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stellar-skyy · 8 months

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DANCE WITH ME! - Platonic Freminet & reader

i. SUMMARY: Freminet dances with his sibling. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Implied sensory overload. iii. NOTES: STRICTLY PLATONIC, found family, older sibling!reader, fluff, slight hurt/comfort(?), gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.5k words. iv. A/N: I really wanted to get this out because it's the last time I have time to write for like a week, so I'm sorry if it seems rushed. ;-; This is technically a continuation of my other Freminet fic, the warmth of home, set much further in the future.

Freminet stood against the furthest wall of the ballroom, holding a glass with both hands and hoping if he huddled close enough into the corner he would become one with the wallpaper itself.

Lyney was dazzling guests on the other side of the room, a luminous smile on his lips and no shortage of charm dripping from his words. A clever magic trick here, a whisper of sweet words there, and half of the party had fallen for him. Lynette stood beside him: silent, but still carrying her own unique charm. She might not be as flashy as Lyney, but she still was one the guests fawned over, for her quiet charisma and peculiar demeanour.

Freminet wasn’t originally on the guestlist of the party, only being added at the last minute as a ‘thank you’ from the hotel owner for fixing some bits of machinery within the walls of the hotel. And even then, it took Lyney convincing him to make a polite appearance to drag him away from the sea—the place he was planning on spending that night instead.

They’d arrived as a group, being greeted warmly by the host. It took about three minutes for Lyney to be swept away by a crowd of adoring fans of his performances, Lynette following close behind as she always did, and Freminet—

Freminet was left alone.

It wasn’t as if being overlooked was a new experience for him. Lyney and Lynette thrived in the spotlight, while all Freminet did was wilt, so they were content keeping the attention away from him. It was easier that way; he could blend into the shadows and retreat back into his own mind, where there was no one to disturb him. He didn’t care about being ignored by the guests.

(He just didn’t want to be ignored by his siblings.)

Freminet clutched the glass tightly in his hands. He was still too young to drink, so when he was handed the glass of wine by a passing waiter, Lynette was quick to swoop over and swap it with a glass of water instead, before returning to her twin’s side.

The music had gotten louder, the orchestra playing a more upbeat song than the ballad that had preceded it. It was an enjoyable sound in theory, but the sheer volume of it—combined with the overlapping chatter in the room, thick smell of wine, and bustling crowds—made it sound like they were playing their violins with knives. They scraped along the strings, a metallic screeching echoing across the ballroom.

Why didn’t anyone else look bothered by the noise? Was he the only one who could hear it?

“—eminet? Freminet?”

The voice cut through the other noise in his ears, letting his attention fall directly on the concerned look of the person in front of him. He stumbled backwards slightly—when did they get so close?

“Freminet, are you okay?” (Name) repeated, a furrow in their brow. “I’ve been calling for you and you haven’t responded.”

“I-I’m okay, it’s just…” He swallowed, looking back down at the glass of water in his hands. “…very loud.”

Their eyes widened in understanding. “Do you want to me to take you somewhere quieter?”

He nodded, shrinking back into himself. Disappearing acts were more his brother’s specialty, but he wouldn’t mind being whisked away for a while. And of course, it wasn’t polite to make his sibling escort him out of the party, but the noise was so dreadful that he couldn’t even bring himself to feel self-conscious about it.

(Name) brought him through the crowd, dodging both guests and waiters as they led him past the dancefloor, up the stairs and out a set of double doors. The two emerged onto a balcony, almost being knocked back by the biting wind.

“Here. We can stay as long as you like.” They said, sliding down against the railing to sit cross-legged on the floor. Cautiously, Freminet did the same.

“It’s much quieter here.” He muttered to himself, before addressing (Name) again. “Won’t you be missing the party?”

“It’s okay,” they said easily. “I was pretty tired myself.”

The music was still audible through to the balcony, reverberating through the walls in a muted symphony. As minutes passed, it shifted in tone from joyful melodies to a slower waltz.

Through the window they could see through to the bottom floor, where Lyney still entertaining guests. As the music changed, he looked over at Lynette with a tilt of his head. She blinked back at him and nodded slightly, taking his hand as he extended it to her. Their ability to communicate without a single word was always something that puzzled Freminet, but seeing the guest’s confused reactions made him think it was just something that only made sense to the two of them.

“What are they doing?” Freminet mumbled, watching Lyney lead Lynette to the centre of the dance floor.

“They’re going to dance together.” (Name) replied, also observing the pair. Sure enough, Lyney let go of Lynette’s hand long enough to shift it to the middle of her back, clasping their other hands together and sweeping across the floor.

“They look so elegant…”

(Name) hummed in agreement.

“I think I would have liked to dance. Not in front of everyone, though.” Freminet said quietly. (Name) was quiet for a beat, before abruptly standing up.

“I guess it’s good we’re alone out here, then.”

“Huh?” He blinked at them.

“Dance with me!” They stuck out their hand, a grin across their face.

“R-Right now?” He glanced around himself, as if there were guests loitering around the corner, ready to scoff at him at any moment. “But we’re outside, and I don’t—”

“We can still hear the music from out here,” They reasoned, not moving their hand. “It’s just me. There’s no one out here to stare at you.”

“I’m not that good.” Freminet frowned, looking back at Lyney and Lynette twirling across the floor. More guests had swarmed to the dancefloor following their lead, pairs spinning and dancing across the ballroom. The dance seemed easy enough to follow, and Lynette had run him through the basic steps of the waltz ‘in case of emergency’…

Before he could think about it too hard, Freminet had laced his fingers around his siblings and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. (Name) rested their other hand in the middle of his back, while he hesitantly placed his on top of their shoulder.

In time with the music, Freminet was pulled across the balcony in a gentle rhythm. They glided round in a gradual circle, in time to the tempo of the music echoing outside.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

On the third beat, Freminet faltered, almost stepping on (Name)’s feet before he caught himself. He ducked his head in embarrassment, watching his feet carefully to make sure he didn’t accidentally stumble.

The dance was slightly awkward with their inexperience, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The music was faint in his ears, the crowd was a distant memory, and all he could pay attention to was how light he felt. This must be how Lyney and Lynette feel when they’re together; like he was free to let the weights slide off his shoulders and just simply exist, without worrying about the other’s judgement. He’d never have his other half like they had, but he had (Name) and that was good enough.

They let go of the hand across his back, stepping back to spin him around in a twirl. The movement made him slightly dizzy, but they were right there to grab onto him and make sure he didn’t fall. To think, his plans changed from diving into the ocean and not emerging until the early morning to dancing a waltz on a balcony with his sibling. The entire thing…

It was rather absurd, wasn’t it?

A giggle escaped his lips, then another and another until he could hardly breathe through the laughter. His sibling was staring at him like he’d gone mad, and with good reason. Freminet wasn’t one for emotion—he liked to think of himself as an impassive and cold, free from needless feelings. It wasn’t in his nature to smile often or laugh.

But (Name) soon fell into their own fit of giggles, as if catching a contagion. Their steps stumbled and faltered, until they’d collapsed against each other. Freminet looked up at them, an open smile twisting his features into something almost unrecognisable. There was a warmth spreading across his chest, akin to the exhilaration he got whenever he first dove into the water.

“Do you want to go back inside?” They asked, stepping back to lean against the railing. Freminet hesitated.

He could see through the glass that the twins had finished their dance, Lyney whispering to Lynette while scanning the room in a look Freminet knew to be the face he made whenever he was hiding how troubled he was. His eyes swept around the guests—looking for the two of them, it seemed. Logically, he knew he should go back inside to at least let them know he was okay, and hadn’t just vanished into the sea like he usually did. It would be the polite thing to do.

But he had his sibling with him. And the wind was a pleasant coldness against his cheeks.

“It’s peaceful out here.” He said quietly. “Let’s… stay a little bit longer.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic x reader #freminet x reader #genshin freminet x reader #platonic freminet x reader

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

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Falling For the Devil [Part six: "The Wedding Night"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You step outside of Marci and Foggy's wedding reception for a moment to clear your head and the night soon takes a turn you weren’t expecting.

You both finally stop being idiots and admit your feelings. And that locked adjoining hotel room door does not stay locked.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 5.8k

a/n: There is one more part to this wedding saga that follows called "The Post-Wedding Brunch" that I will try to get up next before I take a break for the day of sharing these on tumblr. As I've said in the other notes, there are 74 of these currently on AO3, but you can find the ones available on tumblr in this list here. Hope you're enjoying the series if you're new to it!!

You headed out of the ballroom, the music fading into the background now that you were no longer near the thumping speakers. Walking the few steps through the brightly lit lobby, your heels clacking along the floor, you pushed open the front doors and stepped out of the reception hall. Your arms absently crossed over your chest as you wandered outside a bit further, the door softly closing behind you. You were far enough out of the city that you could actually see some stars in the night sky for once and your gaze lingered up, taking in the rare sight.

Your mind grudgingly fell back to Allison and Matt, hoping that you wouldn’t have to tune them out in Matt’s room like Foggy’s cousin had teased. Maybe if you were lucky he’d go to her hotel room. The thought made you wince, fighting down the sharp sting of tears.

You’d be lying if you said that what you felt for Matt was strictly friendly, even if you’d always said you two were just friends. Because you were friends–had been good friends for just over a year now–but you’d wanted more ever since you met him that night at Josie’s if you were being completely honest with yourself. But he’d only ever playfully flirted with you on occasion while you’d witnessed him openly flirt with other women.

You'd always felt like you just weren't quite enough to be his type. Not like that at least. He always flirted with the most stunning of women, and not that you entirely lacked self-esteem, but you'd never been a head turner, not like the women he had been with. And sure, Matt was blind, but as Foggy had said often, he did seem to have a sixth sense for that in particular. And on top of that, you'd always been a bit shy and awkward. Struggling a little with anxiety. Matt knew that well about you, and even though he'd always been great at handling you in those states, the women he flirted with were always confident and strong.

No, no you were not Matthew Murdock's type at all.

But Allison seemed nice. You certainly didn't hate her; hell, you couldn’t blame her for wanting Matt. If anything you envied her ability to boldly go after what she wanted. You weren’t like that. You’d never been like that. Which was why she was in there with him and you were out here, hoping you wouldn’t be stuffing pillows over your ears later tonight.

You sighed, shifting on your feet and feeling how sore they’d become in the heels you were wearing. At least the balmy night air and the soft chirping crickets felt refreshing in comparison to the loud music and heat from all of the sweaty bodies dancing inside. Eventually your eyes drifted closed, feeling yourself relax and a bit of your anxiety fade.

"I thought you came out here."

You startled, throwing a hand over your chest as your heart nearly skipped in shock. Spinning a little unsteadily on your heel, you spotted Matt before you nearly lost your balance. His hands darted out, grabbing your shoulders and catching you. Your own hands instinctively caught onto his bare forearms, the sleeves of the dress shirt he had on rolled up to his elbows now.

"Easy there, Bambi," he teased, righting you.

You grinned sheepishly, removing your hands from his arms and stepping back. "Shit, Matt, you scared me!" you told him, heart slowly recovering as he just grinned back at you. You watched him for a moment, noticing the slightly ruffled attire of his clothes from the day. "You step out to get away from all the noise, too?" you asked him.

He shrugged a shoulder, one hand holding onto his cane while the other slipped into his pants pocket. "Sort of. But I thought you seemed upset. Just wanted to check on you."

You took another step back, waving a dismissive hand and feeling your nerves return. "No, I–I just had a bit too much to drink. Mixed with the loud music and tons of people, I just needed some air."

He studied you for a long moment, quietly tilting his head to the side. You'd noticed he'd taken his glasses off when he'd stepped out; he had been wearing them at the table a minute ago. The longer he silently stared, the more you began to squirm under his blank gaze.

"Are you having a good night?" he asked you after a moment.

You smiled, nodding. "Yeah, I am. Marci and Karen might be encouraging me a bit too much on the open bar," you admitted, to which Matt chuckled, "but yes. Are you?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "Though I was hoping I'd get to talk to you a bit more. You've been hiding all night."

You bit your lip, eyes darting away. "I haven't been hiding," you said softly. "I've been dancing with Karen half the night. You seemed busy, like you were having fun." You cleared your throat, trying to make a joke as you asked, "Do you need to put a sock on our adjoining door tonight? Need me to find somewhere to go for a bit?"

Matt's mouth tugged into a frown, his eyebrows creasing together. "What?"

"You and Allison," you told him awkwardly. When he continued to stare you shook your head, glancing away. "Nevermind. Bad joke."

"I'm not sleeping with Allison tonight," he told you.

"Good to know I don't need to find somewhere else to go for a bit, then," you muttered awkwardly.

Matt cleared his throat, shifting on his feet beside you. Your arms nervously crossed over your chest again, your eyes drawing back upwards to the night sky. For a moment, silence fell over the pair of you.

"So I've heard everyone inside talking about Marci’s dress all day, and I have a pretty good idea of what Fog is wearing because it's basically what I'm wearing," Matt began, breaking the silence, "but I've been curious about what you're wearing."

Your cheeks burned, your gaze dropping down to your gold heels peeking out just under the silk, floor length dress.

"Same thing as Allison," you answered. "All the bridesmaids are wearing the same dress."

He took a step towards you, a faint smile on his lips as he spoke. "Well I didn't ask Allison what she was wearing. I asked you."

Your face flushed warmer, one of your hands rising to press against the burning skin on your cheek. "That's just usually your go-to line. Figured you already used it on her," you answered softly.

"It wasn't a line," he said just as softly. "I genuinely would like to picture how you look tonight. Since I can't actually see you."

You bit your lip, eyes returning to your shoes. For some reason your heart was thundering in your ears and your breath was coming in short.

"What color is it?" he asked, taking another step towards you.

"It's uh, like a sage green," you whispered, your heart beating wildly. It didn't help that you knew he could hear it.

His hand reached out, his fingertips grazing the fabric along your hip. "Silk?"

"Yeah," you breathed out.

His hand moved to your elbow, gently sliding its way up. His calloused fingertips left a burning trail in their wake as his hand paused just at the edge of your shoulder.

"Strapless?" he asked.

You shook your head, finding it suddenly hard to breathe with him touching you. "No," you whispered. "There's uh, there's thin straps. The uh, the neckline is a bit of a plunging V-neck. The dress dips down in the back a bit, too." You swallowed thickly, your heart in your throat. "It's floor length," you added quietly.

"I'm sure you look stunning," he whispered, his hand falling back to his side.

You smiled awkwardly, a nervous laugh leaving you. "Definitely an upgrade from jeans or sweatpants I suppose," you said, unsure how to take his compliment.

"I'm sure you always look stunning," he murmured.

You snorted in amusement, the sound sharp and inelegant. "I don't know about that."

His eyes narrowed at you, a slight frown at the corner of his mouth. And then a slow, warm smile spread across his face and he held his hand out towards you. You eyed it curiously, one brow raised.

"Care to come back inside and dance with me?" he asked, his eyes landing along your chest. "Karen hogged you enough for the night, I think."

You rolled your eyes grinning. "You have your pick of probably every single woman in there, Matt. I don't think–"

"I'd really like to dance with you," he told you, cutting you off, his hand still outstretched.

Your eyes darted down to the waiting hand. Why was he complimenting you so much this evening? Following you outside? Touching you like that and wanting to know how you looked tonight? And now he wanted to dance with you ? He hadn't even danced with Allison.

But his offer and that awaiting hand were too tempting to ignore with the alcohol buzzing in your system.

"Okay," you agreed, hesitantly placing your hand into his.

The smile on his face grew and he pulled you carefully towards him, wrapping your arm through his as you'd done a few times earlier today. Nervously you led the pair of you both back inside, his cane tapping lightly along the floor as you both walked.

A slow song was playing when you returned to the reception and your stomach twisted in knots. All the people on the dance floor were couples holding each other close, swaying gently together. You even spotted Foggy and Marci in the middle of the group, holding each other as they moved.

Matt leaned in beside you, whispering just over the music as he asked, "You mind if I drop the cane at the head table first? Might get in the way."

"I don't mind at all," you answered back.

As you led Matt towards the head table for a moment, him folding up his cane and setting it down, more questions hit you. Had Matt known what music was playing when he'd asked you to dance? Surely he should have known with his heightened senses, right?

But why would Matt want to slow dance with you?

He turned back around, arm still linked with yours, and then you anxiously guided the both of you out to the dance floor. When you both finally reached it, he released his arm from yours and turned to face you as his hands gradually made their way to rest along your hips. Hesitantly your hands lightly rested along his broad shoulders.

"Is this okay?" he asked you, leaning forward towards your ear to be heard over the music.

You could smell the faint cologne he was wearing for the night; it smelled warm and sort of like pine. Your eyes briefly closed, inhaling the scent again.

"Yeah," you answered him.

For the rest of the song you tried to relax, swaying with Matt in the throng of couples around you. But you felt a little tense and stiff, overly aware of his hands resting high on your hips and the way your chest occasionally brushed against his as you both danced. And then there was that look again, the one that left a faint smile on his lips and a fondness in his eyes as he stared down towards your collarbone and it had you feeling dizzy.

When the song ended your feet stopped, your hands about to let go of Matt, but his hands remained at your hips as another slow song came on.

"Would you stay with me for another dance?" he asked, a hopeful look on his face as he gazed down at you.

Your mouth opened as you stared momentarily wide eyed back at him. Quickly you recovered, placing your hands a bit more onto his shoulders as you nodded. "Sure, Matty," you mumbled.

His warm hands glided towards the small of your back, splayed wide over the soft fabric of the dress as he carefully pulled you into him. You gasped lightly in shock, Matt's mouth dipping down beside your ear a second later.

He whispered your name, the hair on the back of your neck rising at the sound of it from his lips as he was holding you like this. "Loosen up," he whispered next, warm breath fanning down your neck.

You only stiffened further against him, yet again your cheeks flushing as your heart raged inside of your chest. "You make me nervous," you admitted.

"Don't be nervous," he said, still speaking beside your ear. "It's just me."

You ducked your head, and with being this close to Matt, your forehead rested along the top of his chest at the movement. "I'm nervous because it's you," you murmured, your intoxicated brain not bothering to stop this particular admission. "You've always made me nervous."

"Why?" he asked.

You gnawed on your lipstick-covered lip, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. You shouldn't be saying this, not to Matt. Your hands abruptly pushed against his shoulders, trying to get away from this situation, but he only held you tighter.

"Matt," you said his name like a plea, pushing against him again.

"Tell me, please?" he practically begged.

You shook your head, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. You couldn't tell Matt, couldn't ruin the friendship you both had. He had to know, with what you knew he could pick up on, he had to know. Why was he doing this?

"No, Matt, stop," you mumbled.

"Hey," he said gently, one hand leaving your back to gingerly tilt your face up towards his. His eyes were creased in concern. "Don't cry, please don't cry. I'm not trying to upset you. I just–" he bit his lip, gazing down at you, "–I have feelings for you. I've had them for a while. Since that night I overheard you and your friend at Josie’s talking about me. The night we met."

You stopped pushing to get away from Matt, your eyes slowly making their way up towards his face. "What?" you asked, disbelief in your tone.

"I like you," he whispered earnestly. "I always have. I just could never tell if you felt that way too or if it was just your normal nerves when your body reacted around me. I mean, I know you found me attractive, but I didn't know if you felt anything more. Especially knowing that other side of me. And I–I was afraid of ruining our friendship by saying something. But I can't help but think, after today, that you feel it, too…?"

"Matt–I…" you stammered, voice trailing off.

You were at a loss for words. Matt liked you? He liked you like that, too?

"I–I didn't read you wrong, did I?" he asked apprehensively, his face pinching with worry as you both stopped swaying to the song.

"No, Matt, I…I like you too," you confessed, your face feeling like it was on fire now. "I always have but you're…" You trailed off again, awkward embarrassment burning through you.

"I'm what?" he pressed.

"You are way out of my league, Matt," you muttered uncomfortably.

"What?" he asked, shocked.

You swallowed hard, nerves returning as you abruptly word vomited everything that came next. "You and Foggy are these successful, well-spoken, intelligent lawyers who help so many and do so much good for the people of Hell’s Kitchen. And you're so damn charming and outspoken and smart and impossibly attractive. And then there's the whole other thing you do, which yes, not ideal, but you're like a damn superhero and I'm just…just an awkward, socially inept journalist. I'm not–not anything special, Matt."

When you finally managed to catch a breath and look up at Matt, he was staring down at you with a sad smile on his face. Slowly he leaned in, resting his forehead to yours.

"You're special to me," he whispered. "And if you would stop being so hard on yourself, if you could see yourself like I do, you'd understand." His hand released your chin, instead resting along your face, cupping your cheek. “You’re absolutely charming and you're smart and resourceful as hell. You’re hilarious and vivacious and so goddamn adorable that it hurts sometimes. You're sweet and always so considerate of me. And I know without a doubt that every inch of you is beautiful, inside and out.” He smiled at you, his forehead still resting along yours as he said your name so softly. “ You are out of my league.”

A faint smile spread over your lips, cheeks still flushed and feeling lightheaded as a disbelieving scoff escaped you. “I find that hard to believe, Matt,” you murmured.

“It’s the truth,” he whispered back.

Slowly, you relaxed a bit in his arms as tears pricked your eyes for an entirely different reason now. Your hands gradually slid over his shoulders, making their way around the back of his neck as you carefully rested your head against his shoulder, the two of you moving with the music again.

"Much better," he murmured into your ear, his own hands pulling you tighter into him as they rested on the small of your back.

The two of you danced for a bit longer, your bodies close as you swayed to a few more songs. Eventually the pair of you parted when the music picked back up, Matt promising the two of you would continue the conversation at a later time.

Standing in front of the mirror above the dresser in your hotel room, you continued to search for every bobby pin in your hair. You'd already changed out of your dress, throwing on a pair of comfortable cotton shorts and a soft tank top to sleep in before washing off the thick layer of makeup the makeup artist had applied this morning.

So far you'd managed to pull out five bobby pins, but you could still feel more of them in your still partially pinned up hair. The hair spray made your hair feel a little less soft as you dug around searching for the pins, but you didn't feel like showering tonight. You'd shower in the morning before the brunch Marci had planned in the hotel restaurant downstairs for the family and bridal party.

Two soft knocks came from the door next to you and you jumped, startling at the unexpected sound. And then you heard Matt hesitantly call your name from the other side.

"Yeah?" you answered back curiously.

"Do you mind if I come in?" he asked, his tone nervous.

Your hands fell from your hair, heading over towards the locked door that adjoined your two rooms. You slid back the lock and then turned the handle, the door opening to reveal a disheveled Matt in a dark blue tee-shirt and dark gray sweatpants. Your eyes momentarily scanned his casual appearance, one you hadn’t really seen before. Usually Matt was in his dress pants and button up dress shirts, tie and suit jacket on. Or he'd be in nice jeans and a nice shirt when you'd see him on the weekends and he hadn't been at work. Obviously you'd seen him in Daredevil's suit, but somehow this side of him felt different. Softer and more vulnerable.

"Hey," you greeted him quietly.

He smiled back at you. "Hey," he answered just as quietly back. "You uh, you mind if I come over for a bit?" he asked.

“Oh, no, not at all,” you said, stepping aside and letting him pass through. You left the door open between your rooms, heading back over to the mirror above the dresser. “I’m just trying to finish pulling the last of these damned bobby pins out of my hair. What’s going on?”

“Would you like some help with that?” he asked, his reflection in the mirror gesturing a hand towards your hair.

“Uh, sure,” you answered nervously.

Matt crossed the few steps of space between you, coming to stand just behind you. You could feel the warmth of him at your back just before both of his hands carefully felt their way around your hair, his breath blowing just over the top of your head and back of your neck as he worked. He immediately found a pin and deftly slipped it out of your curled locks, reaching around you, his chest brushing against your back as one hand remained in your hair as he placed it on the dresser beside the others. And then he straightened back up, searching for more. The feel of his hands running through your hair, with the warmth of him at your back and the feel of his breath washing over you, while he still smelled faintly like the cologne he’d been wearing despite his wardrobe change, had goosebumps raising along your arms and your eyelids lowering. Your heart, on the other hand, had picked up its pace.

“So…what’s the reason for the late night visit?” you eventually asked again.

“I’m just nervous being here,” he admitted.

Your face fell, eyes opening. “Oh, I’m–”

“Not here with you,” he corrected quickly. “Just here in general. So far from Hell’s Kitchen. I’ve…never been this far from it before.”

You relaxed under the ministrations of his hands again. “I was wondering how you were handling that last night,” you told him. “Especially with heightened senses in a hotel room.”

“The answer is not great,” he replied. “But I pushed through it. I’m here for Foggy and Marci. It’s just one more night now. But it’s…still really hard to sleep here. The bed is so lumpy and the sheets are scratchy. I can hear so many different lights buzzing around this entire building nonstop. Not to mention everyone snoring or talking or doing–” I saw his reflection cringe in the mirror, “–other things that I had to actively find a way to tune out.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you breathed out. “How’d you manage to ignore it? Music? Turn on the television?”

You watched a bit of pink tinge his cheeks in the mirror and you wondered if you were imagining the flush to his cheeks or not. Since when did Matt Murdock blush?

“You, actually,” he whispered.

“Me?” you asked in shock.

“Your heartbeat,” he clarified. “And your breathing, actually. I uh, I focused on that instead last night. Eventually I managed to fall asleep for a bit.” He frowned then, his sightless gaze focused on your hair as he pulled out another pin. “Sorry if that was intrusive, by the way. I wasn’t trying to be. I was just desperate and you were asleep. They were just…calming.”

You licked your lips nervously, studying his reflection in the mirror. You somehow didn’t find yourself embarrassed by his admission, rather you felt…flattered.

“That’s okay, Matt,” you whispered. “I don’t mind.” You watched him for a moment, and before you could stop yourself you asked, “Do you want to stay here tonight? Would that help?”

His hands stopped what they were doing in your hair, his body going rigid behind you. Instantly you felt uncomfortable and winced.

“Nevermind, that was weird,” you backtracked quickly. “I just meant if it would help you to sleep tonight, but that was really forward of me. Forget I said anything.”

He cleared his throat, hands still tangled in your hair. “I…actually would have gladly taken you up on that, if you meant it.”

“Would it–would it help?” you stammered out.

“If you didn’t mind me focusing on you again like that,” he answered. “If you didn’t feel like it was intrusive. I am not interested in hearing what Marci and Foggy are about to get up to soon.”

Your face turned red, remembering Marci’s earlier comment about having great sex tonight. “Yeah, shit, I can’t imagine. You’re welcome to stay, if you want. I don’t mind. But I was planning to sleep once I got these out. I’m pretty tired from this weekend already,” you told him.

“Believe me,” he said, his reflection showing him grinning behind you, “I could definitely sleep.”

It was a few more minutes before Matt found the last three bobby pins in your hair, placing them on the dresser. You thanked him before hesitantly making your way over to one side of the bed. Matt slowly headed to the other side, his gaze landing around your chest.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” you questioned back.

He raised a hand, gesturing towards you. “Your heart is racing.”

You laughed a little nervously, pulling the sheets back and sitting on the mattress. “Well, I didn’t exactly start the day thinking you’d be in my bed tonight.” Immediately your eyes went wide at the cheeky smile that spread across his mouth. “Not like that!” you added quickly, cheeks burning. “Shit, no, I didn’t–”

“Relax, I know what you meant,” he soothed, pulling the sheets back beside him.

“I’m beginning to think,” you said, reaching a hand out to turn off the lamp beside you, throwing the room into darkness, “that you enjoy when I say stupid shit around you when I’m nervous.”

“I think it’s cute, yes,” he admitted, the smile apparent in his tone.

You laid down on the pillow, scoffing lightly as you felt the bed shift beside you as Matt climbed onto it. It was only a matter of moments before you could feel his warmth radiating from his side of the bed towards you. And then your heart stuttered in your chest, the weight of the evening falling on you. Matt had confessed he had feelings for you , and now he was in your bed and falling asleep next to you .

For a moment you just laid there on your back, staring up at the ceiling nervously, your eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering in from the window just to the side of you. Matt was on your left also laying on his back. A quick scan out of the corner of your eye proved that he was awake, his eyes blankly staring up towards the ceiling as well.

“You’re uncomfortable,” Matt called out through the dark.

“Nervous,” you corrected quickly.

You saw his head shift on the pillow, turning towards you. “Would you be less nervous if we touched?”

Your heart nearly sky-rocketed out of your chest at his question. Matt’s warm chuckle filled the darkened room around you instantly.

“I meant if we cuddled,” he said, highly amused. “Instead of laying here like stiff boards trying to avoid it.”

“Oh, right,” you breathed out, heart still racing. “Maybe?”

Matt immediately rolled onto his side towards you, one hand snaking its way past your stomach, part of his warm palm brushing skin where your shirt had ridden up. His hand finally came to rest at your hip. He rested his head beside yours, just above your shoulder. Cautiously you slid a hand up, lightly placing it along the forearm that he had across your stomach. You tried to will your heart to calm down.

“Better?” he asked.

“Maybe uh,” you began, swallowing nervously, “maybe give my brain a minute to catch up to what is even happening tonight.”

He laughed lightly beside you, his mouth so close to your ear. “You really couldn’t tell that I liked you?”

You blew out a rough breath, shaking your head. “I still can’t believe you even talked to me that first night at Josie’s,” you admitted. “Liking me is still not in my realm of comprehension.”

Matt’s head rose from off the pillow and you turned to look at him. In the dim light you could see the tender way he was gazing back at you.

“And what would you say,” he began softly, his hand on your hip sliding its way back out from underneath your hand, drawing it up to brush the hair away from your face, “if I asked for one kiss? Can that be in the realm of comprehension for you tonight?”

Your lips parted in surprise. A startled, anxious noise left your mouth instead of words. Matt only grinned in response, his hand now affectionately stroking your cheek as he stared down at you.

“You’ll have to help me, sweetheart,” he teased. “Was that a yes or a no?”

“Yes,” you breathed out.

His fingers continued to gently brush along the skin of your cheek, his calloused fingertips pleasantly scratching along the smooth skin as he continued to gaze down at you. You felt anticipatory goosebumps rise along your entire body along with a nervous, tingling sensation that had the hairs rising on your arms. Very slowly he leaned in, his hand cupping your cheek just as his warm mouth finally met yours.

Your eyes snapped shut, your brain short-circuiting. Matt was kissing you. Those soft, full lips that you’d so often admired and occasionally imagined a few too many times were actually moving so deliberate and slow against yours. After over a year of yearning for this very moment, your brain was struggling to process what was happening; it felt like sensory overload.

Your mouth took a moment to respond, but when it did, you were kissing him back tentatively, still a little uncertain how the night had gotten to this point. One of your hands reached out as if to grab him–somewhere, anywhere –but it remained hovering nervously in the air.

You barely had a chance to recover when he pulled away, your eyes still closed as you laid there trying to catch your breath. You could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours, and as your tongue anxiously wetted your lips, you could still faintly taste his mouth, too.

When you finally recovered, opening your eyes and lowering your hovering hand, he was staring down at you with a smile. Your heart briefly skipped a beat at the sight.

“I have wanted to do that for so long,” he admitted quietly.

“You have no idea how much I’ve thought about that this past year,” you blurted a little breathlessly.

Matt huffed out an amused laugh, his thumb returning to stroking your cheek. “What if I asked to kiss you again?” he questioned, the corners of his lips tugging faintly upwards.

“I’d say you don’t have to ask,” you answered quickly.

Feeling suddenly emboldened, your hand darted out, grabbing the side of Matt’s jaw; the rasp of his stubble was warm and pleasant in your palm as you eagerly pulled his mouth back down to yours. You felt him briefly smiling against your lips at your abrupt and uncharacteristic tenacity before his focus was back on your mouth. Your hand slid its way back, raking through his soft hair before your fingers gripped a bit of the silky strands. Your stomach somersaulted at the feel of his mouth finally on yours. You pulled him a little closer to yourself, Matt easily obliging as his chest carefully pressed into yours. Your heart was thundering in your ears at this point, your mind entirely blank except for one thought.

Matt was a good kisser–a very good kisser.

When he eventually pulled back just a fraction, a soft whine left your lips at the absence of his. You hadn't been ready to end that.

“We should probably really get some sleep,” he whispered, a cheeky grin on his face as his eyes darted towards your chest. “Your heart sounds like it needs a break.”

You bit your lip, moderately embarrassed. “Sorry, probably won’t be all that calming for you to focus on tonight,” you said.

He chuckled softly, head falling back to lay beside yours on the pillow. “It’ll calm down eventually,” he assured you. “Probably not until you fall asleep, though,” he added teasingly. “But I enjoy hearing it like this, too.”

You snorted out a laugh beside him. “Why? You like the idea of giving me a heart attack?” you joked back.

His arm snaked its way back over your stomach, his face burying into the side of your shoulder. You could feel the smile forming on his mouth against your skin.

“No, I like hearing the way you respond to me,” he answered. “Even if it was confusing for me to realize that’s indeed what it was doing all this time. Your body is just so–” he paused, lightly kissing the skin of your bare shoulder beside his mouth and you shuddered beneath the touch, feeling his lips smiling again, “–reactive to me. It’s…pleasurable.”

You felt the blood rush south instantly in your body, immediately becoming marginally aroused laying in bed with Matt cuddled up to your side, mentioning things about your body being pleasurable as his lips kept brushing your bare skin. And then he let out another amused, deep chuckle beside you and your eyes went wide in the dark.

“Oh my God, Matt!” you nearly shrieked.

He laughed harder, his body lightly shaking against yours with the movement. Your cheeks were aflame for the hundredth time tonight. Of course he could tell when your body reacted like that , because why wouldn’t he be able to make you even more anxious and self-conscious?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said between a laugh. “I wasn’t trying to do…well, that.”

Your hands flew to your face and you groaned in embarrassment. “Can we just try to sleep before I embarrass myself further?” you asked, your voice muffled through your hands.

“Yes, sorry,” he answered. You felt his lips place another kiss to your shoulder and a shiver ran down your spine. “But for the record,” he whispered, “you’re not embarrassing yourself.”

“Sure feels like it,” you grumbled, your hands falling from your face.

“Here,” he said, shifting on the bed.

Both of his arms came to wrap around you, his hands tugging you onto your side facing him so both of your bodies were nearly flush together. He slid one hand over your hips and onto your back where it began to trace soothing patterns just over your shirt. Your eyelids slowly lowered, goosebumps yet again dotting your skin.

“Better?” he asked.

“Mmm,” you hummed back.

“Good, just relax. Stop overthinking,” he murmured, his face so close to yours.

“Easier said than done,” you muttered. “Especially with you this close.”

He laughed lightly, his hand still drawing soothing patterns on your lower back. Boldly, your hand carefully slid its way over his hips and wrapped around his back, lightly fisting the soft material of his shirt. His face shifted closer towards yours on the pillow in response, his nose just lightly brushing yours.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered, uttering the term of endearment that seemed determined to stick.

“Goodnight, Matty,” you whispered back.

Your breathing eventually evened out as you lay wrapped in his arms, relaxing into the warmth of him along the front of you, the scent of him filling your nose with every inhale, and his hand’s pacifying movements along your lower back lulling you further to sleep.

You’d deal with the reality of whatever had just happened tonight in the morning.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fic #matt murdock series #matt murdock x fem reader #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x fem!reader #fftd

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starryriize · 6 months

Text

picture perfect | leehan

part 2 - the invite

a/n: i will admit, this did take me longer than i thought.😭 i’m sorry to people who might’ve been waiting for this btw :( but i do hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this !! <3

summary/preview , part one , part two

pairing: photographer! Leehan and model! reader

After two years of being a professional photographer for watch companies, Leehan remains true to his craft, choosing to only focus on photography and work. Any model he worked with, he made sure it was strictly business.

But there was something different about this event. Perhaps it was the music and the lights or maybe it was the adrenaline talking, but something changed Leehan's mind. You. He first saw you in the advert at the entrance of the party. At first, it was the elegance of the watch that he was interested in, quietly appreciating the beauty within the silver and gold dial. His eyes grazed over the watch in the picture before he finally saw the model. The watch accentuated her sharp, yet somehow soft features. Her eyes were deep, full of intense emotion, as though she was a siren. Why had he never seen you before? He stilled, wondering where Omega found you because, to him, everything about you was timeless, classy, and elegant.

God, events like this drained him as he stared blankly at the woman on stage, watching as she rambled on about the handmade details of the new watch collection. Your face flashed across the screen as the various pieces were shown. The lights were slightly dimmed, but he could still see the sparkle of the lights reflected on your hair.

—

Across the room, you were busy mingling, chatting with the whose who of Omega. The party itself was very well organized, with the servers being incredibly attentive to all the guests. You beckoned a server over, passing your empty champagne glass to him.

The gala was…interesting to say the least. Thousands of fairy lights and flowers were hung from the ceiling, creating a magical atmosphere. The lights, paired with a mist that traveled across the floor, made each person look as though they’d just fallen out of wonderland. Soft, classical music reverberated through the air, enticing people to gather onto the dance floor.

You stood at the edge of the ballroom, analyzing the gracefulness of the other models invited, as they spun around the floor. The couple you were watching finished their dance with a twirl and a gentle kiss on the lady’s hand. Your eyes glanced across the expanse of the room once more, noticing a man by his lonesome also watching the couples dance.

The man wore an outfit that made him look as though he’d just come from the woods. His hair was slightly messy, probably from mingling too, you thought to yourself. He had a tall stature and was incredibly handsome, but there was something familiar about him. After a few seconds, it finally dawned on you why he was familiar to you. He was Leehan, the famous photographer for Omega. Of course! you thought to yourself. You’d been told before that you’d be working with him. So, naturally, you fluffed your light blue gown and made your way over to him.

—

Leehan was no fool. He knew that you were watching him from across the room. Honestly, it gave him an adrenaline rush that you stared at him for so long, knowing a girl as pretty as you found him handsome. Putting his wine on the draped table behind him, he noticed you were making your way towards him. You...were absolutely enchanting, he thought to himself.

A few strides and you found yourself in front of Leehan. Was he always this gorgeous up close? You took a deep breath, hoping he couldn't hear how fast your heart was beating. He stared at you, his gaze slowly traveling over your figure as if you were the finest piece of jewelry.

Leehan’s one rule of not blurring the line between business and personal relationships was starting to change as he stared ever so deeply at you. For you, he’d risk it all. He winked at you as he joked, “Milady, where’s your prince?” You stifle a laugh, looking back up at him. Amused, you smack him lightly, chiding, “Why? Are you offering to be my prince for the night?”

"Maybe." He paused, "I've forgotten to introduce myself. I'm Leehan, the photographer." He extended his hand, eyes hopeful for you to shake his hand too.

Flashing him a small smile, you take his extended hand, firmly shaking it. "I'm Y/n, one of the new models. Aren't you being humble? I seem to recall numerous brands wanted you as their photographer but you declined."

Leehan intently stared at you, letting go of your hand. He pursed his lips in thought before saying, "Yes, well, I have standards..." He trailed off, eyes leaving your figure to look at the decorations around him.

He throws his head back, awkwardly laughing before smiling down at you. The laughter subsided and once again, you found yourself under Leehan’s intense gaze. Your confidence was slowly crumbling as he stared at you, unblinking. The risks of starting a relationship with him were running through your mind. But you didn’t care. In this precise moment, as you locked eyes with Leehan, time could stop and you’d still find yourself searching for him. Your very own prince of time.

“Can I…kiss you?” Leehan knew saying that was a risk, perhaps because you were a stranger, but he wasn’t thinking about that. He flicked his eyes downward at your plush lips, painted a beautiful pink. Your eyes searched his for any hint of doubt. And you decided you had nothing to lose as you placed your hand on his cheek, slowly closing the distance between the two of you.

The kiss itself was innocent, yet filled with unspoken desires. Leehan slid his hand into your hair, relishing in the warmth of your lips and how it tasted of Champagne. You were melting in the way his lips moved so perfectly against yours. Smiling softy into his lips, you pull away, not missing the small whine he let out. His face was flushed but he was unable to hide his grin. You leaned your head into his chest, feeling comfortable as you heard the soft thumps of his heartbeat. He gently kissed the crown of your head, saying, “Dinner at White Capitol?”

You smile, taking his hand in yours, holding it tightly. “As long as you pay.” You know he’s going to pay, as he’s ever the gentleman. And you think of the risks again before deciding that he’s a risk worth taking.

—

The End 🫶🏼

#laur’s thoughts 🧚🏼‍♀️#bnd imagines #bnd fluff #boynextdoor imagines #bnd x reader #bnd leehan #leehan x reader #boynextdoor leehan

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comfymoth · 9 months

Note

If there were to be a dancer AU, what kind of dancers do you think some of the qsmp people would be? And maybe a duo is like- an actual duo in ice skating or ballet! Just a silly little idea I had in the back of my head :D

several wikipedia searches and one very nostalgic re-watch of strictly ballroom later, i’ve returned with thoughts. good thoughts? ehhh. cohesive thoughts? an even less convincing ehhhh. but i do have thoughts!

anyways. have a competitive ballroom dance au made by someone who knows nothing about competitive ballroom dance

roier and spreen as long-term dance partners just makes sense in my brain, but naturally that has to end badly, probably because roier’s been chasing a relationship while spreen’s just been chasing a win. the last routine they competed with was a tango. (did you know there’s a variation called the argentine tango? it isn’t ballroom, but apparently, the accompanying music is known to be sad)

forever and cellbit have also been partners for- well, forever, and dating for most of that time, but naturally that also has to end. with a breakup. a messy, messy breakup that they can not stay professional throughout, and in the end it’s best for the team to split and give it time. the last routine they competed with was a samba. (ballroom samba is pretty disconnected from brazilian samba— samba de gafieira or samba pagode would be better examples of partnered brazilian sambas)

roier doesn’t actually meet cellbit through dance. he meets him at a coffee shop— where he then proceeds to recognize him from nationals and talk his fucking ear off about dance. see, roier is anxious to get back into competing, more out of spite than anything else. cellbit, on the other hand, is much more hesitant. he has no plans to go back any time soon. roier does still manage to talk him into visiting his studio, but that’s just for fun, he swears, just a little social thing, to mess around and practice. and maybe it is fun. maybe cellbit keeps going back, maybe it becomes a routine. maybe they really get along. maybe- maybe it’s a good distraction for roier, actually, to take his mind off competition and just enjoy dancing again. and maybe it’s good for cellbit to remember why he liked this enough to compete in the first place.

they do become a pair, eventually. and they do make it back to nationals. the first routine they compete with is a viennese waltz. (the main difference between a viennese waltz and a standard waltz is the tempo, but both are traditionally used for weddings)

#qsmp #when i started writing this post it was still light outside. hm. oops #dance au

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wangxianficfinder · 1 year

Text

Musician / Orchestra

~*~

Out of the Bin and Into Your Heart by Alaceron (T, 27k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fake/Pretend relationship, Oblivious WWX)

Carefully Orchestrated Plans (no strings attached) by Maledictius (T, 101k, WangXian, Modern AU, Chatting & Messaging, Orchestra, Fluff and Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gossip) - has an ensemble cast with multiple ships, including Wangxian

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes (T, 206k, XiCheng, WangXian, Modern AU, Reality TV, Slow Burn, Romance, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, BAMF JYL) - is Jiang Cheng-centric, but WWX plays a central role and the Wangxian is of roughly equal importance to the Xicheng imo

The Fault in Our Stars by Vamillepudding (T, 17k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Romantic Comedy, Comedy of Errors, Misunderstandings)

Pop and Prejudice by flowerofgusu (E, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Popstar, Pining, Misunderstandings, popstar wwx and music critic lwj, Falling In Love, Pride and Prejudice References, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, POV LWJ, LWJ Has Feelings, Pining LWJ, Famous WWX and Non-Famous LWJ, First Time, Light Angst, Soft WangXian)

Wangxian Strictly AU Series by Selenay (E/M, 135k, WangXian, Modern: No Powers, Dance, Strictly Come Dancing Fusion, Ballroom Dancing, Dancer!WWX, Violinist LWJ, Pining While Dancing, Oblivious WWX, Gratuitous Costume Descriptions, Gratuitous dancing descriptions, Slow Burn, [Podfic] Falling to the Rhythm by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona))

The Right to Care by travelingneuritis (E, 61k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mood Whiplash, musician LWJ, nanny wwx, Developing Relationship, Breakup, Texting, Pining, Eventual Happy Ending, Adoption, Child Abuse, abuse intervention, Miscommunication)

总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie (E, 76k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pianist,Getting Together, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Hospitals, Overdosing, Eventual Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, This is really rough but it is hopeful!) - incredible fic but really need to make note of the content warnings

Themes and Variations in F# Major by defractum (nyargles) (E, 18k, WangXian, Modern AU, Classical Music, Getting Together, POV Alternating, Long-Distance Friendship)

The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Kid Fic, explicit in much much later chapters, green card marriage (but not really), pining for your own husband, endless pining, Slow Burn, Happy Ending, Nothing else bad or traumatic happens to the baby) - the music actually has very little to do with this fic but I'd be doing a disservice if I didn't mention this one

Hear a song this deeply by so_shhy (T, 87k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, modern cultivation au, Kind of academia AU, Music, Kid Fic, Action/Adventure, To An Extent, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending) - this one is more music cultivation than musician but there's a lot of musicality involved

through a window softly by impossibletruths (T, 14k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Neighbors, Music, They Play Music Together But They've Never Met, It's very romantic, Graduate School, through a window softly by impossibletruths [podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea))

always on my mind Series by Sami (Varies, 39k, WangXian, Modern AU, references to past LWJ/others, references to past WWX/WQ, Family, Sexual Tension, set in the early 90s, Background Xicheng, Grief, Family, Erratic Gay Superstar Musician LWJ, Domestic Fluff, Pregnancy, not mpreg, Parenthood, Slice of Life)

Counterpoint by Magnolias-by-the-Window (JustAnotherAbby), maichan, Tsuminoaru (T, 33k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Classical Music, POV Alternating, Orchestra, Getting Together, Mutual Pining)

for you, andante by xuanxuanwo (ostentatiouslyrealistic) (T, 35k, WangXian, Modern AU, Music, Musicians, Pianist LWJ, Guitarist WWX, Kid Fic, Coffee Shops, Bookstores, Existential Crisis, Unrelated JGY & QS, Friendship, Romance, Light Angst, Happy Ending)

Zero by theladyofravenclaw (G, 19k, WangXian, Modern AU, Soulmates AU, Musicians, Friends to Lovers, Reincarnation)

Scenes from a Tour by Nelmara (T, 9k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, orchestra au, fluff, travel, roommates, pining, LWJ pov)

Talisman by Witch_Nova221 (M, 192k, WangXian, Modern AU, Eventual Romance, Theatre, Rock Band, Childhood Friends, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Spousal Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Stalking, Minor Character Death, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining)

#Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #wangxian #MDZS #wangxianficfinder compilation post #long post #musician compilation #orchestra Compilation

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it-happened-one-fic · 1 year

Text

Polka - Fireproof - Strictly NRC Dancing

Author Notes: I never knew until know, but Polka's are actually quite fascinating and even have there own vocabulary verbs that pertain to the action of dancing the Polka. This was written to “Feuerfest! Polka francaise, Op. 269” by Joseph Strauss and the dance was inspired by the Bohemian National Polka which is danced in a ring with multiple people. A 2019 performance of this classic dance can be seen on Youtube. The performance took place in Ufa, Russia. Just like the rest of this AU/series the reader is female for this fic. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more this AU/series, the fics can be found here: Strictly NRC Dancing AU Master-List

Type: Dance AU/ female reader/ fluff/ can be taken as platonic or romantic

Word count: 1294

I joined Idia in the middle of our makeshift ballroom, taking up my spot next to him before glancing his way. He already looked nervous in the impressive ring of students that made up our polka group.

Across the ring from us stood Trey and Ace, both of whom waved at me. Ace throwing me a thumbs up from across the room, that Trey seemed to very strongly doubt.

Even during the practice session, there had been some very… Interesting motions coming from Ace.

At the very least, polkaing with them ought to be amusing.

Not as amusing as watching the two leaders of the polka ring, who were intended to keep everyone in time, would be though.

Sam and Trein both stood at the forefront of our ring. The older of the two already looking considerably more unhappy with his situation than his partner.

Normally, a polka wouldn’t have leaders. But Crewel and Trein had both already stated that, after practice, they could stand no more of people stomping their feet off beat, and since no one could seem to stay in time with each other, our polka would receive a leader pair. Sam and Trein just ended up being the lucky, or perhaps unlucky, duo.

Judging from their positions, Sam was going to be the follower in this sequence, which somehow made the situation all the more delightful. The very thought of Sam getting to sashay daintily around the history teacher was enough to put a smile on my face.

I leaned over, whispering quietly to Idia, “You and Ortho did practice the Bohemian National Polka, right?”

Yellow eyes snapped over to me, and for a brief second, there was only mild annoyance on Idia’s face rather than the anxiety that a crowd such as this and performing typically brought him, “Of course we did.”

He twisted to face me and inclined his head like a perfect gentleman as the music began, and I curtsied in response as he continued to whisper his words to me, “Now pipe down before someone hears you. Ortho downloading your motions and practicing with me definitely counts as cheating.”

I fought the urge to make a face at him as we began to skip forward step by step, “You’re the one who said ‘cheating,’ not me.”

It was almost funny to begin twisting along our considerably large circle. Changing into an odd half-open, half-closed position where he had one hand on my back with the other on his hip, we began to swirl around the floor, occasionally dipping into the middle of our ring and then back out right back out as the entire group polkaed around and around like an odd little carousel.

Idia was painfully awkward the whole time, muttering what seemed to be the steps we were doing to himself even as we were dancing. No doubt in an attempt to both calm and distract himself from the group that we danced with and the crowd that watched us via recitation.

But even with his nerves, Idia had thus far managed to time each foot stomp perfectly, which was more than I could say for a large number of the other leads.

Idia wasn’t the only one I felt bad for though. After all, there were also Trey and Trein.

Trey, who was stuck with Ace, was having to do his very best to ignore whatever it was that the red-haired first year was doing.

Trein, on the other hand, was having to put up with the all-too-pleased-looking Sam, who I could tell, even from a distance, was persistently harassing the older teacher.

My view of the other couples was broken when I was released to twirl freely, with Idia mirroring my motions perfectly. When I completed my twirl and was facing him once more, I was able to confirm that yes, this poor awkward boy was indeed mouthing the steps of the polka to himself.

“Idia,” I whispered his name, as the music’s tempo greatly increased and strange bell-like chimes filtered their way into the tune. From the way his eyes darted to my face in a questioning fashion, I got the distinct feeling he’d barely heard me, despite our close proximity, which, now that I thought about it, probably wasn't helping with his nerves.

I had to do something. He was going to end up going into a full-blown panic attack at this rate if I didn’t.

And what better way to distract someone than by teasing? At the very least, I knew the flighty housewarden of Ignihyde could handle that, “Don’t you think it’s kind of funny we're dancing to a song called Feuerfest?”

The confusion on his face was obvious as he released his hold on me and put his hands on his hips, lightly stepping forward as I danced backwards with my hands out and flat at my sides like I was acting coy. A single glance to the side showed a very done-looking Trein and an absolutely elated Sam.

“It’s German for fire-proof Idia,” My comment came when we swept back into hold and began polkaing once more.

His eyes widened as he spun me around, causing my skirt to swing wildly out to the side simply due to the sheer speed of our motions. I’d successfully gotten his attention off our fellow dancers, though.

“I shouldn’t have taken this class… It’s like a whole huge joke directed solely at me,” I cringed in sympathy because I knew exactly what he was talking about. Especially since I was the one that brought it up.

His swathe of fiery blue hair that was currently pulled back in a style not unlike what he wore during the ghost bride fiasco was definitely an interesting match for our song.

Idia released me, skipping sideways into the center as I went the other way. We met back up in the middle, with him beginning to clap as I twirled to the beat and calmly continued to speak to him, “I don’t know, I think it’s kind of fun.”

I grinned at him as we skipped back away from one another, “It’s not everyday I get to dance with you. And Ortho is so enjoying filming us.”

The lament in Idia’s voice was clear when he responded as he began walking alongside me as I spun freely with him clapping as he followed along behind me yet again, “I told him not to film this….”

I let myself laugh as Idia was forced to rapidly kneel, perfectly matching Trein’s timing, so I could skip gaily around him, “Embarrassed?”

He stood, accepting me back into hold as he all but scowled at me. Totally at odds with the cheerful music and dancing, “More like mortified, dancing isn’t my thing. Especially not social dancing….”

I couldn’t keep the grin off my face as we re-entered the far calmer section of the dancing, with us just skipping in a simple little ring along with everyone else, “But I thought you held the high score on Boogie Boogie Riot?”

Idia’s mouth twitched into the wide grin of his as he led me into the center of our ring, stomped his foot, and marched me back out, “That’s a little different, Y/n.”

“But maybe it’s why you’re so good at timing those stomps,” My comment was accentuated by yet another resounding foot stomp that was belatedly echoed throughout the room.

He stayed silent this time, but I could still see the slight smirk on his face.

If nothing else I’d learned that pretty much everyone in this school liked to be praised. And that included the socially anxious hermit who was surprisingly good at dancing, that was Idia.

Luckily, that dancing prowess showed in his passing grade.

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clockwork-ashes · 4 months

Text

All Things End - Part II

Find Part I here :)

Summary: Everyone knows her as the Lady of Autumn, but before she had a title, she hoped she could marry for love.

Callista knew at once that the young male on her hidden balcony was from the Day Court. If the dark red chiton and laced sandals hadn’t given it away, the golden crown fashioned to look like the rays of the sun would have. From where she was standing, it looked like he was gazing up at the stars. He hadn’t noticed her yet, and it would have been easy for her to simply turn around and sneak away, but Callista found she did not want to.

“I see someone else has found this lovely little hiding spot,” she said, hoping that he wouldn’t find it too forward of her. In Autumn, it was strictly forbidden to speak to anyone had you not already been formally introduced to them.

The young male’s head turned sharply at the sound of her voice, whiskey coloured eyes wide in surprise. “Lady Callista,” he managed to say, looking like he’d much rather pitch himself from the balcony than have to spend another second longer in her company.

Callista recognized him at once as the quiet, bookish son of the High Lord of Day. How he remembered her, she couldn’t guess. She supposed they had met for a moment, earlier in the week, glad that at least if anyone happened to wander upon them, all the proper introductions had been made. Callista wouldn’t have thought that a High Lord’s heir would remember her and she was quite pleased by the fact.

She flashed him a genuine smile and dipped in an elegant curtsy, “Lord Helion.” When she looked back up at Helion, his expression reminded Callista of a deer in the woods that had just spotted a wolf. She feared if she spoke again he might bolt, so instead of saying anything, Callista tilted her head just a bit, taking in his clothes once more. The attire of the other courts fascinated her, especially the courts with warmer weather. In Autumn, everyone always dressed so that as little skin as possible could be seen. All the males laced their shirts up to their throats, and all females wore skirts that fell to the floor. Seeing someone's forearms was a great offence, and seeing someone’s knees was practically a sin.

“I should leave,” Helion spoke into the near-silent night, his voice lovely. The rustling leaves of the nearby forest and the soft music drifting out from the ballroom could be heard. If Callista had known the Day Court heir better, she would have thought he sounded a bit nervous.

“That’s hardly necessary,” Callista said, putting herself in his path. “There’s enough room on this balcony for two.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” He asked, polite and reserved. He didn’t have that strange look on his face any more, and Callista was glad for it. He tucked a strand of dark hair behind his ear, Callista’s eyes following the gesture. Even that seemed to be a timid sort of action. Callista didn’t exactly know why, but she wanted him to stay. There was something incredibly familiar about the quiet heir of Day.

“As long as you promise not to be unbearably tedious,” Callista responded with a grin.

His answering laugh sent shivers up her spine. It was a quiet thing, warm and private, a laugh that seemed to be for her ears only. “I suppose the company in the ballroom hasn’t gotten any better, then?”

“I daresay it’s gotten worse,” Callista replied, stepping past Helion so that she could throw herself dramatically against the little bench by the rails.

Helion kept a respectful distance, leaning up against the balcony’s opposite wall. He nodded, tongue darting out to lick his lips. Callista’s eyes tracked the movement in a way that could hardly be deemed respectful, but Helion didn’t seem to notice.

“Perhaps the company leaves little to be desired, but Autumn truly is quite lovely.” When Callista raised a questioning auburn brow at him, he cleared his throat, hand coming up to the back of his neck. “Present company excluded, of course.”

Callista decided that she found his shyness quite charming. “Autumn really is beautiful,” she said with a smile. “And the people aren’t so bad once you get to know them.”

“I meant no offence,” Helion said with a grimace. “I just–I don’t get out much.”

Callista tilted her head, “What do you do, in Day? I’ve been, you know,” she added after asking her question.

“I study, mostly.” Even Callista knew he was a scholar. “I go to the beach when my sister or my friends drag me there. I spend a lot of time with my father, learning how to lead a court, and a lot of time with my mother, working in the archives or studying military strategy.” He shrugged, “Ordinary things, I suppose.”

Callista caught the small detail about his mother, but decided that it wouldn’t be polite to ask him all the questions that were going through her head. “This is my first time in Autumn,” he added when Callista was too slow to come up with something to say.

“And what are your thoughts?” Callista asked, genuinely curious.

“I thought we liked jewellery in Day,” Helion said with a short laugh. “I was not expecting those in Autumn to wear so many rings.” His eyes flicked to Callista’s hands, where she was sure the light was catching on the rubies of her adorned fingers.

“It’s a sign of wealth,” Callista said, raising her chin just a bit. “Even the poorest of the lesser fae adorn themselves in shining metals. It is simply how things are done in Autumn.”

Helion nodded, twisting the cuff that hugged his bicep. Callista’s eyes caught the movement and she willed herself not to blush. “Everyone carries weapons with them, I’ve noticed,” Helion continued, entirely oblivious to the fact that Callista was struggling not to look at his bare arms.

“Well of course,” Callista replied, thinking of the three knives she had hidden on her. She adjusted her right sleeve, the one with her throwing knife, and decided she would simply have to stare at Helion’s face to prevent herself from becoming too distracted by him. “Don’t you carry a weapon with you, prince?” She teased.

“Not usually,” Helion said, returning Callista’s smile with a shy one of his own. “I would hardly have the need for one in a library, and I certainly don’t have them on me at Equinox balls.” At the furrow of Callista’s brow, he asked in a surprised tone, “Do… Do you have a weapon on you?”

“Many,” Callista waved her hand in a careless gesture. “One must always be prepared.”

“Of course,” Helion said, trying and failing to keep the shock from his voice. Callista actually snorted at his expression, before remembering it was hardly appropriate.

Just as she was about to apologise, Helion’s unguarded laughter had her blushing in truth. He had the loveliest smile. She could feel her cheeks burning, and she was sure that there were ember’s flaring in her russett gaze. He was really one of the most beautiful faeries Callista had ever seen, and she thought it would be nice to get to know him better, kind as he was.

But all good things had to end eventually, Callista supposed. She was sure she’d actually gone well over Stasya’s half hour, and that, while it was unfair, she had to return to the ballroom.

Callista sighed dramatically, standing with a tired huff. Helion watched as she smoothed her emerald skirts, and so she made a point to do so as gracefully as possible. “I must be getting back,” she declared, patting at her hair to ensure that all the golden, leaf-shaped combs were still in place. “My sister will have my head if I force her to distract the High Lord any longer.” Helion frowned, but didn’t ask her any questions. Callista lifted a brow at him, “You will remain here, I presume.”

“I would hide out here all night if I didn’t think it would disappoint my mother,” he replied warmly. Helion took his crown off for a moment, running a hand through his hair, before he carefully placed it back. Callista wondered if the crown was heavy. With a shy smile, eyes flicking past Callista, he added, “I’ll see you inside?”

Callista nodded, skirts in hand, as she stepped over the balcony’s threshold. “I’ll save you a dance.” She could practically hear the rapid beating of his heart as she ducked back into the hall. Callista knew it was very forward of her, telling the Day Court’s heir that she wished to dance with him, but she couldn’t exactly be bothered to care.

All thoughts of Beron Vanserra, a rumoured engagement, and a disastrous evening had escaped her thoughts completely. Callista was thinking only of Helion Spell-Cleaver, a scarlet blush still staining her cheeks, as she walked back into the High Lord of Autumn’s ballroom.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #helion x loa #helion spell cleaver x the lady of autumn #helion spell cleaver #lady of the autumn court #the lady of the autumn #the autumn court #because i cannot stop thinking about that one line in #acowar #ashes writes sometimes

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