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albapuella · 4 years

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How to Lose a Lover in 10 Days or Less: A Comprehensive Guide to Becoming a Future Romantic Failure (Chapter Three)

AO3

Fandom: Homestuck

Summary: How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days AU Dave needs to win a bet; Karkat needs to write an article. Shenanigans ensue.

Tags: Humanstuck, alternate universe - no sburb session, POV switches galore, implied/referenced child abuse Author’s note: This story is the result of a jam session I did with aceAdoxography on the davekat thirst federation discord server. This one's a little out of my usual wheelhouse, but I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. New chapters every Saturday/Sunday. Didn’t bother with the formatting this time: You want the fancy formatting, go to AO3 :D

Day 3:

Since Karkat had not managed to scare Dave off with the... outburst yesterday, he figured he’d hooked the idiot as well as he was ever going to. Which meant it was time to start fucking it up. He did his best to ignore the sense of loss already forming in his chest at the thought. Whatever frustrations he’d felt during that hang out/date thing Dave had put him through yesterday, he couldn’t deny that he’d enjoyed the experience, too.

Dave was a dork who talked too much, but he was also witty and charming in a maladroit sort of way. And it had been nice to have someone appreciate Karkat’s sense of humor in return. For once. A part of him wished he had longer to enjoy their time together, but he knew better.

Since he knew better, he also knew it wasn’t the time to mope. It was time to go on the full offensive. “Offensive” being the operative word. In this case, it meant acting like himself. Karkat had been on his best behavior up to this point, and now he’d show Dave who the “real him” really was. If he played his cards right, he probably wouldn’t even have to go on another date to seal the deal.

Karkat felt his eyes ache, and he hated himself for being such an idiot. He’d known this wasn’t going to last—even without his article, it never would have lasted. He’d already proven a countless number of times that, while a fairly good friend, he was simply terrible as a romantic partner. Dave was just one more guy he’d never really had a chance with. Just one more tally mark to add to his failures.

---

When Dave woke up the next day, he saw that he had quite a few messages waiting for him. A handful from Rose about wedding plans (with a reminder of the dress code, because of course her wedding would have a fully defined dress code). A bunch from his far-flung friend Jade (mostly telling a story which did not require more than a quick “cool” on his part). A couple from John (who was excited that he’d be seeing Dave at the wedding). There were also several from Karkat. Which was kind of a relief: Dave hadn’t liked that he’d been the first one to message him all the time: it made him feel like he was bugging the guy. Especially after waking him up yesterday.

CG: OKAY ASSHOLE, HERE’S THE DEAL:

CG: YOU WANT TO DATE THE REAL ME. FINE.

CG: I AM DONE BEING ON MY BEST BEHAVIOR.

CG: BE PREPARED FOR ME TO COMMENT ON EVERY INANITY THAT DRIBBLES FROM YOUR MOUTH LIKE THE LEAVINGS OF AN INCONTINENT PIGEON.

CG: YOU ARE NOT HALF AS FUNNY AS YOU THINK YOU ARE. ALSO YOUR “RAPS” ARE AN AFFRONT TO THE GENRE AS WELL AS TO THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

CG: IF YOU THINK I AM JOKING OR BEING “CUTE”, YOU ARE WRONG. A STATE YOU SHOULD BE EXTREMELY FAMILIAR WITH BECAUSE YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY SUFFERING FROM AT LEAST MODERATE BRAIN DAMAGE.

CG: I AM NOT NOR HAVE I EVER BEEN “A SNACK”. I ALSO DO NOT HAVE A “SEXY PROFESSOR THING GOING”. IN THE ENTIRE SPAN OF MY MISERABLE EXISTENCE, I HAVE NEVER BEEN ANYTHING WHICH COULD BE CONSIDERED TO BE IN EVEN THE MEAGEREST OF WAYS “SEXY”.

CG: MAYBE YOU WOULD BE ABLE TO SEE THAT FOR YOURSELF IF YOU EVER TOOK OFF THOSE DOUCHE SHADES YOU ARE ALWAYS WEARING.

CG: I HOPE YOU HAVE ENJOYED THIS SMALL TASTE OF WHAT IS TO COME IN YOUR FUTURE SHOULD YOU DECIDE TO KEEP DATING ME.

Dave read the messages a few times, frowning. Mostly, he felt confused, too confused to feel either amused or insulted. Sudden. This was sudden. Also, the more he read the messages, the more he thought Karkat was being more mean to himself than to Dave. His inner Rose (the voice which sounded like Rose but was not nearly as smart as the real thing) said that Karkat was lashing out, hoping to hurt Dave before Dave could hurt him.

And wasn’t that sad?

TG: first of all

TG: you are a total snack

TG: this is not negotiable

TG: do not pass go do not collect 200 dollars

TG: not to be all objectifying or whatever

TG: but that was literally the first thing i thought when i saw you

TG: that guy is a total snack

TG: and fuck you you are sexy

TG: i bet you look even better without the sweater

TG: you are the bank and im the debtor

TG: payin compliments is my cheddar

TG: need proof read the letter

TG: dear mr vantas you are hella sexy signed me

CG: OH MY GOD.

CG: THAT WAS THE PART YOU CHOSE TO FOCUS ON. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOU AT ALL. MOST PEOPLE DON’T LIKE BEING INSULTED. IS THIS A KINK FOR YOU? IS THAT WHAT THIS IS? ARE YOU A FUCKING MASOCHIST?

Dave was grinning so much his cheeks hurt. Nailed it.

TG: im not a masochist

TG: but i think i might be getting a thing for grumpy assholes

TG: it needs more testing

TG: how about we hang out for a few hours today

TG: and see

“CG is typing” appeared and disappeared several times.

CG: REALLY. YOU REALLY WANT TO KEEP DATING ME.

TG: yea unless you dont want to keep dating me

TG: i hope you do

TG: want to keep dating me

TG: i want to know you better

TG: and kiss you sometime

This time the “CG is typing” message went on for quite a while. Dave wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have sent that last message. Then again, he’d already called the guy sexy several times; saying he wanted to kiss him wasn’t weird.

CG: IF YOU’RE SURE YOU WANT TO KEEP DOING THIS, THEN FINE. OKAY. I THINK I WANT TO GET TO KNOW YOU BETTER TOO. JUST REMEMBER I GAVE YOU AMPLE WARNING OF WHAT THE REAL ME IS LIKE. WHEN I INEVITABLY END UP HURTING YOUR FEELINGS, YOU WILL HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT YOURSELF.

TG: score

---

After, unwisely, agreeing to meet Dave at the park again before going to some secret secondary date destination he had in mind, Karkat slipped his phone into his pocket in a daze. He was still reeling. Where had he misjudged this situation? He’d been certain he’d done enough to scare Dave away, and yet, here he was with another date to prepare for. Masochism or brain damage—those were the only options. Considering how much Dave had insisted on Karkat’s attractiveness, he was leaning towards the latter.

Of course, the words alone were only half of the total package. Even Dave would find difficulty deriving whatever enjoyment he got out of Karkat’s insults when they were being delivered at an ear-ringing volume. Karkat heaved a deep sigh. All he had to do was be himself on this date. That had always been enough for every other person he’d dated to leave him. Dave would be no different: he was just dumber, so it was taking him longer to get with the program.

* Thinks I’m “sexy”. Definite brain damage. Probable masochist. Raps have not increased in quality but I’m starting to get used to them.

---

The problem was Dave knew what he liked to do, what he found fun, but he didn’t know Karkat well enough yet to have much of an idea of what Karkat liked to do. Usually, Dave would have just asked, but seeing as Karkat had just been prepared to be dumped, he didn’t think the question would go over well.

When Dave approached the YO this time, Karkat was already sitting on the bench. His head was bowed over his notepad, and he was furiously writing. Although tempted to look over his shoulder and see what he was doing, Dave decided not to. If it turned out to be something deeply personal, he’d feel like a creep.

Whatever it was held Karkat’s full attention. Dave could be very stealthy, but he wasn’t even trying to be quiet as he got closer. Finally, he was standing right beside where Karkat was sitting. Still nothing. Remembering the reaction he’d gotten the other day, he flopped down close to Karkat, making the other man jump. “Hey.”

Karkat brought his notepad up to his chest, hiding it, and glared. Despite his clear irritation and the roominess of the bench, he didn’t move away. “What the fuck, Dave? Are you incapable of conducting yourself like a normal person? Or am I just special?”

Dave grinned. Looked like Karkat had meant what he’d said about acting more like himself. “I don’t know, you are pretty special. Not in the Special Olympics way,” he hastened to add as he realized his compliment might not come across complimentary. “I mean, nothing against them, they’re great,” he continued, now realizing the actual insult he was now offering them and not wanting to be that guy, “but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

A sort of disbelieving half-smile. “Should I stop you now, or let you keep going?”

“Oh, definitely stop me,” Dave said, relieved. He gestured to the notepad Karkat was no longer holding so tightly against himself. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing important,” Karkat said brusquely, shoving the notepad into his bag as though it had personally offended him. “Something for my work.”

It occurred to Dave that he actually had no idea what Karkat did for a living. “What do you do?”

For a moment, Karkat only regarded him with deep suspicion. Then he sighed. “I write for Dubiously Cultured.” Apparently, Dave’s confusion showed on his face, for he elaborated, “It’s basically a gay Cosmo.” Then he frowned. “You know, a magazine with fashion tips? Make-up? Relationship advice?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Dave said quickly. The last thing he wanted was for his eyes to glaze over on his date like they did when Rose started talking about her magazine (whose title he could not recall at this moment if he’d been being held at gunpoint). “Are you writing an article? Laying down the keep your man tips for the masses?”

Even Karkat seemed surprised by the laughter abruptly bursting from him. “Something like that,” he said once he’d recovered. “You work as a DJ at the Glass, right?”

Honestly, Dave was shocked. He’d been sure Karkat had been just tuning him out! Then again, he had remembered he was from Texas, too. Maybe he just always looked bored and pissed off. “Yeah. It’s not super steady, but it pays the bills.” It actually didn’t pay the bills; Rose’s mom (his mom, she was also his mom) sent him money every month to pay for the apartment and various other expenses. However, his sad family history wasn’t exactly third date material. “You ever been?”

Karkat leveled Dave with a skeptical look which seemed to indicate his estimation of Dave’s intelligence had started low and was only getting lower. “Do I look like the kind of person that would get past a bouncer? Are you actually visually impaired, or are you making fun of me?” He shook his head. “I can see myself in the mirror, jackass; I know what I look like. Stop pretending I’m,” he held up his hands to make the finger quotes, ‘hot’.”

“I’m insulted you would think I’d lie about your hotness. You’re a fucking rooftop in the middle of a Texas summer. I should know; I’ve been there.” The metaphor stirred up memories Dave didn’t want to think about, and he wrapped an arm around Karkat’s shoulder. He immediately wished he’d done it sooner. “Anyway, I’ve already told you, you are a snack. You might as well accept it. It’s obvious. Everyone with eyes can see it. Not you, for some reason, but everyone else.”

“That’s just not true, Dave.” Before he could contest this, Karkat continued, “Most blind people still have eyes, idiot, and they can’t see anything, let alone support your dubious assertion that I’m attractive.” The words practically dripped with sarcasm even as he settled into Dave’s half-embrace. “You’re being so fucking insensitive right now.”

“Oh, shit, you’re right.” The part of Dave not worrying about the words flowing out of his mouth registered how nice and warm Karkat felt under his arm and pressed against his side. “Well, if they got to feel you up, they’d agree you were a snack, too. So, checkmate, Karkat. Check fucking mate. You’re just going to have to accept it. Majority vote. You’re a snack.”

Karkat looked up. “If you tell me you want to eat me, I’m leaving now and blocking your chumhandle.” Then his gaze shifted away. “This is nice,” he said, his voice softer than Dave had thought he was capable of. Maybe it was Dave’s burgeoning hearing loss, but he sounded… sad.

While Dave wanted to ask why he sounded so sad, he figured Karkat would tell him if he wanted him to know. After all, they still hadn’t known each other for very long yet. What was needed was a distraction, and Dave had just the thing to cheer both of them up. “If you think this is nice, you should be super excited for our date.”

---

Karkat had been feeling guilty again. It really had been nice, sitting on that bench in front of that giant art installation, to pretend that there was actually some sort of future for them. For him and Dave. Together. So, he’d been feeling guilty—even if he was an idiot who talked too much, Dave wasn’t a bad guy, and he didn’t deserve what Karkat planned on putting him through.

At least, that’s what Karkat had been thinking until they’d arrived at their final destination.

“A karaoke bar?” Karkat felt a scowl furrow his brow, and he turned it onto Dave, who had the audacity to be grinning at him. “It might interest you to know that I can’t fucking sing.”

Dave shrugged. “No one can at these places, Karkat. That’s why it’s fun.” He pushed his glasses down his nose, allowing Karkat the briefest glimpse of his eyes before he pushed them up again. “You’ve had fun before right? Or do we have to go slow and ease you into it, because fun is a hotel pool with a broken heater, and you haven’t raided the mini-bar yet.”

“Of course I know what fun is, you festering anal wart.” He saw himself ranting reflected in the lenses of Dave’s stupid glasses and looked away. “Fun is a walk in the park, or watching a movie, or going on a picnic, or playing a game. Fun is not embarrassing yourself in front of dozens of strangers by subjecting them to what can only laughingly be called your singing voice!” He started at the unexpected hand on his shoulder but made no move to shrug it off.

“Hey,” Dave said quietly, “if you really don’t want to be here, we can do something else. I don’t really know what you like yet outside of chick flicks. And writing for a magazine. And coming up with creative insults for me.” His grip on Karkat’s shoulder tightened slightly. “Help me out here, Karkat; I’m drowning with only seconds left to live. You’re the hot lifeguard, and I’m gonna need your sweet lips on mine fairly soon, or else I’m leaving the beach in a body bag. And no one wants that.”

Karkat turned back to face Dave. There were so many things to unpack in this latest offering of word vomit that he wasn’t even going to make the attempt. “Do you ever actually listen to the things you say?”

“I try not to,” Dave said blithely. “Messes with my flow.” Then the smile faded. “I mean it, though. If you want to go somewhere else, we totally can. I don’t have my heart set on this place; I just thought it’d be fun. Maybe you’d loosen up a little.”

“I am exactly as loose as I want to be,” Karkat sniped back, tacitly admitting that now he was the one saying stupid things. As much as he wanted to make things difficult for Dave for the sake of his article, he really couldn’t deny being touched that Dave was willing to change his plans because Karkat had complained about them.

Besides, while Karkat could be (and often was) loudly unpleasant and vulgar, it wasn’t the kind of thing he could force. He had to feel it. And he wasn’t feeling it. “No, we can stay. Just are there private rooms?”

Dave was frowning, perhaps in displeasure, perhaps in thought. “We can check.”

---

It turned out that there were private rooms, but they were prohibitively expensive. If this had been something Karkat had really wanted to do, Dave would have shelled out the cash, but he’d known he’d made the right call to spend the date elsewhere when he’d given Karkat the verdict and his shoulders had immediately relaxed.

Although Karkat had also protested that he wasn’t much better at bowling than he was at singing, he’d seemed less agitated about the prospect. He’d actually smiled a little when Dave had confided that he, too, wasn’t much of a bowler. Dave also wasn’t much of a drinker, but when Karkat offered to buy him a beer, he’d accepted it.

Dave was currently sipping his apple? flavored ale from the chair in their section of the alley and watching Karkat lob yet another ball down the gutter. This made, what? the tenth in a row? Dave had managed via blind luck to hit a strike with his first shot—a feat he had not been able to repeat—and that had pissed Karkat off like nothing else. Each additional failure to even get his ball any closer to hitting any of the pins only made Karkat’s face redder.

The only question was when he was going to pop.

“FUCK!” Karkat stomped back to the ball return. “FUCK ME, FUCK BOWLING, AND FUCK YOU, DAVE. YOU THINK YOU’RE BETTER THAN ME? NEWSFLASH, FUCK FACE, YOU ARE JUST AS OBJECTIVELY TERRIBLE AT THIS AS I AM—AT LEAST *I* HAVE THE FUCKING DECENCY TO BE ASHAMED OF MYSELF!”

Dave made absolutely no attempt to hold back his laughter.

“Hey, do you mind watching your language?” An older man in the next lane was giving Karkat quite an impressive glare. “There are kids present.”

Karkat’s face went purple.

---

“Well, Karkat,” Dave said as they walked down the street to no stated destination, his tone infuriatingly casual, “I can honestly say I’ve never been kicked out of a bowling alley before. I can scratch that off the old bucket list. It wasn’t on there because I hadn’t thought of it, but now I see I was blind to the possibilities. Thanks for opening my third eye or some shit like that.”

Karkat had let Dave put his stupid arm around his shoulders about a block back, and he hated the fact it felt so comforting. Bad enough he’d made an ass out of himself over nothing in public (again!), but it hadn’t even worked. He’d wanted to piss Dave off by showcasing his abhorrent personality, and he’d failed miserably. It wasn’t even his fault he’d failed either. For some inscrutible fucking reason, the idiot found temper tantrums hilarious to watch rather than embarrassing to be associated with. “Fuck you, Dave,” he said quietly, his energy quite spent.

Dave chuckled. Case in fucking point. “Aw come on, don’t be like that. It’s not like we’re banned from the place.” He paused. “I’m probably not going to get you to go there again anyway, am I?”

“I am never stepping foot back into that establishment, no.”

“Are you still pissed at me for that strike?” Dave’s voice sounded disbelieving. Maybe a little hurt. “I told you, man, it was a fluke. I wasn’t trying to hustle you. If I’d wanted to hustle you, there’d be money involved. That’s how that shit works. It’s like the definition of a hustle.”

Karkat sighed. “No, I’m not mad about that.” He hadn’t really been that mad about it in the bowling alley either. He’d just been frustrated. Loudly. Which was how he usually expressed his frustration. In the moment, it made him feel better… afterwards, he just felt tired. “I’m just really fucking embarrassed, okay? I know embarrassment is probably a foreign concept for you, but—”

Then he was being hugged. He tensed for a moment, then relaxed into it. He knew he shouldn’t be accepting Dave’s comfort, that this was only going to make things harder in the long run, but he couldn’t help himself. He really was such a selfish asshole. His head fell naturally against Dave’s shoulder, and he felt a distressingly familiar ache in his eyes. “Why are you hugging me?”

A soft guff of laughter blew past his ear. “Dude, you looked like you needed a hug. I’m not a hug expert or anything, but sometimes you look at a guy and think, that guy, he needs a hug.” The arms around him held him just a little tighter. “I hope you leave me a good review on yelp.”

Karkat choked on his unexpected laughter. “Dave. You are so fucking ridiculous.” As much as a part of him wanted to remain in his arms, he knew if he stayed any longer, he really would start crying. “Let go of me, asshole.”

Dave did so with only a moment’s hesitation. He put his hands on his hips. “So, what do you think?”

“About what?” Karkat successfully resisted the urge to wipe his eyes. With any luck, Dave wouldn’t notice how tear bright they probably were. Why was he getting so emotional anyway? None of this would matter soon enough.

“My review,” Dave said as though Karkat should have any idea what he was talking about. “Five out of five stars, right? Don’t crash my yelp score, dude—I have a reputation to maintain as hug master supreme; it’s all I have.”

And Karkat was laughing again. It really felt good.

---

* Gives nice hugs. Doesn’t respect personal space. Karaoke bar? Shitty bowler. Why isn’t this working?

---

{{ The third step is the ego. For Dr. Freud (famous psychology hack), the ego was a moderator. For our purposes, we return to the original Latin: I. Make it all about you and your comfort. If you have had enough of your short-term partner’s incessant prattle, say so. When you want to scream, do it at the top of your lungs. Use whatever language feels best to you at all times regardless of the situation. Make your short-term partner embarrassed to be associated with you. If you can get you and your short-term partner kicked out of an establishment due to your behavior, so much the better. However, if you find that such antics only serve to amuse your short-term partner, cease them immediately. The point of this exercise is to humiliate your short-term partner, not further endear you to them. Also, in the event that you are more embarrassed by your conduct than your short-term partner is, under no circumstances allow them to comfort you. It will only distract you from your objective. }}

#Homestuck #humanstuck #davekat #fan fic #my fic #wip

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thetourguidebarbie · 6 years

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What about Klaroline with Klaus being jealous of Caroline's close friendship with Enzo. it doesn't have to end in smut but im fine if it your choice.

Emergency fluff for one of my favorite people. @chica-cherry-lola has been reminding me for months that I promised her a mini-sequel to A Guilty Pleasure, my tattoo artist/florist au I wrote for @lalainajanes a bajillion years ago for a v-day exchange. Thank you to @garglyswoof for looking over this quickly.

This has smut in the beginning and is teeth-rottingly fluffy, so if that’s not your thing, I’d skip it. Bookshop AU will be posted once I get the edits in (sorry you’re getting a false alarm, Laine).

His chest was pressed against her back as his tongue traced a trail along her collarbone, the combination of it with his fingers curling against her walls bringing her just to the edge, but unable to tip over. Her eyes closed as he pressed soft kisses to the back of her neck, legs shaking as he brushed his fingers over her clit. “You’re so lovely,” he whispered, nipping her shoulder. “I do enjoy the sounds you make for me.”

She moaned softly in response as he pinched her clit lightly with his thumb and forefinger, her moan turning into a muttered string of expletives as she came, and she felt his stubble scratch against her skin as he smiled. She was breathing hard as she turned on her back to look at him, her lips parting slightly as she realized he was sucking her arousal off his fingers. He bent to kiss her once he was done, his palm steady on her hip, his tongue brushing across the seam of her lips. She moaned softly as he dragged his teeth across her shoulder and moved down to press kisses down to the valley between her breasts, flicking his tongue against her nipple before moving down her ribcage.

“I have a question, sweetheart,” he said, his voice muffled as his lips moved across her skin, and she arched her back as his tongue traced the flowered vine inked on her ribs.

“What?”

“What’s this tattoo from?”

She laughed. “It’s me and Enzo’s twinsies tattoo.”

Klaus froze mid-lick, pushing himself up so that he was looming over her. “Beg pardon, sweetheart?”

“A twinsies tattoo? You know, like when you and your best friend get matching tattoos to indicate that you will, in fact, be ‘best friends forever’?” Caroline said teasingly, making air quotes.

He stared at her with a look of what she considered completely unwarranted revulsion. “You and Enzo have matching tattoos?” he asked slowly, starting to withdraw his hand, clearly intent on getting an explanation. She grabbed his wrist, her eyebrows raised before groaning when she realized that he wanted the whole story before she’d get her next orgasm.

“Yeah. We were in our second year of college and Enzo and I were taking this really boring history class. It was basically impossible to study because the Professor’s study guides didn’t actually match what was on the tests or quizzes, which should totally be illegal. Anyway, the point is that it was finals week and we both knew that what ended up on the test was completely random, so we made a dumb bet that whoever scored higher could pick a tattoo for the other one. Just so you know, talking about my basically-brother-best-friend is not keeping me turned on.”

“And he won?”

“Nope, I did! I just got the same one in solidarity. I tried to talk Bonnie into it too but she said that couples tattoos were always a mistake no matter what. I thought it was kind of romantic, but she’s annoyingly practical.”

“Romantic, hmm?” he asked, and she narrowed her eyes as she watched the gears turn in his mind.

“Klaus...” she groaned, half out of exasperation and half because she wanted him to start moving again.

He bent and ran his nose along the curve of her neck. “I did tell you that I liked the idea of leaving a mark on someone’s body with my art. You even more.”

“I don’t know,” she said, the last word turning into a breathless ‘oh’ as he slipped two fingers back inside of her, her back arching. “I think you just don’t like that another guy and I have matching tattoos.”

“Perhaps,” he allowed, his fingertip tracing her hipbone before he bent to kiss her again.

“You’re such a jealous weirdo,” Caroline muttered between kisses, though there was no bite to her tone.

“You like it,” he whispered, nipping her ear and curling his fingers against her g-spot, making her gasp.

“In small doses,” she managed to pant out.

“You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy it, love. I feel that shiver run down your body when I press my hand against the small of your back as we walk, hear the way your breath catches when I tell you that you belong to me.”

“Klaus...”

“Try to deny it then,” he murmured. “Tell me you’re not mine, Caroline. Try.”

“Klaus,” she said, a tinge of warning coloring her tone.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You’re a smug jerk,” she muttered, her face half buried in his chest. She could feel his chest rumble against her cheek as he chuckled, curling his fingers against her walls, his other hand slipping between the cheeks of her ass, making her squeak in surprise.

“All right?”

“Fuck,” she hissed, unable to decide between riding his fingers or pressing against where he was touching her back entrance, her breathing growing shallow. “It’s good,” she managed.

“I’d like to take your pretty arse with my cock later,” he said quietly, pinching her ass before letting his hand travel down the back of her thigh, the drag of nails against her skin deep enough that he’d most likely leave a mark.

“After we unpack,” she said, taking a deep stuttering breath when Klaus pushed the tip of his finger into her back entrance as he nibbled at her neck and stroked her clit, the sensations almost too much for her to handle. She heard him hum against her skin when she came, clearly pleased, pulling back to look at her and brushing a damp curl from her face with his nose to press a kiss to her temple.

“I like you here.”

“Well, that’s good since I’ll be here every night for the foreseeable future,” she teased, sliding her arms around his shoulders to rub a curl between her fingers, the other hand tracing the lines of the triangle inked on his back. “But as comfortable as our bed is, I still have a lot of closet-invading and counterspace-stealing to do.”

“It’s not invading or stealing if it’s yours,” he pointed out, letting her go reluctantly as she wriggled out from under him and slid out of bed, reaching for the jeans she’d managed to half pull on before Klaus had coaxed her out of them earlier that morning. She looked over her shoulder to see him eyeing her hungrily and grinned.

“How am I supposed to concentrate knowing that you’re wearing nothing under those?”

“Like you always do,” she said unsympathetically. “I have full faith in your ability to get up and walk the ten feet to the shower without jumping me.”

He huffed grumpily in a way that probably shouldn’t have been endearing. “Later, I promise,” she repeated. “Seriously though. Get in the shower now so I can send you on a coffee mission when you get out.”

“So bossy,” he murmured, sitting up and stretching. She found herself tempted to throw out her unpacking plans and crawl back into bed to run her tongue down his abs, but at this point she’d committed to her non-sex Sunday agenda and she was too stubborn to admit defeat.

“Is that a problem?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, adjusting her bra and reaching for her blouse.

“Hot in small doses, as you’d say,” he teased, pushing the covers off and running his hand through his hair. She drank him in shamelessly, smiling when he pressed a light kiss to her temple as he walked past her to their master bathroom, his hand lingering on the vine on her ribs for a moment too long, thumb brushing along one of the leaves.

She took a shaky breath, glancing at the door as it closed behind him. Her skin was still burning from his touch, her heart pounding in her chest. They’d been together for almost a year now, counting the time she’d spent in denial pretending they were friends with benefits, and he still made her pulse race on a daily basis, made her feel wanted and beautiful and powerful.

She’d spent way too much time at the beginning worrying that his feelings for her would fade and the only thing to linger would be physical chemistry. She’d been embarrassingly obvious and he’d noticed, but instead of brushing her insecurities off with pretty words, he’d reassured her with every affectionate touch and warm smile that he wanted a connection with her that was more than physical.

Honestly, she couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.

She traced the swallow on her wrist that she’d gotten the week of her eighteenth birthday absently as she considered his words from earlier.

I like the idea of leaving my mark on someone’s body with my art. You even more.

She wondered if she should be scared that she liked the idea too.

“What do you want to do next week?” Caroline asked, sinking down on the couch and pressing her cheek against his shoulder, glancing at his sketchpad. He inhaled her scent, the subtle floral shampoo that now clung to his pillows on nights when he wasn’t even dreaming. It had been two months since she’d moved in and he hadn’t yet been able to get out of the habit of pulling her closer in the mornings before she woke just to savor the feel of her against him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever shake away the constant wonder that she’d chosen to stay.

“Ooh, that’s pretty,” she said, shifting so that she could get a better look without impeding his drawing hand.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, twirling the pencil between his fingers before adding more shading to the dragon’s wing.

“For a client,” he said, frowning as he inspected his work. “I think it needs something else. Been redrawing it for a few hours now, but it never looks quite right.”

“Do you need a few minutes then? For your muse to visit, or whatever?”

“Don’t be silly, love. My muse happens to be sitting right beside me.”

“You are a cheeseball,” she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek. “But seriously. Next week?’

“For our anniversary? I have plenty of ideas for all the things I’ll do to you,” he said, giving her a wicked smirk and taking a bit too much satisfaction in the flush that crept up her cheeks.

“Klaus!”

He could tell that she wasn’t actually annoyed with him, her exasperation more fond than anything else, though from the way she was shifting against him he could tell that she had something she was holding back.

“Do you have any preferences?” he asked, studying her face for any hint of her feelings, and he recognized the tilt of her chin as her mentally prepping herself to say something she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to spit out.

“I was thinking we could go to the shop.”

“For a private romantic dinner?” he asked, already planning at least ten different things they could do with her stockroom table.

She swallowed. “Yours, actually.”

“Mine?” he asked, not quite daring to believe what she was implying.

“I want you to give me a tattoo,” she said. “If you want to.”

“What do you want?” he asked immediately, reaching for his sketchbook and eagerly flipping to a new page. “Anything specific?”

“I want something symbolic.”

“The flower?” he offered, only half-joking, already trying to remember the exact slant of its petals.

“No. I want...I mean, I wanted to do something about the second I realized that I actually had feelings-feelings for you as opposed to sex-only-feelings, but that moment didn’t really have any symbolic objects that I’d feel comfortable having on my body permanently.”

“When was it?” he asked, unable to restrain his curiosity.

She blushed, unable to meet his eyes. “It was the night when we had the fight before we got together.”

“When you walked out on me?” he asked, not particularly wanting to open old wounds but needing to clarify.

She winced. “It wasn’t my proudest moment, okay? It just kind of hit me all at once, you know? I was like, in hardcore denial, and you put your arms around me and told me to stay and...” she trailed off, tangling her fingers with his and giving him a small smile. “I wanted to, and I was worried that you were just like, being polite—“

She glared at him when he was unable to restrain a laugh, setting down his pencil. “Caroline, when have I ever been polite to anyone out of obligation?”

“Well I didn’t know that then,” she said grumpily. “I mean, I did, but again, denial.”

“Right.”

“What about you?”

“Hmm?”

“What was your moment?”

He didn’t even have to think about it, his lips curling into a smile as he told her how beautiful she’d looked bent over her terrarium diagram in the coffee shop. How he’d watched her hands as she shaded the sketch carefully, admired the way her teeth sank into her lower lip as she concentrated. “I knew I’d enjoyed talking to you,” he explained, smiling at Caroline’s raised eyebrow. “But that moment...I was curious about you. Your story, your hopes and goals. I wanted to get to know you. I couldn’t resist.”

“That’s so cute,” she said, grinning at the face he pulled at the word. “Sorry. You’re just much more romantic than me.”

“I’m not sure that’s true,” he said, tugging one of her curls between his fingers. “In any case, perhaps you don’t want a tattoo of the experimental flower Bonnie gave you, but there are other options. Chrysanthemums?”

She groaned. “My least favorite flowers that I refused to sell you so that you wouldn’t poison your sister’s boyfriend? I’d rather have the sex plant.”

“Do you still have the sketch?”

She frowned. “From the coffee shop?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah. I’m sure I still have it,” Caroline said, moving off the couch and walking to the section of the bookshelf where she kept all her original sketches for her terrarium and bouquet ideas. She pulled out the one labeled ‘succulents’ and flipped through it, sliding a piece of heavy paper out of a page protector and scanning it thoughtfully before handing it to him.

“This one?”

He nodded, taking it and running the tip of his finger along the outline. “I want this here, I think,” he said, gesturing to the left side of his ribcage. “And I’ll get it in color, but I can make it subtler for you if you like. Just the outline or shadow...”

“Matching tattoos?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

“You said they were romantic,” he pointed out, and she nodded, leaning against his side and inspecting the sketch.

“I like it,” she said. “Even if it feels a little weird to have a tattoo of something I drew.”

“I can always sketch you something, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

“I think I want the orchid,” she said after thinking it over for a few seconds. “But in a purple or a blue. The real-life pink was really loud.”

“That can be arranged,” he murmured, already sketching the outline. “Where do you want it?”

“Same place as yours.”

“Doing it over bones is the most painful area,” he warned slowly, glancing at her, and she smiled, pecking him on the lips.

“It’ll heal, and I totally look forward to your inevitable weird obsession with licking it.”

“Is that another thing you’ll only tolerate in small doses?”

“No. Tattoo-licking is highly encouraged,” she said, her tone and expression so serious that if he hadn’t known her well he would have missed that she was trying desperately not to laugh.

“Noted, sweetheart.”

“Good,” she said, curling with her feet underneath her to peek over his shoulder at the orchid he was carefully outlining. “I love you, you know. A lot.”

“And I, you,” he said quietly

He didn’t need to look at her to know she was giving him the bright smile that she seemed to reserve for moments like this, when they were close and comfortable. He could see it in his mind’s eye, could have easily sketched it from memory.

He couldn’t resist looking anyway.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline drabble #klaroline smut #klaroline fanfiction #chica-cherry-lola #a guilty pleasure #my fanfiction #mydrabbles #outtake #klarolinekolvina #ask #answer

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sky-full-of-imagines · 7 years

Text

Vive la France (Remus Lupin x Reader)

So how about a reader who's been friends with Moony when they were little children, but who then got separated because he went to Hogwarts and she - to Beauxbatons. And then somewhere around the fifth year she transfers to Hogwarts, and Remus realizes he has a thing for her but he doesn't show. So then the Marauders start to hit on her deliberately in order to make Remus jealous and get him to tell her about with feelings? Lots of fluff, maybe? Thank you so much in advance! You are so talented it's inhuman!

I love love loved this request!! I tried to write a French accent so I hope I did an okay job, I took French for six years so I hope my phrases are accurate!

French translations:

Vivante: lively

Amis: friends

Mes amis: my friends

Oui: yes

Ma chère: my dear

Tais-toi: be quiet/shut up.

Maman et papa: mommy and daddy.

Y/Nm: your nickname

You adjusted your black robes for what seemed to be the hundredth time, missing the blue of your former uniform. Your mother sent you a comforting look as she waved one last time before you were being directed towards the Headmaster’s office where you would be sorted into your Hogwarts house. You were a transfer student from Beauxbatons, only a month into the school term so you still had time to catch up in your lessons. Your father had landed a much better job in London, much closer to Hogwarts so it was decided that it might do your family some good to turn a new leaf. You nervously sat in front of Dumbledore and another professor, McGonagall if you recalled correctly.

“Don’t be nervous dear, now, the sorting hat will determine which house you belong in, then we’ll have one of the Prefects from that house come and escort you to your lessons and give you a tour of the school.” He said kindly as you politely nodded. Ever since your parents told you that you would be switching schools, you promptly wrote to your best friend, Remus Lupin; you two grew up together but then once you moved to France you didn’t see each other as often, but you wrote to each other every week and tried to at least visit him once every year. You remembered how nervous he was when he told you about his condition, but you didn’t care that he was a werewolf, he was still your sweet best friend, you were more worried about his well-being, remembering how the full moons took a toll on him and you hoped that they were easier to deal with now that he was older. Remus attended Hogwarts, and you were bursting with excitement at the prospect of going to school with him. Your nerves seemed to have betrayed you because you were drawing a blank at which house he belonged to…what if you were placed in a different house...

You were knocked out of your thoughts when Dumbledore placed the hat gently on top of your hair.

“Hmm…a cunning mind…yes very cunning indeed, but extremely witty and creative as well. We certainly can’t box you in a house with just one of those traits…yes, you’ll do good in Gryffindor, I can see great bravery in you, not afraid of the unknown.” Said the hat after a couple of minutes. You saw the witch next to Dumbledore smile.

“Well Miss L/N, looks like you’re in my house. I’ll go find my Prefect and he’ll be your guide for the day. I’m sure you’ll make Gryffindor proud.” Professor McGonagall said, and with that she left the office. After a few minutes she came back, next to her was the familiar face of your favorite, chocolate lover, lanky best friend.

“REMUS!” you exclaimed before hugging him. He chuckled in response, hugging you back.

“I’m glad you got sorted into Gryffindor Y/Nm.” He said fondly.

“Mr. Lupin, today you are in charge of showing Miss L/N around, make her feel welcomed but I’m sure the latter won’t be a problem.” Dumbledore said, shooting McGonagall a knowing smile. Remus nodded, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink while you blushed slightly next to him.

You both exited the headmaster’s office, walking in a comfortable silence.

“Let me guess, you completely forgot each house and were slightly panicking while the hat ominously whispered in your ear?” he said, a goofy smile making its way on his face.

“Oh shut up…but yes, I did. But hey! At leas’ we are in zhe same house!” you responded, shoving him slightly to the side, as he chuckled.

“Well, as you can see the castle is big, not as big as Beauxbatons but still quite impressive.”

“My friends back at Beauxbatons would kill me, but I am starting to like Hogwarts a lot more.” you said softly as you looked around the castle walls, taking in the moving portraits and the low candlelight that adorned the archways.

“I wouldn’t say so just yet, our resident dead prankster, Peeves, will have you singing a different tune I’m sure.” He said as he led you up a long staircase, warning you of a loose floorboard.

“Speaking of prankster… didn’t you mention how your best friends were big on pranks? What did you call yourselves… ah yes, zhe explorerz?” you teased.

“Very funny, and it’s marauders.” He said with a good natured eye roll.

“Explorerzs, marauderzs, same thing. Either way, I’m looking forwar’ to meeting your amis!” you said cheerfully.

“Hope they don’t scare you off, love.” He added as he led you towards the dining hall.

“There’s about ten minutes until lunch, figured we could come a bit earlier. The tables are divided by each house: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.” He explained as he pointed to the four long tables, each already set with countless of silverware, plates and goblets. You both made your way to the Gryffindor table and soon enough the great hall was filling up with students, all eager to eat and relax before their afternoon lessons.

You were too caught up in your thoughts, and people watching, that you didn’t notice the three boys that came to sit down next to you and Remus.

“Should we poke her?”

“Yeah, let’s poke the new cute girl Prongs, it’ll be real smooth.”

“Shut up, Pads, it’s not like you’re coming up with any good ideas.”

“Will you two stop ogling my best friend?” Remus snapped, glaring at the two boys. Sirius and James got quiet for a few seconds but then their eyes lit up with understanding, a smirk making its way on each of their faces. Remus waved them off and turned to you, tapping your shoulder softly and bringing you back to reality.

“Y/N, these are my friends, Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew.” He said pointing to each of them. They each waved but Sirius and James were on a mission to get a reaction out of Remus so they each pulled out their charm, much to Remus’s displeasure.

“Pleasure to meet you, and might I add just how fortunate we are to have you here. Our very own beauty, our treasure. We shall admire and guard you, I’ll alerts the knights.”

“That’s right, Sirius.” James said, doing an elaborate bow as Remus rolled his eyes.

“Well Remus wasn’t kidding when he said you were a bit vivante.” You said chuckling slightly. At hearing your accent Sirius and James smirked even more, shooting a fleeting look towards Remus who was glaring at them, if looks could kill…

“Is that a French accent I hear?” Sirius asked.

“Oui, I’m a transferred student from ze magic school in France, Beauxbatons. Did Remus not tell you?” you answered, smiling as you saw how your goblet refilled itself.

“No, he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even tell us you were coming today.” James said.

“Remus would love for her to come, isn’t that right Moony?” Sirius added with a sly smile.

“For Merlin’s sake, both of you shut up...” Remus grumbled; he was quite thankful that you didn’t catch the double meaning behind Sirius’s words seeing as how you were busy deciding which pastry to choose from.

Lunch went on, the boys kept asking you questions about Beauxbatons and how it was different from Hogwarts, but before you could keep on talking about it, the bell rang signaling the end of the lunch hour.

“Come on, Y/Nm, we have Potions next.” Remus said kindly as he picked up your bag for you.

“Fear not Moony, we can escort Y/N! Think of us as her handsome bodyguards.” Sirius offered. Before Remus could object you spoke up.

“It’s okay, I love to ‘ear the fun facts Remus has about the castle! Besides I missed ‘im very much.” You said as took his arm and led him towards the exit.

“Well, I think we got our job cut out for us. Y/N is definitely into our dear Moony, and is not shy about showing it, but Moony is a bit more on the shy side of the looove spectrum.” James pondered out loud.

“You’re right, I think operation Vive la France is a go.” Sirius concluding, earning an approving nod from James as Peter merely watched, shaking his head at his meddling best friends.

As the weeks went by you began to feel at home at Hogwarts, you wrote to your friends weekly, and your parents were very happy with how well you were adjusting. Remus was over the moon by how you were settling in and he was extremely fond of your study dates, although you had never called them that, but he liked to think of them as dates. Little did he know you felt the same way.

“Oi! Y/N! Where are you headed? We’re going to the lake before dinner, we want to lure out Ollie out.” Sirius called out as he ran to catch up with you in the hallway.

“Ollie? Did you name ze giant squid Ollie.”

“Yes we did. He’s a Virgo, extremely picky when it comes to snacks…” James trailed off.

“Sorry mes amis, but I’m meeting Remus at the library, he’s been helping me with my Eenglish and I don’t want to be late.” you said as politely, smiling to yourself by the mere fact of seeing Remus.

“Oh really? We’ll join you!” Sirius said brightly, bursting with excitement at the thought of his and James’s plan finally going into play.

You three made your way to the library, James and Sirius whispering to themselves and eyeing you suspiciously every so often. You simply brushed it off, thinking that they were simply plotting their next “super-secret” prank. After a few minutes of walking next to the whispering duo, you all made it to the library, you guided them towards yours and Remus’s spot, near the back of the library where there was a fireplace that Remus would light during each of your study sessions knowing how cold you got.

“Bonjour, Remus! I found our friends while I was on my way ‘ere. They insisted on joining us.” You greeted him and explained why the two marauders were with you.

“Hello Y/N, James, Sirius. I’m sure these two were probably incredibly annoying and for that I apologize.” Remus chuckled.

“No more annoying zan usual.” You replied, laughing softly.

Soon you both set to work and after a few minutes James coughed three times, signaling Sirius to put their plan into action, Sirius nodded and so it began.

“Say, ma chère, you look lovelier than ever. Even the reddest rose shrivels in comparison to your beauty.” Sirius said casually, leaning into your side, taking a hold of your hand. At his actions Remus’ eyebrows shot up, almost dropping the quill he was writing with.

“Zank you, but you should really go back to your essay if you want to finish it.” you answered politely. Remus visibly relaxed by how you brushed Sirius’ charm off. Another half an hour passed, Remus was in the middle of correcting your essay, checking for spelling and grammar mistakes while the two boys were doodling on the corner of their parchments. All was peace and quiet until James broke the silence.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yes, James?”

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” he asked with a growing smirk. Out of the corner of his eye he saw how Remus stopped reading your Transfiguration essay and was looking intently at the two of you.

“No, I don’t zhink so.”

“Well, then I think we should go to Hogsmeade together, we can go to Madam Puddifoot’s.” he continued smoothly.

“’ow kind of you, but I will have to say no, maybe you could take Lily.” You said politely, going back to your current essay, not noticing how Remus was glaring at James with such an intensity that if looks could kill the poor boy would’ve been history. A few minutes went by and you excused yourself as you went to look for a book to finish your essay. As soon as you walked away Remus turned to his two friends.

“Care to explain what in the bloody hell was that all about?” he asked seething.

“Whatever do you mean, Moony?” Sirius asked coyly, as James snickered next to him.

“The flirting! With Y/N! and the asking her out!” he whispered-shouted, not wanting Madam Pince to come and yell at them.

“Moony, do you care if we flirt with Y/N? I mean you have said countless of times that she’s just a friend…”

“Oh sod off, James.” He muttered as he went back to editing your essay, not daring to make eye contact with his friends. You were coming back, but before you could make your presence known Sirius made a stopping motion with his hand as well as bringing his pointer finger his lips, signaling you to keep quiet. You were standing behind Remus, confused at to what was going on.

“Well, well, well, Sirius, I think Remus likes Y/N.”

“Hmm you might be right, Prongs.”

“So what if I do, now can you two shut up before she comes back…”

“Ha! We knew it! Just tell her how you feel, she’s obviously into you.” James shrugged as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

“No she’s not. She’s this great, incredibly pretty, charming, funny girl, and I’m just a dorky werewolf.” He said defeated, not noticing that you have been standing behind him for the last few minutes, hearing the whole conversation. You cleared your throat, making your presence known, Remus dropped his quill as his eyes widened comically.

“I zhink you are wrong. You are so much more zhan zat and I like you, a lot. So how about we steal James’s idea and go to Hogsmeade together?” you said, blushing by your confession. Remus starred at you, wide-eyed as Sirius and James eagerly watched your exchange from the sidelines.

“I would love that.” Remus said after ten long seconds. You smiled brightly. The two of you went back to work, brushing into each other’s hands and arms more than usual or necessary. The quiet atmosphere was soon interrupted by Sirius’s stomach growling, signaling you all that it must be almost time for dinner. You all packed your belongings, Remus taking hold of your bag and hand, and made your way to the dining hall.

“So does this mean we get to call you both mom and dad?” Sirius asked as you kissed Remus on the cheek once he set your bag down and sat next to you.

“Sirius, for the love of Merlin…” Remus started.

“Tais-toi.” You finished.

“Okay fine, maman et papa…” he said smirking which earned him a slap on the back of his head by Remus. James spit out his pumpkin juice due to how much he was laughing.

“If you don’t stop laughing, I’ll hit you next.”

#Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauder era #marauders imagine #remus lupin imagine #young remus lupin x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader

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