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clumsy-wonderland · 3 years

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Little Bird of Betrayal - Part 4

Pairing: Fili x OC Word count: 5043 Applied warnings: A minor struggling with some mental instability and heavy personal stuff and the damaging consequences of some terrible parenting, but it’s not all angst. The author’s quick note: My favourite Durin finally shows up in this one, I hope I did him justice ^^ As usual, if you want to be on the taglist, let me know!

Tagging: @fizzyxcustard @faeriefics @jester-junk @i-did-not-mean-to @guardianofrivendell

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One day, after years of endless nagging and unrelenting questions, Brinn had finally told her how her mother had died in a half-drunken haze of boiled over anger, unstable in her grief, screaming about how she had torn the poor woman’s womb to shreds, how her sister had shivered with a fever and bled out on the birthing bed - as many others had done before her.

Murderer, killer, witch-child.

It was the first time that Kit had wondered if her aunt hated her, a thought that had often repeated itself over the coming years and made tears sting behind her eyes, pooling on her waterline, but she always refused to let them fall. After all, in the Snake-Eye’s mind, crying was a weakness only practiced by spineless halfwits and no self-respecting Unburnt would ever give in to the humiliating temptation of weeping, especially not in front of someone else, and so she hadn’t. Instead she just sat there as Brinn lost herself in the black pit of tormenting sorrow, closed her eyes and allowed the regret to kill her slowly, chipping away at the last pieces of childhood that still remained.

If Brinn had ever cried, she couldn’t remember it.

Kit used to annoy the Snake-Eye to no end, the untouched side of that mutilated face twisting into a crooked snarl when she stumbled through the forest, her feet catching on drooping roots and tangling in fallen branches. She got yelled at for ‘stomping about like a mindless mule’ and Kit wondered if Brinn hated her while she practiced her footwork until she was able to glide across any surface, as soundless as a silver phantom.

She talked too much and got scolded for it, desperately trying to fill the empty stretches of heavy silence and had eventually looked for a compromise. For a while she bended the rules, testing and pushing the limits, wanting to see how far she could go before Brinn would snap, dipping her toe in the water, so to speak. She had shortened her endless monologues to handfuls of sentences, finding the middle ground in which she discovered something that resembled muted tolerance and Brinn heaved deep sighs, but indulged her, giving short and clipped answers that caused Kit to wonder if she hated her.

Your fault, your fault, your fault.

Shut up.

Brinn used to leave her at the Buckling’s farm from time to time, when she had been a child, and Mrs. Buckling taught her how to sew the holes in her clothes shut and gave her honey-glazed biscuits after she fed the cows. Kit would be afraid that Brinn wouldn’t come back, for surely she hated her, but she always returned with a solemn expression and a purse full of coins, another layer added to the wall, those differently coloured eyes emptier than they had been before. It would take Kit weeks to find a new routine, a new rhythm to their interactions, prodding and picking until she found a way to co-exist without causing the spark of Brinn’s anger to flare up into a flame.

She would listen to Brinn’s booming voice and Mrs. Buckling’s screeching, muffled through the walls, catching snippets of their conversation as she sat in the tub, her eyes and nose sticking out from above the water, trying to hide, her breath making the lukewarm liquid ripple.

“Where are you going?” Kit had asked once when Brinn came to fetch her.

“I need to go see someone,” Brinn explained as she dabbed Kit dry with a towel and squeezed the water from her thick curls before she wrapped her up tightly.

Kit had held the towel close to her, curling up in the relative safety of her cocoon, like a caterpillar. “A bad someone?”

That time Brinn didn’t return, days stretched into a week, Kit grew sick with worry and ran to the window every few minutes, pressing her face against the cold glass and peering down the path that faded away in the distance, disappearing as it swept through the orchard.

Please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll never make another mistake again, just return her to me.

She hates you, she left you here, she’s never coming back.

Stop it.

Eventually the Snake-Eye had dragged herself through the door of the farm, tripping over her own feet, her face sallow and waxy, slack lips cracked, bony limbs bursting out of torn clothes that hung in forgotten shreds around her, stained with blood.

They had laid her in a bed and wrapped her in bandages, but then the swelling and red skin around the wound’s edges had formed into a yellow crust, cloudy fluid leaking from it and giving off a horrid smell. Brinn had vomited down her own shirt for days while Mrs. Buckling tried her best to disinfect it and keep her temperature down, forcing tears of poppy down her throat so she could work without her patient squirming in the nightmares of feverish hallucinations.

Kit had done what she could and spooned soup into pale lips, but Brinn couldn’t hold the liquid down and threw up, right back into the bowl, and Kit wondered if Brinn hated her.

She hates you.

Kit had looked down at Brinn’s bandaged chest and the hair blacker than midnight cropped short around the ears, the thick braid gone, her shame visible for all those who knew the meaning and hadn’t dared to ask when she could finally start plaiting her own hair.

Learning how to close the gashes on her shirt from Mrs. Buckling came in handy, because over the years Kit’s small hands with dainty little fingers had stitched Brinn’s torn flesh together many times. She hoped that, one day, she might sew some humanity back into those gauges as she worked with hands that grew steadier as the seasons passed, no longer looping the silk thread through skin so sloppily.

One morning, when they stayed at an inn built on stilts above a frozen lake, Kit had gone to find Brinn at the crack of dawn, her mind still lingering in the distress of her night terrors. Her bare feet had padded blindly through the dark corridor, feeling around for the last door. She slipped in on the balls of her soundless feet, nearly tripped over the discarded clothing that had been thrown to the floor in the haste of heated passion and found the Snake-Eye in a display of tangled limbs and forgotten sheets twisted around two pairs of legs, like a serpent trying to choke the life out of its victims.

She had been thrown quite unceremoniously from the room and asked Brinn later what she and Reed had been doing, receiving a slap to the side of the head that left her ears ringing, wondering if Brinn hated her.

She had questioned Reed about it that day, on the damp planks that made up the narrow walkways of Lake-Town, trying to tame his dark curls that had twisted itself into knots, braiding it down his back, wrists sticking out from her favourite tunic that she had started to grow out of. He had frowned, his hands stilling from where they had been busy with cleaning out his pipe and he disagreed, told her that Brinn was simply broken beyond repair, but none of it had been her fault.

Kit hadn’t really believed him.

Slowly, over time, she learned the way Brinn ticked and moulded herself into a shape that seemed tolerable to the Snake-Eye, until she stopped wondering if Brinn hated her so often and started asking why she didn’t like her current form, no longer recognising the face that stared back at her in the mirror.

Kit considered herself to be a good judge of character with an ability to read Brinn, almost effortlessly dissecting and examining the many layers that were her mind. By now she knew when the tension between them was brewing, frustration slowly breaking through the surface, long before Brinn had realised they were angry with each other. After studying her aunt for so many years, she had perfected this skill - or so she had thought.

Once she had been able to read Brinn like an open book, but lately it was as if the sloppy handwriting scribbled on the pages that were her mind were written in a foreign language she did not understand. It was like a code she could not decipher, a secret she was hiding from her. Brinn had grown more distant in the last few days, her smooth edges sharpening and blackened, like burned parchment still smouldering with heat.

She had understood her once, able to predict her movements, but as Brinn’s core shifted and twisted, she became less predictable and Kit could no longer follow her train of thoughts. It was as if she had grown an extra head, one of them looked like Brinn and the other did not.

And so, reluctantly and hesitantly, Kit had left Brinn to her own affairs during the days they had spent in the secluded valley of Rivendell, thoroughly enjoying being able to let her guard down for once within the safe haven the Elves had provided.

She would wake late, sinking into the softness of a feather matrass and silk sheets leaving her feeling unusually refreshed, comfortable beds a welcome sight after their tedious journey on long roads winding through unyielding landscapes.

Then hot water would be brought up from the kitchens, dumped into the great bathtub and scented with fragrant oils. She would practically jump into it with a content sigh, allowing the heat to loosen her aching muscles and stiff limbs, seeming to break down a lifetime of stress. She was always rigorous, scrubbing her skin clean until it was raw and red, pulling a lice comb through the tangles in her hair, inspecting every inch of herself to make sure no dirt lingered behind unsuspecting fingernails.

She wouldn’t leave the bath until the water turned milky white from the oils and the heat started reshaping her skin, causing her fingers to crinkle. She dabbed herself dry before slathering herself in the salves the Elves had gifted to soothe the sensitivity of her reddened flesh, feeling cleaner than she had been in months and being glad for it, for in the company of flawless immortals she would have attracted a great amount of unwanted attention in her previously unkept state.

Then she would eat, so much that it made her belly swell uncomfortably round, a strange and almost painful feeling that she rarely experienced as she dug into the vegetable pies with both hands. Later, when she recalled the taste, her protruding stomach would growl and wail with the unrelenting cravings for the hearty treat.

The smidge of spicy garlic in the rustic filling seemed to have been planted, grown and harvested for the sole purpose of complimenting the roasted walnuts that gave a crunch and subtle nuttiness to the crust, soaking up the moisture and making it wonderfully chewy. The grease would run down her fingers and dribble on her lap as she nibbled at the spring vegetables, the centre of the whole dish, bursting with flavour and deliciously creamy.

Then, like every day, she would walk amongst the rows of young hazel trees that grew on the rolling slopes leading up to the archery range, rustling their dry leaves in the sunlight while nuts fattened on their branches, growing plump and splitting at their seams. She would find a spot near the river being whipped into a frenzy by the breeze blowing in from the south, carrying the powdery scent of lavender whose violet flowers rose above the foliage.

It would be rather difficult to concentrate and she regularly lost her balance, flailing about for a moment, trying to find her centre as she steadied her wobbly legs. Distracted by the buzzing of bees that circled the sky in lazy loops before they turned on their wings and settled into the delicate flowers, the sounds of arrows finding their targets in the distance, too nervous to practice under the watchful eyes of the Elves who had mastered this skill a century before she had crawled from her mother’s womb.

Murderer.

She would remain there, watching the sun slant through the thin mist and gazing eastward towards the Misty Mountains, the snow white upon their peaks, at whose roots the perils of the world lay hidden - the true entrance into the wild. However, today was different, because the voices rising in the valley were unfamiliar and lacked the shimmering elegance of the Elves. She strained her neck so she could catch snippets of their conversation as her legs grew sour, her knees locking.

They appeared at the bottom of the winding path that curved through the trees before it disappeared as it ran into a fold of the hills, the mist seeming to open hesitantly before them, the heavy footfalls in large boots so loud that she would have been able to locate them effortlessly in the debts of midnight. She wondered if Brinn would hate them too for ‘stomping about like mindless mules’ or if the anger was only reserved for her.

One was blond and the other dark, night and day, black and white, and yet there were similarities in the sharpness of their cheekbones and the delicate curve of their lips, the shape of their eyes and the angle of their jawlines, their foreheads wrinkling in the same way when their eyebrows rose in unspoken questions.

“Are you all right?” the blonde asked when they drew near the riverbank, watching how her arms spun as she struggled to stand on one leg. “Are you in need of assistance?”

She shook her head. “Brinn says that I’m a clumsy fool and not ready to start training with swords, she says I must find my balance first, that a warrior can stand on one foot for days with no water or food,” she explained, then her polite smile faded. “But I hope a few hours without food will do, the vegetable pies are too delicious to give up.”

The blond chuckled, his face splitting into a broad smile. “Ah, right, I see. Very fearsome,” he assured her, blue eyes dipping lower to study her bare knees, scabbed over from where she had scraped them raw. “Must you do that here? You’ll tumble right into the river and catch a cold.”

Kit snorted, her eyes widening in disbelief and she placed her hands on her hips in a challenge, hopping on her left leg so she could turn around and face them fully. “A warrior is not deterred by the thought of getting a cold,” she said, exasperated by the question, her gaze flittering over their short and stocky forms. “I’ve never seen a Dwarven archer.”

The dark-haired one grinned at her, toothy and mischievous. “Oh, yes, we’re far and few between, because we have to pass a very difficult test and almost no one survives,” he said, his face falling, seeming to cloud over with memories, voice lowering to the soothing rumble of a well-experienced teller of stories. “Have you ever been north of the Blue Mountains?” he asked, waiting for her to shake her head before continuing, his tone solemn. “Well, far to the north, in the Icebay of Forochel, you’ll find a few giants. They’re as tall as a mountain and can crush you in their fists, if you want to be an archer, you’ll have to find one, armed with nothing but a bow and arrow.”

The blond narrowed his eyes at the other, but said nothing.

“And then?” Kit asked curiously, leaning forward as far as her unsteady form would allow without tipping over.

“And then, if you manage not to get eaten by them, you must bring one of their heads back as proof that you have passed the test, otherwise they won’t let you become an archer. I lived with them for a month, they elected me their leader, that’s why I grew so tall.”

The blond heaved a sigh and punched the other Dwarf in the shoulder, drawing a surprised yelp from his lips. “You can’t say those things to a lady,” he scolded.

“Oh, I’m not a lady.”

“A thousand apologies,” the dark-haired archer said, rubbing the spot where he had been struck and sweeping her an immaculate bow, coming up with a grin. “Are you a boy then?”

“What?” she called out in surprise. “No, I’m a girl!”

“All right, enough of that,” the blond said, his lips threatening to curl up until he bit down on them hard. “Stop teasing her and knock it off with your stories.”

“Oh, I see, you were jesting about the giants. Brinn says that I am particularly gullible,” Kit chuckled, watching how the dark-haired Dwarf adjusted the quiver of freshly fletched arrows slung over his shoulder and she waved an absentminded hand towards the fields beyond the hazel trees. “Are you going to practice?”

He nodded. “I am. Want to come?”

Her eyes went wide with surprise and a bright smile tore across her child-like features, lowering her leg to the ground so she could stand on two feet, leaning forward on her toes before dropping back on her heels, bobbing up and down in excitement. “Yes, please!” she squealed in that high-pitched and dreamily distracted voice of hers, rippling with excitement.

The blond glanced at the other, seeming hesitant and uncertain. “I don’t think your mother would like it if you came with us.”

“Brinn is not my mother,” Kit said. “She’s my aunt.”

“Oh, well, where is your mother?” he wanted to know. “She might have something to say about this, you better ask her permission first.”

“Dead,” Kit said, shrugging, watching their faces fall. “She died when she gave birth to me, apparently. Brinn always says that it proves I was a struggle from the beginning.”

Murderer, killer, witch-child, it’s all your fault.

The blond stared at her, parted his lips and then changed his mind, scratching the back of his neck and sharing a look with the other Dwarf that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “A lovely thing to say to a child,” he grumbled, finally having found his voice.

She frowned at them, cocked her head to the side, decided that they were clearly simpletons and wondered if Brinn would hate them for their slow minds, or if that was just when she was being dense. “Not really, I always thought it was a bit rude.”

“No, I meant- oh, never you mind,” the blond said, sighing, a sympathetic smile gracing his suntanned features. “Very well, are you done with your warrior footwork already?”

“I think so.”

“Then by all means, trod along,” the dark-haired archer grinned. “What’s your name?”

She stepped forward, stretched out a hand and then curled up her fingers before shoving a fist deep into her pocket, hiding it from view. “Brinn says I shouldn’t be telling every stranger in the street my name, got a smack for that last time.”

“But you already told us Brinn’s name, so where’s the harm in knowing yours?” the archer asked, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“I suppose that’s true,” she mumbled, weighing the options in her head and eventually she straightened her spine when she made her dicision. “I’m Kit.”

“Fili,” the blond said.

“And Kili,” the archer added.

“At your service,” they announced in unison as they dipped down, bending at the waist, buckles rattling and braids falling into faces, a well-practiced routine.

She shrunk back from them a little, wrung her hands nervously, felt the heat crawl up to her face, the copper of her cheeks blushing bronze. “I’m no one important,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze down to her feet, and she kicked a pebble with the toe of her scuffed boot that had grown tight around her feet, reminding her that they had to be replaced soon.

“That’s how we greet everyone,” Fili explained, motioning for her to go ahead.

The path curved towards the south, around the foot of a small hill, lined with trees of which the leaves were touched with red and gold, sailing rootless in the pools of flowers at their feet and eventually drawing aside. Here, in a field of spring grass, lay the archery range, dotted with targets and looking like a bald head rising from the encircling Bruinen river, rumbling loudly as it crashed against the sleek rocks before tumbling down into a steep crevice.

“Your aunt doesn’t like us much, does she?” Kili questioned as they trudged along the riverbank, looking for a quiet spot. “Sometimes I can feel her eyes digging into my neck, but I never actually see her.”

“She’s sneaky, like a ghost,” Kit said, shrugging as she took a seat on the grass, leaning over so she could tap her fingers on the water. A few fish swam towards the top, hoping for food, their little mouths gaping and they nibbled at the empty air. “But I’d be more worried if she was kind, that’s when she’s planning something. Don’t worry, Brinn doesn’t like anyone and even if she can tolerate the company, she always needs a moment to-“ She fell silent, not entirely certain which word would describe it best, rolling through her vocabulary as she tried a few out on her tongue, deciding on which one tasted better, “-warm up.”

She watched her rippling reflection.

She was not an unpleasing or ill-proportioned creature, in fact, she was quite a sweet-looking thing, but she was plain, so very plain. There was no allure in the honest gaze from her kind eyes, no sensuality, no flirtatious whisper of sin lingering in her soft features, no tale of fire in the uncertain smile on thin lips. She was supposed to be a girl almost passing into womanhood, instead she still looked like a child - awkward like a child, innocent like a child, vulnerable like a child.

She seemed to lack everything the warriors from the east had, tough and resilient, an ironclad sense of determination their hallmark and mulish stubbornness their shield, much too headstrong for anyone’s liking. Like Brinn, who could light a fire under someone and turn them upside down and command they dance to a new tune, unyielding in course or purpose, demanding results.

She pulled her fingers back from the water and watched the fish disappear below the surface.

“It’s not bad,” she said after Kili buried an arrow into a target.

He looked down at her in surprise before turning to his brother, a crooked grin creeping across his face. “Are my ears deceiving me? It’s not bad, she says, you hear that, Fee?” he laughed, pulling another arrow out of his quiver, fingers playing with the feathers. “I’ve had far more years of practice than you, littlest lass,” he teased.

“Being old doesn’t mean that you’re a good shot,” she protested.

He grabbed his chest, jaw falling, pretending she had wounded him there. “Old? I’m not old, seventy-seven is nothing for a Dwarf! By the time you’re my age you’ll be grey and wrinkly, stumbling around the place with a cane, and I’ll still be young, tall and uncommonly good-looking.”

“No, I won’t,” Kit said. “Brinn is fifty-seven and she is nowhere near going grey yet.”

“What?” Fili barked out. “I thought you were a child of Men, a very short one, sure, but still.”

Honestly, this again? “I’m a girl!”

Fili looked a bit taken aback, but then he smiled at her. “I never doubted that for a second,” he promised, his voice a soothing rumble, kind and careful, as if he was speaking to a toddler who had somehow gotten hold of a blade and was trying to get her to put it down. “You’re clearly a girl. What I meant was, that I assumed you were a child from the race of Men,” he clarified.

“Of course not, I’m an Unburnt.”

“And when do the Unburnt start stumbling around the place with a cane?”

They started out as thin babes with sickly skin, creating pitiful wails and unidentifiable whimpers, lacking the strength to stretch the sound into a proper cry. If they managed to survive on what little food the land of the Unburnt provided they would age, slowly, until they reached maturity and levelled out into long-lasting durability. They clawed through the years with little change on their features, only starting to look middle-aged when nearly two hundred years were within their grasp, but no one really knew what happened after that stage and Kit had never seen an old Unburnt. They died young of starvation in the dry heat of the foodless wasteland or in the seemingly endless battles with warring tribes - raiding, reaving and raping as the nomadic hordes moved through the villages.

Who knew how long they could go on with enough food to fill their bellies and the safety of a comfortable home, or when their hair would fade to whisps of grey before losing all colour, skins wrinkling underneath the cruel pressure of time? Kit certainly didn’t know, not really.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “But Brinn says that the dark Elves of the east are our ancestors, they gave us long life.”

Fili hummed, nodding along with her words, his form towering over her seated position and he dropped down on the fragrant grass, leaning back on an elbow, recognising her discomfort and making himself smaller in her presence, seeming sharper than she had given him credit for.

She watched him gather up sticks and leaves, piling them up into an unsteady tower that toppled regularly, but failing efforts to build a decent structure didn’t seem to deter him. He simply started over, lacking the graceless sulking that the dark-haired archer displayed when his arrow missed the centre and Kit wondered if Brinn would hate him for his childish outbursts.

Unlike Fili, Kit didn’t feel the need to keep her hands busy in order to entertain herself, she was content with leaning back and letting her mind drift, arranging her thoughts and then rearranging them. After living her entire life in stretches of long silence, carefully stepping around Brinn, it seemed like second nature to be with her own thoughts.

“He’s not that tall,” she whispered after a while, tearing through the quiet, watching Kili stomp towards the target to retrieve his arrows, using a tone that was usually reserved for the sharing of secrets and smiling when she watched a broad grin crack Fili’s face in half. “I’m not done growing yet, Brinn says I might be taller than her one day.”

“This Brinn certainly seems to be spewing out a lot of nonsense,” Kili sneered playfully as he returned with a handful of arrows, dumping them back into his quiver, smiling in triumphant trickery when he noticed her frown. “I’m just jesting, littlest lass, don’t worry.”

She nodded solemnly. “Ah, yes, I get it now. Sarcasm,” she mumbled. “I’ve heard about that.”

Kili snorted and held out his hand, presenting his bow. “Do you want to try?”

Her own bow was sleek and delicate, made by the Elves for their children, fitting perfectly in her small hands and slender fingers, light enough for bony arms to pull back the string, but this one seemed like a great task. It was sturdy and broad, strong wood adorned with geometric designs, a thick string that would surely break her back if she dared to stretch it.

Brinn had spent so much time trying to teach her, growing impatient when she failed, correcting her stance and kicking her feet further apart, barking orders at her that caused her hands to go slick with nervous sweat and made her miss the target. This unfamiliar bow might demand a different approach that could derail her teachings and Kit wondered if Brinn would hate her if she had to start all over.

She hates you, she has always hated you.

Just shut up.

“What?” she asked, looking up, noticing that the Dwarves were staring at her, studying the way her eyes had glazed over, watching her as if they expected her to do something and her muscles suddenly twitched in realisation. “Oh, right!” she yelled out, not seeing how the two cringed when the sudden high-pitched squeal echoed through the immense valley, the sound shivering up the steep sides. “Yes, I’ll try it.”

They looked at her the way others often did, trying to decide if she was jesting or if she had descended into madness and it would have been kinder to drag her out back and put her out of her misery like a lame horse.

She bit down on the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood and felt tears stinging behind her eyes, already pooling on her waterline and threatening to spill down her face, desperately trying to smooth her features out into dull indifference and reveal nothing, silently cursing her foolishness. She wouldn’t cry, she never cried, she wasn’t allowed to cry and so she closed her eyes, swallowed her grief and pushed it down, wondering if Brinn would hate her if she cried.

“I’ll teach you,” Kili promised, an uncertain smile playing with the corners of his lips. “It’s not all that difficult.”

“I know how to do it,” she snapped at him, wanting nothing more than to melt into the ground, but having no such luck, suddenly feeling very small as they watched her with such obvious pity. “I have my own bow, you know, this one is just different. It might be too heavy.”

“Well, go get yours then,” Kili said. “We’ll wait.”

He’s lying.

She turned suspicious eyes towards him and frowned. “You’ll be here when I come back?”

Fili nodded at her, scrunching up the sharp angle of his nose when his tower of sticks and leaves toppled again, taller than it previously had been. “We won’t move an inch,” he assured her.

She smiled, turned on her heel, ran down the path to retrieve her bow and wondered if they liked her.

No one does.

#fili #kili #the hobbit #fili x oc #fili fanfic #fili fanfiction #hobbit fanfiction

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jaynovz · 2 years

Note

For FFWF 💌 Okay, Jay, now tell me some of YOUR wildest Sunder City headcanons!! Quid pro quo, Clarice

Oh no, the rebound! D: jk jk

Okay uhhhh

Well first off I just realized I don't know if these count as headcanons they're just random assertions hm. Also they are all about sex bahahaha

-Fetch has a magic kink.

-Fetch/Hendricks petplay... yeah just. yeah. They did that, that's a thing.

-Fetch is a furry, a monsterfucker, a sub, and a repressed bisexual. Is that a headcanon... it's just canon innit....

-Oh, here's a non sex one! All of Fetch's various folks have some kind of penpal/phone tree system where they give updates on what he's doing and/or talk shit about him.

-I stole this from Brinn: Exina and Loq do a fair amount of gender affirming/transition type surgery.

-Genie-ManforHire-Werewolf sandwich happened on the camping trip and it involved some painplay with both wolf teeth and the burning cursed skin.

Can everyone tell I'm a smut writer? Is that obvious? Anyone?

Thanks for asking, I hope you do not regret your decisions lmao

#thoughts #ask game #nijinskys #sunder city verse #one foot in the fade #the last smile in sunder city #dead man in a ditch

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sohemotional · 2 years

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Brinn + 5, 8, 12, 15

5. A scene I wish we had of them

I wish there was a scene of them actually just interacting as friends, without any other characters. A proper scene of them actually having a conversation. Just an extremely weird conversation, maybe Brittany telling him one of her theories and him being like "Oh yeah true that's accurate" even though it's totally ridiculous but only Brinn understand what they're talking about. Or Brittany giving him help with his homework but both of them realizing that they haven't done the homework and were expecting the other to know the answers. Or them making a plan to idk, raid area 51, or prove some other conspiracy they both have. They'd be very chaotic and definitely share a single brain cell. They'd be a way better version of what the Brittany and Sam relationship was supposed to be.

8. Who I think is the ”crazier” one

Oh Britt for sure in this friendship. Finn is gullible and naive but Britt is a whole other level of eccentric.

12. A word to describe them

Sunshine

15. If I would want to be friends with them

Yeah absolutely. They'd both be the most fun people to talk to because they'd always say the goofiest/most random things and they'd be very chill.

#Brittany and Finn #Finn and Brittany #Brinn #Finn Hudson #Brinn friendship #Friendship ask game

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trash-but-respectable-trash · 4 years

Text

The brothers and Diavolo reacting to MC doing a sexy dance choreography for a talent show

(This is inspired by the choreography of Pony by Brinn Nicole on Youtube)

As usual, Diavolo was bored one day and decided to have a talent show for RAD and kinda forced you to do a number. He gave you complete freedom and asked for it to be a surprise for him and the brothers. You decided to do a dance performance since you used to dance in the human world and would sometimes use the RAD dance studio. You chose “Pony” by Guinuwine because you liked the beat of the song even though it was quite an explicit song.

Lucifer:

- He already knew about your dancing skills since he caught you one time practicing some choreography when he was looking for you

- His mind is still racing with images of your body moving to the rhythm of the music

- When the music starts and you get low, he already knows he’s in for a great show

- Seeing you grinding on the floor and doing the split is enough for his trousers to feel a bit tighter

- If you make eye contact while doing any of your moves, be prepare to be met with his bedroom eyes��

Mammon:

- Mammon knew you danced in the human world, you would sometimes talk about it to him and his brothers and he would sometimes sneak on you when you were practicing

- That’s why you don’t know how you manage to keep him away long enough for you to choreograph and rehearse your performance without him barging in the dance studio

- When he sees you on stage, he’s really confused, you didn’t tell him your were performing tonight?

- When the music started, he was fine, but the moment you slide to the floor and start grinding, he suddenly can’t think about anything else other than the way your body is moving

- He’s completely mesmerize and he’s also blushing like crazy

- He’s not even thinking about how he should be the only one watching you dance like this

- When you get off the stage and come to him, he can’t even look you in the eyes

- He will definitely think about your performance later tonight when he’s alone in his room if you know what I mean

Leviathan:

- When Levi first learned about your dancing skills, he immediately wanted you to help him perfect his dance moves so he can recreate his favorite idols choreographies

- He had no idea your were performing tonight, and he even stopped playing with his switch when you appeared on stage

- When the music begins and you start doing your dance, he is flustered but he’s seen worse from you

- That’s what he thought before you do your first split

- Suddently he can’t think straight anymore and he’s literally not moving or breathing

- He stays like this until you snap him out of it after you’re done with your performance

- You definitely got yourself a new, very dedicated fan

Satan:

- He knew about your dancing, but he didn’t really care about it honestly

- Well, he cared about it, because it’s something you love doing, but he never actually asked you to dance for him

- When he sees how you move on the stage though, he kinda feels dumb never asking you to show him what you can do

- The whole time he has his usual smirk on his face, but deep down his desire for you is burning bright

- When it’s over, he quickly leaves to get some fresh air before someone notice his arousal

- When he’s calm enough, he comes back to congratulate you properly on your performance

Asmodeus:

- Of course Asmo knows you dance! Actually, the first time you talked about it, he told you he also enjoyed dancing in clubs, but you quickly told him it wasn’t that kind of dancing you were doing back in the human world

- After that, you intrigued him and he ask you to teach him some new moves to impress other people at the club

- You also did some tik toks dance with him for fun, which he then uploaded to his devilgram

- He actually knew about your performance tonight because he loves gossip and always seems to find a way to know everything that’s going on with everyone

- He acted like he didn’t know anything though, since he didn’t want to ruin the surprise for anyone, even if it was quite hard for him to keep his mouth shut

- If you told him, he could’ve helped you with you hair and makeup!

- When it’s your turn, he’s already ready to cheer you up like “YES GIRLLLL!! SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE!!” with pom poms he seemingly pulled out of nowhere he probably pulled them of his ass

- He’s always thought you were super hot, so he isn’t reacting like his brothers are

- It also helps that he already saw you do all of these moves, even the split

- He once asked you to show him how to do a split, (even though he already knew how to do one) just because he wanted to see you do a split multiple times

- At the end of your performance, he’s the first one to congratulate you and he even gives you flower, that he also probably pulled out of his ass

Beelzebub:

- He knew you danced because you asked him if RAD had a dance studio when you first arrived in the Devildom

- He actually proposed a while back, to help you work out properly in the gym and in exchange he wanted you to show him a really challenging choreography that would help him with his cardio and flexibility

- He didn’t know about your performance tonight and he was too busy stuffing his face with snacks to see you come on stage

- When one of his brothers nodge him to ask him to stop making so much noise while eating, he finally look up and notice you on stage

- He suddenly don’t feel hungry for the snacks in his hands anymore, he’s hungry for another type of snack

- He’s basically drooling everywhere with his mouth open, he can’t keep his eyes off of you

- When you’re done and come off the stage, it takes all of his will power to not grab you and bring you to his room

Belphie:

- He’s been locked in the attic for the most part of the school year, so he didn’t have much time to learn more about you and therefore, he didn’t know about your dancing skills

- It also didn’t help that you thought he wouldn’t care about it, since he’s tired all of the time and dancing takes a lot of energy

- Since he wasn’t aware that you were performing tonight, he didn’t bother staying awake and basically slept trough out all the performances until Satan woke him up when your turn came

- He’s suddenly very awake and his full attention is on you

- Where did you learned to dance like that??

- This boy is very confused and makes a mental note to ask you about it later, but for now he’s just enjoying the way your body moves

- When you come down, he says something in the lines of “not bad”, but inside he’s a mess and he will certainly have very nice dreams about you tonight

Diavolo:

- He obviously knew about your performance tonight since he’s the one who asked you to perform tonight

- He didn’t know what you were going to do though

- So when he saw you on the stage without any prompts or mic, he knew you were going to do a dance performance

- He already knew you used to dance in the human world and he’s even the one who gave you full access to the dance studio at all times for you to practice whenever you wanted

- He really wanted you to feel comfortable in the Devildom

- But he never saw you dance and when you suddenly dropped to the floor, grinding, doing splits and generally looking hot, he also feels his pants getting tighter

- He never expected you to look so sexy when dancing and he can’t help but get images of you in inappropriate settings

- Thankfully, he has a lot of practice in the art of acting like everything’s fine and he doesn’t let anything show on his face

- He’s thinking that he can’t have these thoughts, you’re his exchange student after all, but at the same time he’s a demon who often acts upon his desire

- And right now he really wants you to come by his castle after the show

#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo

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asherinn · 5 months

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34 today and I have a pimple on my chin when does this suffering end

#brinn talks

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brinnanza · 2 years

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hold on wait wait a minute hold on the banksy ova got suddenly heartbreaking so this villain's quirk is making everyone laugh like ms joke right and it works on everyone endeavor starts laughing like a maniac bakugo starts laughing like a maniac it completely disrupts whatever they're doing and puts them flat on the ground it even works on a fucking robot somehow....but when shoto gets hit

his shoulders are shaking and his breath is kinda stuttery, but he is silent. a quirk that took down ENDEAVOR, the world's most joyless man now that nighteye is toast, in an absolute fit of loud laughter but shoto just BODIES it that's fucking heartbreaking man like he is so used to forcing himself to be quiet that he does so instinctively and even worse the thing he's stifling is laughter it's like a fuckin metaphor for shoto not getting to experience any fucking joy

#the animation Choice for this #he looks like he's about to be sick and I don't think that's coincidence #who did this I just want to talk #I'm too high for tragic shoto implications right now okay I can't #this was supposed to be silly!!!!!!!!!!#brinn watches bnha

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calmlftv · 4 years

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en l’air. - c.h. oneshot

description: calum hood x dancer!reader. cal sees you dance and immediately becomes obsessed.

word count: 4.4k (i’m sorry jdfg)

warnings: none? some tension but nothing serious.

w/n: this was a requested piece! thank u to the anon who requested it ❤️ also, for your viewing pleasure, please enjoy this video of Youngblood choreography since it’s mentioned in the piece itself; full credit to Brinn Nicole Choreography for that! and thank u to everyone who had to listen to me talk about this for 24 hours (u know who u are), y’all are the real ones 🥺

taglist: @spicycal @castaway-cashton @irwinkitten @n-ctarinenga @notinthesameguey @blackbutterfliescal @ashtonsos @loveroflrh @bestyearssos @treatallwithkindness @bestyearslftv @another-lonely-heart

****

“Y/N!”

Jojo’s voice echoed through the room, all eyes turning to you as the choreographer lifted a finger and gestured for you to come over.

Once you were close enough, the winning smile on Jojo’s face was full of mischief. “You got this choreo down?” When you nodded she started to move, scooting past you towards the phone connected to the speaker system. “Then it’s your turn. Solo.”

You chuckled, getting into the starting position as Tim’s camera focused on you. A hush fell over the room as the air settled, giving Jojo a nod right before the music started.

And suddenly, you were transformed, the movements you had been practicing all day coming to life as the music swirled around you. You weren’t in LA anymore; you weren’t even sure if you were yourself. All you knew was the tempo and dynamics of the lyrics, the emotions of the song becoming your own as a story was told with each movement.

From a young age, it had been clear to your family that you were passionate about dancing. After expressing your disinterest in sports and academics, your parents were dumbstruck; they had genuinely thought you would like at least one of those things, considering your mother was the brains and your father was the stay-at-home-brauns. However, after one particular year of taking you to see a ballet, they quickly noticed the shine in your eyes as the dancers floated across the stage, beaming grins on their faces as they signed you up for dance classes the very next day.

Over the years, you learned everything you could from different genres of dance, your body becoming fluent in the languages as you grew up. You walked in eight counts, elegance trailing just behind you everywhere you went as you moved. It took everything within you to not dance down the hallways at school, practicing whatever routine was giving you a hard time as you went from class to class.

After graduating high school, your family moved to LA for better work opportunities; you quickly found a community of dancers you loved and fell in with them, moving into a house with some of them and attending all the workshops they did. When they all started getting big name jobs it didn’t bother you, instead pushing you forward until you were just as talented as they were.

Now, you were well known with the community. Choreographers like Jojo Gomez and Kyle Hanagami sought you out for their workshops, sometimes even asking you to learn choreo ahead of time to demonstrate to everyone at the shops. Tim Milligram quickly became a friend of yours as well, as he was almost always at the workshops, sparkling lenses capturing everything before he posted the edited videos on YouTube.

Where you were now was where you had dreamed of being as a child. It wasn’t worldwide fame like some people wanted, but it was more than enough for you. To some, you were a nobody, but to the ones that mattered, you were equivalent to the Queen of England, and that was everything for you.

As you finished the routine applause broke out around you, your friends all throwing hair ties and shoes at you to celebrate how well you had done. As you came down from the performance high, Jojo almost tackled you in a tight hug, laughter escaping both of you as you caught yourself before you stumbled back.

“Jesus,” Jojo breathed, pulling back and cupping your face in her hands. “How have you not started teaching these things yourself?”

You beamed, Jojo’s arm moving around your shoulder as she guided you away. She called the next dancer up and grabbed her phone again as you sat down with your friends, eyes trained on the dancer as you took in every move.

At the end of the workshop you gathered up all your things and walked out with your friends, the nearest diner calling your names as you all laughed and joked around. Your usual routine for this eventually brought you all back to your home, each of you taking turns showering and settling in for the rest of the night.

***

The tour bus bumped over another pothole, the uneven cement rattling Calum awake for the upteenth time that evening. He sighed and dragged his hand down his face, officially giving up on any amount of sleep as he turned to his back.

His hand landed on his phone and lifted it to his face.

1:47 a.m.

He held in a groan as he grabbed his AirPods, slipping them into his ears and drowning out the sounds of the bus as it moved. He left his phone plugged in and opened his YouTube app, hoping that maybe some of the channels he was subscribed to had uploaded new videos he could binge until they reached their destination. However, in his sleepy state, he tapped the wrong video, a beat starting over his headphones as his brow furrowed in confusion.

Calum was about to exit the video when he saw the dancers, eyes captivated by their movements as the first group faded in. His mouth dropped open at some of the talent he was seeing, eyes locked on one dancer in particular during a solo performance.

It was obvious to Calum this dancer had invested in the music, the way they moved bringing emotions out of the man as he focused intently on their body. Now invested in watching more of these videos, he let this one play out, letting YouTube autoplay to the next one as he kept his phone close to his face.

Hours passed with Calum trying to find more videos with this dancer in it, finally finding one that he watched a second time. This time, they were in heels, the sweet sounds of Niall Horan’s Slow Hands playing against his eardrums as they moved so elegantly.

Lucky for him, his video finally had the Instagram handle for this dancer he was now obsessed with, the man immediately switching apps and bringing up their profile.

They were genuinely stunning in the photos they would post, his thumbs slowly scrolling through most of the photos on their profile before he finally gave them a follow. He knew some fans would see that and make assumptions, but he didn’t care; he wanted to see more of this person and their talents, wanted to consume all forms of media they were on just to see them move.

“Calum.”

The man jumped at the sound of Luke’s voice, pulling out an AirPod as he tugged the curtain to his bunk aside. The tall blonde was leaning over and yawning, running a hand through his hair.

“We’re stopping, mate,” he said, Calum now hearing the sounds of Michael and Ashton shifting in their beds. “Need anything, better get it now.”

Cal nodded, climbing out of his bunk and giving a big stretch before pulling on some sweatpants. He climbed out of the bus and found Michael waiting for him, the usual routine whenever they made a stop.

“Hey, Mike,” Cal said, nudging his best friend as he unlocked his phone and showed him the Instagram page he still had open.

His best friend took his phone and raised an eyebrow as he scrolled down the page, opening some of the photos and giving them a look before he handed the device back. “They’re cute. You followed them?”

Calum nodded as Michael grinned, giving him a nudge with his elbow. “Trying to make a move, pal? Get yourself a little someone?”

Calum chuckled, shaking his head as he nudged Michael back. “I don’t think so, Mike, just think they’re talented. Wanna keep up with that.”

Michael nodded and wiggled his eyebrows, making Calum shove him playfully as he broke into a laugh.

“What’s goin’ on up there?” Ashton called from behind them as Luke trailed behind him. Michael turned around, walking backwards as he spoke.

“Cal’s got a crush on a dancer!” he yelled back, making Calum groan.

“It’s not a crush!”

“Whatever you say, mate!”

***

“Jade,” you called, your phone shifting slightly in its place. “What do you want for dinner?”

Your Instagram live audience immediately started to chime in with suggestions as you picked up your phone, holding it out in front of you as you read the suggestions.

Your best friend came out of her room and followed you, half of her now in view of the audience as you moved into the kitchen. “Someone’s suggested we order out instead of making something, but where’s the fun in that?”

Jade chuckled as she started rummaging through the cabinets, taking in everything they had before she turned around and looked at you. “That might be a good idea,” she said, gesturing to the nearly empty cabinets.

“Oh shit,” you sighed, putting a hand on your hip. “You’re right. Take out it is!”

Jade chuckled as she picked up her phone, already dialing your favorite place and putting in an order for the two of you as you made faces at your audience.

It was a quiet night and you had been bored, the Instagram live feature staring you in the eyes as you finally decided to just do it. You had taken the time beforehand to look cute but comfy, hoping the cute man that had followed you a few months ago now would join.

The notification had confused you. You weren’t sure who Calum Hood was at first, noticing the blue check next to his name as you did your investigation into his Instagram profile. After a quick Google search, however, you quickly learned everything you needed to know about him; his band had written one of your favorite dance songs and a few others you had put on your driving playlist that you vibed with the most.

So, that mixed with how attractive you found him to be, you obviously had to follow him back.

He didn’t post much and you were fine with that, always knowing when he was online by the comments he would leave when you posted a new photo or video. It was normally a cheeky comment followed by a set of emojis, something that always brought a light blush to your cheeks and giggles from your friends.

Whenever he posted, you always did the same, both of you liking and commenting on photos relentlessly. You kept up with his band through his stories, even popping in on the livestream on release day just to see him dancing with his dog.

He was absolutely adorable, and while you wanted to reach out and say hi in private, you knew he probably wouldn’t even see it; besides, he’s a rockstar and you’re a dancer. Talk about being worlds away, right?

Right?

Suddenly, you snapped back to reality, a name appearing in the stream of comments that made your heart skip. You quickly grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the news, being careful to hide it from the camera as you slid it across the counter to Jade.

He’s in the live, and said I look cute.

She picked up the note and raised an eyebrow out of view of the camera, a devilish grin on her lips as she immediately opened her phone.

“What are you doing?” You asked her, standing up straight as soft music started playing over the speakers in your living area.

Jade grabbed your hand and your livestream, dragging you both into the room. “I want to teach you and your livestream a new choreo I’m working on. Maybe you can even help me make it better.”

You scoffed at that, knowing her undeniable talent as she set everything up. The song was Youngblood, the smooth notes practically fogging up the windows on their own as you started to learn.

With a quick break for food once it arrived, you and Jade taught your livestream how to dance, laughter and music taking over both of you until you finally ended your live.

You were covered in sweat, the soft sheen of it against the lights in your home obviously as your chest heaved.

“Did you really need help with that choreo?” You asked Jade, your friend sprawled out in a starfish against the floors.

She flashed you a smile. “Absolutely not,” she stated, sitting up. “But lover boy was watching, and he needs to know you have sex appeal.”

You coughed, choking on a bit of spit at her words. “Jade!” You said, your best friend cackling as she scrambled up to her feet.

“Love you!” She said as you chased her away, the woman dipping into her room and locking the door behind her.

You groaned, blushing deeply as you hid yourself away in your room.

***

Tour life had become routine for Calum, as it always does, but the nights off always left him a bit bored. Being in strange cities left him without much to do this close to the end of tour, but he thoroughly enjoyed opening your livestream and watching you laugh.

Michael must have been a psychic, cause what started as an appreciation for your talents has become much more than that. When you laughed he felt himself smiling, his eyes crinkling as they do whenever he got to hear you speak. He was crushing hard, his post notifications on for the dancer he had fallen for over the months as he kept himself busy with his passion and job.

When he saw the notification of your livestream he immediately jumped in, joining and smiling immediately as he saw your face fill his phone screen.

You were smiling at your friend, resting your cheek against your hand as you leaned on what looked like a kitchen counter. You were looking absolutely adorable, the smile on Calum’s face hardly fading as he gained the confidence to send a comment.

He saw your eyes light up as you looked at your screen, the expression on your face making his heart skip while his own eyes traced the shape of your face. You scribbled something down and passed it to your friend, the two of you then shifting to the living area where the phone was set up to expose the extra space around you.

His eyes stayed locked on your body as you moved, fluidity and grace in each step as you were taught a new dance. The tones of the music brought out in your dancing brought a slight blush to his cheeks as you put the whole thing together. The dance itself was sultry, but when you moved to it, the tempo took on a whole new heartbeat, and suddenly the song was so much better in Calum’s mind.

It felt like it was too soon when you finished, bowing to your friend as she grinned wildly. Calum’s palms were a little bit sweaty as he watched you move closer to the camera, the live ending soon after as you moved on with your life.

The images of you moving still floated through Calum’s mind, his memory fixated on it as he finally opened up his Instagram DM’s.

Your username popped up immediately when he started a new conversation, his first message being typed out effortlessly by his thumbs.

Saw your live tonight, he typed. Thanks for dancing to our song.

It was simple enough, he thought, but hoped you wouldn’t think it was too simple; nerves danced along his muscles as he pressed send, his words to you now being sent through a series of ones and zeros as he quickly locked his phone and pushed it away. Now that he had made the move he was terrified of your response, the man trying to distract himself as he climbed out of his bunk and hunted down Michael.

His best friend was sitting on the bus couch, scrolling through whatever social media platform as Cal plopped down beside him.

“You talk to that dancer yet?” Michael asked immediately, hardly glancing up from his phone as Calum chuckled.

“You need to stop reading my mind,” he scolded gently. “Yeah, I, uh, just messaged them actually. They danced to Youngblood on a livestream.”

Michael looked at Calum and wiggled his eyebrows. “And judging by the blush on your face I’d say it was a good performance.”

Calum’s blush only deepened as Michael laughed, a light ping of Cal’s phone interrupting their conversation.

Michael stood and grabbed the phone as Calum froze in place, placing it on the couch beside his best friend before he sat down again.

“Answer it.”

“But-”

“Calum Thomas, you answer that lovely person right this second or I’ll do it for you.”

The magic words made Calum open his phone, knowing if Michael had to answer the message he would never be able to show his face around you. Nervous butterflies exploded in his stomach as he opened your response, Michael reading over his shoulder.

Well hello, handsome. Thanks for writing such a good song, hahaha. It’s one of my favorites!

“Well, mate,” Michael said, grinning as he slapped Calum on the back. “Looks like you can handle it.”

***

Your new video was incredible, how long did that take? You’re amazing!

Calum’s newest message to you made you smile, sweat making your hair cling to your forehead as you typed out a quick response.

Thanks, I had quite a good muse for that one ;)

Oh really? Must be a lucky muse if they inspire something so beautiful.

A heavy blush landed on your cheeks as you typed back a response, the click of someone’s fingers gaining your attention as you hit send.

“I know that’s not a phone out,” Kyle scolded gently, a sheepish smile pulling on your lips.

“Sorry Kyle, I’m putting it away now,” you promised, thumbs typing a quick message to Calum before burying the device deep within your bag.

It’s been about a month or two since Calum first messaged you, the banter and flirting starting immediately as you both finally got to have the private conversations you had been dreaming of. At times it would inch away from the innocent compliments and small talk to something sexier, but you both kept yourselves as appropriate as possible - sometimes.

Now, as Kyle reeled you back in to finish teaching the new choreo he had worked on, your mind wandered to Calum’s real thoughts about your IGTV video you had posted hours before.

Hearing Wildflower for the first time had sent you directly to the empty dance studio your parents had built you at their place, your feet and body taking almost no time to settle in as you started hammering out a choreo to Calum’s melody. You had been up all night doing it, barely making it to Kyle’s class on time as notifications from Instagram started pouring in, praises about your technique and song choice washing over you.

However, something tugged within you when you saw Calum’s message. It was different coming from him for some reason, and it filled you with a mix of excitement and pleasure; it was a weird mix for you, something you hadn’t ever truly felt before, but you hesitantly welcomed it with open arms.

The class passed by slower than you wanted, each time you ran through the choreography only taking up the smallest bit of time as you anxiously waited for the clock to strike 4 so you can open your messages again and talk to him.

Finally, your magical moment arrived when you could pack up and leave, Kyle giving you a big hug and saying his thanks before you started to hurry out the door.

“Hey!” Kyle called after you, making you pause in the doorway and spin around. He had a grin on his face. “Hope this guy is a good one.”

You beamed and laughed. “I think he is. Thanks, Kyle.”

He smiled and waved as you turned around again and bolted to your car, locking the doors as soon as they had shut as you opened up your messages from Calum.

He had sent a cheeky reply to your message earlier, followed by a video sent to you. With captured breath you tapped on the message, the video unfolding before you.

It was focused on his feet as he walked over shiny white tile, the camera panning up to expose the interior of LAX - or that’s what the location filter said, at least. You felt a grin crack open your face as you quickly realized what this meant.

Calum was home from tour.

Your thumbs started to type faster than you thought they could.

You’re home!

Almost immediately, the little bubble appeared.

Home, and ready to see you if you’re up for it.

Butterflies exploded in your stomach as you typed an affirmative message, both of you quickly setting up a time and place before you drove back to your home.

“Jade!” You yelled as you stepped inside, dropping your bag at the door while you quickly slipped off your shoes.

Your friend's head poked out from around a corner as you started shedding clothes, her hand immediately flying to cover her eyes as she yelped. “Whoa, where’s the fire?! Why are you undressing in the middle of the house?”

“I have a date.” You stated, stopping just outside of your door as you turned to face her. “With Calum. And I need you to pick my outfit while I shower!”

Jade uncovered her eyes and beamed, immediately following you into your room while you ducked into your private bathroom. While you had your shower, Jade was yelling questions to you, the two of you plotting and planning until you finally stepped out and pulled on the clothes she had decided on.

Your light blue jeans and white crop top were the perfect amount of casual, a light sprinkle of shiny jewelry being thrown in until Jade gave you the approval. When you checked the time on your phone, you nodded, standing and thanking her profusely as you finally went out the door and into your car again.

By now, the sunshine of LA was changing colors, shedding the harsh tone of the day for the warmth of dusk that was soon to come. The coffee shop Calum had chosen was perfect, too, the dwindling sunlight being perfect as you sat in a chair just outside the shop.

You anxiously looked around while you waited, playing with some of the rings around your fingers as you waited patiently for your date to arrive. Is this really even a date? You thought, suddenly panicking about how you looked. What if this is just a casual-

“This seat taken?”

His voice took you by surprise, your eyes trailing upwards to meet the warm, smiling brown ones of Calum Hood.

You smiled a little bit, leaning your elbows on the table. “Well I was saving it for a cute boy,” you teased. “But I guess you can sit as well.”

Calum gave you a look of mock hurt. “Ouch, right in the ego,” he teased back, slowly reaching across the table to take your hand. “Nice to finally meet you in person.”

He spoke as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a sweet and seductive kiss to your knuckles as his gaze held you captive. You blushed deeply, smiling in an attempt to cover it.

“And the same for you,” you said softly, smiling as he held on to your hand.

The two of you sat there and chatted as the sun set around you, the cool of the evening wrapping around you as you got lost in Calum’s words. Conversation came easily with him, both of you feeling like you had already known each other for so much longer than reality; something with the two of you just worked, and you loved being able to lose track of time with him.

Honestly, it was far too easy for you to lose yourself in his very being, but you decided not to focus entirely on that.

When the quiet and kind barista came out to put up the tables and chairs, you apologized profusely, Calum chuckling as he stood up. You quickly followed after him, the two of you apologizing again before starting to walk away, Calum’s hand slipping easily around your own while you blushed.

The two of you slowly walked back to your cars together, a comfortable silence settling in as you made your way to your cars. He walked you right up to your drivers side door, the man smiling sheepishly as he looked at you.

“Thanks for being willing to meet with me,” he said sweetly, bringing your joined hands up to his chest. He held them there, right next to his heart, which you could feel beating against your knuckles. “I’m glad you didn’t think I was a serial killer or something.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “And I’m glad you didn’t think I was a catfish,” you joked, Calum smiling and laughing.

When you both settled down again your gazes met, another blush coating your cheeks as he leaned down. His lips connected with your cheek quickly, the man standing up straight again as he released your hand.

While you were sad that he let you go, you knew it was time for you to go home; it was getting late, and you had a workshop to be at in the morning, your mind still racing as you dug out your keys and unlocked your car.

Calum pulled the door open for you, letting you slide in as he leaned against the top of the door.

“Will we be able to see each other again?” He asked softly, his chin resting on his arm as he draped it over the door.

You thought for a second, making a bit of a face. “I guess so, but I’ll have to have my people call your people.”

Calum grinned, chuckling at your teasing. “Well my people will be anxiously awaiting your people.” He took a second after he finished speaking, getting a serious look on his face as he looked at you. “I’d like to see you again, though. Maybe for dinner?”

You smiled, reaching up to take his hand. “I would love that,” you said, giving his fingers a squeeze as he brought them to his lips again.

He smiled and let you settle in, carefully closing the door for you before he stepped back a bit. He watched you go, making sure you were able to pull onto the roads okay before he got into his own vehicle.

Once Calum’s driver seat door had closed, he pulled out his phone, immediately pulling up the group text with his bandmates.

Guys, he typed. I’m so fucked.

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #calum hood oneshot #5sos oneshot #5sos fanfiction #blurbs.ch #i'm back babey!

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