|Two Left Feet| Wyoming x Fem! Reader
(Y/n) had never learned how to dance, not that it ended up being a big deal in the end. She was a part of project freelancer, and as such, she hardly had the time to dance. Excepting special occasions like a birthday, Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving and Halloween, because who doesn’t like dressing up? That’s why she was sitting at the bar during their Christmas Eve dance. The year before, they had invited everyone: the staff, the guards, even the Director (who obviously didn’t show). But this year, they wanted to keep it small, so it was just the Freelancers. Excluding Maine, who had gone to bed early, insisting he was tired.
York tried to drag her onto the dance floor, but (Y/n) declined, and before he could push her any further, Carolina had dragged him off. Wash was next- but he didn’t get too far. She had a reputation of spraining and dislocating body parts to rookies. It wasn’t entirely true, but the Freelancers like to scare the newbies. Which was what Washington was, weather he’d admit it or not. After Washington came North, who did a pretty good job. He appealed to her, ‘admitting’ he didn’t like dancing much either, talked with her for a while before trying to convince her to dance. She hadn’t fallen for it. Florida had been last, and they both knew (Y/n) wasn’t going to dance, so they had a pleasant conversation before Florida had left to tell the others he had failed.
So, besides Maine, the only man that hadn’t come to see her was Wyoming. Which was odd, because they were basically partners. Sure, there was no official partners, but everyone knew who worked best with who, and the Director would always put those people together. For instance: York and Carolina, or North and South. Wyoming and (Y/n) had worked well since the beginning, but then again, maybe that’s why he hadn’t come to try and convice her; he knew she wouldn’t dance.
“Come dance,” Ah, it seemed she had been mistaken. (Y/n) sighed, shoulders slumping as she leaned against the bar table, a bottle of beer in her hand.
“Wyoming, you know what my answer is going to be.” She turned around, abandoning the bottle at the counter and sliding off the stood to greet her friend. He had recently gotten back from a mission, and she hadn’t had a chance to properly say hello again.
“Please?” He paused, catching her easily in a hug, and reaching over to press a kiss to each of her cheeks.
“No, but you’re more than welcome to come and sit with me.” She pulled back from, rolling her eyes as she noticed most of the others watching her. “I can;t dance, you know this.”
“Do you really believe the rest of us can dance? The only one that knows anything close to proper dance is North, but that’s ballroom dancing. Hardly applies to this.” He gestured to the loud, booming music that seemed to almost drown their conversation.
(Y/n) couldn’t believe she was really considering this. Eight years and she had resisted dancing every single time- and yet, here she was, falling into the clutches of her partner. “. . .Fine. One dance and that’s it.” She huffed, taking his hand and dragging him onto the dance floor.
“That’s the spirit love!” He cheered, a small grin slipping onto his face as a few others joined them on the floor.
“Yeah, yeah, okay so... what do I do?”
