back of his throat. So Calum will stomach what’s come with very little resistance. 

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod before gingerly picking up the bag. Inside are the presents he and his parents have for each other, and the presents for you, Teagan, and Charlie. But it completes the look, so he gets it up and over his shoulder with a nod in your direction. You hold out your phone, having been the one in control of the music that’s been playing since their arrival. The song currently playing thankfully fades out just at the right time just in time for Santa Claus Is Coming to Town to start over the speakers. 

The walk is short, past the dining room and the stairs, towards the living room set in through the back of the house. Just over your head Calum spots Teagan and Charlie at the end of the hallway. They’re much too involved in their dancing to spot the four of you at first. But the bells on your antlers manage to make just enough noise as the distance shortens, that they freeze immediately upon spotting the group. 

“No way,” Teagan laughs. “Absolutely no friggin’ way.”

“We’ve got a special guest,” you start before letting Joy and David pass through in front of you. 

“We’ve got several special guests,” Charlie corrects. “I am still in my pj’s!”

“PJ’s or not, I’ve gotten all the letters in the mail so I still had to stop by,” Calum returns, attempting to make his voice a little deeper than normal. It earns a round of snorts, but it’s worth it in the end. 

“Does this mean we can finally open presents now?” Teagan asks. “Not to be rude. But it’s been hours.”

“No one requested that you wake up at 6:30 this morning,” you tease. 

“That’s not very reindeer of you,” Calum reprimands, failing to hide the smile. 

“Oh heavens, I’d hate to lose my position as head, and only, reindeer.”

“Rudolph is head reindeer and you’re missing a red nose,” Teagan interjects. 

“Rusty on that Christmas lore,” Calum tacks on. “A shame.”

Your response is only a snort, but the room settles after Charlie and Teagan hug Calum and his parents. It’s cozier than Calum anticipated as he settles onto the floor next to you. Teagan and Charlie share the couch with his parents, the Christmas playlist still playing from the speakers. The beard doesn’t last long, but it matters much less as wrapping paper piles up. There’s only small pits of disappointment when Charlie and Teagan crack open a few larger boxes to unveil winter clothes. “Please tell me you at least had help picking out these clothes, Dad,” Teagan teases. 

“Yes, yes, I consulted before all purchases,” Melvin laughs. 

Teagan pulls out a fuzzy purple coat--not something Calum thinks is not quite something that will help entirely against the rather cold winter, but still a coat nonetheless with ears on the hood of it--from her box and her eyes light up. “I’m going to eat my words,” she whispers to an echo of laughter. 

Deeper and deeper they go to unveil sweatshirts, long sleeved shirts bedazzled and screen printed with their favorite shows. Their gifts from Melvin also accompanied by toys to match--figurines for Charlie, and a Chemistry set for Teagan. His last gift to distribute is small, a card that he holds out to you over the coffee table. The dark red envelope shakes in his grasp until you take it and the sharp slide of the folds being cracked open sound much louder than they normally should to Calum. But he watches, and watches as you slip out the card. The front of it holds a painting of a tree, a dusting of glittery snow at the bottom too. It cracks open and unveils a gift card tucked inside. It slides until you catch it against your sternum, eyes following the black text. 

Your mouth falls into a near perfect ‘O’, surprise pulling up your brows as you flip over the giftcard. $250 etched in with a black pen on the back of it to alert you of the dollar amount. “This-wow. Thanks.” 

Calum doesn’t recognize the name of the store on the front of the car, but gathers enough to know it’s an art supply store due to the logo. It’s a rather small gesture--just a gift card. But Calum knows just how much you haven’t told Melvin. He knows just how much there’s a lot more under the surface and Melvin didn’t have to do this. The sense of obligation should be long gone, Calum supposes, but still Melvin had it. 

“This place is pretty high end though,” you tack on. 

“People say it’s the best,” Melvin shrugs. “I figured if you do start taking commissions you’d need supplies.”

“I-really, thanks.”

“Of course. But if there’s anything else you wanted or needed too, just let me know, yeah?”

You nod. “I will.”

It’s not a long look, but Mevlin watches the way you pass out your gifts and it feels heavy. Like if Calum reached out, he might be crushed under the weight of it. A father desperate, and Calum can’t imagine how it might feel, to feel like things might be breaking through, but still not quite there. But progress is still progress. Even if it’s centimeters at a time, even if it feels unbearably slow. 

“These are for you.” Calum takes in the red wrapping paper in front of him. Already the tears are happening around him--he assumes it’s the others with your gifts. Yet, he doesn’t look to verify, only takes the time to notice the shake in your hands when you pass him his two items. One’s larger, more square and flat, and he suspects it’s a painting of some kind. The other is a longer box, something that a piece of jewelry might come in. Your eyes are glassy when the two of you lock gazes. “You okay?” Calum asks softly. 

Just behind the question is his mother’s laughter. “Oh, these seeds are perfect! Thank you for the gloves, Teagan and Charlie. I needed some new ones.”

“Yeah,” you whisper back to Calum. “I’m okay.”

Maybe you are and maybe you’re not. But there’s no true privacy so Calum only nods, though he will be checking in later. 

“Aye, who told you this was my favorite?” David asks with a laugh. 

You turn to face him. “I’ll never tell who the informer is.”

“It’s quite a large bottle though.”

“I know you have some long meetings.”

“Sweetheart, there’s still more,” Joy points out and it’s enough for David to settle the glass bottle onto the floor and fish out the remaining pieces of his present. “Oh, some glasses. That’s nice; a matching pair!”

Calum opts for the smaller box first, tearing near the taped over flaps. The suede box is black underneath and as he cracks it open. “What did you do?” Calum questions. 

When you’d ask what he wanted for Christmas, he didn’t really have an answer. There wasn’t much he could think off--and what he could come up with weren’t things he’d want to ask you to get in the slightest. The shoes he’d been eyeing were rather expensive, so much so that not even Calum would justify getting them yet himself. He’d seen a watch, but liked it more for someone else than himself. Which should’ve left you more frustrated than anything when he failed to come up with a proper list, but instead, you took it with ease. But not without a promise to at least give you a ballpark idea of where to go. 

“I did nothing,” you laugh, “but what any good partner would do, really.”

The box cracks open to reveal a silver cable chain bracelet with a cross pendant linked in the middle. It’s subtle--which is rather important. Calum keeps all of his jewelry subtle and silver. Calum’s sure though, as he pulls the item out from the cushioned box, that he’s never once told you that he preferred silver and then he liked simple subtle pieces. “Did you raid my vanity? How did you know?”

You take the item and clasps it around his wrist. “A true magician never reveals their secrets.”

“Thank you,” he whispers in return. It’s odd--to be observed so carefully, to have been attended to without even realizing he was being attended too. But he likes it, likes knowing you’re still looking out for him even in the smallest of ways. 

“You still got one more,” you encourage through the shouts of Charlie and his latest addition to his baseball card collection--a gift from both you and Calum to him. 

The last gift while flat is hefty. He only realizes now the corners are sharp as they press into his thighs. The first corner that peels away reveals a golden corner. It doesn’t look metal, more like painted wood and down Calum goes tearing the pieces of the paper from the artwork. Specs of black and gray morph until a pink tongue amongst the gray spotted white fur stare back at him. Duke’s cradled in arms that don’t have a person fully depicted, but Calum is sure is his younger self--at least a few years after they adopted him. Frozen in time is Duke--not quite the young puppy he was when adopted, but still in his prime. The picture this is painted after was post a hike, if Calum remembers correctly. Lots of rocks sniffed and climbed, sticks proudly carried up the mountain. Tears sting at his eyes. Calum knew they’d come the second he took in Duke’s visage. 

“Oh no. You’re not supposed to make him cry,” Teagan reprimands. 

The room laughs, even Calum as he works the fake Santa beard off his face. “They’re happy tears, I promise.” Calum sucks back the snot, fingers ever so lightly running his fingers over the paint. For a split second, Calum’s afraid he’ll ruin it--smear paint that’s not fully dry and ruin the time and effort.  “It’s Duke.”

Your arm is warm across his shoulders, a kiss pressed into his cheek. “Yeah, it is, love.”

“Duke? Who’s Duke?”

“His childhood dog,” David returns to the question. It sounds like Charlie who asks. “Joy, I told you it would make him cry.”

“Oh, we all knew it would make him cry,” she laughs. 

“I take it that you like it?” you ask quietly. 

“Baby, I love it.” 

He’s careful as he puts the painting down, not wanting to damage the frame or canvas. But the moment it’s settled, Calum collects you into his arms, a tight embrace as he inhales your scent. The tears are a faucet without a stop, even as you hold him tight. Calum’s not sure where the picture went--though he remembers the moment, and has subsequently seen the photo in one of the many photo albums. He’d sort of resigned himself that those were for his mother, for an illusion of record keeping that he’d never truly get back again. When his parents pass, and when he’s much too old, those albums will get filed away. They’ll become history, for someone years from now to dissect, to ascribe meaning that may or may not be close to the truth. But now, there's a piece of his childhood put down so permanently and just for him. Not a photo to be lost in the shuffle, not a memory to fade, but etched into something tangible. Your hand is steady over his back, a sensation that grounds Calum to the living room floor, keeps him on earth. 

“I’ll admit making you cry on Christmas was not my goal.” It’s a soft whisper against his ear, like you might be afraid to even admit to such a thing. 

Calum takes it in stride, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he pulls back from the embrace. “I’ll forgive you. I just-I don’t know what to say right now besides thank you.”

“I like to think it’s all we need to say sometimes.”

“Maybe,” he agrees. “How’d you even get that photo? It’s over a decade old.”

“I might’ve raided the family photo album for inspiration. I figured the big guy deserved something a bit more than a t-shirt.”

“Thank you.” Because it’s all Calum has, there are no words for the kind of utter shock and awe at this gift. How would anyone put into a sentence such immense gratitude? 

There’s more commotion in the background, squeals from Teagan as she uncovers the gift from Calum’s parents--a giftcard to the toy store that matches to the same dollar amount of Charlie’s gift card to the same store, as all the while Calum’s shock starts to morph. His batch of presents still wait to be passed out. His parents exchange gifts as well; Joy receiving an upgrade to her wedding band to celebrate the thirtieth wedding anniversary and a new legal pad organizer in a sturdy black leather to replace the current one that’s fallen to pieces, David acquires a new travel toiletries bag embossed with his initials after losing his trusty one to an airport shuffle a couple months prior as well as tickets to a football game that Calum bought for the two of them as well. Yet, Calum feels a settling brick of lead. 

He knows it’s not a competition, not a race to be won. But would you consider his gift of the same caliber? It’s not as homemade as the gift you’d given. It’s only now he worries perhaps the gift will be too childish. The exchange is winding to the end too. Calum’s lifeline of delaying is running out. Teagan and Charlie have all their gifts. Melvin exchanges his old slippers for the new ones you gifted and is already working on shifting his items from the old backpack to the new one from you as well. Calum’s gifts from his parents sit next to him--a signed football jersey from his favorite player from his dad and the gag fuzzy socks paired with custom guitar picks from his mother. Calum’s running out of time, but he keeps waiting and waiting. 

Waiting might be his undoing though. David excuses himself for just a moment and in the interim, Joy passes along her gifts for you--socks, a Kiss the Cook apron with scalloped edges, and a voucher for an in-person art workshop to a local gallery. It’s a three-day event to work on techniques according to the flier, but it was an event that was specifically recommended by Amy Whitacker Calum learned when he saw his mother putting the voucher into the card last night. Though, it’s no competition, Calum’s afraid he can’t live up to the awe that lights up your face at the voucher.  

“It’s overkill,” David laughs, returning with a little clank behind him. 

The golf clubs, Calum knows. He’d been with his dad to pick them out. A rather small starting set, but still a set personalized to you as Calum ensured your bag and set was green--to off set, his blue, David’s black, and Joy’s purple. 

“I have literally golfed once,” you laugh. “I didn’t think that qualified me for my clubs.”

“Aye, consider this insurance. Now you’ll have no excuse not to come to the club again with me. Make sure they’re all set at a good height, yeah?” 

“You golf?” Charlie asks. The baseball cards that you and Calum have gifted have not left his hands since he unveiled them. A fact that makes Calum glad he listened when you warned him that any rare or important cards should be put into protective sleeves and then into top loaders well before being gifted. 

You snort as you pull out the driver. “I went once. I’m horrible.”

“Your sibling is a natural,” David corrects. “They’re just humble.”

The driver sits just right on you, not too high that you’re not able to get the proper stance and not too short on you that you’re hunching over in order to get a solid grip. And it’s silly, Calum knows that, but the worry has settled now. He chews at the inside of his cheek when you hug his father. The truth of the matter is that it’s all a little too late now. Your box is clearly labeled and waiting. 

It’s with a small shake in his hand that Calum slides the box over to you. God, he’s praying the gifts are well received. It had taken a whole day’s worth of driving around for one of the items. The original idea of getting you jewelry had been delayed. He wasn’t sure if you like silver or gold--considering there was very little that you wore. And he hated the idea of getting it so wrong that he’d wind up in just a week having to exchange it. So he pushed that to the back and focused on something he could make. The idea cropped up on his social media feed and he took the charge head on to make it. But when you talked about missing that old school radio, Calum knew he couldn’t pass on the opportunity to find one. 

But now all his ideas feel so small. 

“Relationship Coupon Book.” There’s a smile in your voice as you speak. A small seed of hope sprouts. “Control Over Netflix for the Day, oh that’s nice. No Politics Talk for a Day, needed for sure at times. Cooking Class: Private Lessons,” you snort upon reading that one. 

Calum watches with more and more hope, the smile on your face growing. All good signs. You rattle off a couple more, one a bit more quietly and Calum knows by the way you swat at his arms which one you’ve read. All it says is a massage but includes a winking emoji that took Calum four printing attempts to get centered on the page. “Calum!” you huffs, laughing. 

“What?” he returns with a grin. “I figured it would be a good idea. You know, long days on your feet. A foot massage is always a good idea.”

You fall into his arm, forehead pressing into his bicep. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.” It’s quiet as you say it, but your laughter shakes you. “Thank you. This is very sweet.”

The relief is warm as it floods him. “Oh, but there’s still more.” He put the radio into a bigger plain box and set the coupon book on top to try and hide the surprise as much as possible. This will be the true test. As you flip open the top of the box, Calum holds his breath. 

“No fucking way,” you whisper. “No fucking way.”

“That’s the swear jar,” Teagan reprimands, easing closer all the same. 

It’s a flurry of the wrapping paper confining away the rest of the outer box. You flip the whole thing upside down and slowly the box with the radio slips out into your lap. Calum’s not sure if it’s the right kind of radio. He’d seen a few with the large antennas, some from the late to mid 80’s and 90’s that were almost full size stereos. This--the small black and silver portable radio with a retractable antenna--is the best Calum found that struck the right balance between something actually antique and a modern imitation of one. 

“What is that?” Charlie asks. 

The question cuts more than Calum cares to admit, because it’s such a genuine curiosity. A byproduct of all the advances made in time that children now don’t even recognize a radio. Perhaps, that’s a thought he ought to get more used to. More and more as time went on, the less and less of the physical technologies may exist. 

“It’s a radio. Like, an old school one,” you answer. 

And every worry, every fear that nearly took Calum under is washed away when you turn to him with tears in your eyes. “How’d you manage to even find one?”

“A true magician never reveals their secrets.” He’s swift to swipe his thumbs over your cheeks to remove the tears that have just crested over your lashes. 

“You cannot use my words against me. But thank you. Really.”

“You’re welcome, baby.”

You sit for what feels like hours, but is truly only a few minutes. His parents express their gratitude for their gifts from him: a quilt of his old football jersey and t-shirts with some books for his mother, and an eye glass case and chain set as a joke considering all the times David misplaces his glasses with tickets in the spring for a football game of his favorite team. But Calum only watches as you gently pull at the tabs on the box and fully unveil the radio, fingers brushing over the metal item. If he could see it, he might think you’re not here in your childhood home anymore. You’re in the back of the soup kitchen. You’re next to Ms. Shirley. You’re listening to that old radio with static as you knead dough. You’re home--in a way that Calum desperately wants you to feel forever. 

“How does it work?” Teagan and Charlie have both weasled their way into your lap or next to you. Not that you seem to have minded their intrusion in the slightest. 

“I think it’s battery powered,” you start softly, turning it around to check the back. 

Calum reaches back into the box and pulls out the triple A batteries you’ll need and slides them your way. “It is.”

“Oh, thanks.” It’s quick work for you to slip the batteries inside and snap the back on. “Then you turn it on.”

It’s static at first. Your Christmas playlist has been traded for the Christmas parade on TV and even that’s turned down low. Melvin and Calum’s parents work to collect the wrapping paper and discarded boxes, their hushed conversation about breakfast or an early lunch is cut across the scroll of the dial. You spin the dial around, catching different stations. More Christmas music floats in through the tiny speakers, then a man going over the weather. Another station goes by as in the few seconds the station comes in clear Calum hears the parade on the radio mirroring the TV. You don’t stay long until you’re deep into the scroll. 

“There’s AM radio, and FM radio,” you describe. “So each radio station has a specific frequency they broadcast over. You can spin the dial to catch the right frequency. So you know how you hear in my car sometimes they’ll say things like 94.7--that’s the frequency or the station name.”

“Oh. Was this like the first then radio played over?” Charlie questions. 

The curiosity is pure but both Calum and you snort at the question. “Yeah, something like that,” you concede. “I mean that’s cool. But I don’t think it’s as cool as some of the things I got,” he shrugs. 

“Your gifts are pretty cool.”

“So tell me about this Duke guy,” Teagan comments, turning to Calum now. “Unless of course it’ll make you cry again and then you totally don’t. He’s cute though.”

Calum laughs, sliding the painting closer to her. “He was the cutest, so I can’t argue there.”

“He’d, uh, dead?”

“Yeah.” It’s tight from Calum’s throat. But the reality is that grief doesn’t get smaller, everything else gets bigger around it. He’s got a lot more in his life sense then. “He was tiny though. I didn’t think I’d ever get such a small dog, but he was the best.”

Teagan leans his arm, head resting against his bicep. “He sounds like a cool guy.”

“The coolest.”

“Would you ever get another dog?”

Calum’s not sure he has the heart for that. He’d want another one eventually. Love to see the world again through his pet’s perspective. But he’s not sure he can go through the torment that comes with the end of a pet’s life--the constant vet runs, the fear that each day waking up his pet might not. “Maybe. I’d like to. Eventually.”

“Eventually is still a good goal.”

[wiiildflowerrr]

Hi! I don't know of any specifically male reader inserts, but if you take a look at @be-ready-when-i-say-go's masterlist, they've written several reader inserts with non-specific gender or gender neutral readers.

Their current fic, Sweet Dreams, is an AU following the developing relationship between heir to the throne Prince Calum and one of the Palace cooks, a gn reader insert.

Does anyone know of any 5sos x male reader fics

Idm if it's on here or ao3 and sfw or nsfw is fine, I'm just curious as hell 👀

[hollandroos]

could you maybe write a fluffy “my lipgloss is all over your lips.” with calum hood please!! <3

"Calum! we have to be on stage in less than five minutes."

Ashton's fists collide with the bathroom door, knocking furiously in an attempt to get Calum out and ready to clamber on stage. However, his attempts were feeble.

"I'll be there in a minute, mate, just finishing up."

You giggle quietly. But not quite enough apparently.

"Yeah yeah, clean yourself up and tell Y/N that Sierra's waiting for her."

Calum lets out a low and frustrated groan, those familiar cold hands not leaving your clothed waist.

"I haven't seen you in four months. Why can't I just say I feel sick and hang out with you?" He complains, allowing his delicate face to land on your shoulder.

"And hide in the bathroom all night? You know we can't bub. So many people have come here to see you perform." You run your fingertips through his curls, tugging at a few knots. "I'll see you after the show, Cal. Then you can have me for the rest of the night."

Your legs were spread wide. Calum had been standing in the middle of them in the boy's shared bathroom. The 2015 style 5 seconds of summer shirt that adorned your body had been mere seconds away from being removed.

Calum was desperate to keep his fingertips against your warm skin. The same skin he hadn't been in contact with in such a long time and good god - you'd be lying if you said your body didn't ache for his touch.

Michael had previously joked, stating that this was the reason you hadn't come along for the majority of the tour - claiming your presence was too much of a distraction for Calum. Truthfully the boys all adored having you tag along. Sierra loved it the most, stating she needed more female energy on tour.

"C'mon." You nudge his head and fix the mop on top of his head. There was no point really, but still, you brushed the curls to the side and straightened out his shirt. "Showtime."

Your boyfriend takes your hand and leads the two of you out of the bathroom. From the dressing room, you can hear the fans chanting causing the room to vibrate ever so slightly.

You don't know how he and the other boys do it. The thought of standing on that stage alone makes you want to throw up the food you ate on the plane.

"Wait, Cal." You grab the brunette's arm before he can leave the dressing room. "My lipgloss is all over your lips."

Half of you was tempted to let him go out there with your pink lip gloss smeared across his lips and down his neck. The fans would absolutely eat it up and the boys would too. But you chose to be nice to your boyfriend tonight.

Grabbing a nearby tissue you wipe the remains away, laughing softly when it doesn't come off easily. Calum stands still and watches you with a familiar love-filled gaze, eyeing the way you narrow your eyes to wipe it away with care.

Making sure Calum is in the clear you peck him once more on the cheek, making sure the pink gloss leaves a clear stain in the shape of your lips. That one would do.

"Go kill 'em, tiger."

[fangirl-everythang]

Mirrors C.T.H

Summary: Calum and Y/n's schedules haven't lined up in a while. When they finally do, Calum decides to try a reflective persuasion if you will.

Warnings: Daddy Kink, Swearing, Spit, Slapping( well maybe one), Just lots of smut.

Word Count: 2691

A/N: This was inspired by @ContentCalum on Instagram. 10/10 recommend for short blurbs. (ALSO posted on Wattpad)

Can't wait to see you, princess, xxx.

That was the last text I got from Calum after he told me he was coming home. Today was my day off so I spent the day doing some housework. The four of them really do a number when they're together. Recently our schedules haven't been matching and I rarely see him. Just brief periods between my early work schedule and his unpredictable night/ whenever the fuck Michael wakes up studio times haven't left us much time together.

While that's in the oven I can shower. Deciding against pajamas I just grab one of Calums shirts because it smells just like him. Usually, I wouldn't wear a bra but a bralette won't hurt. With the hot steam rolling down the sides of the shower,  I let the water hit my sore muscles. Work has been overly stressful. Between this new launch and creating a new marketing scheme, you would think we were planning the Met Gala. Putting those thoughts work thoughts aside, lathering and scrubbing every area of my body that has seen this house today. Afterward gotta lotion up because ashyness is not an option, sliding on the matching lace panties and Calums shirt that comes down to my mid-thigh.

Going back downstairs to turn the oven off I get started on the sides. Cauliflower mac and cheese isn't as bad as it seems, hopefully. "Duke do you think your daddy will notice?" He looks at me with those cute eyes, not a care in the world, guess not. The sound of the door opening has Duke happily barking and running away from me. Following not too far behind our fury son I see Calum kneel next to Duke.

"Hey Bud, did you miss me?" he asks playfully petting the sweet creature. He cuddles into Calum further when he looks up at me, "Hi princess."

"You know I think it's unfair when you ask Duke does he miss you when I'm standing right here." I grin. He stands up grabbing my waist "Well I know you missed me love." he smiles.

"Did I? You're kind of annoying." He gasps playfully holding his heart. Leaning my head back I reach up to kiss him. He takes his time bringing his lips to mine so I put my hands on his cheek and bring him closer. His soft lips against mine send me into a frenzy. God, I've missed him like crazy. Parting all too soon he leans his forehead on mine. "I love you." he rasps.

"I love you too bub." I grin going back into the kitchen. "Did you want to eat first or?" I ask looking at him questioningly.

"It's 4 pm Y/n." he chuckles. Well, we can eat later then, he concludes.

"Well, it's our first time together in forever, what now?" He has a smirk on his face and reaches for my wrist. "What is it Cal?"  he walks away and up the stairs leaving me to follow him. I should turn the oven off. Glancing over to Duke he's in his little bed laying down. Being so cute I had to take a picture...or three. Taking my time up the stairs to admire the pictures of the cute doggo, "Cal look at these pictures of Du-What are you doing?" He continues to play with the reflective furniture.

"Do you know how good you look in the mirror? I couldn't stop thinking about all the dirty pictures you sent me," He stares at me through the mirror. "You're lucky I wasn't here babygirl." My cheeks flush as he pushes me closer to see our reflections dancing in the mirror with a tight hold on my hips.

"You're my distraction," he whispers as he slowly begins sucking underneath my ear, leaving kisses down my neck. My heart rate increases as his tongue touches a sensitive spot, shivers running down my spine. "As much as I want to tell you how beautiful you are, well you've been a bad girl hmm?" His hand lightly trails across my neck, his eye contact never leaving as he snakes his other hand towards my front over my clothed womanhood. "Answer me." His grip becoming more firm on my neck.

"Yes daddy." he hums in approval as he lifts his shirt above his head exposing his tan torso. "Look at how sexy you are baby." but he didn't seem satisfied when my eyes stay glued to the ground. He could have any girl he wanted and yet he chose me. I'm not skinny whatsoever. I have more tits than ass and rolls for days. The stretchmarks that litter my body don't bother me but most aspects of everything else does. His hand reaches for my hair in a tight fist forcing me to look up at our reflection, my core aching at the sudden pull.  "I'm speaking to you." he says very sternly, "I guess I'll just have to make you listen."

Stripping himself of his pants and sitting on the edge of the bed right in front of the mirror he opens his legs and pats me over. "Sit." I obey him, anticipation building in my core. His hands roam my body freely lingering wherever they please. He begins attacking my neck slowly dragging his finger across my thigh "Look at you, acting like a good girl hmm?" he moves the cotton fabric up to my waist giving him a view of my panties from the mirror "'gonna be good for daddy?"

I nod silently, he shakes his head in a disapproving manner. "Use your words Love."

"I'll be good for you daddy." he hums in approval, spreading my legs apart. He traces his finger along the outskirts of my panties, my hips thrusting lightly "excited now are we?" he smirks looking at the wet spot through the mirror. Calum slides the thin material to the side, lightly grazing my clit. My eyes momentarily closing at the brief touch before his other calloused hand reaches up, grabbing my jaw, forcing me to to look up. "You're going to watch as I tease your cunt. You're going to cum on my fingers, then you'll watch as I devour your pussy. Close your eyes even once and I'll force another out of you. Got it?" He has a fire blazing behind his golden-brown orbs.

"Yes sir." nodding along as his fingers begin tapping on my clit. "Good girl," he whispers before dipping his middle finger into my sex, the digit easily slipping in. "Nuh that way." he reminds me once more to look up into the mirror. The glass allowing me to see everything at once, the way he looks at me hungrily, his slender finger shining with my arousal. I can see his other hand going to reach for my breast before I feel it, the mere fact causing a moan to leave my lips.

"Awwwe you like watching yourself being played with huh?" he maintains eye contact with me through the mirror, as he adds another finger into my throbbing hole. His length pressing into my back, hardening with every sound from my mouth. "Rub your clit y/n."

My hand following his orders adding more sensation to my building orgasm. The scene before me so pleasingly intimate and erotic.  "Cal I'm goin-" My back arching into him as my orgasm takes complete control of my body, his eyes on me every step of the way.

He brings his fingers to my lips, allowing me to taste myself, whimpering himself when I take his fingers into my mouth, sucking them as if they were his member.  I release them, clean, turning to face him.  "I thought I told you-" I lean forward straddling his waist, kissing him roughly. "I know but I want to please you too Cal." Before he can respond I gently slip off the bed, face to groin. I pull down his boxers just enough to release his straining cock, gently stroking it in my palm.  "Let me take care of you," I smile at him, pressing a kiss to the side of his shaft "Please daddy." He groans, swiping his thumb over my lip and nodding. We've been apart far too long, aching to taste him once more.

I lick his shaft, tasting his pre-cum on my tongue, he lets out a sigh of relief, embedding his hand through my hair.  "Mhmmm just like that princess." He moans as I take most of him in my mouth, cupping his balls and pressing my forefinger lightly on the skin between the two. The feeling of him in my mouth forces my mind to wonder about him being inside of me, stretching me in the best of ways, a moan finds its way out from my throat around Calum causing his hips to thrust more. I clench my thighs together to provide some friction for my thoughts, I reach my hand between my legs relieving myself from all the arousal. "Get up." he demands, seeming almost angry. Not wanting to question him I rise confused by the sudden change of tone, knowing better than to say anything.

He removes any fabric left covering my body aggressively, not saying a word.  Pushing me back till my knees cave against the bed causing me to fall back onto our shared mattress. He places himself between my legs, rubbing his length along my core painfully slow. "Please, I need you Cal."  He continues gazing at me through his lust filled orbs, desire seeping from his pores. He pushes his tip in and then taking it out, the feeling gone as soon as it had appeared. A whine erupted from my lips, he chuckled to himself. "Remind me again y/n," he states in a hushed tone, "Are you to touch yourself without my permission?" He looks at me, his finger dancing over my sensitive nub but neglecting it furthermore. Accepting my silence for an answer, "And yet you did." His head dips down encapsulating my nipple in his mouth, a breathy moan leaving my lips as his hands roam my body freely. My hips thrusting trying to create some- any friction. "Cal I won't do it ever again, just please- please fuck me daddy. " A stinging on my cheek causing a gasp to leave my lips, surprised by this side of Calum. Still shocked, he places his hand firmly on my cheek pushing my face into the mattress. The only thing in view is the mirror with his gorgeously tanned tattooed body on top of mine, hand still placed on my face. He leans in dangerously close, moving a strand of hair aside slowly, his fingertip leaving the slightest touch before putting his hand back with the same pressure as before, "Now watch sweetheart." he darkly whispers.

Before I could question it his entire length thrust in me at once, a broken moan escaping me. With the side view, I can see him pounding into me, each thrust harder than the last. "Fuck- so wet hmmm, such a good whore." he moans, I nod under his hand clenching walls around him, tilting my pelvis to meet his. He removes his hand from my face to apply pressure to my clit, hitting a particularly blissful combination.  "Fuck Cal right there!" I scream as the bedrocks underneath our sweaty bodies. He slows his movements savoring the view before him, his good girl-now fucking onto him, desperate for release. Her hair frizzy, eyes fluttering from excessive pleasure, he never wanted it to end. "I love you y/n."

"I love you too Calum." I reach up grabbing his neck to pull him back to me, our lips meeting once more passionately while he thrust into me again. He presses my body closer to his as my legs wrap around him for dear life, my hands holding onto his as if he'd disappear. "Can I cum please?"  He grunts, nodding his head in approval of my very much needed release. Unable to focus on anything but the eruption of pleasure from my core, repeating a slur of Calums name over and over again like it is the only thing I've ever known. His release following shortly after, the warmth of his seed filling me. His panting is my focal point upon return, watching as each breath falls from his swollen plump lips. I giggle moving some of his sweat-coated hair from his face, "Welcome home Mr.Hood." He smiles laughing at my gesture, "Quite the welcome it is Miss Y/L/N" He pulls my face forward once more placing a soft kiss to my lips, which is happily returned before he pulls me to the edge of the bed, still seemingly connected, placing me dead center in front of the mirror once more. Looking at him with a curious glance, he notions to the mirror as I watch his every move. He pulls his softening member from my core, a gasp leaving my lips due to the newfound vacancy.

His eyes never leaving mine as the smirk on his face grows, kneeling between my thighs. I lean up on my forearms to see both him and the reflection better, the handsome bassist looping his arms around my legs, keeping me in place. "Look how pretty baby." He says watching our fluids drip out of me, his tone of admiration never wavering. My hips jut back as he strokes over my clit, still hyper-sensitive from the orgasm just moments before.  As I retract my pussy away from his devilish grin he rumbles a low growl, attaching his lips to my center, his wide hands gripping my hips with brisk strength-leaving prints in their path. His tongue lapping my hole over and over again. He replaces his mouth with his fingers, the scissoring motion driving me on edge once more.  He leans over me, tapping on my lips to which I comply with his wishes, opening my mouth. He smiles before releasing the cum-mixed spit down my throat, swallowing our combined fluids moaning as he returns his mouth to my pussy. My wetness glistening all over his face as he continues to but himself in me. Seeing his back muscles contract in the mirror each time he moves, watching him devour me in the most sinful of ways. I can see it all, moans leaving my lips between my pleas for him to stop his assault but nonetheless, he persists until my legs are a quivering mess around his head. My bare breast rising with every sharp inhale, my back arching further into him, hoping to get away but he keeps me planted there in front of him.

"I need to- Cal can I-I- fuck please" The words barely able to leave my lips, he stares at me nodding but never removing himself from my core. My orgasm ripples through me, forcing my body to compromise, stiffening as I release on Calum's tongue. My hips riding his tongue exactly where I need him as my fingers grip at his hair, hearing him moan at the feeling sending an aftershock of vibrations through my center.  An unholy slurping noise from Calum is the last thing to be heard as he joins me again on the bed, pulling me into him. His lips providing every emotion needed. "I missed you."

I laugh at his cute post-sex neediness, "I missed you too Cal." He pats my head, letting his hands rake through the mess of hair on top of my head as I trace over his feather tattoo. "Did I ever tell you how good you taste?" he murmurs, shrugging lightly to himself, "Fucking delicious." His hands lingering the curves of my body before he places two fingers on my clit. "No, no, no not again." I chuckle pushing him away as my body shudders from the sensation.

"Hmmm I suppose we'll have more time today." he rasps. "Indeed we will." I smile placing a kiss on his cheek. Let's just say the night was more than eventful, happy to be in each other presence again.

A/N:

WOW long time no see! I can't wait to get back into the flow of writing and now that the semester is over I have more time lol.

I hope you're all hanging in there alright!

xoxo-Janelle

[nostalgiabones]

Big Sister // C.H

So here is the next installment of the Second Baby series - Mara finding out about the new arrival! I’m not sure how happy I am with how this turned out, but hopefully it’s better than I think. Feedback is appreciated as always! Thanks for all the love on this series so far 🥰

Word count: 3.5k

1. Finding Out 

“Have you got everything, Mara?”

Calum checks her backpack, full of the necessities for Luke and his partner to take care of Mara for a few hours. You were yet to tell anyone else of your pregnancy; just a sweet, exciting little secret between the two of you. Calum sleeps with a warm hand over your stomach, his fingertips finding a home under his t-shirt that you stole to sleep in. You’d finally got a doctor’s appointment for your first scan, to make sure everything is okay – it felt like so long since you first took the test, even though it had only been a few weeks.

You hand her stuffed elephant to her, knowing she’d be upset if she left it behind. It’s worn and well loved, after going everywhere with Mara for the past almost four years. It had been covered in food, ended up in the pool, and been through the wash more times than you could count, but Mara still loves it.  

“Yep,” Mara perches on the edge of the bottom step whilst Calum ties her shoelaces. It was something he had been trying to teach her for a little while, but she was taking her time trying to get her head around it. If you were in a rush, she’d happily just let you or Calum do it. “Will you come back soon?”

Calum nods in response, finishing her laces before dropping a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll only be gone for a few hours, okay? You’re going to have lots of fun with Uncle Luke and Delilah, honey. You might even be able to take Petunia for a walk.”

With Luke and his partner becoming parents to Delilah in the week following you finding out about your own baby, Calum felt bad asking him to babysit when they had their own family to take care of. Luke had waved his concern off though, of course, reassuring him that Mara was always welcome at their home, no matter how busy he was. If anything, you and Calum were just curious to know how Mara was around Delilah. It would be an indication of her reaction to your own news.

You worried your own nerves had rubbed off on Mara, as she seemed a little anxious about going to Luke’s, when she’d usually be excited. She didn’t know you were going to the doctors. Luke didn’t know either. Mara isn’t the biggest fan of the doctor, and you know it would only worry her more if she knew that was where you were going.

Something you were trying to keep in mind was how much of her environment Mara absorbed. The night you found out you were pregnant, she knew you were sick, and your morning (or, all day,) sickness hadn’t let up since then. You didn’t want to scare her, and things would make much more sense once she knew about the baby. Calum had taken over most mealtimes in case her food made you queasy, and you were unsure of how much she noticed.

“Okay, lets go,” You take her hand in yours as Calum locks the house, helping her into her car seat so you can head to Luke’s. During the short journey she points out what she can see along the way, as well as singing along to whatever was on the radio. “Oh look, Mara! There’s the baby.”

You spot Luke standing in his doorway with Delilah in his arms, the sweet three-week-old baby curled up in his hold. Seeing Delilah just makes you more excited for your own new arrival – that you get to have a newborn all over again.

“Lilah!” Mara exclaims, running up to Luke and wrapping her arms around his legs in a sweet hug. Luke’s free hand lands on her head, hugging her back the best he can with Delilah in his arms. “Hi Uncle Luke!”

“Hi, sweetheart,” He greets her, moving out of the way so she can step inside.

“Thanks for watching her today,” You tell him, lightly brushing your hand over Delilah’s hair in a silent greeting, careful not to wake her. “You’re brave taking on another child with a newborn in the house.”

“I told you, anytime. I’m an expert now anyway,” He jokes, rocking Delilah in his arms as he speaks to keep her settled. “Where are you headed to?”

Calum answers before you have the chance to. “We just have an appointment to go to.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want Luke to know — more just that you were determined to keep it between the two of you for a little longer. The doctor’s appointment would provide the reassurance you were looking for, but you wanted Mara to be the next to know.

“Okay, we’ll be back to pick you up in a few hours, Mara.” You lean down to kiss her cheeks, saying goodbye before standing up again. “Be good.”

“I will.” She replies, hugging Calum before the two of you head back to the car. “Bye bye.”

***

“So, you’re around 8 weeks?”

You nod at the doctor’s question, a trembling hand held tightly in Calum’s as you lay on the bed. His thumb rubs soothing circles over the back of your hand, trying to ground you.

“I think so, yeah. If we worked it out right.” You reply, biting your lip from nerves as the doctor nods in response. The anxiety of the first few weeks of a pregnancy would never go away; it was difficult to keep a secret but would be even more difficult to tell them devastating news if it came. It was safer this way, and you enjoyed being in the happy little baby bubble with Calum for a while.

“Okay, we’ll be able to tell in a moment.” She informs you, before asking you to lift your jumper so she can get to your stomach. “Sorry, this will be cold. Is this your first baby?”

You shake your head, a smile on your lips as you think of Mara. “No, it’s our second. We have a three-year-old daughter.”

“Aww, how lovely. Is she excited to be a big sister?”

“We haven’t told her yet,” Calum replies. “But we’re hoping she will be.”    

Calum lifts your intwined fingers to his lips, brushing a soft kiss over your knuckles to distract you as the nurse squeezed the gel over your lower stomach. You shivered at the sensation, laying your head back on the bed as you tried to relax. It felt like a lifetime as the nurse ran the doppler over your barely there bump, waiting to hear the sound that every parent loves so much.

“So, there’s not too much to see since you’re so early on, but there…” She points to the screen, a small flicker in the centre of the screen, the first sight you and Calum got of your baby. “There’s the baby. And if you hold on a second...”

Tears spring to your eyes as you gaze at the screen. It’s not much, but they’re there, and it’s a relief that everything seems to be okay.

“Look at that,” Calum murmurs, chuckling as his other hand wipes the tears from your cheeks. “There they are.”

The nurse flicks a switch on her machine and suddenly, the room is filled with the whooshing sound of your baby’s heartbeat.

“There we go,” The nurse smiles at the healthy sounding heartbeat, confirming that everything is okay. It’s the sound you’d never get tired of – making everything suddenly feel very real, like there’s definitely another baby growing inside of you. “Everything looks and sounds great. Would you like some photos printing?”

“Yes please.” You reply, unable to focus on anything other than the tiny dot on the screen that would soon grow into your baby that you would raise and love. Calum couldn’t help but get emotional too – it doesn’t feel like anytime at all since you were here to have your scan with Mara, and now she’s almost four. It makes him realise how much she’s grown, and how nervous he is to tell her about the new baby in case she got upset. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being sad, especially since it would be such a huge change to her life.

***

“Uncle Luke, can we do some drawing please?”

Mara looks up from her plate at her place at the dinner table, where she had been eating her lunch, made by Luke’s partner.

“Sure, sweetheart. Let me just put Delilah down and then I’ll get the pens out, okay?” Luke answers, moving Delilah’s moses basket into the kitchen with his free hand, so he could watch her. He stands and rocks Delilah for a moment, making sure she was sound asleep before setting her down in the crib.

“Delilah is little,” Mara comments, watching as Luke tucks Delilah in, stroking over her light tufts of hair to soothe her as she settles.

“She is, honey.” Luke chuckles at her comment. “You used to be as little as Delilah too. You used to fall asleep on me like she does.”

“Really?” She exclaims, and Luke smiles at the wonder on her face. He loves watching Mara grow up and learn about the world, and answer as many of her endless questions as he can. She had been inquisitive ever since she could talk – “why?” being one of the first words that she learned. He sees so much of Calum in her. He’d always catch her just sitting quietly, taking in her surroundings – always observing without saying much. He sometimes wonders what she thinks so deeply about in her three-year-old mind, and he usually finds out when she asks her questions. “Did I cry as much as she does?”

Luke laughs again at her question.

“Sometimes,” He replies, having just settled Delilah from crying for a good ten minutes. Mara had seemed unbothered, distracted by his partner making her lunch, but she clearly had paid attention to it. “All babies cry a lot because they can’t talk and tell you what’s wrong. Once you were on the tour bus with us, and you cried all night because you didn’t want to go to sleep.”

Now it’s Mara’s turn to laugh at him. She clasps her hand over her mouth and giggles, clearly finding the story very entertaining as Luke gets out the pens and paper he has stored for her visits.

“What do you want to make?” He asks her, hoping it’s not anything too creative – he once tried to do origami with her, but in his new-dad sleep deprived state, he’s not sure how well it will go.

“I wanna make a card for mum,” She says, a concerned furrow of her eyebrows as she speaks. Luke notices how she wrings her hands together as she talks, a sign that she’s usually nervous about something. “Her tummy has been poorly.”

Luke pauses for a moment, wondering if that has anything to do with the appointment you had gone to, his mind filled with questions.

“Oh, has it? How?” He asks, and he’s not sure how much she knows, yet he’s worried that something is wrong.

“She gets sick when she wakes up.” Mara responds, and it tells Luke everything he needs to know.

Morning sickness?

Suddenly Luke feels as though he knows what’s going on, but he can’t be certain, and it doesn’t seem like Mara knows anything more. “I think that’ll be nice, honey. I’m sure your mum will love that.”

She’s quiet as she colours, needing Luke’s help to draw out the letters to spell ‘Mum.’ He notices she’s getting better at staying in the lines, considering her age. Luke thinks back to the day you, Calum and Mara met Delilah, how Calum’s eyes lit up when his partner asked about a second baby. He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but now from what Mara had said, it makes sense.

It’s not too long before there’s a knock at the door, and you and Calum are back to pick her up.

Mara is too focused on her drawing to pay attention to you speaking to Luke’s partner, her tongue sticking out in concentration. Calum sneaks up behind her, but doesn’t want to scare her, especially if it could ruin her drawing.

“Hey, you.” Calum taps her shoulder gently and her head snaps up, turning around at the sound of his voice. “What are you up to?”

“Hi, daddy!” She squeals as he picks her up, hugging her against his body as she wraps her legs around his waist. “I made this card for mum.”

“That’s so sweet, baby, do you want to give it to her?” He replies, knowing you’ll be joining them in a moment. He’s not sure of how much she’s told Luke, or if he knows anything at all.

You exaggerate a gasp as you spot the card in her hand. “Is that for me, baby?”

“Yes, for you!” She exclaims, handing the card to you from her spot on Calum’s hip.

Luke decides to pry as much as he can without overstepping.

“Oh yeah, Mara mentioned you’ve been sick in the mornings, are you okay?” He asks, a smirk on his lips as if he knows that you’re both going to understand his prods.

His question catches you off guard, knowing Mara had told him so innocently – yet it’s given Luke a huge hint as to what’s going on. Calum looks down at his docs and clears his throat, avoiding eye contact with Luke. “Oh, I’m fine, I’ve just had a stomach bug recently.”

Luke nods but narrows his eyes at you, and you change the topic of conversation before it can go any further.

“I think it’s about time we get you home, hey?”

***

“What if she gets upset?”

Calum sighs at your words and presses a kiss to your hairline, watching as you rub your thumb over the scan photo in your hand. The day had come to finally tell Mara about the new addition to your family, and you were nervous. You couldn’t bear the thought of your sweet daughter getting upset about such a big change to her life.

“We have lots of time for her to get used to it, honey.” Calum reassures you, his fingers grazing over the small, slightly raised bump under his palm. It wasn’t much, nothing that anyone outside of you and him would notice, if you looked close enough. It was small enough that Mara wouldn’t know any different, but you didn’t know how long it would stay that way. “The sooner we tell her, the more time she has to adjust. I don’t think she’s capable of being angry at you.”

You relax into him for a second, your head pressed against his chest as he holds you in the soft comfort of your bed. Mara is still asleep as far as you’re aware – there had been no sign of her calling for you from down the hall or joining you in your bed for a morning cuddle. You thought that a good time to tell her would be after breakfast, so she’d had time to wake up properly.

“I’ll go get breakfast started,” Calum murmurs, brushing his lips over the spot behind your ear. “Meet you downstairs. Stop worrying, okay? It’s going to be fine.”

You lay in the bed for a moment, taking a deep breath, before heading down the hall to get Mara up.

“Mara, honey, can we talk to you?”

Mara looks up from her toys, still comfortable in her pyjamas as she plays for a little while after breakfast. You’re cosy on the sofa, a throw strewn over your legs, as Calum sits next to you. His hand slips into yours, squeezing gently to ground you. Mara hops onto the sofa, snuggling in between the two of you, so you can talk to her.

“So, you know how Uncle Luke and your auntie have Delilah now?” Calum starts and she nods, waiting until you continue. “Well, how would you feel if we have another baby, to live here with us? And you got to be a big sister?”

She furrows her eyebrows in confusion, like she didn’t quite understand what was going on.

“I have a baby in my tummy, Mara.” You smile, giving her a minute to take in what you were telling her, as Calum runs his hand up and down her back, in a comforting gesture. “Do you want to see?”

You pull out the scan photo and set it in front of her, so she can see for herself. “They’re very small for now, but look, that’s the baby,” you tell her, pointing to the small blob in the middle of the photo.

“A baby?” She asks, her big, brown eyes gazing up at you. You nod, brushing her curls out of her face.

“Yeah, sweetheart. How do you feel about that? Are you happy?” You ask her, unable to tell how she was feeling.

“Yeah,” She replies, a small smile on her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes like her usual happy smile does. She sits quietly for a moment, her feet swinging against the edge of the sofa. “When will the baby be here?”

“Not for quite a while, honey. So, we have lots of time to get ready, okay?” Calum reassures her, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “It’s okay if you’re not excited right now, we know it’s a big change for you, but you’ll be able to help us with the baby as much as you want. They’re going to love you so much, little moon.”

She nods, her eyes not leaving the scan photo in your hand as she observes it. You notice her eyes are lined with tears, and you’re unsure whether it’s from being sad or just overwhelmed by the information. Your heart aches at her not being as excited as you had hoped for her to be.

“They’ll be just like Delilah, baby, but they’ll live here with us so you can cuddle them whenever you like.” You tell her, hoping it’ll help her to warm up to the idea. “You’ll be such a good sister, bub.”

Calum thinks about his relationship with Mali, his own sister – how he loves to have an older sibling to look up to, and he knows Mara will be that for the new baby. He had always wanted a big family, so Mara always has someone around, like he did with Mali. Even if she doesn’t seem to be excited now, he knows she’ll warm up to the idea eventually.

“So the baby is in your tummy?” She asks, looking at your hoodie covered middle, as if she was trying to see. “Is that why your tummy has been funny?”

You sit up, lifting your hoodie so she can look at your stomach, even though there’s not much of a bump to see yet.

“Yeah, honey, right in there,” You point to the middle of your stomach. “And they’ll keep growing until they’re ready to be born. My bump will look like your aunties did, with Delilah. And yeah, the baby made me sick, that’s why it was funny, but it’s okay.”

“That’s not very nice of the baby.” She frowns, concern in her eyes as she looks up at you.

Calum chuckles at her words. “It’s not the baby’s fault, honey. They’re just trying to grow, and that’s what makes mum sick.”

She reluctantly cuddles into your side and places her hand over the middle of your stomach, patting the spot tentatively. “Aww, you’re so sweet Mara. Are you okay?

Calum’s gaze catches yours and you share a look, both reassured that the fear of telling her was over – yet you can’t help but feel anxious about her reaction. You know she isn’t yet truly happy, since you know how she is when she’s happy, and it’s not as quiet as she’s being right now.

“Can I go back and play now?” She asks, and you nod, kissing her cheek and holding her for just a moment longer.

“Of course, Mara. Love you so much, okay? Having another baby doesn’t change that, I promise. You’ll always be our first baby.” You brush your pointer finger over her cheek as she looks at you, waiting for you to finish talking before she nods, sliding off the sofa with a “love you, mumma” before she goes back to her games.

Calum shifts closer to you, knowing she didn’t react how you had hoped. You hide your face in his neck, trying to hide your own eyes filling with tears as his fingertips smooth up and down your back.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” He murmurs quietly, so only you can hear. “She’ll come around, I promise.”

You just hope that he’s right.

***

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[alisonsfics]

5 seconds of summer masterlist

Imagines

Calum Hood:

-coming soon

Luke Hemmings:

-coming soon

Ashton Irwin:

-coming soon

Michael Clifford:

-coming soon

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

Requests OPEN

~request rules here~

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

CONGRATULATIONS ON GRADUATING H!! 🥳🥳

May I request a Calum fic where reader is also a singer and after a chill day of running errands and having dinner they go hangout in their home studio. They just fool around making music and maybe they post a clip of what they made to their socials and fans beg them to release a song together. Maybe they do end up doing something low key just for the fans. The whole thing is just super fluffy and they’re the cute musician couple everyone adores 🥰🥰

Thank you!

Also thanks for your patience. I got carried away a bit with this one.

Written for Graduation Blurb Weekend. Going until May 8th. 

Gender Neutral Reader Insert. 

Muses

_________________

You touch your back pockets even before Calum turns to you. The person behind the window seems to be staring blankly after requesting the 58 cents. You find your wallet and some change clinks around. You pray it's enough. Calum’s already pulling his card from one of the slots in his wallet, but he knows. He knows you hate when he uses his card for things so small so he pauses for a moment as he hears you whisper out the command, “Wait.”

“It’s really just a stamp,” Calum counters. 

“No, absolutely not,” you return. Two quarters plop into your hands. Behind it are some dimes, a couple nickels and a handful of pennies. You pick out the correct coinage and hand it over to Calum. Calum passes it over to the attendant. They give it a quick glance over and then tap their keys to get to the register open. 

“Do you need a receipt?” they ask. 

Calum shakes his head no. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Have a great rest of your day.”

The two of you return the sentiment and then move off to the side. The post office seems to be somehow busy even though the morning’s barely broken. Plenty of people are in lines with boxes and slips and it feels silly for Calum not to have stamps to mail off things. But as par for the course, he manages to handle most things electronically. It’s your mail that you needed to send off--a card for a friend who’s a couple states away. You normally do the texts and posts on Instagram. But you still think there’s nothing quite like getting a physical card in the mail. 

“Thanks,” you state to Calum, threading an arm around his. 

“Of course, love,” he returns, smiling at you from behind the sunglasses and trucker cap. “Should we divide and conquer on hair cut and grocery?” His stylist was only a few blocks away from the grocery store. 

You shake your head. “It’s not like your hair takes that long.” 

It was time to clean up the mullet, possibly even say goodbye to it. The thing he didn’t want to happen was that he somehow managed to make some sort of last minute decision about his hair and then delay the rest of the day. “Are you trying to keep me from going green?”

You laugh. “I think you’d look good in a lot of different colors. But I don’t know. I just don’t think green is it for right now.”

“Hmm, just say you don’t love me.” The lights to the SUV blink and Calum opens the door for you. 

Before he can close the door, you lean in closer to him. “I do love you. Just to let all the records show.”

“Yeah, yeah, but you won’t let me dye my hair green and it might as well be the same thing.” He punctuates the jest with a kiss. 

“Lordy,” you mutter and buckle yourself into the truck. The drive is mostly quiet even over the soft voices floating up from the radio. 

“Do you like the mullet?” Calum asks at a stop light. 

“What do you mean?”

Calum gives a shrug, waiting for the light to turn green. A few pedestrian cross in front of the car. “I don’t know. Like, I like it. But you never really said anything about it. I guess I’m just assessing the options.”

You reach out and squeeze his free hand. “I think you should do what makes you happy. The mullet’s been interesting. It’s grown on me. But I’m not with you for your hair, love.”

Calum nods. “I know your favorites though.” The grin on his faces eludes to the nights you two have spent lost in each other. “Blue shave. Short sides, long top. Growing out blonde/a bit of platinum was your peak.”

Your laughter attempts to cover the embarrassment. “Shut up. Also, the blonde was like right at the height of our honeymoon phase. So you can fuck off.”

“Oh I can fuck off, huh? Put that on the to-do list.”

Your giggles escape you in tufts. It’s a ridiculous list. But you lean into the joke and pull out your phone. As you title it, set a date and time, you decide to go as far as inviting Calum to the invite as well. His phone shakes after the event is created. You know he won’t check it for a while, but it’ll be a nice laugh for later. 

The silence after your laughter settles and you turn your attention solely to Calum. The cap creates shadows that caress his full cheeks and though you know it’s just your imagination you imagine the shadows that pass over his face see what you see too. The quiet soul, the boisterous laughter, the animated man when he wants to be that is Calum. You imagine that Calum is also like an electromagnetic field and anyone who settles into his radius is just sucked it. It’s not worth fighting. 

You’d found Calum by what you’d call a fluke. A bar that you frequented hosted open mics and thought you and your songwriting career was already taking off (finally) you still made time to come back, to pay homage and respect to the place that gave you your start. So you waltzed up to the makeshift stage only intending to sing your two latest releases, have maybe one or two drinks and then head back home. 

But after your two songs, while at the bar, Calum approached you. You call it a fluke because after performing you noticed a text from your producer asking if you could come in tonight. And you almost left immediately. But between the folks that came to approach you, you’d been floated up to the bar and then you figured one drink wouldn’t hurt you. And just like that, by the fates of the universe you found yourself in the position for Calum to approach you. 

“You’re staring,” Calum notes, pulling the truck into a space. 

“You’re handsome,” you return and then unbuckle yourself. It’s matter-of-fact and you’ve never exactly been one to hide your thoughts at least from Calum. You were the door that always seemed to cracked ajar. He was the door always closed. And yet, he’d seen your openness and wanted some. 

The two of you walk into the salon and Calum’s stylist greets you both with a smile. She waves him over to her chair and you settle into one of the plush chairs and pick up the latest edition of Vogue to preoccupy yourself. The rush of water, the buzz of clippers, the soft hum of music all mix above you and settle into your ears. You manage occasionally to catch Calum’s laughter ringing above all the sounds. When you glance up, you spot him in all the phases--at the shampoo bowl, waiting with his conditioner, back to the bowl, in the seat again. 

And you only really capture the events in glimpses, looking up to spot him in the area of the salon and then going back to your magazine. You’ve traded Vogue for Rolling Stones and then Rolling Stones for Cosmopolitan. You keep cycling through until you notice a presence creating a shadow over you. When you glance up, you spot Calum, grinning sans his hat. The bushy sides have been taken down, the long back shortened. The top’s been taken down too. The short cut accentuates all the sharp angles of his face. 

“What’s cookin’ good-lookin’?” you tease. 

“Ah, so you do like the mullet,” he teases, holding out a hand. 

“I like it when it’s fresh, if you must know.” As you ascend, you press a kiss to his cheek. 

“That calendar invite, by the way, has been accepted.”

You laugh at the wiggle of his brow. “But first grocery store?”

“Yes, to the grocery store. And we do need to get Duke’s food too.”

“Of course.” 

Duke’s paws click against the hardwood floors and it’s barely audible over the crinkle of the brown paper bags both you and Calum are carrying. Grocery shopping went smoothly and though you got sidetracked looking at vacuums. You wanted a new one, though nothing was wrong with the current one. With Calum at your side, he easily talked you out of it but did make the joke he’d put down as a birthday present. 

“So, burgers for dinner? I am feeling particular lazy,” Calum comments as the last of the grocery are put up. 

“Burgers sound good. Are we finishing the last of those fries too? The frozen ones?”

“We do need space in the freezer, so yes, I think we should.” Calum comments, trying to get the freezer door closed. 

“It’s the damn chili too,” you laugh, thinking about the containers you frozen a couple weeks ago. “I was supposed to take some to the studio this week but never defrosted them in enough time to actually do that, my bad.”

Calum laughs and takes one container down and places it into the fridge. “I’ll bite the bullet this week. But you have to take the other container next week, okay? Promise?”

Wrapping your pinky around his, you nod. “Swear it with a cherry on top.”

“My love, all your sayings are twisted,” he laughs but gets the oven preheating and a pan warming. You pull out the head of lettuce, a tomato, and an onion too. The second the pan sizzles with four patties, a second patty should either one of you want it, you’re already moving to slice and dice. Calum watches the way your forearms tense as you slide the knife through the onion. He knows it’s a small detail, something others might miss, but he follows the line of your body up. When his gaze settles onto your face, he’s so caught in the way your lips sit and your eyes have a small crinkle around them, that he knows is just from all the times you’ve smiled. 

“You’re the kind of person people create art about,” Calum states suddenly. 

You pause your cutting and look up. “I mean, you’re a song writer, so you’re saying you wouldn’t create art about me.” It’s a tease and he knows when you grin. 

“I mean I would and I do sometimes. But I just mean, like I get it now. You know. Why all the classics and all the art I’ve seen and the whole thing about muses. I get it now.”

Setting the knife down, you kiss his cheek. “Also please get our burgers to the other side so they don’t burn.”

With a small hiss, Calum turns back to the pan and gets the patties flipped over. “I’m on it, I promise.”

“Sure you are,” you laugh, one hand sliding between his shoulders and tracing his spine down. But you do get it. What a muse to have in front of you too. 

Since Calum cooked, though you did assist, you clean. The dishes aren’t massively overwhelming as you tried to clean just a little as Calum cooked. You’ve been washing mostly in silence until you catch the distinct plucking of some strings and you listen to Calum as he works. You assume some sort of inspiration as hit him and you’re content just to listen to him as he works from your place in the kitchen. 

The chords keep calling you though and when the sink sucks down the last bit of the sudsy water, you follow the sounds. The music room door is open and you lean up against the molding. Duke’s curled up on his bed next to the desk and Calum’s head is hanging low on his neck as if he needs every sense pressed up against the acoustic guitar to truly feel the emotion. 

Calum hums for a moment and then reaches around the instrument for the legal pad. “Want help or want company?”

“When it’s you, it’s both and I’m happy about it,” he grins. 

You pull the second computer chair from the corner over to his desk. “Play what you’ve got so far.”

“As you request Your Majesty.” 

Calum plucks out only about a verse worth of instrumentals. He plays it once without lyrics and then a second time singing to the lyrics he’s been scribbling down since dinner. You’re tapping the tempo out on your thigh, head reclining into the cushion of the seat. By the time Calum’s voice accompanies the chords, you’re already cooking up something. You turn to the keys against the wall. Your fingers fumble for a moment, but you get your rhythm quickly. Calum grins at the hums you’re giving, almost as if you had lyrics, but weren’t sure about it.

“I love you, but we are not going to try and slot orange into this song,” Calum laughs. He’s moved now to the couch, the guitar covering up this chest as he melts into the cushion. 

You watch your phone, having recorded some of your session just for memory sake. It’s still going and you push away from the computer. You’re trying to see the iambic pentameter of a line and you need the stressing that orange has to fit th line.  “I’m not saying we have to use orange. I’m just saying that word fits the pattern.”

“God, you sound like Luke a little. Let’s take it from the top, yeah. Something will hit us.”

You scoot yourself back to the keys and on Calum’s count, the two of you start the introduction of the song. As your voices mix in the air around you too, you find yourself feeling floaty. It’s the sensation you get when something is mixing just right, when all the sights, and sounds, and chords have mingled so well that it causes your body to almost leave this plane. You are here, but you are also not here. 

The song goes all the down until the final bridge and you two let the sounds of your notes fade out into the echoing room. “Maybe there’s nothing left to say,” Calum offers, his fingers still sliding over the frets. 

“Maybe not,” you agree and then grab your phone to pause the recording. “We can always sleep on it.”

“Let me hear,” Calum asks, sitting up. You play the video for him and he grins during the playback. That’s his love, that’s his muse right there on camera, singing about how the two of you inspire each other. “Should we post a small clip?”

You pause for a moment, feeling the shock pulling up your own brows. “If you’re sure. I know you’re not like, big on posting too much about us. And I respect that. It is a hell of a lot sometimes with the fans. But I don’t want you to feel forced to do it.”

He nods. “I’m sure.” It’s all he says. And for Calum, that’s all he needs to say. He starts to edit down a small clip and then exports it as a secondary video onto your phone. He sends a copy to himself and when his phone shakes with the text, he sets your down. 

There’s a few moments of silence and Calum’s finger tap over his screen. You start saving the stuff on the computer. It’s exporting and you know sometimes it can take a while. Duke pushes up from the bed and waddles out of the room. “I love you, Duke,” you call out after him. But he says nothing in response. “Typical.”

Arms slide around your shoulder and neck, hanging loosely. “So there’s still that calendar invite,” Calum whispers against your ear. 

You hum at the sensation of his breath hitting your skin. “Ah, yes, it would appear so.”

Calum gently pulls you away from the desk. “Shall we?” he grins. 

You laugh, but stand. “We’re getting older. We should stretch first.”

He scoffs, “I am still limber. Thank you very much.”

_____________

You don’t even have a mind to worry about your phone until the next morning. You sit up and reach for your night table only to be greeted just by your alarm clock and the family pictures of you, Calum, and Duke at the park from your first anniversary date. 

Peeling from the sheets, though Calum’s arm is still loosely encasing your waist, you get up and find your phone on the table in the music room. The screen is mostly a mess of notifications from Instagram and you think you really should turn those off at some point. You hadn’t yet out of fear, but now you worry having the notification is doing nothing but draining your phone’s battery life and your mental energy.  As you go to mass clear the notifications, you tap on one and the app opens up. It refreshes; the photos of friends from back home are replaced. The first one you notice is from Calum. The video plays without the sound and it’s the two of you from the night previously. You catch the caption, my muse at work.

[calumance]

Could you do a imagine where your dating calum and they are filming the cocktail chats and you walk into the room and that's what the "wassup baby" comment is about but it didn't get edited out so the fans find out about you

I wrote this on my phone at work so sorry about the poor editing 😂😂

        It was one of those weeks where everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. By Thursday you were sure that the pounding headache that sat behind your eyes was a permanent thing. This weekend was your weekend to spend at Calum’s, being that you had an agreement to switch of what house you stayed at each weekend. On Friday, after all of your work was done, you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. You shut your computer down and nearly ran out of the office to your car. A weight lifted off your shoulder as you sat in the car knowing you were free for at least the next two days. As you started the car, you tapped a message to Calum telling him that you were on your way. Almost immediately a message came through telling you to meet him at Ashton’s house. Without responding, you set your phone down and started driving.

        When you got to Ashton’s house, you crossed your arms over your chest and walked towards the front door. The door was unlocked, so you let yourself in, it’s not like you hadn’t done it a million times before. Ashton had been your best friend way longer than you and Calum had been together. The house was weirdly quiet, but when you rounded the corner you stopped dead in your tracks.

        There was a near professional film studio set up in Ashton’s kitchen. Lights shining bright onto a blue background. There was a single stool placed in front of the background. Calum was sitting on the stool, talking about Carl Falk who you knew from the times you spent with Calum in the studio. Ashton turned hearing your footsteps and waved to you in a rather goofy manner. Ashton tip toed up to you and threw his arms around you, shaking you slightly. As he enveloped you in his embrace, the smell of alcohol burned your nose hairs. “Are you drunk?” You asked Ashton, looking at the time.

        “Yeah!” Ashton laughed, his face turning red. “We all are. We decided to get drunk and do a listening party and call it ‘Cocktail Chats.’” Ashton swallowed hard and then lifted his straw to his lips.

        “Got it.” You said as a smile stretched across your lips. “Guess I have some catching up to do, don’t I?” Ashton nodded and followed you as you stepped closer to the set.

        Calum’s slightly slurred voice became the only thing you listened to, “Let me tell ya how it went down, they come into our room and,” Calum’s eyes shift as he sees you walking towards him and without thinking stops in the middle of his sentence, “Oh, wassup baby?” You raise your eyebrows and stifle a laugh. In the midst of his drunken haze, he remembers that no one outside of your immediate friend group knows you’re together. He tries to continue at the beginning of his sentence, but instead he laughs and swipes his hand through the air, “Don’t put that in.”

        You put your hand over your mouth and laugh as Calum finishes up what he was trying to talk about. Once his segment is over, he hops off the chair and runs over to you, pulling you in for a sloppy, drunk kiss. “You slipped up, buddy!” You said, poking his chest.

        “I know! But don’t worry, they’ll edit it out. Drink?” He said reaching towards the completely full drink on Ashton’s table.

        You hastily grabbed the glass from him and widened your eyes, “Yes, PLEASE. Especially after the week I just had.” You took a hefty gulp from the glass, earning a laugh from Calum.

**

        It had been a few weeks since you walked into the filing of Cocktail Chats, and now that the album was out, so we’re the videos. It was Calum’s weekend to spend at your house, and there was very little to do. You were laying back, you back pressed against the arm of the couch. Calum was stretched out towards the other end of the couch, his head resting on your stomach. The soft breaths he was letting out gave you a hint that he was asleep. You reached over and grabbed your phone, noticing a bunch of notifications. Your eyebrows stitched together as you opened your notifications and started reading.

        You felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest. Calum noticing you in Cocktail Chats had not been edited out, and now everyone was speculating and guessing and talking about who he said that too. It didn’t help that you guys have been pictured together before this, that just added to it, basically making two and two equal four. “Fuck.” You said out loud, causing Calum to jump, lifting his head off your stomach.

        “What’s wrong?” He mumbles and plopped his head back down, causing you to lurch forward a little bit. He mumbled an apology as you gently swatted at his shoulder.

        “I think they found out about us.” You said, still scrolling through all of the notifications.

        Calum slowly lifted his head and placed his chin on your stomach. “They didn’t edit that out, did they?” You shook your head. He pushed himself up off of you and sat up, reaching for his phone, “Well I guess now would as good a time as any to go public.” He stopped and looked up at you, “If that’s alright with you?”

        You set your phone down and crawled into his lap. “Can I help you choose which picture to post?” Calum laughed and wrapped his arms around you while nodding and pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

[hollandroos]

Crashing Down On Me ✧ C.H

More of my work

Summary: You've put up with a lot from Calum- a little too much if you ask me. How far is too far? and when will you finally walk away?

"If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?"

Warnings: A fair bit of angst.

Words: 1.3k

When Calum asked you to go to his father's birthday lunch you swore today would be the day he finally asked you that one damn question you’d been waiting for him to ask for damn months now. 

Because people don’t just take anyone to their family lunches, right? Right? 

During the car ride, Calum told you that you looked beautiful, stating that your summer dress made your eyes pop and that he particularly liked the way you did your hair today. The compliments made your heart jump and you kept waiting. Desperately.

Ask me, I’m ready.

I’m waiting.

But when you tried to grab his hand apon entering his family home he was quick to brush you off. He continued to introduce you to everybody at the party as his friend and even more so, his cheeks turned a rather embarrassing shade of pink when you scooted closer to him to the point where your knees were touching whilst his mother was talking to you both.

You should be the one that was embarrassed, not him.

Slowly throughout the event, your heart sank more and more in your chest. No amount of sparkling wine could distract you from the way that Calum didn’t even look in your direction. Unlike on the car ride, where he’d had his hand on your thigh the entire time, eyes flicking to the passenger side where you sat every few seconds. 

When the two of you were in bed together he deemed he couldn’t get enough of you. Calums calloused hands had grazed every inch of your body and soul. You knew his deepest fears and he knew yours. You discovered his fear of being alone before he was even aware of it. You’d spent a portion of his last tour with him, missed key exams to be front row at his concerts. Picked up drunk phone calls at three am when he needed a ride home from parties. You’d listened to him talk about how badly he’d been hurt before and why he’d never let himself get hurt again.

“You make this celebrity thing a little less lonely, you know?” 

You were a fool to believe you meant more to him.

“I’m just not a relationship person. I don’t do relationships.”

The breaking point was when he left you alone in a room filled with strangers to talk to one of his childhood friends who had been invited. And he looked at her the way he should’ve been looking at you.

You were filled with jealousy. A sickening amount at that. But there you stood alone, a glass of sparkling wine in your hand as you watched Calum- your date look at another girl in a crowded room the way he only looked at you when the two of you were alone. 

Calum was not yours. But you so desperately wanted him to be. 

You decide to sit down at a nearby table, your fifth glass of wine had made your head hurt but you grab another, hoping this one would numb the pain a little better than the previous glass did.

Moments go by before the seat next to you is pulled out and Calum takes a seat next to you. 

“You alright? You’re very quiet today.” 

“I’m good.” You assure him, feeling yourself begin to choke on your words ever so slightly.

“You know you can’t lie to me, lovey,” Calum tells you softly.

He considers grabbing your hand for a mere moment before wiping the thought from his head. Instead, he takes the glass of alcohol from your hand and places it softly on the table. 

You want to throw the wine in his face and ruin the designer suit that he looks so good in. But that wouldn’t be very mature of you, so instead you play with the gold band around one of your fingers, refusing to meet the eyes of the boy who was so seemingly worried about you. 

“Cal?” You swallow, praying you don’t choke on your own confidence. "If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?"

Calum freezes, so you repeat yourself. Only a little louder this time. 

"If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people… will you do it?"

“I-I…” Calum draws out his answer, hurt eyes staring down at the table. 

He can’t even look at you and that alone is enough of an answer.

You purse your lips. Salty tears threaten to spill from your eyes and god - if you weren’t currently in a room with so many people you would’ve let them slip. Maybe that’s why you’re so thankful you and Calum are finally having this conversation in front of all his closest family. That way he can’t see you completely and utterly torn.

You grab the wine he’d previously taken from you and skull the rest, needing some sort of liquid courage to get up and leave. 

You knew that if you didn’t end it now you’d repeat this cycle for many more months. Allowing yourself to be used and discarded when necessary on Calum's part.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Y/n, please don’t go.” He begs quietly. Afraid anyone around him would hear the situation that was currently taking place. “Please stay.”

Time after time you’ve done as he asked. You’d turned away shifts at the bar when you desperately needed money to spend evenings cuddled up in his bed whenever he was available. Slipped away from family events early to meet for coffee because he asked you to. You’d cancelled girls' night to run away to a random hotel because he missed you. And for fucks sake, you’d cancelled dates with boys who were actually interested in putting a label on it when Calum had told you they weren’t worth it. 

But not this time.

You stand up hurriedly, pushing your chair into the table with such a force it makes the glasses shake and cutlery clash together harshly. Calum looks around to make sure no one’s paying attention. He catches a few concerned gazes. 

“You’re scared, Cal.” You hit him with the bitter truth. “You’re scared I’m going to hurt you the same way they did. You’re scared I’m going to get frightened off by the paps and crazy fans and you’re scared that you’re not worth it.” As you speak, Calum doesn’t try and stop you. “I have stuck around through everything. Everything. And I have waited for you to realise.”

“I almost left months ago you know? But Ash, he- he told me to stick around because eventually you’d realise what was right in front of you and you’d make me yours but I have waited for so long and I can’t do it anymore.” You swallow harshly. “I’m not just going to keep fucking you when it suits you.” 

Had he really been treating you like that? Calum ponders, like some object he can call on when he feels like it? 

“You’re more than that.”

You had become somebody Calum regarded highly. Your presence alone bought him joy and he thought he’d proved that to you. But Calum wasn’t a relationship man - he’d told you that before. The brunette doesn’t know what else to say. Your words, brutally fucking honest strike him like a knife to the chest. 

“Really? Because it doesn’t feel like it, Cal.” You collect your phone and keys from the table. “Don’t call me, don’t text. Just- let’s leave this here. Whatever this is - “ you point between you and Calum. “It’s done. Find yourself somebody else to fuck over. I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to realise what you’ve got anymore.” 

The part that hurts the most is that Calum just watches you walk away. Somehow after all that a small part of you thought he’d try and stop you from leaving and an even smaller part actually expected him to grab you and kiss you as you’d asked to prove his feelings.

But the bigger part of you knew that Calum would never do that much. He was hurt beyond repair and as much as you believed you could fix him - you couldn’t. 

Calum can do nothing but watch desperately as what was possibly the best thing that had ever happened to him walks away. 

[beyoncesdragon]

The disappointing Gender

Pairing:  Bestfriend!Ashton x Reader   

Warnings: shit ton of cursing, dont worry I love men, but women are just easier at times. Based on a real story, that shit really happened to me. 

Summary: Some men are just straight up trash. And what’s better than to vent about them to your willingly listening best friend Ashton. 

My Masterlist 🦋

(Gif credits: @ghostofmashton​)

“I don’t know exactly what goes through your mind when deciding to finally peel your limp body out of your comfy sheets, go through the usually long, self-esteem-damaging process of “getting ready”, find an outfit you would feel comfortable but not underdressed in and then leave for a party. Let me be honest, I mostly think: at least let it be worth all this. And then maybe something like; maybe I’ll meet someone. “Someone” carefully and fully on purpose undefined because you don’t want to get your hopes up and then be disappointed. But “someone” secretly being a guy, optionally a boyfriend even, but just maybe.

“However, now you are at that party, ready to meet new people and you take a look around. You see many people; some you think are pretty in your eyes some aren’t. But that’s okay, that’s only natural. So then after a time, when you have met a few girls you get along with, you spot the “someone”. And your friends somehow knew about him and all that bullshit and tell you the teeniest bit of bloody information alright? And he, on top of that, seems to be interested, keep that in mind.”

I stopped for a second, taking a gulp of my water. The few ice cubes clicked softly against the glass when I placed it back down.

“Alright. Now, you chat with him, all friendly funny business, you develop a sort of insider joke. It’s funny and you think wow, it isn’t all that difficult to talk to boys, amazing. Eventually, you also had a few, and I don’t want to say advantageously but it does help.”

A giggle fell from my bestfriends lips, but I decided to just keep going. “I will again be honest, I was a bit…inebriated if I may say so and if you would want to take me as an example. However, maybe you flirt for a while, and it really all goes well, so well that you would’ve started to become suspicious, since it was you after all. Continuing, because you’re bloody sloshed, you don’t suspect anything, even though if you would’ve just listened closely you could’ve totally heard fate snigger.”

I earned an amused hum from Ashton for that, picking up my glass again. “Further on, one of your new friends disappears with a guy and it’s okay for you but not for her friend whom you also are friends with now. That, because the other girl actually does have a guy eventually. But she isn’t sure. So you go get her, and you sit down with the girls outside to have a chat. Because it’s important that she still has a good night and so on. During that amount of time, you selflessly neglect your guy. Not that he is your guy in reality, but you secretly might have planned on making him your guy.” After a big gulp I placed my glass back down again, the ice now almost completely molten.

“Suddenly, that bloke walks out, raising a single hand at you as an obvious goodbye. And you sit here, startled and a bit dumbfounded because what the fuck is he leaving already. Quick note; it was hardly midnight, the clock stroke twelve maybe two minutes ago. So you get up, approach him and ask, why in the love of Jesus effing Christ he’s leaving already. His response; well. He hasn’t been blessed with the best of experience with women.”

And annoyed frown settled on my face. “I mean what kind of excuse is that? I haven’t only met them good guys either, but do you see me acting like an antisocial scaredy-cat? Nope sir, because I am not that superficial, and you shouldn’t be as well because I am not “women”. Also, have I mentioned that my friends told me, that he was total slag, like a fuckboy freshly bred. Best experience with women my fucking ass. However, back to my example; you then are still a bit startled because he slips that he has been cheated on and all that godforsaken crap. And in your woozy, naturally kind-hearted state you are in, you do feel sorry and possibly even apologise for being so bold. Also, because you don’t want him to think bad of you, he is very attractive after all and you have not given up your hopes just yet.”

A grin had now settled on Ash’s lips, as he leaned back with his drink, the attention still fully with me. “Then he says something like; but it was nice to meet you, and asks you to say your name again, and you do so. Naturally you do ask him the same thing…and you may have forgotten the name already.” I added with a frown, desperately trying to remember. “Something with F and it sounded French or such. Don’t know, not important anyways. Just like his existence.”

At that, Ashton laughed out loud, but wisely keeping quiet. “Yeah you just laugh…however, he then throws that horrid line; we’ll see each other again yeah?

At you, and you might think cool. But how for the love of fuck, since you don’t have anything except for a name. So the thing you do then is, you scrap all of your…I don’t know confidence from off the bottom of your rotten self and ask, if he wants to at least give you his snapchat.” Ash let out a whistle but I waved him off.

“I’m not done yet. So you ask. And he just ignores your question somehow, can’t really remember how. The whole time he’s walking away from you backwards, I guess towards the busstation and you have to follow him like damn mongrel…however. You end up leaving it be and sprinting back to your friends telling them what happened. Because they “know” him, they know his Instagram, so you decide to follow him. But he is on private so you got to send a request. Done with a few clicks, in approximately ten seconds. So now he is gone, you feel disappointment bubbling up, because fuck.”

Ash nodded slowly, looking up at me since I got up impatiently from his couch. “Sounds fun?” he said in a more or less questioning manner and I shot him a dark look.

“Buzz off twat, the best part’s only coming.” Ash rose an eyebrow, leaning back expectantly again. “Next morning you go and check your Instagram, somehow curious if he accepted your request and what do you see? He fucking declined it! This bloody wanker skipped my music, stole my attention and wasted my fucking time, four hours of it!” Ashton broke out in a fit of laughter, nearly spilling his drink.

“Comedy at its finest, certificated gold. Platinum even. Oh Jesus Christ. And that all has obviously not happened to you, you just purposely told it like it did right?” I huffed annoyed, dropping down again. “Never, as if stuff like this would ever happen to me. I mean, I totally understand mankind, it’s just that you can’t fucking use any of them.” Ash giggled, a dopey grin on his face.

“Come again?” I rolled my eyes. “I said, that you can’t fucking use any of you gentlemen. Men are so disappointing, like get a grip on yourselves honestly.” Ash grinned, nudging me with his foot. “Haven’t you just said that he should stop being superficial because of one woman?” he teased and I gave him an angry glare.

“Cheating and just generally being international disappointments is something else. I slowly start to believe that you guys are just born with that twat-gene. It’s almost not your fault. It’s probably the Y-chromosome, would explain why women aren’t like you guys.” Ash shot me an amused grin.

“I don’t know if I would surprise you saying that the explanation why men and women aren’t the same accurately is rooted in our genes. To be specific, it’s even a matter of just those two chromosome, the X-chromosome and the Y-chromosome…” I groaned annoyed, aiming a pillow at his head. I missed, but the message was clear.

“Smart-alecky dimwit, get off my back. I need emotional support, because member belonging to your sex has wasted my time and, in addition to that, ruined your all’s reputation.” Ash just hummed amused.

“Is that so.” I nodded, pouting bolshie. “Then I suggest, you listen to Ariana Grande’s Thank u Next and some Beyoncé, maybe also Rihanna. They’ll support your idea of men being trash immediately I am sure.” I flipped him off immediately, even though he had brought up a good point.

“I am kidding sweetheart. I know men can be idiots, but so can you females.” I couldn’t help but throw him a derisive look “Yes, males and females can be difficult at times.” I mocked him and he just shot me a lopsided grin. “Now you get off my back, annoying brat. But you are over him?” I shrugged.

“I mean, I was never actively involved with him, so I guess?” he nodded softly. “Venting felt good?” I nodded quickly. “Always does. Thanks bud.” He smiled warmly at me. “Everything for my best friend. Mind if I quickly call Kaitlin…” as he saw my face he immediately rolled his eyes. “Oh your little girlfriend huh? Young Irwin’s a little whipped?” giving me the finger he got up and grabbed his phone. “Shut up. I’m right back you bitter prick.”

I laughed sitting up again. “I am not bitter, I am happy for you Ash. Furthermore, I don’t have any problems with taken people or relationships. The problems I have, start when selfish and inconsiderate assholes rub in the fact that they have someone, and start gushing about them. When I, as an admittedly slowly bitter, but independent single person, couldn’t give a shit or two.” Ash grinned at me, shaking his head slightly. “I love you, you madwoman. Also, I am sure you’ll find your guy and we can do all those disgustingly cute things best friends do when they both are in relationships.”

I scrunched my nose. “Like what? Double-dates? In this case, I’d rather stay single Irwin, and now get lost you need to call your babygirl or whatever. Our ice cream is melting and our friends-day is not over yet. So you better hurry your red-dyed, slicked back visage up.” I responded harshly but with a loving lilt to it.

“On my way, woman. Love you, don’t eat my ice cream.” I just huffed, waving him off quickly. “Love you too, you ashy bitch.” I then almost choked on my water when I saw his expression at my words. He grinned and shook his head, pressing his phone against his ear.  

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

hey pumpkin!!! congrats again on 400!!! you deserve it ❤️❤️ could you maybe do 14 and 20 from the prompt list with cal please?🥺thank you!! x

Thank you so much! I’m so sorry it took me so long to write this.

Word Count: 485

Warnings: None

14. “I will always be there for you”

20. “I need your help”

You sat at a desk, surrounded by what felt like pounds upon pounds of paperwork. It didn’t help that you day had already been terrible. You spilled tomato sauce on your white shirt during lunch, your boss told you that since they let another employee go you were going to have to pick up the slack, and you had a splitting headache you couldn’t seem to get rid of. 

Calum was in a similar predicament, trying to come up with ideas for the studio tomorrow. Balls of paper were strewn around him and he felt like he was going to break down at any moment. It was just one of those nights. 

You realized around 10:00 that neither of you had eaten dinner yet, so you went to see if Calum wanted any. 

“Hey, babe,” you say as you knocked on the doorframe. Calum looked up from his hunched over position, smiling softly at your tired state. “Do you want me to make dinner?”

“That would be great. Need some help?” 

“Sure.” 

Calum shuffled out behind you, wrapping his arms around you when you made it to the kitchen. He took notice of how you were less chatty than usual, only really talking when he asked you something. 

“I need your help, babe,” Calum mumbled from beside you.

You only hummed in response, keeping your eyes on your food, obviously spaced out.

“Can you help me with some inspiration for a song?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

You made your way to the living room and sat down on the couch with him, laying your head on his shoulder and answering questions as he asked them. 

“You feeling okay?” he asked in a somewhat worried manner, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. 

“Uh, yeah. Just work stuff.” 

“What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Just . . .” you paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to stop yourself from breaking into tears. “One of my coworkers got laid off last week and my boss told me I needed to pick up the slack but I’m not getting paid any more for it and,” A tear fell, staining the fabric of Calum’s shirt. “I’m super stressed now and I just want to go to bed but I have all this work to do.” You let a few more tears fall.

Calum looked at you sympathetically, rubbing you back as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay. Why don’t you try to work with it for a week or two and if it’s still bad, start looking for a new job?”

“Okay,” you mumbled, not moving your head. “Thank you.”

You know I’ll always be there for you.”

“You’re the best, Cal.” 

“Only because I have the best wife.”

You smiled into his shirt. Even if you were having the worst day, Calum always knew how to make it better.

[soft-luke]

This is the life | Ashton Irwin

Y/N has always been living her best life. She loves to help people and sometimes works in her family’s coffee shop. Apart from the time she spends with elderly people, she is being offered a job that she can’t say no to. She is supposed to look after a passionate, yet lonely drummer whose life keeps slowing him down. Soon, she falls into a hurricane of feelings and problems.

Warnings: characters deal with depression, swearing, possible smut, physically disabled character

Prologue

Chapter 1

[alisonsfics]

masterlist

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Marvel Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Steve Rogers x Reader

Stucky x Reader

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Thor Odinson x Reader

Marvel Cast Masterlist

Chris Evans x Reader

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Various Celebrities Masterlist

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Spencer Reid x Reader

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Daveed Diggs x Reader

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Jasmine Cephas-Jones

[cals-eyebrows]

Prompt: kinky cal 😩😩 yes pleasee

Note: FUCKKKK anon!!!! you made me BLUSH!!!! I’m not good at this and maybe this isn’t kinky enough but here it is!!!

(This is smutty smut smut, you’ve been warned.)

****

You and Calum had been dating for awhile. It was a lot of fun, and you were slowly getting integrated into his friend group, and just last weekend you had finally met Mali-koa, his sister. Everyone in your life and his life were so sweet and supportive with your new relationship.

You were still getting used to each other, but it was all positive experiences. You thought it was cute how Calum had a strict bedtime routine: brushed his teeth, let Duke out, and then held Duke for at least 5 minutes, wishing him sweet dreams before putting him in his kennel for the night. Every single night. 

And Calum was learning about how you loved to listen to music as loudly as you could while you showered and the way you ate your food in a clockwise pattern.

This also meant you two were still exploring physically, too. This was an exciting time for you! You (and Calum, for that matter) took care to learn what the other person liked. Calum, despite his goofy exterior, you realized, liked to be a little rougher and often grabbed your neck while he pushed inside you.

You never would have guessed. 

*- * -*

You were sleeping when you felt Cal’s arm came from behind you, wrapping around your waist while he spooned you. You felt his hips push into your bum slightly, knowing he had just come from being out with the boys. You knew he was probably a little tipsy, and therefore, horny. You were a pretty light sleeper and the thunderstorms outside had been keeping you from falling into a deep sleep. 

“Hey, bubba,” You whisper, and in response, Calum leaned over to kiss your ear. You turned over so you were laying down facing each other. 

Cal still doesn’t say anything, just connects your lips in the dark. You find yourself getting lost in his kissing, and his wandering hands. 

You make out for awhile when Calum mumbles: “Can I turn the lamp on? I gotta see you, baby.”

“Okay,” You answer and soon, some of the room comes to life with light. It’s only your small bedside lamp, so half of your handsome boyfriend’s face is shadows. 

You continue to kiss, while Cal’s hand continuing wandering. You help him remove your ratty, overly large PJ shirt, a vintage Led Zeppelin t-shirt. With your skin exposed with just your panties on, this ignites a sense of urgency in Calum’s movements. He’s grabbing your boob and pinching your nipple, which leads you to moan.

His hand moves lower from your waist, brushing the sensitive skin that you’re dying for him to fully indulge. Calum using his  skillful pointer finger to move your tiny, sensitive bud in circles, causing your hips to buck up toward his hand, wanting more friction. 

You’re about to reach down to unzip Calum’s jeans (his shirt has been lost while you itch to get closer and closer), when he breaks away from you. “Wait, baby. I have an idea and it’s totally okay if you’re not into it.”

You take a second to mull this over, looking at Calum’s face. His cheeks are flushed and his lips look a bit pink from all the kissing. He looks beautiful. You’d do anything for him.

“Okay, what is it?” You ask, simply wanting Calum to be inside you and –

“What if we… film it?” 

You feel your eyebrows furrow together a bit without realizing you were doing it. Well, in theory, you had thought about doing this but now it seemed so nerve-wracking. What if Calum watched it over and thought you were shit? 

It was really stupid, but all of your unrealistic insecurities were bubbling to the surface. Calum noticed your hesitation but he cupped your face in his gentle hands. “Honey, it’s okay, we don’t have to. We can just keep going and I know it’s going to feel incredible.”

You find yourself shaking your head, feeling randomly brave, “No, it’s okay, Cal. Yeah, let’s do it. I’m game.”

Cal’s face breaks out in a huge grin and he’s leaping off the bed, looking comical with the tent pitched in his jeans, you think: That can’t be comfortable.

He leans over to grab his phone off the nightstand, and opens up his camera app, switching it to Video Mode. He then sets it up on your dresser, which sits parallel to the bed and is pretty good height. Calum spends some time setting up the phone just perfectly, setting up a book nearby to lean it on.

Finally, he deems it situated. “Okay,” he basically jumps back on the bed. “it’s recording. God, you’re gonna look so fucking sexy for me, baby.”

You smile into your kiss, trying to ignore your nerves. 

You spend the next few minutes kissing before Calum puts two fingers inside of you, stretching you slightly. “that’s my good girl,” He sighs, never leaving your lips.

You moan from the sensation, loving how he feels. 

Soon, he’s hovering over you and situating himself in-between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. You rest your legs over his shoulders while he pushes into you, you both moaning, loving this position. Calum fills you, then almost completely pulls out, and then pushing back into you. The large movement creates such a sensation that has you seeing stars. 

Calum has one arm holding himself up over you, the other playing with your sensitive bud. The feelings of being filled and the tingling from your clit has you overwhelmed, and you can feel your orgasm building. You let your moans flow freely, Calum following your lead. 

Finally, your orgasm hits and your grip on your boyfriend looses a bit. Calum’s thrusts are getting sloppier and sloppier, so you know he’ll hit his end soon too. He does, and holds you close while you feel pump into the condom inside of you. 

He holds you for a minute, and kisses your forehead. He pulls out, and throws the condom out before looking at you sprawled out on the bed. He grins, “now let’s watch that shit back!”