Content Warning: A single use of the pet name “doll”, fluff.
A/N: This is my submission for 1K for Kemp (Congrats, Sunny!). I chose prompt 8.
A/N 2: Divider and banner by me. Event and prompts by @flufftober. Written and edited on my phone; any and all mistakes are my own.
Flufftober 2025 Masterlist || Previous || Next
The last place you want to be on a Saturday night is a dance hall in Queens.
The room is large, crowded with people as a live band plays a tune loud enough it easily reaches the far side of the room. A light haze of cigarette smoke hangs in the air, not quite enough to choke but still noticeable in the dim lighting. Wooden floorboards creak under the weight of couples dancing at a pace that looks impossible, and you’re sure you’d fall flat on your face if you tried.
“Come on, you came all the way here, you should at least dance once,” Beth’s voice cuts through the music as she nudges your arm. You shake your head, rolling your eyes.
“You dragged me here. Besides, most people already have a partner.”
“Not everyone. God, I mean, you’re gonna have to loosen up a little bit. You can’t spend your whole life curled up with a book every weekend, you need to get out and experience new things sometimes,” she says.
“There’s nothing wrong with reading,” you huff. Your fingers fidget with the fabric of your dress, the cotton soft between your digits.
“I never said there was.”
Across the room, Bucky Barnes is nursing a beer, leaning one elbow against the bar as he scans the room. The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled to his elbows, offering little relief in the warmth of the room.
“Remind me why we came all the way to Queens?” Steve asks, taking a sip of his own beer, his back facing the crowd, shoulders slumped.
“New experiences, buddy,” Bucky replies, one eyebrow raising as he glances at his friend. “You never know who you’ll meet even just one borough over. Pretty girls everywhere.”
Steve sighs and shakes his head. He stays quiet, knowing better than to argue when it comes to his best friend and women.
Bucky’s eyes continue scanning the crowd, interest piqued in a few people scattered throughout the open space. He sets his beer down on the bar, ready to begin the evening, when his gaze land on you and brings him to a momentary halt.
You’re standing alone in a corner, hair tucked behind one ear, with your hands together behind your back. The hem of your dress swishes softly as you shift on your feet. He chuckles at the expression on your face, almost looking bored.
Without a word to Steve, Bucky starts making his way over to you, weaving his way through the crowd effortlessly.
You don’t notice him at first. Beth left for the bathroom, leaving you to your own thoughts as the music continues playing from the stage. Your gaze is fixed across the room, zoned out on a light fixture. It’s not until he steps into your line of sight that you blink and look up at him.
“Hey, doll,” he says, a charming smile spread wide on his face. He’s handsome, unbelievably so, and his blue eyes twinkle in the dim light of the room. “Are you here with anyone?”
You swallow hard, a little alarmed. “No. Well, yes, my friend, Beth. She dragged me here.”
He chuckles, a single eyebrow lifting. “Dragged you?”
“Not literally!” you explain, panicking unnecessarily at the image he probably has forming in his mind. “I didn’t want to come. Had plans with a book, but she didn’t like that.”
He nods like he understands, his eyes seemingly studying you. After a moment, he holds out his hand, palm up.
“If you’re not with anyone, can I ask you to dance?”
Your eyes widen slightly, flicking to the crowd that’s still dancing awfully fast, before meeting his gaze once more. “I, uh,” you hesitate. “I don’t know how to dance.”
As if on cue, the band switches to something slower and quieter, making conversation easier. Bucky’s face suddenly looks smug.
“I’d be more than happy to teach you.” His voice is low, almost intimate despite the size of the crowd. Your mouth opens to respond and promptly shuts again. It reopens just in time to be interrupted.
“She’d love to.” You’re not sure when Beth got back, but her hands are suddenly pushing you towards him, nearly making you trip into him.
He catches you easily, his hands warm on your elbows as he helps steady you.
Face flushed, you smile sheepishly up at him. He chuckles and guides you to the dance floor with a warm hand on the middle of your back—respectful, you notice—as you shoot Beth a quick glare.
“You’ve really never danced before?” he asks, stopping in an open space in the crowd and turning to you, his hand still on your back. You shake your head. “I’m a good teacher, I promise.”
He carefully guides you into position, one hand on his shoulder, the other in one of his as his free hand lands on your waist.
“The hardest part is the footwork,” he says softly, his eyes locked on yours. “Watch my feet. Let me guide you.”
You nod, glancing down as he slowly begins to move. When he steps, you mirror him a moment later. Another step, mirrored. And again. You breathe a sigh of relief as confidence slowly grows within you, eventually looking back up at Bucky with a nervous smile.
“See? Not so bad,” he mumbles, a warm smile on his lips. The band shifts to another song, still slow and prolonging the moment.
You agree quietly before allowing a comfortable silence to stretch between you, the music and the crowd the only sound.
“So tell me, what book was going to prevent us from meeting tonight?” he asks, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Oh, just a fantasy novel. You’ve probably never heard of it,” you say with a shrug, trying to focus on the steps so as not to land on his toes. In your experience, men like him only asked out of politeness and rarely listened to the response.
His eyebrows raise in mild surprise. “Fantasy, huh? Figured a beautiful girl like you would be more into that Shakespeare stuff. Or Austen.”
Now it’s your turn to be surprised, simply for the fact he actually listened to your answer. “Sometimes,” you shrug again. “But I love a good fantasy.”
“What’s it called?”
“‘The Hobbit’.”
He stops in his tracks, jaw dropping slightly. You accidentally step on his toes from the sudden pause and make him wince.
“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry!”
He’s not even bothered, just staring at you like you’ve grown a second head. “You know ‘The Hobbit’?”
The two of you aren’t even dancing anymore, just standing in each other’s arms as people move around you. The music suddenly shifts into something faster, people moving into swing.
“You know ‘The Hobbit’?”
Bucky scoffs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I read it in 1937!”
Now it’s your turn to look at him like he’s grown a second head. “It wasn’t published until 1938.”
He grins, leaning forward conspiratorially and wiggling his eyebrows. “In the United States.”
Before either of you know it, an enthusiastic discussion ensues in the middle of the dance floor about a hobbit and his wild journey through Middle Earth.
It’s not until someone accidentally bumps into you that either of you remember where you’re standing. You laugh, a little flustered as you eye the handsome man in front of you who’s just as passionate about a book—if not more so—than you are.
With one hand on the middle of your back again, he gently guides you off the dance floor and back to where Beth waits.
“I’m James, by the way. James Barnes,” he says with a grin, holding out his hand. “But you can call me Bucky.”
You take it and introduce yourself, unable to hold back the smile forming on your lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bucky.”
He doesn’t let go of your hand, instead lifting it to his lips and brushing a gentle kiss across your knuckles.
My day 4 of @flufftober/kinktober: Late Night Talks/First Dance
Warnings/Tags: mentions of alcohol consumption, reader is drunk at a point, brief talks of loneliness and isolation, and in no way is this fully following canon cause fuck that shit MOLLY MY BABY YOU WILL SURVIVE
a/n: I honestly might stop going in chronological order with my list just because I’m in the mood for fluff lately and I’ve been thinking about johnigail like a lot sooooo I’m thinking that one might be next hehe and then maybe the Karen x oc one??? (mostly because I want an excuse to introduce Iris to you all) I’ll just see where the wind takes me! Anyways, enjoy🙏
Kinktober/Flufftober Masterlist
The party had already started by the time you made it back to camp. There was a buzz in the air that you picked up on once you dismounted your steed. Probably just the imminent storm that was on the wind at the time, but part of you liked the idea that the energy from the people around you had created some sort of special spark. This was a moment you would keep with you forever, a moment you still return to today.
As you approached, tugging your gloves off, the blurry blobs finally came into view. First Arthur and Mary-Beth, the two of them swaying back and forth alongside Dutch and Molly, who were tangled up in each other’s arms. Molly caught your eye again, as she always had. Her beauty was captivating, breathtaking, something you only thought could be dreamt up. Dutch dipped her low and then tugged her back up into his embrace, those orange curls that were usually coiled tight sprung with her. Free, just like her laughter. There was a bright smile that adorned her freckled face. You swore you had never seen anything prettier than that smile.
Music seeped out of the gramophone nearby and swirled up to join the clouds of smoke in the air. Finally you tore your gaze away from the beautiful woman to inspect a rowdy group sat around a table. There you found Uncle singing some silly song with Sean and Karen as Javier plucked his guitar. You were quick to join in on the fun. For just a moment, you felt the world outside of camp and your worries for what came tomorrow slip away.
The night continued, time becoming an afterthought as you drank and sang with your friends. Your family. As the alcohol settled in your veins your mind drifted back to Molly. The booze buzzed through you like the storm in the sky and soon you were stumbling back to Dutch’s tent, acting before thinking. There you found a very glum Molly, alone as usual, who was startled by your presence.
“Sorry.” You slurred, gripping tight to the canvas, “just got a little curious.” Molly had raised an eyebrow at that, you only remember because it was the one part of her face that wasn’t blurred. To her surprise, you moved closer, tripping over your own feet but still making it to her, nonetheless. Once you had, Javier played a note on his guitar, the start of a song, and Sean’s voice rung out.
O Mollie, O Mollie, it's for your sake alone
A smile crept up your face at that. You absolutely loved this song.
That I leave my old parents, my house and my home
You loved this song so much that you reached your hand out to Molly, silently asking her to dance.
My love for you, it has caused me to roam
She looked at your hand in confusion but you didn’t mind, because the alcohol was just begging for you to move.
I'm a rabble rouser and Dixie's my home
So you began to dance and twirl without a care, without Molly. Your moves were nowhere on beat, but that was the fun of it all. A part of you, even while drunk, was hoping that this would cheer her up.
Jack o' diamonds, Jack o' diamonds, I know you of old
Your laughter was almost as loud as their singing, joy bursting throughout your body.
You robbed my poor pockets of silver and gold
Molly watched you curiously, your carefree nature was new to her, and your interest in her was even newer.
O Whiskey, you villain, you've been my downfall
You had let out a shameless laugh at these lines, everything was funny to you right then. All of your worries floated far away.
You've kicked me, you've cuffed me and cause me to brawl
Someone grabbed your shoulder and you turned to find Molly stood up from her spot on the cot, her green eyes meeting yours. It looked as if there were a million things she wanted to say.
My foot's in a stirrup, my bridle's in my hand
But there was no time for idle chatter so you gripped her hand and pulled her into a tight embrace. Dancing was the only thing on your mind so you began to lead her in an absolutely absurd dance, one that left the both of you dizzy.
I'm leaving sweet Mollie, the fairest in the land
Molly had to tug herself away to catch her breath. Though, her eyes were still on you, you who still had so much energy and enthusiasm, you who spun and twirled around her. The song drifted into background noise, your giggles the only thing that could be heard right then. Molly couldn’t help the smile that broke through, like the sun shining through the clouds after a long rain.
“You’re a real funny one.” She commented, but you were too caught up in your own world to catch it.
Your drunken buzz had died down to a low hum as you and Molly sat side by side in silence. The moonlight was shimmering off the lake in front of you, trees were swaying back and forth with each gust of wind, and frogs croaked a symphony nearby. You swore you could even hear a rumble of thunder in the distance. Clouds rolled overhead, dimming the glow of the stars above. That storm was even more fresh on the wind right then, but not a single drop of rain made it out of those clouds, if you recall correctly. The party behind the two of you was still going strong, though it was nothing but muffled laughter at that point.
You were the first to break the silence between you, with a question that had riddled your mind for as long as you could remember, “Do you ever regret comin’ here?” And you watched Molly’s gaze drop to her lap as she processed that. The true answer was written all over her face but she tried her best to deny it with a simple shake of her head.
Your response was a laugh of disbelief. The woman you knew wasn’t the woman everyone else had known at the time, that was obvious. Your view of her was completely different than anyone else’s, and you could see just how badly that affected her. She was isolated, by the others and herself. Sometimes, even by you. You knew she was lying.
And she was, because Molly really did regret coming here. All the time. She would admit that to you over a glass of wine in a train headed to your future years later. But right now, in this moment you’re reliving, she only chose to share how lonely she was.
“I don’t belong here. Not amongst these…” she searched for the nicest way to describe the gang of misfits. Nothing came to mind though and you watched as she let out a defeated sigh. It was obvious why she chose not to finish that sentence, she didn’t want to insult you. Or at least, that’s what you had hoped.
You parted your lips, desperately searching for anything else to say, anything else to fill the void. Even now you remember the words that were strung together and swirling through your mind: “you belong here” “I care about you” “I love you, I really do” but you stopped yourself, knowing that those remarks would have only made things worse. Instead, you let the silence linger between you. It hung heavy in the air, like the moisture that threatened to spill from the clouds above. As you sat there contemplating whether you should speak up or not, you tugged at the grass beneath you. A nervous habit that you still have to this day. Each innocent strand of grass after another pulled from the ground prematurely until you finally got the courage to speak up again, to ask her another question.
“Do you ever feel like…” you had paused to look her way, to inspect if she was listening or maybe even annoyed by you. All she did was meet your gaze and so you continued, “like the world has left you behind?” Quite often, at the time, you found yourself feeling that way. Insignificant, crumpled up and forgotten. Honestly, you had lived most of your life feeling like that and all you really wanted was to hear someone say they felt the same. And Molly did. She gave you a curt nod and turned to look out at the horizon again. The topic seemed to be a hard one for her so you decided it was best to leave it at that but it was nice to know you weren’t alone. Later, Molly would tell you that she wasn’t used to someone asking her these type of questions, or even showing any sort of interest in her. She appreciated it immensely but had no idea how to show it. Right then, though, you were convinced everything was slipping through your fingers because of how quiet Molly had become.
The silence settled over the both of you once and for all, like a warm blanket next to a fire. It was suffocating at first, the urge to just keep talking, to keep things positive, ate at you. But before you knew it, the feeling became something more. It became relaxing. A feeling that was so foreign to the both of you, so foreign yet so nice.
It took you a moment to realize that Molly shifted closer, but once you had, you wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her close to you. Still, you’re unsure what possessed you to do such a bold thing but you’re happy you did. She then rested her head upon your shoulder, the warmth of your bodies mingling. A content sigh came next, from both of your lips, and soon you were resting your chin against her hair. You two sat there in a silence that was now full of understanding and peace. The party long forgotten as your hearts intertwined.
The sheets beneath you shift as you return to reality, the woman next to you finally rising from her sleep. She rises with certainty, stretching out her coiled muscles and yawning loudly. Those orange curls of hers a mess, the nightgown she sleeps in unbuttoned, rumpled, and falling off her shoulders to reveal her freckled skin. A shaky smile pulls up her lips as she meets your loving gaze, “Hey.” A greeting you have come to expect every morning.
You’re still unsure how someone like you ended up with a woman like her, a woman of such high society and standards. Sometimes you’re still awestruck by the sight of her. Sometimes all it takes is a kiss for you to remember how real this actually is. Your lips collide with hers, not the way they did last night. No. This time it’s just for good measure, for her to know the depths of your love. The love you struggle to articulate pours out from your chest and past your lips into hers, and when you pull away, the look on her face is priceless. Oh the look on her face could melt the coldest of hearts.
A second of silence passes, just like that night, but this time it doesn’t matter. This time the urge to fill it doesn’t exist. “What’s on your mind?” She asks after a moment, softly caressing your cheek and looking at you like you’re something worth living for. And maybe you are. A breathy laugh escapes you before you respond, the memories of that night still fresh in your mind, “The night we fell in love.” It’s the only way you can describe that evening.
“Which one?” She asks, genuinely curious, and you find your heart beating just a little faster.
“Does your plan allow for me to pop out to the shops?” John asked, wandering into the living room, where Sherlock was currently lounging on the sofa in his dressing gown, frowning at his laptop, headphones only covering one ear.
“We’ve run out of tea. Could’ve sworn there was another packet…”
“Ah, yes,” Sherlock confirmed, pulling the headphones off. “That would’ve been me. Wanted to make some tea this morning, but apparently I got distracted because now I can’t seem to recall where I’ve put it.” He blinked up at John, who shook his head, chuckling.
“Sometimes, you are a very confused genius, you know that?”
Sherlock feigned to ponder that for a moment, then just grinned, and John went over to press a quick kiss to his forehead. “Back soon. Anything else?”
Sherlock shook his head, so John grabbed his keys and a bag, and jogged down the stairs.
---
When John re-entered the flat about an hour later, he didn’t notice the change immediately. He entered through the kitchen, packed away the tea and knick-knacks he couldn’t refuse buying, then filled the kettle almost on auto-pilot.
With the kettle on he ventured into the living room to greet Sherlock, and stopped.
The furniture was pushed to the sides, as far as the room would allow, the fire was lit and the curtains drawn slightly. Sherlock was leaning back against the desk, clad in one of his sharp suits but barefoot, a speaker blinking on stand-by on the desk.
“Sherlock?” John asked in confusion, looking around the cleared middle of the room and then back at Sherlock, who pushed himself off the desk and slowly approached John.
“What–” John stammered while Sherlock was helping him out of his jacket and pulling him towards the now cleared area of their living room.
“Dance with me,” he whispered, and John all but melted into his arms. The fire had warmed the room comfortably, the dim and flickering light and the scent of Sherlock surrounding him lulled him into a dreamy state of comfort. Forgotten was the brisk air and slight dampness from outside, the masses of people just lurking around in only those aisles that John needed to venture.
All that mattered now, all that there was in the world, were Sherlock’s arms surrounding him, the flat chest pressed against his, the cheek placed comfortably on his hair.
“Shoes and socks off,” Sherlock told him as he loosened the embrace and turned towards the desk to fiddle with the speaker.
“Wha–” John started, his mind just a bit foggy from the sudden embrace and equally sudden loss of it, but then he caught up and hurried to get rid of shoes and socks. Distantly he heard the kettle click off in the kitchen, but he couldn’t care less at the moment. His eyes were fixed on the fabric of Sherlock’s suit jacket, stretching over his back as he leaned down to start the music.
Sherlock straightened and turned towards John, and as he approached John again, he was followed by the gentle tones of a slow song.
John stepped into Sherlock’s open arms only too willingly, stretching up to meet Sherlock half way and press their lips together in a slow, sensual kiss.
“What is this?” John asked as Sherlock took his hand and led them into a simple waltz.
“A dance,” he stated softly, almost as if amused by John’s silly question.
“Yes, I can see that.” John gave him a look, but Sherlock just pushed their bodies a little closer together.
“Do you remember our first dance?” Sherlock asked eventually. His eyes were a deep blue in the dim light of the room, and John distantly noticed one song ending and the next one starting. It didn’t matter. The music was only background. Sherlock was the one leading their dance, leading John. He was the one John listened to as he moved.
“Yes. Yes of course,” John said in response to Sherlock’s question. “How could I forget?”
It had been similar to this, their first dance. John had come home after a long shift, finding Sherlock pacing the living room in a strange mix of excitement and frustration. It had been dark already, the room only lit by the fire and a small lamp on the desk. John had paid no mind to the mood of his friend and had gone to the loo and changed into his pyjamas, intending to join Sherlock for a bit in the living room before going up to bed. Yet when he’d re-entered the room, he’d found the furniture moved to the sides and Sherlock waiting for him, tapping his foot impatiently.
“I need you to dance with me,” he’d stated, and John had not yet opened his mouth to protest when Sherlock had already taken him by the elbow and pulled him to the cleared area of the room.
“Don’t worry,” he’d chimed. “I won’t need long, just need to confirm something.”
“Sherlock, I can’t dance!” John had spluttered as Sherlock had already twirled him around his own axis once. At that, Sherlock had paused, his hands coming to rest on John’s upper arms.
John had shivered under that piercing look, despite the warmth of the fire.
“It will be easier with music, then,” Sherlock had stated, had put on slow music in record time, and had swooped up to John again.
“Take my hand,” he’d said, gently curling his fingers around John’s hand. The nervous energy and excitement had all but melted from him, and the room felt charged, too hot and yet not warm enough.
Sherlock had led him through the basic box-step, and once John had refreshed his knowledge there, Sherlock had told him to close his eyes. “Let me guide you, John,” he’d murmured, a deep rumble in John’s ears and chest. “Trust me, close your eyes.”
And John had. He’d closed his eyes, had let Sherlock lead them slowly through their living room, gently spinning and turning, swaying to the soft music in the background, their bare feet tapping over the wooden floor.
When they’d finally come to a halt, neither of them had let go. And when John had opened his eyes, he’d seen it. He’d seen the intensity of it all, had seen it all in Sherlock’s eyes, and it had just… happened. A shift, one gentle pull, and lips had met lips, one kiss leading to another, hands exploring, breath quickening, hearts racing–
When John opened his eyes, Sherlock was gazing down at him with a warm, gentle expression, and John almost felt as if his emotions were flowing out of him and spilling into the room like fog, gently stroking John’s skin where it was exposed, engulfing him and luring him into even deeper waters of love.
John shook his head, trying to clear his head and blinking the moisture out of his own eyes.
“Of course I remember,” he repeated softly, almost a whisper.
And Sherlock slowed their dance, their languid movements of bodies, communicating without effort, until they were standing in front of the fire, embracing to the sounds of the slow music Sherlock had put on.
“I love you,” Sherlock whispered, and John couldn’t fight the need one second longer. One hand sliding into soft curls, one cupping Sherlock’s jaw, he pulled the man down and kissed him with everything he felt.
Sherlock melted against him under his lips, his arms winding around John’s middle and pressing their bodies closer, soft, breathy sounds escaping him as John gently licked his way past plush lips.
“John,” Sherlock gasped, pulling back and burying his face in the crook of John’s neck.
“Admit it,” John teased softly, running one hand up and down Sherlock’s back. “You just wanted to expose me as the emotional one with this whole dancing thing. Oh!” He paused and pulled back to look at Sherlock. “You hid the tea on purpose, didn’t you?”
Sherlock shook his head. “I actually didn’t. I had planned to send you out for takeaway this evening, but when I accidentally misplaced the tea, I thought I might as well use the opportunity. I was looking for music when you almost startled me to death with your question about tea.”
“Huh?” John tilted his head. “Didn’t see you flinch.”
Sherlock pursed his lips, as if saying that this fact wasn’t making things any better.
“So. not only a confused genius, but also a jumpy one.”
The displeased pout was joined by a frown, and John chuckled, leading Sherlock to the sofa.
“I loved it. In case you didn’t notice. The idea, as well as your efforts,” John told his confused, and most likely self-conscious genius as he manoeuvred them into a lying position.
Sherlock harrumphed, nestling against John.
“A bit short lived. Maybe we could try this again when the moment is not so terribly charged with… everything.”
Now John frowned, a bit concerned. “Not good?”
“Yes, good, just… intense.”
“Hm. You are intense, you know?”
Sherlock pouted. “So are you. Don’t blame me. Do you even begin to understand what dancing with you does to me?”
John actually chuckled at that. “A lot of embarrassment and cringing? I’m a terrible dancer.”
“Oh nonsense,” Sherlock replied quite harshly. “You are not. You just didn’t have much opportunity. We could change that,” he added softly.
John smiled down at him. “I would love that. I know you like dancing.”
“I like you,” Sherlock mumbled. “And dancing. I think I only like dancing with you.”
“That’s the intensity of the moment speaking.”
“No.” Sherlock snuggled closer to John. “I’m just wiser now. I don’t want to dance with people. Just you.”
“Alright,” John amended, then added “I love you, too.”
---
Tell me if you want to be added or removed from the list :)
Summary: At your friend's wedding, Carmy has his first dance with you (or anybody for that matter)
Warnings: Fluff, Carmy being anxious, and lovesick, kissing
A/n: I changed the day 5 prompt to one of the alt prompts <3
“Stop messing with it,” you whispered, pushing Carmy’s hand away from his tie for the fourth time. Instead, you entwined your fingers with his under the table, squeezing them once.
The fancy tablecloth dragged along your skin as you turned your attention back to your friend’s wedding — though, if you were honest, you were barely listening to the third groomsman speech of the night.
“I feel like I’m suffocating in this fucking thing,” he whispered back, his free hand clenching as he resisted messing with the tie again. Instead, he ran his fingers through the curls of his neatly styled hair. Several times tonight, you’d stopped yourself from messing up his hair and returning it back to its usual unruly look.
Rubbing your thumb along the back of his hand, you reassured, “You can rip it off once everyone’s drunk and dancing.” You gave him a smile as he nodded a few times, short and distracted.
In the several months you’d been dating, you’d already come to recognize the faraway look Carmy often had in his eyes, the blue of them turning a bit empty, remote. His mind ran a million different places, all away from the stuffy suit and strangers of tonight.
Yet, when his gaze met yours — really looked into your eyes — he was there 100%. So when you glanced at him and began to clap, Carmy wasn’t quite sure what everyone was clapping about.
Looking around, it seemed the speeches were finally done. A too-loud DJ began playing, his voice in the microphone shouting at people to get on the dance floor. Many people complied, but you and Carmy sat right where you were.
Jewelry that you only seemed to wear during weddings jangled as you reached over to him, grabbing the dark tie and beginning to loosen it. Maybe it was the tie or maybe it was your touch, but the tension that’d been building beneath his skin began to chip away.
“Thanks,” he breathed out, watching your movements. And he thought he might have gotten through the most uncomfortable part of the night, but as the music moved to some slow love song from the 80s, he saw the look you gave him.
A flash of recognition passed your face, a wide smile following. “Oh I love this song! Can we go dance? Please?” You’d grabbed both his hands, shaking them slightly as you asked.
The thought of dancing in and of itself terrified Carmy, and dancing in front of a bunch of strangers while completely embarrassing himself to the best partner he’d ever had? Mortifying. He was surprised he hadn’t already puked onto these far too expensive chargers.
And yet, you had asked — and who was he to say no to you?
“Yeah,” he breathed out, nodding. “Yeah, okay.” He wiped his palms on his dress pants, running them back and forth a few times across his thighs.
A high-pitched squeal left your mouth as you pulled him up from the chairs. He couldn’t help but chuckle in between his attempts at slow, even breaths.
On the dance floor, you curled your arms around his neck. The weight of them soothed his flaming nerves like water washing over a burn. Carmy placed his hands on your waist like you were glass, his fingers barely brushing the fabric of your clothes.
With an easy smile, just barely teasing, you released your hold on him to grab onto the backs of his hands. You brought them lower, onto your hips, and pressed firmly.
You leaned in. “You can hold me, Carm,” you whispered, beginning to sway back and forth. When he nodded, you added, “I like when you do.”
And his eyes that’d been glued to the floor — so he didn’t step on your feet — shot up to look at you. “Really?”
He hadn’t meant for it to sound so… desperate, disbelieving. But you nodded back, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.
And that image of you, beautiful and playing coy like you had no idea what you did to him, took all his attention. So, his foot inevitably stepped on yours, a small wince passing across your face.
“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry,” he said, stopping in place and looking down to make sure your foot was okay.
You rubbed your palm across his back, letting out a laugh. “I’m fine, Carmy. Come back here and dance with me.”
Which he did, of course, because you asked. But every muscle in his body pulled tight, making his movement rigid. “I’m sorry, I’m just shit at dancing. I’ve never really danced with someone like this.”
Your eyes lit up. “Oh. Not even at a school dance?”
“I didn’t really do school dances,” he said, keeping his hold tight on your hips.
God he was sweating in this damn suit. But you leaned in close again, the scent of you rolling off in gentle waves. Then, your lips connected with his cheek, and his temple, and his jaw.
“Well I’m honored to be your first.”
And Carmy’s heart might have stopped. He couldn’t tell. All he knew was that you looked incredible and you were his. You had chosen him, of all people. He couldn’t help it. He met you halfway and pressed a kiss to your lips — short, but warm and full of just happiness.
But you both broke apart with a jump as the slow song switched to a deafening one with even louder bass drops. Dozens of people jumped up from their seats to come dance.
You offered him a sheepish smile, then shouted, “And maybe your last!”
He laughed as you pulled him off the dance floor and toward the reception hall doors. Hand in hand, you walked out into the night air. Underneath the clear night sky, Carmy felt like he could breathe for the first time since he got there. Well, until he saw how you looked at him and the glow that always seemed to radiate around you.
The muffled music still floated out to the two of you, so beneath the stars, he happily danced and laughed with you until his feet and cheeks hurt. And then he danced some more, because you asked him to.
The evening was breathtaking as you looked at Skyhaven basked in the reds and yellows of the setting sun. The speaker was playing some soothing instrumental melodies, just a background noise to keep you going as you were preparing for dinner and the return of your boyfriend.
With each note, and each passing minute of the wait the excitement grew in you, and little by little you began to sway. Slow steps to the melody, little hum as you fixed the plates. A bit open armed twirl when you peak of the overture slowed down into these gentle notes reminding you of spring fields.
Too deep into the scenery of your imagination you never notice the door opening and closing gently. You didn’t notice a figure leaning on the wall watching as you moved, hands on a phantom invisible partner, a scene you were merely replicating from so many movies you saw in your life. You weren’t a good dancer, you didn’t really dance with anyone like that, so how could you be good? But you could imagine the dance of slow love, one in which you didn’t have to pay attention if you would by accident step on someone’s toes.
For a moment, you thought your imagination was going wilder than ever when you felt a movement of air near you. Eyes snapping open just in time to see Caleb slipping his hand into yours, the other resting instantly on your waist.
“My lady” he said with that content smirk “apologise as I take over, from your previous partner without proper asking” you giggled.
“It’s ok, he was a terrible dancer anyway” you stepped on your toes to steal a small kiss, before letting Caleb lead. “I am not a better one, so be careful”
“You can step on my toes all you want, I don’t mind, as long as you dance only with me” a quiet assurance, and a silent realization that, Caleb had so many secrets left to uncover, him being a good dancer was one of them — from how it felt and how easy it seemed for him to lead you.
“Is there anything you cannot do, Colonel?” you asked teasingly as he pulled you into himself, turning you with him in a swirl with a smile that didn’t match the uniform he wore.
“You tell me, pips” he said, his hand slowly tracing down your back, fingers curling in place lifting the hem of your dress.
“Apparently you can’t keep your hand to yourself” you laughed, swatting his arm, making the dress fall back down.
“Guilty.” he slowed down to the changing melody of a waltz, guiding you through the movements slowly, confidently. Like this was what you always did, like the movement was second nature.
“Do you know it’s our first dance?” you broke the silent spell that washed over both of you.
“Really?” you know he knew it too, he remembered every little memory of the two of you, every little date, every small moment spent together, but he seemed to think about it, pondering it with his eyes focused solemnly on you while you danced until the music started fading.
“Really” you let your head rest on his shoulder when the music started fading. The two of you still swayed to the sound of silence.
Prior to moving into the white house you had greatly underestimated the number of events that would take place around you, and how many you would be invited to.
You'd just managed to get away from someone who wanted you to talk to your father on their behalf about raising military funds, you didn't even know who they were and yet they wanted you to do something for them.
You were currently hiding in the corner waiting for the opportunity to make your escape when somebody tapped you on your shoulder.
“Do you wanna dance?”
It was just Josh thank goodness. Not only would he be able to ward off unwanted interactions, but he can help you get out of here.
“Well I'm normally just sort of a wall flower at events like this. I mean I don't really know how to dance, but that would be preferable to talking to most of these people.”
He gives a laugh as he takes your hand. “They can be pretty persistent.” He guides you over to the floor.
He places his hands on either side of your waist, holding you closer than what is strictly necessary. Not that you mind though after all you and Josh have been metaphorically dancing around your feelings for each other. Might as well physically dance around them too.
That was another reason to be glad it was Josh who bugged you. I mean how often do you get to be saved by your crush? Even if the only thing they're saving you from are social interactions.
Josh clears his throat glancing at something across the room before looking at you. He speaks lowly, as if he doesn't want to be heard, though if it's by you or eavesdroppers you can't tell.
“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
*Flashback*
“Who do you think you are? Mr Darcy?” You accuse, laughing at him.
He gives you a confused look as if he can't place your reference.
“You know, pride and prejudice,” you clarify trying to help him out.
“Oh…” he nods along. He doesn't know what you're talking about.
“Jane Austin, oh come on don't give me that.” You point a finger at him. “Jane Austin is a wonderful novelist. While her stories are romances they tackle topics such as social class and overcoming first impressions, and you should watch the movie.“
You give him a pointed look, and he stares unguarded back at you.
“Are you offering?“
Oh, isn't that a loaded question? Does he want to watch it with you? Presumably, but in what way? Simply because you recommended it? Or because you're good friends? Or could he possibly mean as a date. You feel like you're playing chicken and you don’t know what the right answer is.
“Well, someone's gotta make sure you get all the symbolism.” False confidence it is then.
“Great, it's a date,” he says smiling at you.
Before you can question him he's bidding adieu to go handle something. Though you can't seem to be bothered after all you've got a maybe date to plan.
*present *
“Are you going to insult my good character now?” You ask with a laugh, hardly believing what you're hearing.
Who knew introducing him to such literary classics would lead to this.
“I’m not sure there's a single thing I could say against it.” Josh answers sincerely, “I understand if you don’t want to, or perhaps can’t return my affections, but I don't want to keep it secret from you anymore.”
"Josh… " you can't believe this is happening. Having literally dreamt of this moment and here it was, better than you've imagined.
You must take too long to say something because Josh second guesses himself, “Sorry that was a lot. I just thought there was a connection or something, but it’s ok if-”
“Josh slow down, I'm just trying to savor the moment. I wish we weren't somewhere so public.“
Glancing at the crowd around you causes self-consciousness to flood you. Nobody had been listening in right?
“We could sneak away, but it might catch a few eyes,” he suggests nodding towards a door outside.
“I fear we may already have. Come outside with me?” You ask sweetly.
“Yeah.”
“Have I mentioned how nice you look?” Josh asks as you walk.
“I'm gonna need you to stop saying such nice things about me or I might do something unbecoming.”
You're just walking through the door Josh shutting it behind himself. “Just a second ago you were worried about onlookers and now you're warning me-”
You can't fight the urge to kiss him any longer. Putting an end to his teasing is even more enjoyable than you imagined. He was surprised at first but quickly got the memo and kissed you back. It's somehow both soft and intense, filled with longing and the fear of pushing each other too far. You've danced around your feelings for so long it's hard to tell where yours stop and his start.
Breaking apart for air Josh's eyes search yours intently for any doubt or reluctance but you just smile at him, “Hey I kissed you, so if anyone should be nervous about it it's me.”
Sunshine's Flufftober - Prompt Alt 19: First Dance
Only You
Rating: T
Pairings - Fíli x Ori, Bagginshield, Kíli x Tauriel (Minor/Background)
Word Count: 9, 105 Words
Summary:
The line of Durin, save for Princess Dís, is considered to be quite ugly. King Thorin and Prince Kíli are happily married though, and so it is of little consequence to them both, years after the events of the Battle of the Five Armies.
Crown Prince Fíli, however, is another matter. He is unwed, and has been secretly pining for his best friend, Ori.
Ori, who along with his siblings, is considered to be the height of beauty. This mattered very little to the Master Scribe, until he overhears a few unsavory dwarrow speaking ill of the line of Durin, especially Fíli in particular. Fíli, who is his best friend, and a long held secret love of his.
Though not fond of large events, particularly balls, the youngest 'Ri decides it's finally time for him to go to one and attempt to save his best friend before it's too late.
Credit to the artist @moon-glisten for doing this WONDERFUL commission to go with this fic!!
Her excitement also cleared her mind, she was suddenly aware of how close they were with her practically draped all over him. She took a half step back and allowed the sea breeze to cool her cheeks. With her mind cleared, she was also more aware of her surroundings, noticing the music from the hall for the first time since Edmund stepped outside. It was an upbeat tune and a smile came across Asline’s face. “Oh, I just love this song!”
“Would you like to dance?”
“But it's too crowded in there.”
“I didn't say anything about going inside.”
The grin on her face grew and she took Edmund’s hand as they began dancing together chest to chest. His hand, once again, settled on her waist, and hers rested on his firm bicep. The first time he lifted her, she let out a gentle squeal and gripped on to his arm, but once she realised how secure she was in his hands she gave into pure joy. Their laughter mingled as they span, skipped and swayed in time with the music. Closing the gaps between their bodies as if they were becoming one person.
A/N: I am one day from completing my first ever daily event! I hope to keep this momentum up to get this ficlet completed before December (not holding my breath, but I do have hope)
