emilyxvalentyne - Tumblr blog

[emilyxvalentyne]

Time

Paring : Massimo x Reader

Word Count : 3,999

Prompts : 5 + 8 “There Is No Us, There Never Was” & “Shut Up” (Prompts In Bold)

Warnings : Other Than My Terrible Writing, Swearing , Attempt At Angst, Mentions of Cheating, Massimo Being A Dick

A/n : This Is A Request From @shusrealm , I’m Still Trying To Learn And Tap Into Massimos Character Which Is Why It Has Taken Me A Minute To Start Posting But I Hope You Like It . 💜

A/n 2: Translations Are From Google So Sorry For Anything That Is Incorrect And Little Flashbacks Are In Bold

Lyrics In The Story Are From The Song Time : From The Show Star

Keep reading

[emilyxvalentyne]

Like the ocean

Not requested

Massimo Torricelli x reader

You were on day 93, you’ve been counting the days like a prisoner in a cell. Which wasn’t that far off only your cell was a mansion in Italy with amazing views, your favorite spot was the patio that overlooked the bright blue ocean, which is where you were currently lounging. You can imagine your best friends face when you tell her everything, this is exactly like those books she reads, kidnapped by a mafia boss who gives you a year to fall in love with him. You knew the first words out of her mouth would be. ‘Is he hot?’ Yes he was, but you’d never tell him that. The shopping sprees, yachts and lavish vacations you were already in love with, but the tall dark handsome gangster that came along with them, he was harder to get used to.

Before you could get lost in your thoughts Domenico interrupted, standing at the end of the outdoor couch you were laying on, waiting for you to acknowledge him before speaking, something all the workers did, waiting for approval to talk being the boss has its perks as he’s said before.

“Massimo will be back soon, thought I’d give you a heads up.”

Domenico says, eyes on the ocean just as yours were. His accent making the words seem better than the actual meaning. Massimo made him your assistant of sorts but you and Nico as you called him were fast friends, you’d often complain to him for hours especially in the beginning when his boss did nothing but piss you off. Nico always gave you more insight into the gangsters mind and made it easier to figure him out, which was welcomed in this situation.

Choosing to ignore the man that took Domenicos spot next to the couch, his hands shoved in his pants pockets. When Nico said he’d be back soon I didn’t know he meant this soon. Even though you weren’t looking at him you could feel him stealing glances at you from the side of his eyes.

“Did you cause trouble while I was gone?”

Huffing out a silent laugh at his words, you’d never cause trouble, unless it was to him.

“No, you can even ask Domenico.”

Now it was his turn to laugh or whatever was a laugh for him, adjusting his suit he sits down laying a hand on your leg, before you would’ve kicked it off, but that would just cause him to pin you down by your throat just to prove he could. It used to scare you, his quick mood changes but now they almost excited you, that’s what scares you now.

“We both know Domenico would lie for you, he’s seemingly more loyal to you than me since you’ve arrived.”

You can tell how much he dislikes your close relationship with the shorter man by the tighter grip on you leg. In his mind you were his and no one else’s you should be closer to him not another man.

“Or maybe I don’t cause trouble if you’re not around.”

“I knew that as well.”

The waves crashing against the sand below eases the silence between you both until his finger tips lightly brush against your cheek, looking at him for the first time since he’s been back. The sun casting over him making him look, nicer almost, gentle maybe.

“Did you miss me?”

You hated his accent, it was to beautiful and his looks added on top of that wasn’t fair. He almost reminded you of the ocean. Beautiful but deadly, can be rough or calm, the sound of the waves and the smooth roll of his voice, deep and undiscovered. Maybe that’s why you liked the patio, the view reminded you of him.

You’re lack of answer troubled him, he took your silence as a no. He’s trying his best to make you love him but clearly you don’t yet, he needs to do more. Sometimes he thinks you might love him, or at least not hate him anymore. You didn’t physically fight him as often, sometimes you’d even run you nails over his tattoos when you thought he was asleep or wasn’t paying attention. And he loved every second of it.

Admitting defeat, letting out a deep sigh pulling his hand away from you. Letting the shock show on his face as you grabbed his hand before it got to far. Intertwining your fingers together laying them both on your hip as you moved to lay your head in his lap still looking out. Hesitatingly rubbing through your hair with his other hand.

“Is there anything you wish to tell me baby girl?”

You know what he wanted to hear, it was written all over his face, and the way he leaned into your hand that was caressing the side of his face, tilting his head to softly brush his lips against your inner wrist.

“Is there anything you wish to tell me Massimo?”

His eye twitching at your mimic of his words of course you couldn’t make things easy and just answer him. He was about to remind you who you were talking to but held himself back. You respond to kindness over harshness, and with you showing him affection at your own will he tries a trick he had up his sleeve.

“Would you like to go to the beach?”

As soon as the question left his mouth you were jumping up, tugging at his hand to pull him along before he changes his mind.

Massimo has fallen for many versions of you.

When you’re tired and all you do is laugh, when you allow him to sit next to you and cuddle into him, even when you cause havoc and look at him as if you wish to kill him. But seeing you now, the wide smile on your face the setting sun making your skin glow as you ran through the waves. This was possibly his favorite version of you.

But that changed when you dove under the water and didn’t come back up. Quickly rushing in after you, he knew he shouldn’t have been that far away.

“Y/n!”

Yelling your name when he comes back up for air before getting dunked back under.

Pushing himself back to the surface his protectiveness kicking in full force as he tightly wraps you in his arms carrying you back to the beach. It wasn’t till he laid you down on the sand cradling your face in his hands while you’re shaking with laughter underneath him that he realized that you played him.

“I have never been happier and wanted to kill someone at the same time before now.”

Holding in your laughs, pushing back his wet hair that was sticking to his forehead. The worried look in his eyes showing he wasn’t actually that angry with you. Leaning down to press your noses together.

“It wasn’t funny.”

“It was for me.”

His huff fans across your face, you could tell he was slightly amused given the fact he wasn’t dragging you around like a rag doll while telling you how dangerous it was.

“You know I like it when you’re protective.”

He only hums as a response, hauling you up to carry you back to the house. Your legs wrapping around his hips you can’t help but smirk. Massimo sees this smirking himself.

“All you have to do is say the word baby girl”

He stops climbing the stairs, pressing you against the wall, licking his lips leaning in so you can feel every inch of him. Biting your lip tugging on the back of his neck so you can whisper in his ear, your lips brushing the shell as his ear as you do.

“I love you.”

Those weren’t the words he meant but they were so much better. Pulling back to look deeply into your eyes a rare smile appearing on his face he couldn’t believe you finally fell in love with him. He must’ve drowned and be in heaven because this has to be what it would be like.

“Say it again.”

“I love you Massimo”

❤️hope you guys liked if feel free to check out my prompt list and send requests ❤️

[emilyxvalentyne]

Fuente: @art.avr / Instagram

[emilyxvalentyne]

[emilyxvalentyne]

Tu silencio habló y dijo que tú no me amas, tu silencio habló más que si me hubieras dicho que no, que gracias, que no querías mi amor, que era muy amable, y lo peor, tu silencio me rompió en mil pedazos el corazón.

[emilyxvalentyne]

Descuida… Ya tendremos otra vida donde sí funcione.

- Para mi casi algo

[emilyxvalentyne]

Fuiste mi casi algo que lo fue todo, mi amor, corazón y mi secreto lleno de amor

[emilyxvalentyne]

Yo me refiero a un "casi algo" como...

A un amor con quién pudiste ser

inmensamente feliz para el resto de tu

vida pero se quedó a la orilla de ese

presente, que ya fue y por lo tanto

nunca se concreto nada...

-Juevecito.

[emilyxvalentyne]

Necesito que me sueltes, porque tú y yo sabemos que no me vas a escoger.

-sweet

[emilyxvalentyne]

La probabilidad de coincidir contigo es escasa, pero aún no pierdo la ilusión de encontrarte y que me veas como me solías ver, que me sonrías como me solías sonreir, aún no pierdo la ilusión de volver a lo que nunca fuimos. Y seamos lo que siempre quisimos, lo que siempre ocultamos bajo el disfraz de ser solo amigos.

Siempre cerca pero lejos a la vez, siendo siempre un casi algo.

-Cyn

[emilyxvalentyne]

"Not all men..."

Yeah your right José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal would never treat me like this

[emilyxvalentyne]

say it with your hands | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x afab!fem!masseuse!reader 

word count: ~5.6k (how did this happen)

rating: 18+ minors dni

summary: post tlou/we are in jackson. ellie convinces joel to see the town masseuse. it goes mostly okay.

warnings etc: smut, awkward!joel, joel being kinda mean to himself, age gap implied, involuntary boners, lots of sexual tension, oral (m receiving), sunshine!reader, pet names (sweetheart, sugar, sweet girl, darlin’), little bit of POV hopping dw about it, probably bad massage technique descriptions idk what i’m doing sorry. NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: the first of the two soft and sweet joel fics! we are fixing our man’s back whether he wants it or not. god this was sooo cathartic to write actually as someone who wants nothing more than to give this man some goddamn peace. and also as someone who wants to bite his tummy. 

special shoutouts to vee, ziggy, nicole, sam and @pedgito who gave me some much needed advice with this.

inspired by this ask <3 

Joel Miller does not need a massage. 

Sure, his lower back aches most hours of the day and the tension in his shoulders makes it hard to raise his arms above his waistline and fine, being on his feet for too long sends shooting pains up his spine and into his neck. And yeah, okay, maybe right now he’s hunched over the kitchen table after reaching down to tie his boot lace, frozen where he stands with a palm pressed to his back, groaning out a symphony of agonized grunts.

But he does not need a massage.

Keep reading

[emilyxvalentyne]

[emilyxvalentyne]

Password Is Your Birthday | Calum Hood

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Y/N never doubted Calum's loyalty, however, once controversial photos were leaked, their relationship was put to the test.

Warning: angsty, mention of alcohol

Word Count: 2 582

Requested: yes

Author’s Note: Thank you for the patience! Lately I've experienced a somewhat burnout, and couldn't write anything normally. That's really frustrating when it happens, so I couldn't post the work earlier – it's really important to me to be sure in a story, to be fully satisfied with the result. Hopefully you'll enjoy this one! Remember, your activity helps so-so much! ♡

There was nothing better than holding his hand in hers. To reflect a smile on his face. To feel the heartbeat of each other every time they were close. 

Sometimes Y/N thought she only imagined him. She created him like a puzzle she used to make in the evenings when was very little. Calum was someone the girl could call perfect. Of course, everyone had their flaws, however, when you loved someone the flaws seemed quite insignificant.

She loved him. He was her second breath, her reason the girl believed in happy endings. It was even funny, amusing and little absurd how two people, who were scared of commitment before, were suddenly searching for love in each other. 

Calum adored her. He enjoyed her bright laugh in late afternoons, when they were watching some silly comedy. Praised Y/N's little sad face each time he’d forget to buy something from their shopping list or finish a pack of crisps that supposed to be for both of them. He was guilty, he knew it. 

But Y/N was guilty, too. For entering his life and turning everything upside down. For not warning that her smile would change everything in him. The musician felt alive next to her, and she knew it. 

"Don’t look at me like this," Y/N chuckled, resting hands on his shoulders. Calum led her in a dance, and even though the room was full of strangers, it felt as if there were just two of them.

"Why so?" Cal giggled back, taking his time to observe the girl’s beautiful eyes. They were shining, and he wanted to believe he was the reason of it. 

"You make me shy," she smiled wider, and Calum only laughed at such confession. He doubted it was the truth, because his Y/N could be naughty, but not shy. Not at such moment at least.

"I make you shy? And that’s it?" he asked, smiling.

Y/N made an innocent face only and shrugged, so Calum couldn’t help himself but leave a kiss on the lips.

"I’m going to get us another drink," he whispered and pulled away gently, when the music ended.

Y/N nodded, following Calum with a gaze. It felt like the smile didn’t leave her face for the whole evening. Perhaps, she needed to be careful with that thought, as the girl was about to receive a message that could change everything she believed in.

Cal just disappeared from the sight, when the girl’s phone vibrated. Y/N lazily took it out of a purse and checked the notification. It was a blank email with a photo attached, nothing else. The girl rolled the eyes and already wanted to push a button "spam", seeing unknown address, as noticed on the picture preview outlines of her boyfriend. Even when the photo downloaded, and the girl could see Cal with someone else, she still thought it was fake, a silly prank. Calum was loyal, and he wouldn’t cheat on her. They were both very open about their relationship, and Y/N never had any doubts about him. The girl didn’t have a good look at the photo, when the phone vibrated again. She sighed  annoyingly and opened another email, where few more photos were included, as well as a link to Google Drive. Curiosity, or maybe already doubts, took over. Y/N looked around and hurried to a more quiet place, away from the guests. She supposed to celebrate Michael’s birthday, like everyone else, but her festive mood disappeared just at the snap of fingers.

The girl seat on a couch and open the link. Surely, she knew it wasn’t safe to open a link from unknown sender, however, it was Google Drive, so the girl doubted it was just spam already. Y/N was too intrigued – and not in a good way, so she took the risk. 

The girl saw few dated folders, the most recent one was created last week. Just like she suspected, there were photos inside – Calum, hanging out with some ginger girl. The stranger was clearly older than Y/N, but looked good, she though. Y/N couldn’t find anything provocative, however, by the look of it, those two clearly had a good time together, laughing and even cuddling each other. 

"Here you are! Are you hiding from someone? I barely found you."

Y/N looked up and saw Calum standing in front of her, holding two cocktails in both hands. The girl didn’t even have powers to give Cal at least a short smile. She stood up and took the glass, placing her phone in his palm. Confused, Cal glanced at the screen.

"What is it?" Y/N, drinking the cocktail through a straw, could see how the boyfriend’s face changed, slowly. "This is… This is not what you think," she almost chocked at such a banal phrase. "Where did you get this? Did you follow me?"

The irritation and panic was written on his face, and Y/N started to feel sick of Cal all of a sudden. The girl took her phone back roughly, fighting with a desire to splash the drink on his face. 

"Y/N…"

"Unknown admire sent it to me," she finally replied, looking at his eyes and still not being able to believe that a person who she trusted the most failed her like that, lied to her. "Why, Calum? You could just tell me if you didn’t feel the same anymore, why to play this game?" the girl couldn’t tell if she was hurt or simply disappointed. Y/N thought they were not just a boyfriend and girlfriend. It always felt like there was something more than that, they were both friends and lovers. A little family in their own world.

"It’s not a game. Look, I didn’t cheat on you."

"Yet?"

Cal sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling.

"Do we really gotta do this now? Right here, with all your friends around?" he asked, hoping to make her come to the senses, however, those questions made Y/N nothing, but angry. 

"How dare you to ask me this, like it’s not important?"

"Because it’s not!" Calum snapped, leaving his glass on a tray of a passing by waiter, Y/N did the same. "These photos… It’s not… What it is."

"Then what is it? Sneaking out at nights, hugging her? Do I look like an idiot?"

"Look I can’t tell you, but––"

"Unbelievable," Y/N laughed shorty, but she wasn’t really having fun at that moment. The girl headed to the exit of the room, feeling like she couldn’t stay there any longer.

"Please, don’t go," he almost whispered, tiredly, and hurried up to follow her. "Y/N! You can’t just leave, all our friends are here, let’s not do it now."

"I’m sorry, but this is more important to me now. You can stay, as I already understood that seeing someone else isn’t a big deal to you," the girl smirked, calling a taxi.

"I’m not seeing anyone," Calum repeated, even though he knew how it all sounded, when Y/N literally had photos, proving a completely different thing. 

"You keep telling me this, but you don’t explain what it is then," the girl said, grinning sadly. "Before lying you needed to come up with a truthful story, Calum," she smirked and got into a car.

The musician followed her, as he couldn’t just leave the girl like that. Cal had no idea how to explain himself; he was very mad at the person, who leaked those photos. Calum obviously didn’t know that someone was taking pictures of him, otherwise he’d be more careful. However, at that particular moment the guy didn’t care as much about the photos going public, – after all, it was only a matter of time when they’d be all over the Internet – as about his relationship with Y/N. Calum knew he messed up, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t fix it. 

The way home was accompanied by silence. Y/N had a lot to process. She couldn’t forgive him cheating, and even though the answer was obvious, everything wasn’t as simple as the girl hoped. Despite a clear disappointment in their relationship and even some hate towards Cal, she still loved him. Y/N couldn’t imagine her life without him. The girl thought everything was alright between them. Was is it all really a lie? Was it her fault? Why was Cal seeking a company of someone else?..

By the end of the ride she was so tired of her own thoughts that all what Y/N wanted was to go to bed and wake up happy again. The girl knew it was doubtfully possible to hide from the bitter reality, but she was not ready for another drama that evening.

However, when Y/N went to their bedroom, Calum was not planning to leave it like that.

"Just an hour ago you wanted to talk, so let’s talk," he chuckled, watching Y/N taking off her heels and going to bed. "We aren’t going to bed until we talk about it," Cal said though his teeth, feeling a wave of anger spreading all over his body.

"I don’t have powers to talk about it anymore," the girl replied calmly, covering herself with a blanket. "You should be happy, you’ll have more time to come up with an excuse," she smiled sadly.

"Y/N, I didn’t cheat on you. And I’m not seeing anyone but you," Cal said coldly, taking a seat on the edge of their bed, so he could look in the girl’s eyes. "I swear to you. I love you."

"Then who is it?" Y/N echoed. She wanted to believe Calum, she desperately wanted to believe him, but he wasn’t making it particularly easy. "Are you saying those photos were fake? A photoshop? At the days when you were coming home late because you had night photoshoots with a band? You know, I trusted you, I didn’t even have any doubts, didn’t have a thought to call guys and ask if it was true. I trusted you," Y/N repeated. The tears were stuck somewhere, and the eyes were still dry. She felt simply empty.

"The photos are real," Calum admitted, as there was no point to lie anymore. "But those meeting weren’t dates."

"Give me your phone," Y/N whispered, realising the guy didn’t confirm that he had night shooting sessions with the band. Because he didn’t have them, apparently.

"I can’t…" he whispered back, not looking at her anymore.

"Calum," the girl swallowed, staring at Cal, who seemed like a lost kitten. "Give me your phone," her voice trembled, but she insisted.

The guy looked up and slowly took the phone out from a pocket of his jacket. He hesitated, but Y/N snatched it from his palm immediately.

"Why can’t you just believe me?" the musician chuckled sadly, watching her entering the password – it was her birthday. The password on her phone was his birthday, they did it as a joke, but both kept it in the end.

"Would you believe me?" Y/N asked, opening chats and scrolling his messages, trying to find a familiar face. Cal had a weird obsession with having profile pictures for all his contacts. Funny, but the girl even hoped that the contact she was looking for wouldn’t be there or would remain without a picture. However, Y/N didn’t even need to scroll that far to see an image of that ginger girl.

Opening chat, Y/N saw some photos the stranger was sending Calum. They were sketches of a ring. There were different kinds, Cal’s replies were mostly short as "I like the first variant better" and "can we try it with a blue stone?". They discussed time of their meetings, and Cal would apologise they’d have to meet that late again, explaining it with his crazy working schedule and "too smart girlfriend".

"What is it?" Y/N whispered and looked up at Calum. The guy didn’t move from his place and was watching her every move, while she was reading the messages and checking the photos.

"How do you think?" Cal asked, and it was his time to be disappointed. He wanted it to be a surprise. "That girl is a jewellery designer," he took his phone back roughly, switching off the screen. "I couldn’t find anything in stores, so I contacted someone I knew . We met just few times, and only because I needed to see work in progress with my own eyes. It’s not that easy just by a picture or a sketch, you know," the guy sighed and stood up.

"Calum," Y/N sobbed, feeling like an idiot. She was blaming herself at that moment, however, the reaction the girl had before was rather understandable, too; besides, Cal couldn’t normally explain himself. But how could he? Again, he wanted it to be a surprise.

"I’ll sleep in a couch today, I guess," the musician chuckled sadly, putting the phone back to his pocket. Calum was staring at Y/N’s face, knowing that it wasn’t just her fault, but both of them. And that idiot, who leaked the photos at first place.

"Look, I’m sorry, I thought––"

"I know," Cal interrupted. "But next time trust me what I say."

Y/N jumped off the bed and brushed tears from the face, once Calum left the room.

"Trust you?" she outraged, getting mad that the guy behaved that way. Sure, Y/N messed up, too, but she had her reasons. "You’d react completely the same way if you were on my place, Calum!" the girl caught his hand, so Cal turned around. "It’s not fair. I apologised, I know you wanted to make a surprise, and it’s… it’s such a wonderful surprise, but you can’t tell it’s my fault only! I didn’t believe at first, but what could I do?"

"I know," Cal sighed, cooling off rather quickly, and pressed the girl against his body, cuddling Y/N softly. "I’m sorry," he closed the eyes for a moment. "I just got so upset that my surprise was ruined. It was such a long journey, and you found out like that. Accusing me as well," the guy left a short kiss on her soft cheek. "I love you. Y/N. I’d never cheat on you. You do realise I want you to be my wife?" Calum chuckled, and the smile was sincere.

"Now I do," the girl smiled a bit, still feeling a bit sad that she reacted like that and ruined the surprise. "I love you, too, Calum," the girl said and stood on her toes to kiss the musician on his lips.

"Does it mean you’ll marry me?" he asked through the kiss.

"It does," she cuddled Cal’s neck, once he took her on his arms.

"Y/N Hood, sounds good, huh?" The guys touched her nose with his and then laughed all of a sudden.

"Hey, what are you laughing at?"

"I’m just thinking that this could happen only to us, really," Cal sighed, smiling, and kissed Y/N again. "You know, I gotta admit, you’re extremely hot, when you’re angry. Even though you behaved like a brat."

"Uh, only I did?" the girl squinted, so the musician hurried up to apologise with a short kiss on her neck.

Apparently, that evening they both would never forget for several reasons.

taglist: @dgrangaa, @gracieboogirl

– gifs aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner, found them here @ghost-of-you – 

© writersdare | all rights reserved

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

Masterlist | Taglist

[emilyxvalentyne]

Pero cariño, no podemos forzar a la gente a elegirnos

[emilyxvalentyne]

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.

[emilyxvalentyne]

a long week

literally can not get this man out of my head. Calum hood x reader (she/her pronouns) just soft cuddles because I am weak 

She leaves a lamp on in the living room as she makes her way to bed, knowing that even though Calum had planned to be here earlier this evening, he probably wouldn’t make it back until the early hours of the morning. It stings, just a little, but it’s become expected with the album release drawing near and the countless interviews and promotions scattered across the country for the band. She’s proud of him, of all of them, she is; she just wishes it didn’t always have to take her love so far away. 

Her body aches from the extra hours she’s been picking up at work just so she doesn’t have to be alone in their empty home. It doesn’t usually bother her, Calum’s been going on tours since before they started dating. Something about this week has just been dragging. The band was only supposed to be gone for two days, just a quick interview in New York City followed by a radio appearance. It’s turned into the whole week, the boys flying everywhere but home. She had taken a few days off work for when he was supposed to be back, but after hearing they couldn’t make it back just yet, she picked up doubles at work. Anything to keep herself occupied until she could be in his arms again.

They could have another last minute interview, or maybe their flight was delayed. It could be a whole number of things that’s keeping her boy away from her, but she tries not to think about it as she lays in their empty bed, curling onto his side where his scent is just beginning to fade. Maybe he’ll be here when she wakes up, maybe he’ll be here when she gets back from work tomorrow. Maybe it’ll be a couple more days, she thinks as she drifts off to sleep. 

Instead, she’s woken up by a slight shift in the mattress that has her bolting up in bed, away from where the dip is pulling her. It’s still dark, but she manages to make out a figure hovering just by their bed and a familiar chuckle echoes around the room. “You’re the lightest sleeper I know,” Calum murmurs in the dark just before she launches herself at his chest.

He catches her with his arms wrapped around her, holding her close as he slowly lowers them both back into bed. “Two days my ass,” she mumbles, sleep still at the corners of her mind, rubbing her face over his chest. 

His hands cup her cheeks and lift her face up to his, their noses touching as he whispers, “I’m sorry,” and kisses her before she has a chance to reply. His lips are chapped and his fingers are calloused where they rub across her cheeks. She breathes out a sigh through her nose, resting her weight against him until he pulls away. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she tells him, pressing her lips against his cheek, his stubble rough under her lips. “You forgot to shave today.” 

In the dark, she makes out his hand rubbing over his own face as he hums. “Didn’t have enough time if I was gonna make our flight,” he answers, his hand now coming to rub her shoulder. “‘m fucking exhausted.” 

“Then sleep,” she whispers, her head comfortable on his chest where it belongs. His hand rubbing her shoulder trails down to grab her arm, draping it across his stomach and she giggles, pressing herself closer to him, as close as she can get that’s still comfortable for both of them. As it is, physical touch is one of both of their love languages, so it really feels like they’re never close enough, even pressed together in their entirety. 

“I missed you too much to sleep,” Calum answers, but she can hear in his voice how badly he needs to sleep. She does, too, if she’s being honest, and she wonders if she would be able to have someone cover her shift tomorrow for them to catch up. “Tell me about your week.”

She raises her hand from his stomach to press her hand to his cheek, thumb trailing across his skin. “In the morning, Cal,” she tells him, shifting a bit more to get comfortable. “I’ll make french toast, okay?”

He groans as he rolls over, trapping her between his body and the mattress as he presses kisses all over her face. “Who told you to be so damn perfect?” 

Giggles escape from her lips as she accepts her fate, melting into the mattress as Calum showers her with love. “Thought I just came this way naturally,” she manages to get out between laughs. Calum hums an agreement before settling down, his head resting on her shoulder as her hand cards through his soft curls. It’s been getting longer, and she’s been begging him not to cut it again. 

“French toast and morning cartoons,” Calum mumbles just before he falls asleep, and she follows shortly after, taking some extra time to feel him in her arms.