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would you please do more smees x reader please and thank you

THE ART OF GENTLEMEN

Red’s ball is only a week away, and hazel throws you one hell of a request.

squeaky and squirmy smee | claude frollo!descendant reader | gn!reader

wc. 3.7k | slight angst ~ major fluff

dividers by @/angeliicide

“You want me to do what?”

You place your math textbook into your locker, sorting through the small space until you find your mirror. Hazel leans against the lockers beside you, hands clasped together as she silently pleads for you to agree.

“I need you to teach the boys how to waltz,” Hazel repeats, the stress heavy in her voice.

“Red's ball is in a week, Hook. That is far too little time for me to teach four boys how to properly dance.”

You pull out the mirror and look yourself over, adjusting your collar before picking a piece of lint from your sleeve.

The Queen of Hearts hosts countless balls throughout the year for every imaginable occasion. The latest celebration is for Red's birthday. Naturally, all the VKs are expected to attend.

“Not four, just two,” Hazel says slowly, still trying to ease you into the idea.

You lower the mirror and stare blankly into your locker.

“No.”

“Please!”

Hazel juts out her bottom lip, bending her knees as she begs even harder.

“You're the most proper person I know. If anyone can do it, it's you.” She tries to butter you up, but you're quick to put your things away and shut the locker.

Turning toward her with a deadpan expression, you point to yourself before gesturing toward the lawn.

“You want me... to teach them?”

Hazel follows your finger.

Just a few feet away, the Smee twins are entertaining themselves on the grass.

Squirmy is doing his absolute best to balance a stack of textbooks on his head, arms stretched out as though he were walking a tightrope. Beside him, Squeaky carefully attempts to place one more book on the already impressive tower.

“It will take me a week just to get them to understand the word etiquette, let alone teach them how to dance.”

You can already feel a migraine forming.

It isn't that you think the Smees are incapable of learning. Growing up on the Isle of the Lost teaches everyone one thing: you have to think to survive.

The twins are clever — far cleverer than most people give them credit for — but their upbringing was nothing like yours. It's a harsh thing to admit, but it's true. Being raised by pirates doesn't exactly leave room for ballroom lessons.

“It's impossible.”

Hazel drops dramatically to her knees.

“What are you doing?” She doesn't answer.

Instead, she simply sticks out her bottom lip and pouts like a child.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

Puppy-dog eyes aren't going to work on you. You've dealt with far worse than a guilty expression.

Unfortunately, Hazel isn't fighting this battle alone.

As though sensing she needs reinforcements, the Smee twins rush over and kneel beside her.

They perfectly mirror Hazel's expression. Then, just to put the icing on the cake, all three speak in unison:

“Pleeease~!”

The word is drawn out far longer than necessary.

Your resolve remains firm. Eventually they'll give up.

You cross your arms over your chest, refusing to budge. They don't relent.

Instead…

Squirmy starts crying.

It's beautifully rehearsed.

A single tear slips down his cheek with such dramatic precision that you're almost impressed. Unfortunately, everyone else is buying it. Students walking through the courtyard begin slowing down, shooting you increasingly judgmental looks.

Wonderful. Now you're the villain.

You let out an exaggerated groan.

“Fine. I'll do it.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, Hazel and the twins spring to their feet.

The three of them immediately break into some elaborate handshake you've never seen before before Hazel throws her arms around you in a tight hug.

“Thank you so much! You're a lifesaver!” She plants a quick kiss on your cheek, grinning brighter than you've ever seen her smile.

“Now, boys, remember your manners.” Hazel points her hook between the twins. “You'll be listening to them from now on. Got it?”

The twins snap to attention.

“Yes, Captain!”

They salute in perfect sync before Hazel nods approvingly and strolls away, leaving you alone to deal with the consequences of her scheming.

You shake your head.

It's far too late to back out now.

With a sigh, you turn toward the library.

The moment you take a step...

… two more pairs of footsteps follow.

You stop. The footsteps stop.

Slowly, you turn around. The twins are standing directly behind you.

“What is it?”

The boys glance at each other before looking back at you as though the answer should be obvious.

“Hazel said we're with you,” Squirmy explains.

“So we follow you now,” Squeaky finishes.

Your jaw drops. That sneaky little pirate. You refuse to let her get away with this.

“Right... of course.” You nod slowly. “I wasn't planning on beginning your lessons until tomorrow, so—”

You gesture for them to head off. Neither of them moves.

Instead, they continue staring.

You take a cautious step backward.

They take one forward.

You sidestep to the left.

They mirror you perfectly.

...

“Wonderful.”

What, exactly, have you gotten yourself into?

You knew this would be difficult, but you didn't think you would hit a hurdle so early on.

You stand in the middle of the dance hall, rubbing your temples in frustration.

By some miracle, the twins have already gotten into the dance equipment, and now Squeaky has somehow managed to get himself tangled in a resistance band. How he managed to wrap himself up so thoroughly completely eludes you, but at least you've learned one thing:

One of them is apparently strong enough to manage a lift.

Squirmy doubles over laughing. Squeaky pleads for help.

You clap your hands together. Hard.

The sharp sound echoes throughout the hall, immediately putting an end to their antics.

Squirmy straightens up at once. Squeaky spins in circles until the resistance band finally unwinds itself from around him.

You close your eyes and take a slow, measured breath in. Then out.

"Okay."

"I'll let you know now that the waltz is not a difficult dance. At least, not this particular one." You try easing them into the lesson.

"It follows a simple box step," you explain, demonstrating the movement yourself. "You repeat that pattern while moving in a circle."

With your eyes still closed, a soft hum escapes your lips as your feet move almost effortlessly across the polished floor. You circle the twins twice before stopping precisely where you began.

Only then do you open your eyes. The twins stare back at you expectantly.

"See?" You clear your throat, quickly correcting your posture. "Simple enough."

"We'll start with the box step."

Walking over, you gently guide them into position.

"This dance is traditionally performed with a partner, so we'll alternate who leads each day." You position Squirmy's hands before moving Squeaky into place.

"Today, you'll lead."

Squeaky immediately shoots his younger brother a smug grin. Squirmy doesn't appreciate it in the slightest.

He squeezes Squeaky's shoulder hard enough to make him yelp. Squeaky retaliates with a jab to Squirmy's side.

Within seconds, both boys have abandoned their dance positions entirely, swatting at one another like two cats fighting over the last fish.

This is hopeless.

"Boys." Your voice rises only slightly.

It's enough. Both twins freeze.

"Since we're apparently incapable of cooperating," you say with a patient smile that is beginning to strain, "we'll do this one at a time."

That seems considerably safer.

Besides, you're fairly certain they're visual learners.

"You sit by the mirrors."

You point toward Squirmy.

"You, come here."

Both boys obey without complaint.

You carefully guide Squirmy into the proper stance, placing one of his hands at your waist while interlacing your other hand with his.

"I will lead. You will follow." Your tone is firm now. "Simply mirror my movements."

You begin slowly.

"Right foot back."

"Left foot together."

"Step to the side."

"Now bring your other foot—"

"Ow!"

Squirmy jumps as you immediately pull away, wincing.

"Sorry!" He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. "Wrong foot."

You force yourself to inhale.

"It's alright." A pause. "Let's try again."

You return to position, gently guiding him back into frame. You tap your foot to establish the rhythm.

"Right foot—"

"Ouch!" He steps directly on your foot again.

"I thought we'd both be starting with the other foot," he says apologetically.

You slowly raise a hand.

"Switch with your brother."

"But I can still—"

"Now."

Your feet are beginning to throb.

Squirmy wisely decides not to argue.

He quietly trades places with Squeaky, taking a seat by the mirrors. Squeaky steps into position, already trying to imitate what he watched moments ago.

Unfortunately, his balance is even worse.

The moment he shifts his weight, he trips over his own feet. He crashes straight into you.

Before either of you can recover, you're both on the floor. Your face lands squarely against Squeaky's chest. He lets out a muffled groan beneath you.

Mortified, you immediately push yourself upright. Your chest rises and falls with growing frustration.

"We're done for today."

The twins blink.

"But we only just started," Squirmy protests. "We'll do better next time—"

"I said we're done." You don't even look at them. "Go. Now."

The room falls silent.

The twins exchange a glance before quietly gathering their things. Heads lowered, they leave the dance hall without another word.

Once the doors shut behind them, you simply remain where you are.

Sitting on the floor, completely exhausted.

This is hopeless.

Your reflection stares back at you from the mirrors.

Your clothes are wrinkled. Your hair is no longer perfectly in place. You can already feel a bruise beginning to bloom along your elbow.

Teaching them is proving far more difficult than you ever imagined, and this is day one.

You aren't sure how long you remain there.

Ten minutes. Perhaps an hour.

When Hazel finally walks into the hall, the sun has already begun to set.

"Is it really that bad?" she asks with an amused smile.

You roll your eyes, refusing to indulge her.

Standing, you brush the dust from your clothes.

"I don't believe this was a good idea." You sigh. "I am trying very hard to spare your friends' feelings, but they are simply unteachable."

You've never struggled to teach anyone before.

Hazel chuckles.

"Sorry we didn't have ballroom lessons aboard the S.S. Nightmare."

She rests a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"But they mean well. They just need time."

You know she's right. You weren't raised the same way they were. Just because your own upbringing on the Isle included etiquette lessons doesn't mean theirs did.

You rub your temples once more. The last thing you want is to sound like your father.

You are better than that.

"I am not giving up on them," you say at last. "...just don't expect perfection."

Hazel smiles warmly.

"Come on."

She nudges your shoulder.

"Dinner's on me."

The week drones on more slowly than you would have liked.

Five days of complete exhaustion.

You won't lie — you tried your hardest to get the boys prepared, but it was clear their priorities simply weren't in it.

Now it's the day of the ball, and you had told them to come in for one final impromptu rehearsal. Not only were they late, but they had barely reviewed anything you taught them throughout the week. It felt like the whole thing had become a joke to them.

So perhaps your breakdown was more justified than you'd like to admit.

"Do you even care about what we're doing?"

The question comes out of nowhere, and the boys immediately stop shoving one another.

"It's been a week of nothing but mistakes and no progress. I agreed to this because Hazel asked me to, but if you're just going to treat it like a joke, I want nothing more to do with it."

You bend to gather your things.

For once, the twins don't simply sit there.

They actually answer.

"Why are you so worked up?" Squeaky asks. "It's just a stupid dance."

You freeze.

"...What did you just say?"

Squeaky visibly falters, but Squirmy only doubles down.

"You've been hounding us about this dance all week. It's boring. Nobody even wants to do this stupid dance."

They complain like children. They complain just as you once did, and the memory brings up old wounds.

You slowly turn back toward them.

"I didn't waste my week for you to be this ungrateful."

Your finger presses firmly against Squirmy's chest.

"I wasn't put through hell just so you could be so—"

The words die in your throat.

You're projecting. You know you are, because they are right — there are no real stakes here.

No punishment. No reward.

It's simply Red's birthday ball. They don't even have to participate if they don't want to.

So why does this matter so much?

Because when you were young, Frollo had beaten the expectations of refinement into you.

Every mistake. Every stumble. Every misplaced step. Nothing was ever good enough.

Even though you possessed no title, no wealth, and no future worthy of his ambitions, he demanded perfection anyway.

It was all he had ever taught you.

Every flaw was corrected. Every imperfection erased. Until you became the person standing here today.

And now...

They had laughed at everything you sacrificed to become.

You feel it.

The pressure building behind your eyes.

The anger. The hurt you have no right to direct at them.

Instead of yelling, you simply let go.

"Do whatever you want," you say quietly.

Your voice sounds tired more than angry.

"It doesn't matter anymore." You shoulder your bag. "Make fools of yourselves for all I care."

Both twins immediately see it.

The disappointment. The exhaustion. The hurt hidden behind your carefully composed expression.

"Hey, guys! How's—"

Hazel's cheerful greeting dies the moment she walks through the doors.

She looks between the three of you.

You brush past the twins and then her without another word. She reaches out as though to stop you, but you slip by before she can.

Only once you're gone does she slowly turn toward the twins.

"What did you do?"

The boys try to explain themselves.

But hearing the words leave their own mouths, they suddenly sound exactly like spoiled children.

Hazel flicks both of them on the forehead. Hard.

She tells them about your childhood.

About Frollo, the impossible standards you had lived under, why ballroom dancing was never just ballroom dancing to you.

By the time she's finished, neither twin can meet her eyes.

They feel awful. They try to apologize.

Hazel raises a hand.

"I don't care how you do it." Her voice leaves no room for argument. "Fix it."

With that, she hurries off to find you.

The brothers stand silently in the now-empty dance hall.

They glance toward the mirrors. Then toward each other.

Neither says a word… they don't have to.

The same idea crosses both of their minds at once.

They'll make this right.

—

The ball arrives sooner than you expected.

Everyone is dressed beautifully, and the Queen of Hearts has clearly poured everything she has into making her daughter's birthday unforgettable.

Even Red looks stunning in her new gown.

The ballroom has been decorated to the nines with towering floral arrangements, crystal sculptures, and ribbons of red and gold draped across every wall.

You sit alone at one of the tables, absentmindedly picking at what might be the best lasagna you've ever tasted. Your spirits are too low to enjoy it.

You feel bad for the twins.

Honestly, it wasn't entirely their fault.

Did they waste your time? Yes.

Did you take everything far too seriously? Also yes.

They were complete beginners trying to learn something that had been drilled into you since childhood.

Perhaps...

You hadn't been fair to them either.

With a sigh, you spear another piece of asparagus.

Then the orchestra changes songs.

You recognize the melody instantly. The waltz.

For the first time in your life, you remain seated. You simply don't have the heart for it anymore.

Maybe you'll sit this one out.

"Hey, you." Hazel drops into the chair beside you.

The mischievous grin on her face immediately puts you on guard. That smile never means anything good.

"What is it?" you ask, not bothering to hide your suspicion.

"What?" she says innocently. "I don't need anything..."

Her eyes drift past your shoulder.

"...but they do."

You sigh. You already know who she's talking about.

Turning around, however you're genuinely surprised.

The twins stand before you with matching outstretched hands.

Gone are the wrinkled shirts and crooked collars from earlier that week.

Both boys wear perfectly tailored white suits trimmed with red and blue accents. Their hair has actually been combed back with gel, and each of them offers you an almost nervous smile.

You raise an impressed eyebrow.

"You both clean up rather well."

"Thank you," Squeaky says proudly.

Squirmy immediately elbows him. "Focus."

The older twin straightens again so quickly that you can't help laughing. Even Hazel snorts beside you.

Squirmy clears his throat. Neither boy quite meets your gaze.

"May we..."

He glances toward his brother.

"...have this dance?"

A two-person waltz? Now that is something you haven't done before.

You glance back at Hazel.

"What are you planning?"

She simply shrugs and gestures toward the twins. They stand patiently, hands outstretched, silently hoping you'll take them.

After a few thoughtful moments, you do.

They pull you gently to your feet before leading you onto the dance floor.

You had expected the waltz to have already begun, but when you look around, you realize the crowd that had gathered earlier has stepped aside, leaving the center of the ballroom entirely to the three of you.

All eyes are on you.

Squeaky steps back, leaving you partnered with his brother.

Squirmy places one hand carefully at your waist, offering you a small, almost nervous smile. You raise an eyebrow but settle into the ballroom frame you spent an entire week teaching them.

"Just follow our lead," Squirmy whispers.

Before you can ask what he means, the music begins.

At first, it is exactly what you expected: a traditional waltz.

A simple box step carried gracefully in a slow circle around the ballroom. You glide effortlessly across the floor without a single misstep.

They had practiced.

There is no denying it now.

Every movement is confident. Every turn precise.

Then everything changes.

A horn suddenly cuts through the orchestra. The tempo shifts. Before you have time to react, Squirmy spins you away.

You let out a surprised gasp as you're caught seamlessly by Squeaky, your back settling against his chest.

The younger twin grins at your stunned expression.

He says nothing. He simply leads.

The slow elegance of the waltz melts into the sharp confidence of a tango. Laughter ripples through the ballroom as the audience begins clapping along with the new rhythm.

Squeaky twirls you once more before dipping you low enough to steal another yelp from your lips.

Then he lets go.

For half a heartbeat, you're falling—

Only for Squirmy to catch you effortlessly.

He laughs as he pulls you upright before spinning you toward the center of the dance floor. The twins circle around you, moving in perfect synchronization through a routine you never imagined they were capable of performing.

You catch Hazel's eye through the crowd.

She beams proudly, cheering louder than almost anyone else in the ballroom.

The twins take your hands once more. From there, you're passed effortlessly between them as the choreography grows faster and bolder.

Every movement is deliberate. Every flourish colorful. They're completely lost in the performance.

And somehow, so are you.

As the music swells toward its finale, the brothers exchange a knowing glance.

You don't know what they're planning.

Frankly, you're not sure you want to.

Before you can protest, they lift you clean off the ground. You squeak in surprise as you're tossed gently into the air.

A moment later, you land safely across both of their waiting arms.

The orchestra cuts off on the final note.

For a heartbeat, the ballroom is silent.

Then the room erupts into cheers. The twins carefully set you back on your feet, both breathing heavily from the performance and grinning from ear to ear.

Red is the first to rush over.

"Um... hello?! That was amazing!" she exclaims. "When Hazel told me you were teaching them, I didn't think you'd all go that hard!"

The brothers laugh together.

"We had a great teacher," Squeaky says.

Heat creeps into your cheeks.

The compliments continue well into the evening, and eventually, you have to admit it. It had been spectacular.

When the excitement finally settles, you quietly pull the twins aside.

"I'm sorry," you begin. "I shouldn't have been so hard on the two of you. And I definitely shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did."

Before you can continue, both brothers raise their hands.

"No, we're sorry!" Squirmy says.

"We should've taken it seriously," Squeaky agrees.

"We should've listened."

Neither side seems willing to accept the other's apology without giving one in return.

Finally, Squirmy throws his hands into the air.

"Okay! How about this?"

He points between all three of you.

"We buy you ice cream as our apology..."

"...and you accept our date as yours."

Your eyes go wide. So do Squeaky's.

"Dude!"

He immediately punches his brother in the shoulder.

Only then does realization hit Squirmy.

"Oh." His face drains of color. "Shoot... wait... I didn't mean—"

"A date, you say?"

Both twins freeze. A deep blush spreads across each of their faces. You, however, don't seem particularly opposed to the idea.

"My schedule is rather full tomorrow," you say thoughtfully.

You smooth a hand through Squirmy's hair before letting your fingertips brush lightly across Squeaky's bowtie.

"But..."

A playful smile tugs at your lips.

"If you teach me that tango I might be persuaded to make a little room."

Neither brother remembers how to breathe.

Then, matching smiles slowly spread across both of their faces.

Without another word. they each grab one of your hands.

And before you know it…

You're being dragged straight back onto the dance floor.

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