Imagines (One Direction, The Weeknd, Justin Bieber, etc.)

Calum and Mia: Calum Hood Imagine

This is an imagine for my dear friend Mia. Hope you love it babe, xo.

Mia's P.O.V.

Calum is getting on my last nerve.

He came home from the tour about two weeks ago, and since then he has done nothing but complain, hang out with the guys, play video games, and eat almost all the food in the house.

Currently I have no idea where he is. Not that I'm complaining though. I finally have some peace and quiet.

"Mia, babe? Where are you?" Fuck. I spoke too soon.

"I'm in here Cal," I call from the bedroom, where I was currently laying down. I hear the pound of his shoes against the hardwood as he follows my voice. "Calum! Why are you wearing your shoes in the house? I just finished cleaning!"

He appears in the doorway with an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry Mia. I forgot."

He fucking forgot. Okay. I guess that's fine then.

"What do you need?" I sigh. He flashes me his stupid signature smile. The one that means he's going to ask me for a favor.

"Babe.. the guys are coming over, so I was just wondering if maybe you could clean the living room up and then make us dinner?"

I scrunch my face up and stare at him. "I just cleaned, though." 

"I know, but like.. it's dirty, again," he shrugs. 

"Well, clean it up. It's your mess anyways." 

"But you're not doing anything anyways," he mumbles.

"Your point?" I ask, squinting my eyes at him and flicking a few box braids out of my face.

"Well, it's kind of your job.. as my girl, to take care of that kind of stuff y'know?"

"Excuse me?" I laugh humorlessly. "It's my what? My job? I'm sorry, but where was this in the application? I don't recall reading it in the fine print." 

"Oh come on, babe! Don't be like that. You know what I mean."

I stare at him, contemplating whether I should throw my laptop at his head or not. "What exactly do you mean, Calum?"

He huffs out a breath because he knows there's no way he's getting out of this one. "Well... I'm just saying since I work and stuff and you're the girl in the relationship, and you just stay home all the time.. Maybe you should take care of that kind of stuff," he trails off.

"What stuff?" I want to hear him say it.

"Cooking.. Cleaning.. Y'know the stuff that women are supposed to do."

This boy got me fifty shades of fucked up. "Get out."

"What," he chuckles. 

"Get out!" I'm in his face in seconds. "Get out," I shove him. "Get out! Get out! Get out!" 

"Babe, relax!" He laughs, trying to capture my hands that are flying into his chest. "What did I do?"

My skin is hot and I am about ready to strangle him when he says:

"I don't see the big deal. I just told it how it is."  

"That's it! Get out of my house, you ignorant, misogynistic asshole! Get the fuck out right now before I show you what a woman can do," I exclaim. I can't even look at him right now. I thought he'd know me well enough to know that I would not tolerate this bullshit.

"In case you haven't noticed, sweetheart; this is our house. I do pay for almost everything here. I don't have to leave. Plus, you haven't even told me what the big deal is," he shrugs.