#joseph descamps x reader
Text
A real gentleman ; Joseph Descamps.
summary: Joseph and Reader never got really along until something changed.
warnings: genderneutral!reader, enemies-to-lovers, idiots in love!!, Y/N mentions lol, just kiss already.
author's note: Hi! I wrote this bc I fell in love with Mixte 1963, and when I looked up for ffs, there were NONE, so I said, 'I'll take one for the team' and came up with this. Please keep in mind that I'm not a writer and english is not my first language, I'll appreciate it if you can point at any errors. <3
The chilly breeze hitted their faces, making them close their eyes momentarealy due to its force, breathing in the smell of wet soil mixed with the freshly made bread from the bakery a few houses down the road.
The day looked very promising; today they woke up a little bit earlier than usual, using the extra time to finish in advance some english homework assigned for the next week and even strarting a big upcomig proyect due to the end of the month, hearing the weatherman in the radio as a background noise, announcing that it was going to be an unusually warm day of autumn.
Everything seemed perfect, the subtle orange hue of the skyes illuminating their face as they walked and the soft rumbling of cars passing by the principal street made them feel like a character of one of those romantic movies they dearly love watching, a thought that felt reinforced when every leave they stepped on made a perfect crunch sound. A soft greeting left their lips when they walked past one of their neighbours who was heading out to work like many other people did at those hours.
It truly felt like a peaceful morning.
'You seem lost in thought. Are you daydreaming about me already?'
Until it wasn't.
They dedicated a slight scowl towards the person who dared to interrupt their peace and inhaled a big breath of air before answering.
'Not even in your greatest dreams, Descamps.' They made a condescending gesture with their hand. 'Now leave me alone, yeah? I was perfectly fine until you came with your annoying presence.'
A booming laugh abandoned his throat. 'Don't act so disinterested. I know you couldn't live without my annoying presence even if you wanted.'
Joseph Descamps. He was a classmate of theirs that took an interesting liking towards their persona, or how they liked to say, a liking towards making their life miserable.
Since the start of the year he took every possibility to annoy them out of their mind, it started with some snark remarks insulting their way of doing certain things and it slowly progressed to petty acts, such as slighty tugging their hair when passing each other, hide their belongings when they aren't looking and even blocking their path by standing in the entryways, smiling down at them while demanding a 'password' that changed every day. Just petty acts meant to be a pain in the head.
He was everything they couldn't stand: a bully with some serious narcissist tendencies who, on top of it all, loved to get a rise out of people by pushing their boundaries and provoking them in any possible way.
But even with that horrendous description, Y/N couldn't avoid that rare feeling at the bottom of their stomach whenever he was close. At first they thought that it was a reflect of how disgusted they truly felt by his persona and the gross acts he usually did, a few weeks later, that feeling was accompannied with their heartbeat increasing when they noticed that he was invading their personal space, but chalked it up as just being nervous of his tall frame hovering them like some sort of prey, that made total sense on their head. However, some days later, he did something that made them realise what they truly felt for the boy with the patch.
It started to rain towards the end of the day, exactly 15 minutes into their english class and the frustration was clearly palpable, it was so unexpected that nobody could've predicted it; what it seemed to be a passing grey cloud turned out to be a massive downpour, Y/N started to complain with their friends about how it was a shame that they chosed to use the new sweater their grandmother knitted for them and how sad it was that now it would get ruined under the relentless rain. When the class was over, they noticed how Joseph went outside the building running and disappeared behind the school gates. They thought it was really weird, but they knew better than to expect something coherent from him. Minutes passed and it seemed like the temporal was getting worse so a few people decided to just suck it up and walk under the cold rain, sighing for themselves and rapidly lamenting once more the lost of the sweater, they prepared to follow the steps of the brave mass of students when a breathless voice interrupted their movements.
'L/N, wait!' A disheveled and completely soaked Joseph made himself seen, his shout drawing attention to the both of them.
'What do you want now, Descamps? I'm already late to home, I don't need you keeping me here any longer than necessary.' They stated with a confused frown, curious as to why was he there but trying to mask it behind indifference.
A smirk made its presence on his sharp features. 'I know, but I couldn't just let you go like that under the rain, that wouldn't be so gentlemanly of me, don't you think?' From behind his back, he pulled a blue umbrella and extended it to a dumbfounded Y/N.
Was that really happening right now? Did the most annoying person they ever met just ran under the rain to bring them an umbrella? And not only that, but he somehow managed to get one with their favorite color, too. Did he just called it to be a mere gentlemanly act?
It might as well start raining cats and dogs.
They opened and closed their mouth, being left without anything to say for the first time, a half-hearthed chuckle interrumping their messy train of thought.
'I heard what you said about your sweater and how sad you would be if it got ruined.' They swore that their heart would get out of their chest for how hard it was beating. 'And I didn't want you to get heartbroken for it, so I thought that you could use one of these.'
He closed the distance that separated them by taking a few steps, reaching out for their free hand and making them hold the umbrella, the contact between their fingertips sparkling a something deep inside each other.
'I know we are supposed to not like each other, but let me be nice to you for once, please.' His eye shining with an intensity they couldn't explain. 'Don't worry, we can keep hating us tomorrow.' When he saw that they wouldn't object, he turned around and began walking outside, getting under the rain once more.
Feeling the heat creeping on their face and having found their voice, they asked out loud.
'How did you know?' His head turned around enough for them to see his face. 'How did you know that it's my favorite color?'
They knew that it could've perfectly been a mere coincidence, something insignificant that shouldn't be overly analized, but something told them that it wasn't like that. They really hoped it wasn't. And it was confirmed when he flashed them another one of his infamous smirks.
'Sometimes I listen to you more than i should.'
Since that very moment it's been really difficult to fight the involuntary smiles that made a way into their face when he unexpectedly tries to integrate them to a conversation by asking their opinion on a subject, or the feeling of warmth that invaded their chest everytime they made visual contact and let's not forget how everytime they both "accidentaly" brush hands Y/N had the extremely rare need to interlock their hands with him.
But after all, he was still Joseph Descamps, the attractive cocky idiot who is always up on some trouble that he himself seeked out.
'...-ou cold?'
They blinked repeatledly with confusion written all over their face, the taller boy smiling down at them for being able to catch them distracted.
'Huh?'
'I asked if you weren't cold.' He repeated the question slower, a soft look on his eye. 'You are shivering'.
If he didn't pointed it out, they wouldn't noticed that, in fact, they were shivering. The chilly air becoming colder than before making them lowly insult the unstable weather of the so-called "unusually warm day", having only a thin cardigan that didn't do much to help.
'It's nothing. The school's a few blocks ahead, and I can take a little bit of cold.' Grumbled under their breath, only to sneeze some moments later.
The boy snorted while shaking his head before swiftly taking off his coat and placing it on their sholders. 'You are not going to catch a cold, or at least not on my company.'
'You are being awfully nice to me lately.' In a slight moment of braveness, they blurted out the question that was tormenting their head. 'Are you flirting with me, Descamps?'
An incredulous look got settled in his face, and they regretted saying it immediately, wishing to come back on time to stop themselves and save them from the embarrassment. Did they read the signals wrong? Was he only trying to become their friend? Was he only being nice? Was he...?
'Yes! Thank you for finally noticing it, I was starting to think that you were cruelly ignoring my advances.' A beautiful and dashing smile was sent in their direction, the biggest they ever saw him smiling.
And it was because of them.
A shaky sigh left their lips accompanied by a nervous laugh, not realizing they were holding their breath, with equally shaky hands coming up their head to accommodate their hair on a jittery action.
'I... I didn't know, really. I had a slight impression, but I thought that I was imagining things.' They cleared their throat in an attempt to regain their cool and collected personality. 'So, when are you taking me on a date then?'
The slight quiver on their voice was noticed by the still very amused boy, who took mental notes on how cute they looked flustered and to try to do it again in the future when given the opportunity.
'Would you accept if I asked you to skip school with me and have a date right now? I don't think I can wait any longer.' He asked with a playful tone, typical of him.
They let out a snort. 'I would tell you that you are crazy if you think that I would do something as risky as that. But lucky for you, I'm free today, so meet me at the cinema at four o'clock.'
'Then I shall see you there.' Replied between soft laughs, not believing that this was really happening. 'Some recommendations for this poor soul?'
The open gates were a few meters ahead of them, the other students that hanged outside throwing curious and shocked looks on their direction when they noticed the much larger coat that lied on Y/N's shoulders and the flustered smiles on their faces.
'Yes, the most important thing, don't you dare being late. If I get there and I don't see you, you can even forget that we know each other.' He brought both hands up in the air in a sign of redemption. 'I'm serious about this. You'll regret it if you do.'
'I wouldn't even dare thinking about it, I'll let Magnan take my other eye before screwing my opportunity with you.'
Their eyes widened at the hidden seriousness of the statement and the simplicity with which he pronounced it, the sincerity of it all making their heart race like crazy. Slowly nodding their head while trying to gather their thoughts.
'Well, it's settled then, at fo-...'
'Four o'clock sharp, I couldn't forget even if I wanted to.' He made a pause, regaining his usual playfulness. 'Should I bring you flowers? I want to be a real gentleman with you.'
'Okay, now you are showing off that you know how to flatter someone, shut up.' Rolling their eyes with a smile, they started walking toward the gates, leaving him behind. 'And I like camellias, for your information.'
'I only wish to flatter you, nobody else!' He said loudly, making people start to whisper about the supposed swear enemies.
'You don't want to know.' Was the only thing they said, accompanied by a slight shrug of shoulders.
Trying to bite back a bigger smile they waved him off, getting closer to their friend group with each step they took, all of them looking the exchange with incredulous eyes, silently begging for an answer as to what just happened.
They never before wished that the day would end up sooner.
#mixte1963#mixte 1963#joseph descamps#joseph descamps x reader#vassili schneider#voltaire high#mixte 1963 x reader#enemies to lovers
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━JANUARY 2024; susan's recs
HARRY POTTER
━━DRACO MALFOY
buy me presents @writingsbychlo
━━MATTHEO RIDDLE
for you @mrsbarnesblog
THE MARAUDERS ERA
━━JAMES POTTER
cold as you @pretty-little-mind33
THE MAZE RUNNER
━━THOMAS
daffodils @writingsbychlo
that much was obvious @justauthoring
MARVEL
━━PIETRO MAXIMOFF
sokovian cuddles @mar-gega
the silent treatment @floral-and-fine
━━LOKI LAUFEYSON
terrible liar @fandxmslxt69
ANNE WITH AN E
━━GILBERT BLYTHE
love, lunch and letters @reidandweep
keep your hand inside of mine @harringtown
everything i hold dear resides in those eyes @↑
THE SOCIETY
━━HARRY BINGHAM
my poor little baby @the-girl-who-used-to-write
initiative @collecting-stories
FATE: THE WINX SAGA
━━RIVEN
the only edge @imkylotrash
MIXTE 1963
━━JOSEPH DESCAMPS
a real gentleman @meltinghun
PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS
━━LUKE CASTELLAN
bleedin' me dry @atlabeth
sly swordsman @krkiiz
take a chance with me @↑
something out of my dreams @celesterayel
call it what you want @sayoneee
lavender roses @breadbrobin
about you @surftrips
fighting chance @supercutszns
a place with you @↑
true colours @↑
the grudge (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you) @kamaluhkhan
i won't say (im in love) @calliopeslyrics
bedtime stories @mischiefmoons
titles @indecisivemuch
THE BEAR
━━CARMY BERZATTO
blueberry bbq; strawberry gazpacho @collecting-stories
i love you @sunflowersteves
ONE PIECE
━━SANJI
tell it to me straight (because i’m going crazy) @justmediocrewriting
little by little @zorobff
STRANGER THINGS
━━STEVE HARRINGTON
marriage pact @fantasylandloser
season one of “come home” — masterlist @stevie-petey
drunken confession @caxde
itty bitty pretty @t-lostinworlds
OUTER BANKS
━━JJ MAYBANK
worth it @pariahsparadise
━━RAFE CAMERON
rafe, scary? pfft! @suncoved
LOCKWOOD & CO
━━ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
till death do us part @websterss
certain @↑
never angry @↑
#susan’s recs#fics recs#draco malfoy x reader#mattheo riddle x reader#james potter x reader#thomas x reader#pietro maximoff x reader#loki laufesyon x reader#gilbert blythe x reader#harry bingham x reader#riven x reader#joseph descamps x reader#luke castellan x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#opla sanji x reader#steve harrington x reader#jj mayback x reader#rafe cameron x reader#anthony lockwood x reader
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Two sides on the same coin
— pairings: Joseph Descamps x ex-rebellious reader
summary: you get expelled from your all girls school after an incident you get yourself into. cutting all ties with your troublesome friends, your parents send you to voltaire lycée in hopes you change your ways. an annoying prick, though, gets in the way of that, making you constantly on the verge of breaking your promise to your parents.
additional warnings: underage smoking, usage of foul language, mention of boobs ig?
authors note: very creative chapter title, ik. also really sorry for this late update, but i honestly don't haven't any excuse. it's finally here so I hope you enjoy. also i added a character from another movie cuz i can.
words: 3.9k
Chapter 1: The bastard with the dumb glasses
[Name] [Last Name] certainly wasn't expecting her first day to occur like this.
She fell down on her knees next to the wounded boy, who held on his left eye. He was whimpering in pain, making it obvious the punch he took to the face was serious.
Placing a hand on his back, she tried to receive any attention from him. She called out his name but didn't get an answer. Blood was dripping from between his fingers and his groaning increased before she was pulled away from him.
...
Lumière Lycée was nothing but a memory now, all what happened there only for the driven girl to want go remember, whenever she even wanted to. If she wanted to. She couldn't lie to herself and say it was a good time. On the contrary, it was a living hell for her. It wasn't a catholic school, but it was somehow aiming towards it.
She'd gotten in trouble one, two, three, or more times. Times she couldn't even keep track of.
Not that it even mattered now. No one would know of her past, her previous troublesome and somewhat rebellious nature in a place for her old school and only herself. It was a year ago from now, certainly she'd have changed from then. Or, in better words, she wanted to mask it deep inside. She promised it to her parents.
Moving schools meant moving overall, but she was sure she'd get used to the new environment sooner or later. Voltaire Lycée, the only academy daring to take things further and expand into a mixed school containing both boys and girls. Such a big change, things were seemingly passing so fast. It was the only thing the newspapers and radio were discussing about all day long for the past three days.
She was now brushing her hair, styling it while in her bathrobe. She added a small touch of makeup on her lashes, in a effort not to seem as tired from sleeping late the earlier day. Her anxiety forbid her from it. To bring some sort of color to her lips, she applied some chapstick. She didn't want to impress anybody, but didn't want to stand out by appearing like some sort of messy girl. That'd make a horrible impression. She opted to blend in with everybody else, which wasn't as easy since she was expected as one of the other few new girls. She'd stand out either way. How many girls would even attend that school anyway?
Either way, she hoped for a change. From having more than fifty absences, five to nine out of twelve marks, constantly snapping at her other classmates and breaking into fights, to becoming a lady with a future ahead of her.
There was a knock on her bedroom door, "[Name]," a soft voice called from behind it, "are you ready yet? Your father could give you a ride to school."
"No, it's okay," she got up from her chair, giving a last look at herself from her mirror. "I'd lather walk on my first day."
Her mother nodded and left without a word, leaving her to finish in getting ready.
[Name] opened her wardrobe, inspecting her clothes and in the end decided upon a matching set of a top and short skirt that she tried out the day before. Before leaving her room she wore her pair of Mary-Jane's.
She headed to her kitchen, where her parents were already awake, eating their breakfast before work. She took a seat and took a sip of her prepared coffe. "Good morning," she said.
Her father swallowed his own coffe before speaking, "Good morning. How do you feel about your new school?"
"Rather anxious."
"No wonder," her mother said. "A mixed school? It's a much troublesome shift from what we're used too. Wouldn't you agree, dear?"
Her dad finished his coffe, placing his mug down. "Well, we do what we can do. If only you would behave, [Name]."
"[Father name], " her mother glanced at him with knotted brows. "Don't start again."
He ignored her warnings, "Now make sure to get your shit together or else things will be really complicated. I'm saying this from the bottom of my heart."
"I know," [Name] simply said.
Her mother still kept an eye on her husband and sighed, turning her attention at her daughter. "Now you have a nice day, okay? Be home right after school or if you want stop by the bakery."
[Name] finished her butter bread, taking her bag as she got up and went to the front door.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" she got interrupted. Internally groaning, she went back and kissed her parents on the cheek.
"Alright, bye," she finally said and left.
Since it was still early, she stopped at her neighborhood supermarket to buy herself a pack of Gauloises, thanking the owner and lighting one while on her way. Just then she realized she didn't know the way.
Minutes later she regretted not accepting her parents' offer to drive her to school. Cursing under her breath at her possibility of being late on her first day, she kept her fast pase as she took a turn on the street she thought the school was located.
To her utter luck, she was right. When she noticed the front gate inspector closing the door she jogged there yelling for him stop. He rose his head towards her, earning his attention.
He threw his cigarette, chuckling softly. "Lucky for you, it's your first day, miss, otherwise I'd have left you locked outside," he said and opened the gate for her.
"Sorry, it won't happen again..." she breathed out.
"Well, they haven't made their way inside. Mr. Belanger is giving a speech."
"Thanks," she said and walked hurrily where everyone stood.
On top of the building's stairs stood the school staff, the students surprisingly listening from bellow. She shoved herself between the crowd to catch a word he was saying.
"-Gentlemen, I expect you to...to be as polite, respectful, magnanimous and dignified as I know you can...when on your best behavior."
"Who is that?" she asked herself.
"The school's Dean," she wasn't really expecting an answer, yet a guy replied from beside her.
She nodded at him, staying silent for a moment before talking again. "Damn, I don't even know in what class I am."
"Don't worry. They'll call your name anyway."
Just then, a woman walked forward, holding a sheet or paper. "I'll now be calling the first-year's, then proceed the second year's due to the addition of female students."
"Just like that," he smirked and Mr. Bluebeard began reading the paper.
[Name] breathed out a sigh of relief. "Good. Because I was afraid of almost getting detention from being late."
He let out a laugh, "On your first day? There's no way a person could achieve that record. Not even me. I can assure you I've tried. I don't think you get detention from being late."
"No," she said. "I said almost. Wait, what do you mean y-"
The call of her name interrupted her question.
"That's your name, right? Seems like you're in class 1B."
"Oh, yeah," she said looking as some other students walked up the starts when their names were called. "See you."
She took a seat behind two girls, and as she did so smiled at them when they seemed to acknowledged her. Little by little everyone gathered in class, each taking their seats.
The woman that was calling out the students from before walked in. "I am Mrs. Giraud, your homeroom teacher."
Then, a girl with blonde hair entered the class, eyeing the empty seats anxiously. She had her hair styled with a headband that matched her dress which was beautifully complimenting her figure. It was no surprise everyone was looking at her with either admiration or a tint of desire.
She took a seat at a desk in the front, and [Name] felt somehow disappointed she didn't choose to sit next to her instead.
Mrs. Giraud noticed her gesture. "What's your name miss?"
She got up from her seat, holding her hands together politely. "Annick Sabiani."
"Where do you think you are, miss Sabiani?"
She didn't get enough time to respond at her question.
"Do you think it's okay to sit next to a boy?" she asked sternly. "Get your things."
She began doing so, but Mrs. Giraud interrupted her again. "No. You," she pointed towards the boy next to her. He looked at her for a moment and she continued, "Get up. Go sit in the back."
"But I can't see from there."
"Back row, now," she then looked at [Name], realizing she failed in noticing her presence before. "And what's your name, miss?"
She got up, awkwardly looking around the class and trying to ignore the stares. "[Name] [Last name]."
"You sit in the front."
She gathered her bag and did as she was told, still feeling the stares accompanied with whistling sounds and whispers. The boy tried to do the same, but someone put his foot in the way. That made him trip and almost fall, the group of boys laughing and making pig noises. "It's not your day, piggy."
The teacher did nothing about it, only complaining about being interrupted. "Quiet! As I was saying... Mrs. Giraud, with a "D" as in "discipline.""
[Name] wasn't listening what she was saying anymore, glancing at the person who was at fault of tripping the poor guy. He was grinning at his friend beside him, finding it wholehearted hilarious, like it was comedy gold. He fixed his glasses before he pretending he was paying attention to Mrs. Giraud. Instead he wrote a note and showed it next to him, the duo starting cackling quietly.
Next period was Latin, where she was met with Mr. Douillard. She ultimately ended up not having a really good idea about him, earning already a bad impression by him ignoring the girls when they raised their hand. She grew more and more annoyed when he pretended not to noticed her and she just stopped trying. Sabiani did not back down, though. Still, Mr. Douillard picked the only guy that had raised his hand.
"I think she raised her hand," the same guy with the glasses pointed out in a snarky tone. He pressed his lips together to hold himself from laughing.
Much to the teachers dismay of having to pick a girl student, he side-eyed Sabiani. "Indeed. So?"
She pushed her chair back, fixing her dress. "The Romans welcome Horatio with joy and congratulations and escort him to his house."
"The Romans "cheer" Horatio," he corrected, obviously not wanting to lower to the level of ever praising a girl, wanting to dismiss their existence entirely. "Can you conjugate the verb "ovare"?"
As Sabiani was answering, [Name] noticed the guy from before writing something on a paper, giving it to the person next to him and whispering something. The note was passed down until the teacher noticed.
"Give me that," he ordered, interrupting Sabiani.
The poor guy sighed and stood up walking up to the teacher and handing the note. From where [Name] sat she couldn't see anything but by the expression of Mr. Douillard she could tell it wasn't good.
The unlucky person sighed and stood up walking up to the teacher and handing the note. [Name] knew of him. He was Alain Laubrac, a guy who happened to be in the same gang she used to hang out last year. She stopped hanging out with them after her expulsion, when she was grounded all summer, cutting all ties with them thankfully. She hadn't spoke to him since like the rest. From where she sat she couldn't see anything but by the expression of Mr. Douillard she could tell it wasn't good.
"Think this is funny?"
"It wasn't me."
"Who is responsible for this masterpiece?"
No answer. The guy who drew it pretended he didn't know a thing, placing his pen under his bottom lip.
"Your name?"
"It wasn't me," Alain repeated.
"'It wasn't me'," Mr. Douillard sighed, "All culprits have the same name. They must be related. Okay, Mr. 'It wasn't me'...'"
"My name is Laubrac," he corrected.
"Are you the boy from the foster care?"
The whole class chuckled at that.
"Some nobody's son's trying to graduate? How amusing. Didn't anyone teach you discipline in the care system? I won't let a bastard disrupt my class. Get out."
"But he didn't do anything!" a girl with blond pigtails protested.
"Nobody taught you to raise your hand in your girls' school, Miss Magnan? Or maybe you think you have a free pass because your uncle is the Dean," the teacher mocked, hitting the paper on his palm. "Escort your new friend to your uncle's office. He'll give you detention too."
They both left the room with their heads low, the class filled with silence.
[Name] bit the inside of her mouth, raising a hand.
"Yes, miss?" the teacher complained.
"With all due respect, sir, but you're being really unfair," she said. Mr. Douillard was taked aback and she continued before he interrupted. "It was Picasso over there who did it," she eyed the glasses-guy from the back.
The smile he wore dissappeared, now glaring at her and preparing to argue something back.
"You've got a nerve talking to me like that, miss [Last Name]," the teacher said. "Don't think I haven't been informed of your performance in your past school. I'm not afraid to get you expelled here too."
The class suddenly filled with murmurs.
"Unless you want detention as well I advice you to sit back down."
She looked down and without having anything else to say she sat on her chair. Her grip on her pen tightened when she looked back and seeing the guy still stare at her, slowly forming a winning smirk.
Bastard, she thought.
Finally lunch came, and she exhaled a sigh of relief as she stood up from her seat, an instant need to stretch her body overtaking her. She only wanted to smoke as soon as possible, the necessity of nicotine calling out to her from not being present for a while. She closed her notebook and walked out the classroom as soon as there was space for her to walk through the students.
She walked down the big row of starts, avoiding in pushing the boy in front of her, but still having trouble keeping her patience.
Just as she was about to turn a corner she felt her face being hit with a flat surface, being jolted back.
"Woah, what's the rush?" she felt an arm on her shoulder and was met with a silly smile. It was the guy from earlier in the morning.
"Sorry," she said, feeling embarrassed. She allowed herself to groan, feeling free from expressing her feelings. Even in front of this guy she just met. "I just couldn't stay in that room anymore."
"I didn't know class 1B was that far off," he joked.
"You know anyone from there?"
"Certainly. I could name quite a few if you ask me."
"Ugh, then I'm sure you know. Speaking of, in what class did you end up?"
He placed a hand in his pocket. "2B," he smiled. "If my last name was different we could've been in the same class. Maybe then the school year wouldn't be so bad."
"Yeah, talk about luck," she played along his playful attitude. She didn't know where he was getting at, but he was at least tolerable. "Oh, hey, we haven't met properly before."
"You're right," he extended his palm, smiling at her. "Mick Travis."
She replied with her name, shaking his hand. "Mick Travis? Is that French or..."
"I'm originally from Britain, but I've moved here for a while. I don't know for how long but I'll do what I can in the meantime. Second year in this school and I can't wait to get out of here."
"Did something happen last year?"
"It's a long story," he said simply, changing the subject. "So, where are you headed?"
In the end they sat at a bench, under a tree to avoid the bright sun from blinding their eyes and having to constantly squint at each other. Travis sat sideways, his one leg crossed while the other was extended freely, his head resting on his palm, the other holding his cigarette.
[Name] lazily looked up at the tree as the wind moved it's leafs, making her almost fall asleep. "Are they gotta tell us something for not going to eat?"
"Hell no, I'm sure they know how ass the food is anyway. We're just saving our lives at the moment."
She hummed, putting out her finished cigarette.
"So," he adjusted his head, in a way to look at her. "What do you think of this school?"
"I don't know. But I hope this year passes quickly. Last year was the worst year of my life."
This peacked his interest. "How so?"
"Long story," she laughed when she realized he responded the same way before. "Maybe I'll tell you if I skip a class."
"Fine."
Break ended too quickly for [Name] to enjoy and she dragged her feet to class, with Travis having to sometimes push her while she groaned in annoyance.
She walked inside, making eyecontact with Sabiani and giving her a look of "I can't stand being here already." The poor girl only giving her a sympathetic smile in response.
She was about to sleep on her desk, when a commotion made her raise her head to see what was going on. Descamps and his friends – whatever their names were, she didn't even bother to know – were making a fuss over something, and she noticed quickly a bucket filled with water behind the door. Descamps grabbed it and attempted to place it on top of the door, ordering one of his friends to keep watch from outside in the process.
The class did nothing, and so did [Name]. It took her a while to realize that a prank was happening, so whoever were to walk in would get drenched in that dirty bucket water. She rose from her seat, throwing her chair back and scaring Sabiani from beside her. She did promise not to act out, in hopes of not getting unwanted attention from the teachers, but she had enough from that Latin teacher anyway. She wouldn't let anyone stop her now.
She walked up to him, pushing him and making him almost spill the water. He narrowed his eyes at her, before he flashed her a cocky smile. "What's that? Didn't you learn your lesson from getting expelled from your last school? Are you planning on doing the same thing here?"
She clenched her jaw at the nerve he had. He didn't even know of her, yet acted better than her. "I'll get expelled for this? You're the one putting a bucket on top of the damn door."
She felt a hand grabbing her wrist and she turned around. "Don't get involved, just continue sleeping on your desk like you were before," it was one of Descamps friends.
She snatched her hand away, "Don't touch me." Turning her attention back at the vile glasses-wearing guy, she attempted to take the bucket away from him, only for him to raise it over her head, mocking her in the process. She would've been intimidated by his height, but she was already used to scarier guys from last year. Descamps laughed at her unsuccessful attempts, then motioned something to his friend. He got the memo and held back [Name] by restraining her.
"Let me down!" she yelled, but they ignored her, finally Descamps putting the damn bucket where he planned from the beginning. She looked at the rest of the class, everyone doing nothing about the whole thing and staying silent in their seats. She made eyecontact with Laubrac, her eyes seeking for his help. He only looked away, hiding his shame.
The victim of the prank was Magnan, as the water completely covered her from head to toe. Her braids were starting to fall apart from her cute style. Her frozen body left in shock as she looked around the class, everyone watching her without reaction. [Name] felt shame when she realized the water made the fabric on her chest area visible, being stuck on her skin.
Descamps and his friends were the only ones breaking the silence in the room, chuckling to themselves and breaking out laughing, [Name] being no longer being held back.
Suddenly he swallowed hard and composed himself at the sight of Mrs. Couret. He looked at her nervously and placed both his hands in his pockets.
Mrs. Couret was in shock at first, but acted quickly, taking of her jacket and putting it around Magnan. She ordered [Name] and Sabiani to look over the class, but they knew that with both of them combined they couldn't control Descamps and his dumb crew. Moments later, they exited the classroom, headed to the nurses office.
If that wasn't enough, Descamps even drew on the chalkboard, being a picture of who she assumed was Magnan, her chest area being the most prominent. [Name] was about to go off again, but Sabiani grabbed her wrist instead, shaking her head at her to tell her to stop. After a bit of contemplating she backed down. Before she could even sigh in disappointment, a senior barged inside the classroom.
He pushed a guy from his way and swing at one of the guys that indulged in the "prank". Sabiani yelled at them to stop but it escalated even worse. Descamps went to defend him, and this lead to him being hit. In the eye area. Next thing she knew, he was kneeled to the ground. Everything had happened so fast, [Name] was frozen in place.
Without thinking she fell next to him, trying to get a look at his injury. It was pretty hard to do so, as he pressed onto his left eye, his back slouching more and more as he couldn't contain his pain anymore. His groans made him so he couldn't hear the girl from beside him, but the warm touch on his shaking body comforted him even for a bit.
[Name] felt herself suddenly being pushed back, and she calmed herself when she realized it was the Dean.
"Let me see," he said, crouching to Descamps' level.
"My eye...! I can't see..."
"Don't touch it okay? Can you stand up?" when he nodded, he helped him get up. He then ordered Pichon to get the nurse, but she was already there.
"He's got some glass in his eye," Mr. Belanger said softly at his wife, as she placed a hand on his back and led him outside, mentioning something about taking him to the hospital.
"Get back to your class!" he yelled at the students that were watching from outside the door. "Dupin, take your seat. Jean-Pierre, my office. You two, put the chairs back. You wipe that off. And you, clean that now!" he looked at the rest of the class, his piercing look sending shivers down [Name]'s spine. "Everyone else, take your seats!" he ordered and the tone of his voice made everyone do so without question. "Quietly!"
He sighed, "I'll leave you to it, Miss Couret," he said, giving a last look to the teacher that had just arrived before storming off.
The rest of the day seemed to pass way slower that before.
tagging: @kpoploverxx-12 @puchosdementa @tropicalheart13 @luvmacyyyy @aiuragf @idontlikemonday @helchronicles @bubblegum-bitchhhhhhhhh @visndcaitswhore @blueberryblood11 @remusmuse @pookayyyyy @blvckdress @lirominissss @issoais-blog @murxhavia @b3l1z8 @nikkoiiii @beau-min
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Douzième Fille
12th girl
××《☆》××
After the incident, things take a turn for both better and worse. All with that, gym class has turned the school into a zoo. When people can't take their eyes off of what's yours, you take their ability to see. What an ironic thing for a one-eyed boy to set his mind to.
===
Joseph Descamps x Reader
Warnings: injury, teen boys being teen boys, jealousy (there's a small love triangle in this chapter)
===
===
Chapter two: My eye only
===
I stand next to Simone, waiting a few feet away from the butcher's for Michèle. I rummaged through my bag, making sure everything I needed for gym class was with me.
Simone rubs her thigh next to me. I smack her arm lightly.
"Stop touching it. You're going to make it worse." I say and she stops.
"It's going to be so embarrassing when we go to gym class. What if the love of my life will be there, and they see me with this ugly bruise on my thigh? First impressions are important. This bruise is gonna mess it up." Simone sighs anxiously.
"I don't think you'll meet the love of your life in a room full of sweaty, teenage boys. Plus, I think you've already met him. 3 o'clock." I nod my head towards Jean Pierre, walking out of the butcher's side door.
She greets him, and he only looks at her. I nod as a greeting. He only glances at me, too.
After a while, Michèle follows after him, closing the door.
"What's going on?" Simone asks Michèle. I greet her good morning. She smiles and greets me.
"He has a disciplinary hearing this afternoon." Michèle says, worried a little. We start to walk.
"There's nothing you can do. Stop worrying. Know what else is today? Our first gym class." I nod in agreement.
"Guess what?" I already knew the answer to that question, and roll my eyes.
"I fell this morning. I'm going to have a huge bruise." Simone whines.
××《☆》××
We are walking through the gate when Simone greets two girls.
"You already know everybody's name?" Michèle asks, impressed. I nod to the girls Simone greeted.
"Not everybody. Just the girls." Simone smiles at Michèle.
"I hope we don't do endurance classes. Do you sweat a lot?" She turns her head. "Hi, Laubrac." She turns back to us. We hear Laubrac say hi, too. Michèle also greets him.
"Why did you say hello to him?" Michèle asks Simone.
"Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Michèle?" I tease her, smiling at her now flustered state. Simone laughs.
"No. Why would I be jealous?" Michèle says defensively.
"Don't worry. I'm just teasing. But I see the way you look at him. Did something happen in detention that I don't know about...?" I tease further.
Her face turns red like a tomato. Me and Simone laugh more.
"Whatever. Moving on, I swear, if my brother gets kicked out..." She shakes her head.
"He won't." Simone reassures with a knowing tone in her voice.
"Don't you remember Descamps? He took his eye out." Michèle exclaims. I feel myself gag, remembering the incident.
"Fine. But you know what's good?" Simone asks her.
"Don't say he still has one eye." Michèle says before Simone could answer her own question.
"Descamps is recuperating at home, so the teachers aren't seeing him. But they are seeing your brother." Simone says matter-of-factly.
"Your brother with his perfectly combed hair, good grades, nice manners." She's totally in love with him, it's obvious.
"People are thinking about him. No one's thinking about the one-eyed boy." We look in front of us to see everyone looking towards the gate. We turn around, and my heart drops to my stomach.
In all his glory, Joseph Descamps stands, had just walked through the gate. He looks the same as the day I last saw him, only now with a bandage on his eye and the glint of sun in them gone.
××《☆》××
Heels clack against the hardwood floor, making it creak.
My eyes travel to a familiar mop of ash brown hair. He turns his head, and I'm lost in a trance, unable to look away.
I was right. There was no brightness in his eyes (or eye) anymore. His stare felt blank, unreadable. He continues to stare, and that's when I snap back to reality and look away.
I still feel his eye on me for a few seconds, and then he goes to turn his head. Though his stare felt cold, without it, I felt colder.
"Can someone give me the dates of the Battle of the Marne?" Annick and a boy raise their hands.
"Mr Felbec?" Ms. Giraud says, and Felbec stands up.
"September fifth to the twelfth, 1914." Felbec answers. As I watch Felbec, I feel a pair of eyes on me. They're framed, but not Descamps.
It's the blonde boy. Applebaum was his name. He's decent looking, tall, sharp nose, but not so sharp sight. I look at him, and he looks away hurriedly.
Ms. Giraud gives a slow nod. "And who were the opposing armies?" Annick jumps in her seat, trying to get Ms. Giraud's attention. It certainly caught mine.
"Ms. Sabiani, are you going to jump on the desk for me to see you?" Ms. Giraud walks over to her. "Don't you think you have enough attention as it is?"
Is she jealous of Annick? Her beauty? Her youth? Her knowledge? It seems like it. Annick slowly drops her hand.
"The opposing armies." Ms. Giraud lets Annick answer.
"The French and the Germans." Annick answers.
"And the British Expeditionary Force. Don't raise your hand if you only know half the answer." Ms. Giraud adds on, rather cockily. Imagine bullying your student for your own benefit.
As she walks to her desk, she talks again. I might go deaf. "And please tie your hair back. This isn't a party. Okay, we'll talk more about the Battle of Marme tomorrow."
I feel Descamps turns his head to me again. I look, and I'm still met with an emotionless eye. He maintains it, but I waver and look away.
"Let's move on to naming our class leader." This catches my attention. Felbec raises his hand again. Ms. Giraud calls his name. When I turn to look at him, Applebaums eyes are stamped on me. I ignore his stare and shift in my seat.
"My classmates have always picked me as their class leader." Felbec tells Ms. Giraud. The class laughs. "I'm studious and get good grades." He adds, standing upright.
I still feel Applebaum's eyes on me. I glance at him and smile softly. He smiles back, a blush coating his cheeks. He's cute. I return my attention to the two people standing.
"Well, I'm not like your previous teachers, Felbec. You'll have to earn it." Ms. Giraud says with a smile. It doesn't fit her. Felbec sits back down.
"Does the Battle of Marathon mean anything to anyone?" Ms. Giraud asks the class. No one answers.
"I see. Whoever can give me the date of the Battle of Marathon this afternoon will be named class leader." Too bad I don't know the date. I sigh, not too bothered.
Unbeknownst to me, Descamps glares at the back of Applebaum's head and will do so the rest of the day.
××《☆》××
Me and Michèle wait for Simone to come back. She does after a while. We hear fast and light footsteps on the stairs. She sits in between us.
"So, I was right. There's a massive bruise on my thigh." She makes an O shape with her hand. We lean in to see. I make a hissing noise, feeling bad.
"What if I meet the love of my life today? Like tonheston. I see him. He sees me. We fall in love. And then bam. He sees my bruise." Simone fades into her thoughts. I shake my head, chuckling.
"I already told you. I don't think any of those boys are going to be the love of your life. Besides, don't you have a thing for-"
Simone cuts me off by putting a hand on my mouth. She gives me a wide-eyed look, nodding towards Michèle. I realise what could've slipped past my tongue and mouth 'sorry'.
Michèle looks at both of us confused, but before she could say anything, Jean Pierre walks out the school's doors. He looks at Michèle with a glare.
"Are you okay?" Michèle asks worriedly.
"Ask me again after the hearing." Jean Pierre replies coldly. I chill at his tone.
"He'll be fine. You'll see." Jean Pierre's friend reassures Michèle. They walk away.
"Fingers crossed, Jean Pierre. Good luck." Simone calls out. I give her a knowing look, and she gives me a look of desperation. I raise my hands as if to say fine.
I look to the side, and I see Applebaum. I wave to him. He waves back. When I look away, I see him through my peripherals, talking to his friends.
"Do you like him?" Simone asks me.
"I don't know yet." I smile to myself. Maybe this will make school more interesting. I turn my head. There's an eye trained on me, so intense I could feel it. It couldn't have been Applebaum.
I look up, and Descamps is staring, sitting on the bench I saw him on the first day. I squint to see him better. I could've sworn I saw his jaw twitch. I look away.
××《☆》××
"The boys have a locker room, and all we get is the teachers' bathroom." Simone says from inside.
"My brother hates me." Michèle says, mostly to herself, but also to us. I purse my lips in pity.
"Stop it." Simone says in an annoyed tone.
"Really. Even before all this. He's always been pushing me away." Michèle continues even after Simone's reply.
"I witnessed it, Simone. It's true." I say through the door to let Simone hear my voice. Michèle looks at me in thanks. I nod.
Simone opens the door, now clothed in her gym clothes.
"Brothers don't hate their sisters." Simone tells Michèle to reassure her. It doesn't work.
"You're just lucky." Michèle detests.
I walk into the bathroom to change. I try to rush, our gym class starting in a few minutes. My clothes are a bit small, growing out of them since last school year. I adjust it a bit. The shorts are too short, shirt tight, but comfortable enough. I shrug.
I walk out the bathroom. The girls look at me.
"Wow, look at that figure of yours. Let's go before class starts without us." Simone grabs me and Michèle's arms and drags us to the gym.
They continued a conversation I hadn't been in, so I just blocked it out. We walk out the school, boys turning their heads to take a second look.
××《☆》××
"Hiding it draws more attention to it." Michèle tells Simone as Simone tugs at her shorts. I walk in a few steps behind them, entering the gym.
"It's yellow and green with purple spots. It's gross." I cringe at the description.
"No one will see it." Michèle reassures Simone.
"Everyone will see it. These shorts." Simone groans. The boys walk in with their tanktops and shorts.
"Great, you're all wearing navy blue. Maybe if I just stand sideways." Simone shifts her feet. I stand in front of her, covering it with my leg. She smiles at that.
All boys look to their right when Annick walks in. All of them except Applebaum, who keeps his eyes on me. I guess he gained a bit of confidence because he waves and smiles. I wave back and smile, too.
"Guess there's no need to stand sideways after all." Simone says, defeated.
××《☆》××
The boys scatter around, stretching and walking around. The coach commands them to do certain things I didn't care to listen to.
Applebaum walks behind us. I turn and smile.
"Hello, Applebaum." I greet, and he turns rushed from his bended position. His cheeks are flushed. I smile softer, trying to make him less uncomfortable.
Descamps walks into the gym and sees me and Applebaum interacting. He continues to watch. I don't notice him.
"Hi." That's all he says. I nod. Good enough.
"Good luck in there." I tilt my head to the boys, beginning their formation. He smiles.
"Thanks. You, too." He stutters out, placing his glasses on the bleachers hurriedly, almost running away from me.
Simone turns around. "Why is he running away from you? Did you say something? He's so red." She laughs.
"I just greeted him. I don't know why he's so shy." I reply, confusion in both my face and voice. "And he said you too when I said good luck. That doesn't make sense."
Simone laughs louder. When Michèle asks why she's laughing, Simone explains, and now Michèle is laughing, too. I roll my eyes, but a smile finds it way to my face.
Descamps is on the bleachers across from us. I feel a gaze on me. When I follow it, my eyes lock with his. He smirks. I scowl.
Annick raises her hand and calls out for the coach.
"Oh, right." He says. "The girls." A sigh.
××《☆》××
We look at the rope attached to the ceiling. I grimace.
"Climbing? Is he joking?" The three girls shake their head. I sigh.
"Who first?" No one answers.
I glance at the game, wanting to watch the boys play through it. They start to assemble, the game starting. I notice Applebaum moving around weirdly, squinting and turning his head rapidly. He really can't see without those glasses.
He gets hit in the head and falls to the ground. The boys go up to him. My brows crease in worry. In the bleachers, Descamps smiles. It triggers me.
I get up from the mat, the girls asking me where I'm going. I ignore them, rushing up to Applebaum.
"Applebaum, are you okay?" I hiss in pity, a red mark on his forehead.
"Pardine?" Even without his glasses, he still recognises me. That's sweet. I smile.
"Mhm. Are you still good?" He nods at that. I help him up. Out of the corner of my eye, I feel Descamps dark stare on both me and Applebaum. I ignore it.
"Be careful." That's the last thing I say before going back to the girls.
"You so like him." Michèle teases. I smile. I think I'm starting to.
Annick gets on the rope, and Simone holds it still for her.
"She's even good at gym. She's Marilyn Monroe's secret daughter." Simone tells me and Michèle. We laugh.
"No, I swear. She's nothing like us. Did you see her skin? It's perfect. Straight out of Hollywood." Simone says, convincing us that she was serious.
They look to their left. I keep my eyes on Annick and on the game.
"Your brother is looking for you." Simone tells Michèle. Jean Pierre ushers her to him, and both of them go. I replace Simone's position by handling the rope.
Simone comes back after a while, taking her place on the rope again. I sigh. Let's see how long this'll be.
××《☆》××
Annick finishes climbing up the rope. I decided to go next. I grip on the rope and start climbing. When I'm at least five feet away from the ground, my hands shift, and I fumble.
I start to go down, my hand that's still on the rope getting a burn, and the inside of my thigh gets the same injury. Three feet away from the floor, I fall on my back.
The loud thud gets attention from everyone in the gym. Simone and Michèle quickly get to me, asking if I'm okay. I don't respond, my injuries stinging.
I get up after catching my breath. I stand slowly with the support of Michèle. I nod, and she lets me go.
Descamps walks towards us, and I think of something to say. "What do you want now?" I don't look up at him, eyes on the burn on my thigh.
"Coach told me to bring you to the clinic." He says with a sigh.
"Why can't the others do it instead?" I ask him, now looking up and feeling cold sweat. His stare is so dark. His height makes him more intimidating. I don't show my sudden fear.
"Because I'm the only one not in this class. Now quit complaining and come with me." He grabs my arm harshly, but his hold is gentle. I wince anyway. He rubs it gently.
××《☆》××
As we reach the clinic, the nurse is disappointingly not there. Great.
"Sit down." Descamps says, a commanding tone in his voice. I sit on one of the beds.
He grabs a few things from the first aid kit. I look at him in wonder.
"I didn't know you knew how to take care of injur-"
"What the hell was that?" He cuts me off, caging me in with his arms on the bed. He's glaring. He's mad. Why is he mad?
"What?" I ask, clueless. What could he be mad about?
"Your injury. If you weren't so foolish and took care of yourself, you wouldn't have burns on you." He grabs my wrist and puts it up, showing me my own injury. I wince in pain, and something shifts in him. Regret and worry.
"Why do you care so much?" I say, now angry. Something shifts in him again. Annoyance. I whip my wrist from his hands. He grabs it again.
"It doesn't matter why I care. What matters is that you're hurt because 'you' don't care." He squints at me. "Plus, why are you wearing such small clothes? Is it because of Applebaum? Do you care what he thinks? Do you like him?" He furrows his eyebrows.
"He's nice to me. The only boy besides Pichon." He clenches his jaw.
"Pichon, huh? That piggy? Do you like both of them?" He chuckles. "The blind boy and the pig. You have bad taste." He leans in close. Too close. I feel his breath on my face. I glance at his lips, then back up to his eye.
"You call him blind when you only have one eye, and at least Pichon has respect for us girls. Unlike you." I tilt my head, urging him on. He stays quiet for a while. His eye moves from my eyes to my lips.
"Stop being a brat." He says, voice low. He lifts my hand up and blows on my palm. I feel myself relax, my breathing shaky. He still has his eye on me. I look at him. He doesn't look away.
He continues to blow until he has no breath left in him. He takes a disinfectant, spills a few drops of it on cotton, and gently pats it on my burn. I wince. He rubs my hand with his thumb.
"Be careful next time. I don't want to have to take you to the clinic again." He says, voice almost a whisper, but still low that you can see his throat vibrate.
"Trust me. Now I know that it would be you taking care of me, I'll be a lot more careful not to end up here." I whisper, too, feeling tension in the air.
He scoffs. "Didn't I tell you to stop being a brat?" He says a bit harshly, but his touch is still so gentle that you could fall asleep.
I don't say anything back. After he puts antiseptic on my palm, he gently wraps it in gauze. I watch his face. He's entirely focused, there's even worry etched on his brows.
He put my palm down gently. He looks up at me, eye scanning mine as he hovers his hand on my thigh. I nod.
He put his hand down. Both of us let out a breath we didn't know we were holding. He might've thought he hurt me because his hand caresses me gently. Very, very gently. I might pass out from relaxation.
On my inner thigh, there's a small burn. He grabs a cotton with disinfectant and does the same procedure he did on my palm.
Once he finishes, his hand stays on my thigh.
He bites his lip. "Be careful. Remember it." He says, his voice so low I could barely understand what he said. But he was so close, I could even hear the stutter in his breath.
"Okay." I whisper out, my breath moving his hair. The door opens, and the nurse comes in. Descamps steps away from me, and I feel cold. Like winter with no fire. Autumn with no coat. So, yes, it feels very cold.
"Ms. Pardine. Sorry I couldn't tend to you. I was on my break." I shake my head, dismissing it. I get up, and Descamps is suddenly by my side, helping me straighten up. I look at him. He doesn't even glance at me. Instead, he's looking at the wall to his left.
We head out of the clinic. It's break time already. Descamps walks away, disappearing in the tunnel, not even saying goodbye.
I walk towards Michèle and Simone. I sit on the bench, and they look at me worriedly.
"Y/N, are you okay? We've been worried since you left with Descamps. Did he do anything to you?" Simone asks, eyeing my injuries. I purse my lips.
"He only took care of me, surprisingly." I keep my head down. They nod, relaxing. I see Descamps' group of friends walk out the tunnel with Pichon's group just a few feet behind them. They talk, Applebaum's glasses not on his face. I furrow my brows.
"Hey, guys. Can you come with me later to change?" They nod.
I glance back at the boys. Descamps is now talking to Pichon. I start to worry.
"Why does she never talk to us? Celebrities do that. She says she's never been to Hollywood, but who knows?" Simone says, cutting me out of my trance. I already know who she's talking about.
"Maybe she's just introverted?" I say based on my observations. Simone shrugs. She looks to Michèle.
"Are you listening?" Simone asks her. She seems distracted lately. Michèle says yes. I doubt she had her head in the conversation.
"Hearings can take a while. Don't worry." Simone tells Michèle. I nod, feeling pity for her.
"Don't feel bad if he's going through this, Michèle. He just wanted to defend you. That was his choice, you know? He cares." I tell her, placing a hand over hers.
"Have you used the climbing rope a lot?" Michèle asks. Very random, but Simone answers anyway.
"No, why?" She says, smiling confused.
"No reason. Forget it." Me and Simone purse out lips and forget about it. We look around the courtyard. I see Pichon pop out of the tree next to us. I look at him confused. He walks to our bench and starts calling out for Annick.
"You can just talk to her." Simone tells him. Annick walks over to Pichon, and they walk away.
"Do you think he's going to propose?" Simone asks as a joke. I laugh.
"Probably." They laugh, too.
××《☆》××
"So," Ms. Giarud places her coat on her chair. "Who deserves to be class leader?"
Descamps raises his hand, Felbec, too. I look at Descamps confused. How does he know?
"Mr. Felbec. Did you find the date of the Battle of Marathon?" Felbec stands up.
"Fifth century, B.C." Felbec answers.
"Correct. Would you say 'twentieth century' if I asked about the Battle of Verdun?" The class chuckles. Descamps raises his hand again.
"Mr. Descamps. Can you do better?" Ms. Giraud lets him stand.
"Four hundred ninety B.C." Impressed noises come from our class. I raise my eyebrows.
"Congratulations, Descamps. That's very impressive." It is impressive. Very.
"Can you tell me where you found the date?" This is where I have a feeling he doesn't know. I'm right. But he plays it off.
"In our book." Wrong answer, Descamps. I smile slyly.
"Surprising. The Persian Wars aren't part of the curriculum." Busted.
"Maybe it was another book. I don't remember." He's bad at playing this off. I sigh. Too bad for him.
"Already? If you've already forgotten something that happened today, how will you remember anything when you get your diploma?" Ms. Giraud says matter-of-factly.
"I gave him the date." Pichon says, standing up. That's how Descamps knows. That's what they were talking about earlier. Ms. Giraud lets Pichon continue.
"Four hundred ninety B.C. is in the manual on Ancient Greece." Pichon answers her.
"And I know that because..." He trails off and looks to the side. "I read it in the book."
"Why did you give the answer to Descamps?" Ms. Giraud asks him.
"I wasn't sure I could do it." He fumbles with his hands. "Being class leader, ma'am."
"There are worse faults than humility. Certain students, boys and girls, should remember that." Ms. Giraud says, fingertips balancing her on her table.
"Pichon, you are our class leader." Tension as sharp as a knife spreads around the classroom. I shift in my seat, uncomfortable in the silence. Good luck with them.
××《☆》××
"Should I iron Laubrac's jacket before I give it back?" Michèle smiles as she asks us.
"I knew you liked him. I totally called it." I say in triumph. They laugh. Michèle suddenly gasps.
"I forgot my cardigan." Michèle remembers, the smile on her face dropping.
"Go ahead. I have errands to run." Simone says. We all bid each other goodbye and part ways.
As I walk to my flat, a hand grabs my arm and covers my mouth. I prepare to scream, but stop midway when I see Descamps' face. I push him away.
"What was that for?" I shout angrily at him. He puts a finger to his lips, shushing me.
"You're too loud. Do you want to get caught?" He steps closer.
"Get caught doing wha-" He covers my mouth again, and I lick it. He pulls away, disgusted.
"Ew, why would you do that?" He wipes his hand on my shirt. I move away from him.
"Stop covering my mouth." I whisper-shout at him. We stand there, silent, his hand staying on my arm. I see him gulp, his adams apple bobbing up and down.
Our breaths are heavy. It's the only thing we hear. He walks a bit closer to me. I look up, his height getting taller.
"What do you want, Descamps?" I ask him, whispering. He doesn't say anything yet, eye focused on me. He drops his head.
"A warning." He says, his voice breaking a bit.
"What?" What does he mean by a warning?
"He got off with a warning." Oh. Jean Pierre.
"It's not fair. He took my eye out." I don't know why he's talking to me about this, but I feel pity anyway.
"Descamps-" I cut myself off when his arms wrap around my waist and his head tucks itself into my neck.
My hands absentmindedly go up to rub his back. I whisper confort into his ear. He isn't crying. He's just standing slumped, absorbing my warmth. I let him.
He suddenly pulls away, some sort of fear in his eyes. He runs out of the alley, and I'm left alone.
I decided after a while that I should start walking back home. He stays in mind the rest of the night. Even in my dreams, he lingers. His touch, his scent, his breath. And I hate it. I hate him.
××《☆》××
End of- Chapter two: My eye only
Next- Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say
××《☆》××
End of chapter two. I think this is longer than the first because i added more additional scenes so the joseph and the reader can interact. The enemies to lovers are really coming into place in this. Applebaum is a sweetheart, but for those who loved him here, sad to say, this will only be a one-time thing. Unless i change my mind in the future. Hope you guys liked it and again, leave a comment or dm me for recommendations. Thanks for reading!!!
#joseph descamps x reader#joseph descamps#mixte1963#michèle magnan#simone palladino#jean pierre magnan#alain laubrac#enemies to lovers#reader insert#fanfic#x reader#slow burn
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Behind Closed Doors
joseph descamps x reader
A/N: for anyone who cares
WARNINGS: smut!, light dubcon maybe, mean and jealous descamps
WORD COUNT: 1,082 words
You needed space. The party was getting rowdy and you were getting tipsy. You also couldn’t get the sight of Descamps shooting daggers into the side of your head out of your mind so you now find yourself an empty room, where you can kick off your heels and sit down. You still can’t figure out why he was glaring so harshly at you when all you were doing was dancing with some third year boy. He might hate you but you would have thought he would’ve been preoccupied with enjoying the party or at least, chatting up some girl.
“You shouldn’t wander off alone when there’s so many guys around.” You jump when you hear his voice.
“Screw off Descamps. I don’t understand why you can’t just leave me alone.”
“Who was that guy you were dancing with?” He grumbles, changing the subject.
“Why do you care?” You ask with a scoff.
“He was just a shit dancer.” You sense it in his voice… jealousy.
“Really? That’s all it is? Or are you jealous, Joseph?”
He looks pissed off at your insinuation but quickly pivots to careless amusement. “I didn’t realize we were on a first name basis.”
“And I didn’t realize you had a crush on me.” You tease, looking him right in the eye quite intensely.
“Why would I have a crush on an irritating brat like you?” He says defensively.
You ignore the insult. “You know, if you didn’t want me to dance with other boys, then you should’ve asked me to dance first. I might’ve said yes.”
“Of course you would’ve said yes, i’m the best looking guy in our class.” He puffs out his chest a bit as he says the pompous remark.
“The boy I was dancing with is also the handsomest in his class… and he’s a third year.”
He walks closer to where you sit. You try to look relaxed but he gets so close. His two fingers tilt your head up. “You’ve got such a mouth on you.”
The heat rises to your cheeks and you press your thighs together at the remark.
“I can think of a much better use for it.” His hand grips your shoulder as he coaxes you to your knees. “You know what I want?” He asks, palming at himself through his trousers. You nod, looking up at him through your lashes. “Of course you do. Bet a girl like you spends a lot of time on her knees.”
He fumbles with his belt buckle as you glare up at him. “If you want me to do this for you then you should stop being such a prick. You’re lucky I decided to do this.”
His cheeks go a little red but your scolding doesn’t make him any less hard. “Whatever.”
“Knew you had a crush on me.” You tease again.
“God, just suck already.” He pushes your head, fed up with your teasing. You wrap your lips around him slowly. You haven’t really done this before but you at least get the idea.
He whimpers when you start to suck him off gently. It’s clear that he hasn’t had this done for him before either. You think you’ll keep the fact that he whimpers in the back of your mind in case he decides to be an asshole at school again.
Descamps cums… fast with flushed cheeks and a groan. He’s clearly a little embarrassed about it too as you part your mouth from him.
“You would think that a guy who wanks as much as you do wouldn’t have this problem.” You say a little cruelly as payback for his light slut-shaming.
“The girl who just swallowed my cum should probably get down from her high horse.” He uses his hand to pull you up to your feet and then the same hand slips to your waist so he can keep you close.
“Tastes like shit.” You mumble.
“Hmm, does it?” He asks in an amused voice before he brings you in for a harsh kiss. “Tastes fine to me.”
He starts kissing your neck and before you know it, you’re pushed against a desk in the room. His hands roam freely over your body and one squeezes and gropes at your breast like he may never have the chance to do this again. Everything about his movement is inexperienced but very wanting.
“Ahh.” You gasp a bit as he nibbles at your neck, a distraction so he can slide his hand up your dress without you thinking twice. You then feel his fingertips against your panties. “Joseph!” You scold.
“C’mon just let me make you feel good. I just wanna return the favour.” He murmurs against your neck and you can’t refuse him.
His long fingers shove your panties to the side and he rubs them through your arousal.
“I didn’t think girls being this wet was a real thing.” He teases.
“Shut up.”
He rubs around haphazardly for a few moments before you guide him to your clit. Then it starts to feel good as he rubs around it in tight circles. He feels like a man as you moan into his mouth from pleasure he’s giving you. And when his fingers slip into you… you can barely keep yourself quiet.
“Yeah, you like that?” He eggs you on as he curls his fingers roughly against your sweet spot.
“Mmm, Joseph.” You whine and squirm from his rapid movements as you are used to a much slower pace from yourself. “It’s too much.”
“Really? Because with how your pussy is soaking my fingers, I would say it’s just the right amount.” He says, not slowing his pace even slightly.
He isn’t evil though, at least not completely, so when he sees how overstimulated you get after another thirty seconds, he goes back to rubbing your clit.
“See isn’t this just so much better than you being a brat all the time?” He smirks, not caring for your answer as he kisses you again.
“Oh, God. I think i’m gonna…” You spill yourself on his fingers, soaking his already damp digits even more.
“I knew you wanted it bad but I didn’t think you’d like it that much, doll.” He teases, pulling his fingers from you and licking them clean right in front of you. “Tastes delicious.” He murmurs. “Now, how about we fix you up and get back to the dance floor? I think it’s time we show everyone that you’re my girl.”
taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33
#mixte#mixte1963#voltaire high#voltaire high x reader#mixte x reader#joseph descamps#joseph descamps smut#descamps smut#joseph descamps x reader
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Désolé
A week had passed since Michéle’s brother had punched the boy who had played a joke on her. Of course she felt anger and embarrassment when water soaked up her entire school clothes but now that her brother was on the brim of getting expelled and her classmate had possibly lost an eye, she only felt utter guilt.
Her mind was clouded with all the possible outcomes that could come with her brother getting expelled. Would she even be able to keep staying at her new school? Would her parents also blame her? My god, Jean-Pierre will hate me forever! She thought when suddenly an arm wrapped around her shoulder.
“Morning!” Simones smile was brighter than ever that it could even make her feel a little better. “Morning Simone” Michéle replied but her voice came out different than she expected. “Oh my, are you still thinking about that dumb boy? It’s been a week, everyone’s already forgotten all about him.” She reassured her friend although it didn’t help much. “I’m not really concerned about him but more about my brother.” Michéle dragged her feet to school which she dreaded more than ever, her teachers and classmates all assume that she’s stuck up and gets a free pass because of her uncle now. Way to start off the new school year.
Can this get any worse? She thought to herself. “Don’t worry. I’ll always be by your side.” Michéle smiled, at least one person was making her feel less awful. As soon as the two friends entered through the school gate it was chatter all over the place. Yet the real talk of the school would enter minutes after. There he was, Joseph Descamps with an eye patch covering his left eye. It was dead quiet while he walked towards his friends, not missing a single glance at Michéle. She felt intimidated and scared although she was convinced he wouldn’t try doing something to her again because of her brother.
For a week she had been trying to reassure herself that he had it coming and that it wasn’t really her fault in the first place. She pressed her lips together tightly, her brows furrowing as she glanced at her friend once more, a similar expression on her face as well. Arm in arm they walked to class silently even though Simone tried to change the topic from time to time it was no use.
Time had passed and Michéle was sat in Latin for her second period. For the whole day she had been glancing at Joseph from time to time, even though he pretended not to notice he shared her glances a few times which left Michéle embarrassed and scribbling on paper, pretending to do something. “I’m so not ready for pe in third period. My bruise is so big! You cannot imagine how embarrassing it’s gonna be if people notice.” Simone whispered. “I don’t think it matters that much. That’s noting compared to Jospeh’s eye.” Although Michéle hadn’t intended for her reply to sound funny , Simone who felt absolutely no remorse let out a small cackle which caught the attention of the teacher.
“Is something funny?” Mr Douillard asked with an irritated tone which left the girl’s shaking their heads profusely. “You can stand outside if my lesson is boring you two!” He demanded and pointed at the door. Good, got in trouble once again. Michéle shut her eyes tightly as she and Simone left the classroom to stand out front. “He really needs to tone it down a bit. So dramatic!” Simone exclaimed in a louder tone than necessary which made Michéle alarm her to keep her voice down. “We have thin walls here, he can still hear us!”
Not a second later the door opened and left Simone and Michéle wide eyed. Had he really heard them?! A tall figure with his hands in his pocket appeared in front of them. It was Joseph. His eyes landed on the red haired girl as he stood there for a few seconds, watching her play with her fingers. Michéle averted her gaze as he walked past them, his shoulder intentionally bumping into Michéles smaller frame. “Watch it!” Simone yelled in an angry tone. “Who does he think he is?!” But Michéle knew that he was angry and was probably going to let his anger out on her…
————————————————————————————
It was during break in which Michéle noticed her brother looking nervous and sweating profusely. Yes, today was his disciplinary hearing. “Are you even listening?“ Simone asked. “Huh? What?” Michéle looked at her friend that was sitting across from her. “No, sorry what were you saying?” “Ugh, I was talking about the new movie that just came out!” Simone’s voice faded into the background as she scanned the whole school yard but her brother was nowhere to be found. Then she saw Joseph walking to the bathroom, even though it seemed normal something was odd about the way he walked nervously looking around. As soon as their eyes met she knew something was wrong. Before she could do anything the school bell rang. “Simone you can go first, I’ll be running a little late, okay?“ “What? Why?” “Just go.” She said and ran to the boys bathroom as the yard was getting emptied.
Her hand reached for the doorknob when the door suddenly opened with a mischievous laughing Joseph. His smile disappeared once he saw Michéle standing in front of him. “The hell do you want?” His gaze was filled with anger and disgust. Gosh, he really hated her. “Oh, did you wanna go in for a quickie?“ he smirked but was met only with Michéles confused face. “Is my brother in there?” She ignored his weird statement and tried to look past his shoulder before the door closed. The only thing she could see was a broom locking a door and few faint yells. Panic set on Michéles face as she put the pieces together. “Did you lock my brother in the toilet stall?!” She yelled and tried to push past him.
“Oh no, leave my brother alone!” He mocked her voice as he blocked her way into the boys bathroom. “Stop it! Both of you!” Michéle and Joseph looked at Mr Bellanger who would definitely not let Michéle in or get into the bathroom as well. “Have you lost your mind? Fighting like this on the school yard!” “But Uncle, my brother-“ “I will be seeing him in the teachers office for his disciplinary hearing. Don’t make this any harder for him, Michéle. His options aren’t looking too good right now.” Michéle looked at him, brows furrowed as she felt the guilt she tried to suppress resurfacing and swallowing her whole. Suddenly the three of them heard a commotion in the bathroom and then a loud yell. The door opened and an angry Jean-Pierre was met with three surprised faces.
“I’m so sorry, Mr Bellanger. I was.. locked in the bathroom stall by this idiot! My Jacket, it’s ruined!” He stated. “Am I late? Do we still have time?” Michéle had never seen her brother this distressed before. He was usually so put together calm and rational but now she was causing him trouble. “You can wear my jacket and you two better get to class right now!” Her uncle exclaimed as she made her way to the gymnasium with Joseph.
“You’re horrible!” She stated and gave him a dirty look which he did likewise. He suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed the girl by the arm, yanking her back to him. His finger pointed at his eye patch. “I’m horrible? Look at what your fucking brother did to my face!” He said, his tone angry but he didn’t yell. “All because of you.” He whispered. “You started it!” She yelled and tried to push him off of her. “I felt bad in the beginning but now I realise you completely deserved it!” She retorted which only made Joseph tighten his grip around her arm.
“Let her go!” A voice appeared behind the two of them. Michéle looked past Joseph’s shoulder and met eyes with Laubrac. A wave of relief washed over her as Joseph let go of her and she quickly made her way over to her classmat. “Well if it isn’t the foster kid and the deans niece.” Joseph smirked, putting his hands back into his pocket.
a/n: i’m really not sure if this was written okay and I hope you guys like the idea! I really wanted to ask you for ideas but I thought I couldn’t keep you guys waiting any longer. Im really open for any visions and stuff that you guys have just comment them or put on my ask thingy (I’m not even sure I have one tbh). Just bombard me with some ideas I’d really like that<3 i hope you guys liked this
tags: @ssnowville @
#movies#france#aesthetic#french#joseph descamps#mixte#mixte1963#vassili schneider#fanfic#x reader#joseph x reader#joseph descamps x reader#michéle#fiction#fantasy#alternative
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⁀➷ ┄─ ˑ IV . ☆ ──ㅤ Knee Socks
Joseph Descamps x reader
Chapter 4
Masterlist
Warnings: Smoking
┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐
“What’s going on between you and Descamps?” Simone asked me as we walked to school. The weather was worse than the last couple of weeks, clouds looming over and turning everything gray.
“What do you mean?”
“Some people saw you walking with him after school yesterday.”
“Oh right. I didn’t have an umbrella, so he let me use his. There’s nothing going on.” I reassured her.
“Good. Stay away from him, he’s bad news.” Michèle warned as we neared the school, pupils now flooding around us.
I didn’t respond to them, only focusing on not walking into someone. Simone was looking off towards Jean-Pierre, I guessed she was happy that he only got off with a warning, but there was something else in that look.
“Why are you looking at Jean-Pierre like that?” I whispered so Simone so Michèle wouldn’t hear.
“W-what?”
“You’re looking at him funny.”
“I’m not.” She stuttered out, a mix of happiness and concern on her face as she looked between me and the older boy.
“Do you like him?”
“Do I like him? I’ve barely spoke to him why would I like him!” She whispered.
“You compared him to Alain Delon the other day.”
“Yeah but… Just don’t tell anyone, please.” She turned to look at me, holding her pinky out.
“I wouldn’t do that to you.” I replied connecting our fingers.
“Thank you Y/N.” She smiled.
As we walked past Jean-Pierre and his friends, Simone kept turning around and smiling at him, Michèle completely oblivious.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The previous week we had been doing multiple, beginning of term tests. Revision for it took up most of my time, meaning I hadn’t been able to go out a lot, only rarely for errands.
“Laubrac, some progress. That’s 4.” The teacher said as he handed the marked tests back. Most of the class laughed at this, while some remained silent.
I averaged in most classes, earning between 12-15, which I was proud of considering I didn’t really pay attention in some of the classes.
Annick usually scored higher than everyone, as well as Felbec. They both always came top of the class. Descamps however, didn’t do as well, scoring around 7 or 8 on every test.
The teachers forgave him though, considering he had lost an eye and experienced trauma. The bandage was soon replaced with a brown eye patch, which suited him more.
The next class I zoned out in, watching as the rain dropped down the window and made a soft patting sound.
“You are all going to prepare a presentation, but in pairs.”
My head snapped towards the teacher at this. Presenting in front of a class, especially with boys in the room, is horrible.
“I’m going to be picking these pairs, because if you were to work with your friend, you will get nothing done.” The teacher says as he looks towards Descamps and Dupin, who just laughed in response.
“Every pair of students will then present their work to the class.” I internally groaned at this, anxiety already building up inside of me. The teacher then began listing names off of the register.
“Sabiani and Pichon?” This pair made the class laugh, especially the boys in the back corner of the room, knowing they were going to bully Pichon because of it.
“Hey look, Pichon’s blushing. He’s turned pink like a pig!”
“That’s enough, Dupin.” The teacher called, sounding fed up of them.
“Do we have to work together in pairs, sir?” Annick raised her hand, Pichon looking at her in sadness.
“That’s the whole point of this exercise, and most importantly, your pair’s average, will be your grade.”
He then continued to rattle off some more names. Michèle was partnered with a random boy, and Simone was partnered with Applebaum.
“L/N and Descamps?”
I internally groaned again at this, picking at my fingernails before slowly looking back at Descamps. He had a small smirk plastered on his face, looking at Dupin before turning to look at me.
I wasn’t happy to be working with Descamps, knowing I would probably be the only one getting work done. But I wasn’t disappointed either, this way I get to know him a bit more.
“How does that sound?” The teacher asked happily once he had partnered everyone up.
Nobody replied, some looking at their partner and smiling while others just faces the front, not amused.
The bell rang, and everyone scrambled to grab their things.
“I feel sorry for you Y/N, having to work with Descamps. Surely you can ask to change?” Simone said as we walked down the school stairs, heading for break.
“I’m sure it will be fine. He won’t do any work anyway, so I can do the presentation on whatever I want.” I smiled back.
“Yeah, I guess that’s an advantage.” Michèle shrugged as we went to sit down on the benches outside.
“Me and Simone are going to ask if we can work together. We don’t really feel comfortable working with a boy after what happened a couple of weeks ago.” Michèle said, fiddling with her hands on her lap.
“I don’t blame you, I don’t feel comfortable either but, it’s either Descamps or a random boy I don’t know.” I shrugged and they agreed with me.
Michèle starts talking, while Simone smiles, looking into the distance. I look in the direction she is, and Jean-Pierre is walking towards us, a book in his hand.
“Here, this is yours.” He says to Michèle, holding it out to her, “I put it in my bag by mistake.”
“Thanks.” The girl smiles.
“Bye then.” He walks away abruptly, Simone’s smile fading when he didn’t even glance at her.
“English isn’t the problem for me, it’s maths.” Michelè begins to rant, “I got three out of twenty on the last test.”
“Three out of twenty isn’t so bad.” Simone sighs, still looking at Jean-pierre. I nudge her slightly with my elbow, smiling.
“L/N. Can we talk?” A voice comes from behind. All three of us turn around at the same time. Descamps is stood there, not looking at the other two, just me.
“Uhm sure.” I say wearily, looking at the other two girls, who are just glaring the boy down. He starts to walk away, and I stand up to follow him, leaving my bag with the two girls.
Once we made it a fair distance from Simone and Michèle he turns to me, leaning his back against the wall that we walked towards.
“We’ll have to go to your place, for the project.” He says, not looking at me, just pulling a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket.
“Why mine?” I ask, pulling my cardigan closer to my body, the September air hitting me.
“Because we can’t go to mine.” He blows smoke, looking straight ahead.
“Why?”
“Because. We can’t go to mine.” He says more sternly this time.
“We can’t go to mine either.”
“Why not?” He turns to me.
“My brother, he doesn’t like it when I have boys in the house. My mother is the same.” I cross my arms over my chest and look up at him.
“What? What if you tell them it’s for a school project.”
“I don’t know how they’ll feel.” I shrug.
“Oh well. Meet me after school. We can go straight to yours.” He turns away to take another drag of his cigarette and blow the smoke away from me.
“Okay, by the school gates?”
“Yes.”
I nod at him awkwardly.
“Is there anything else you wanted to say, or is that it?” I ask him, tilting my head.
He hesitates for a moment, before mumbling that he had nothing else to say, and walks off towards his friends.
I stand there for a few seconds, watching him, before turning on my heel and walking back towards the two girls on the bench.
“What was that about?” They asked once I had sat down.
“Nothing, just the project.” I shook my head, still thinking about the interaction.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Like he said, Joseph was sat on a wall by the school gates, smoking again. As I approached him he turned to me and threw the cigarette away, stomping on it once he had came down from the wall.
“Sorry if you waited long, I was talking with Simone and Michèle.”
“It’s fine, had the chance to have a cigarette anyway.” He nodded, “Are we going?”
“Yeah.”
Everyone had left by now. The streets were silent except for the occasional rumble of a passing car.
“So, what did you want to do the project on?” I asked, turning to him as we walked up my street.
“Not sure, you can figure that out.” He replied, looking between his feet and the street ahead.
“Okay. Are you going to do anything in this project?”
“If you tell me to.” He replied, smirking at the ground.
“Descamps you have to do something, it can’t just be me that would be unfair.” I said when we approached my house.
“I will do something. I’ll be emotional support for you.”
“Oh, as if you know what emotional support is.” I laughed, opening the door, “Michael!”
My brother came out from the kitchen as we stood in the doorway.
“This is Descamps. We have to do a project for French.” I told him.
“Why are you with a boy?” He asked, chewing on an apple.
“We got paired up by the teacher.” I shuffled on my feet, gripping my bag tighter.
“Right, okay. Keep your door open and both of you don’t sit on the bed at the same time.” Michael replied, pointing his finger between us as he glared Descamps down.
“Yeah I know.” I sighed and walked past him, Descamps closing the front door and following.
“Door open!” My brother called as we walked up the stairs.
“I know!”
As I walked into my room, setting my bag down on a chair, taking my cardigan off and putting it on the back of the chair as well. Joseph stood in the doorway, looking around.
“What are you doing?” I asked, turning around to him and leaning my hand on my chair.
“You live here?”
“Yes…”
“You look like you do.” He said, taking his jacket off.
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” I took his jacket off of him and hung it on a hook with my cardigans.
“No.” He replied simply, turning around to slightly shut the door, leaving about a 4 inch gap.
“So,” He turned to me, “What do you want to do the project on?”
“Camus?”
“Sounds good.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
After about 15 minutes of me researching books and writing notes, Descamps finally spoke up.
“Why do you hang around with Michèle?” He said, leaning against the headboard of my bed.
“What?” I replied, sitting on the floor and leaning against the bed frame, open books scattered around me.
“I don’t get why you like her so much.”
“She’s my friend.”
“She’s an attention seeker. You don’t deserve to be around people like that.”
“She’s not an attention seeker.” I sigh, looking up at him and putting down the book I was holding.
“Did you see the way she was dressed on the first day.”
“It was a hot day. Anyway you could have ignored her but you decided to pour water all over her.”
“She’ll get over it.” He said, sitting up more and looking away from me.
I continue to look at him before picking up the book and going back to reading.
“He only got off with a warning.”
“Hm?” I hummed, not looking up from my book.
“Jean-Pierre. He only got off with a warning, while I’m stuck with an eye patch for the rest of my life.”
I turn around fully to face him, leaning my arm on the top of the bed by his legs.
“Yeah it’s not fair, I get that. You have every right to be mad at him. Besides, you look cool with an eye patch.”
“You think?” He turns to look at me, smiling and sitting up more.
“Yeah, it suits you.”
He laughs and gets up from the bed, moving a few books to the side to sit next to me on the floor.
“You should sit on the bed for a bit, the floor can get uncomfortable.”
“Won’t you be uncomfortable though?”
“No, I’ll be fine.” He shook his head and looks down at his lap.
“Thank you.” I say, putting my hand on his shoulder to pull myself up and going to lean against the wall, my legs now a few inches away from the back of his head.
“Is there anything I could do?” He says, turning around to look at me.
“Umm… I guess you could make a few notes on the context of L'etranger. I was going to do that next anyway.” I replied, sitting up and leaning down to pick up a book and give it to him.
He takes the book as I stand up. Walking over to my desk to get a pen and some paper for him, I feel his eyes following me. I smile slightly and turn around.
“Here.” I say, handing him the stuff.
“Thanks.” He takes them and opens the book.
I go to sit down next to him on the floor, picking up my own book and carrying on reading.
“Aren’t you going to sit on the bed?” He turned to me.
“I’m making sure you don’t mess the project up. It goes towards my grade as well.” I reply, leaning my head against my bed frame.
“R-right.” The boy says, maintaining eye contact with me but not saying anything else.
“Y/N?” I hear from down the corridor, my mother’s footsteps becoming louder, before she enters the room. “Your brother said you’re working on a project with a boy.”
“Y-yes. This is Joseph Descamps.” I say, sitting up straight.
Descamps stands up and goes to shake my mother’s hand, “Hello.”
“Are you staying for dinner?” She asks.
He turns to look at me questioningly, and I give him a nod.
“If that’s alright.” He looks back around.
“Yes that’s fine. It’s nice to know Y/N is actually making friends and she’s not just hauled up in her room like she always is.”
I feel my face turn red at this and rest my head against the palm of my hand. Joseph turns around laughing at me, putting his hands in his pockets as my mother walks away.
“I like her.” He carries on laughing as he goes to sit down next to me, closer this time.
My face goes even redder at the close distance between us, and I try to distract myself by reading.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“So, Joseph, have you lived here for a while?” My mother asks, trying to break the silence around the table while we eat.
“Yeah, my whole life, in two different houses though. The first one was just outside of the city, but now I live a few streets down from here.” He replies after swallowing a mouthful of carrots.
“That’s nice. I’m guessing you like it here then.”
“Yeah, sometimes.” He replies, before turning his head to me, asking me to say something so he could get a break.
“How was work?” I ask my mother.
“It was alright, a lot of customers at the shop.”
I nod, not knowing what to say next. My brother, sat across from Joseph doesn’t say anything, just eating his food and staring down the boy across from him, making the whole situation more awkward.
When we had finished eating, I took all of the plates to the kitchen, offering to help my mother clean up.
“Should I go pack away the books upstairs?” Joseph asks me.
“Yeah, thank you. I think we’ve done enough for today.” I smile, which he returns and starts making his way up the stairs.
I clean everything up for a few minutes before making my way upstairs. Descamps is sat down, stacking all of the books neatly at the foot of my bed.
“Thank you.” I smile at him.
He looks up at me standing over him before holding his hand out to me. I take it and pull him up.
“I should probably get going now, it’s getting dark.” He says, walking past me to my door and taking his coat off the hook.
“I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I have nothing better to do.” Walking to grab my cardigan, I notice it’s not in its usual place, placed on the seat of the chair instead of the back of it. Weird.
I put it on anyway and turn to Joseph, who’s stood watching me.
“C’mon.” He says, and walks out of my room. I smile at him behind his back.
Once we made our way downstairs we go to my mother.
“Thank you for the meal madam.” Descamps says as he sticks his hand out towards her.
“You’re welcome. You’ll have to come over again, I have a lot more questions to ask you.” She smiles, shaking his hand as he laughs.
“Let’s go before it’s dark.” I tell him, smiling at my mother as I gently grab the boys arm and walk towards the door.
We exchange goodbyes, and as soon as I close the door behind me I let out a sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m just tired.”
“Are you sure.” He says, stepping towards me.
“I’m sure. Let’s get going, it’s getting dark.”
“Want to get rid of me that easily?” He smiles.
“Yes.” I say sarcastically, laughing as we start to walk.
After a few minutes I notice we had gotten closer to each other, our shoulders almost touching. I look up at him, admiring his face underneath the golden street laps. Why is he so horrible to Michèle, but completely fine with me?
The boy turns to look at me, and I quickly look away, now focusing on my shoes as he laughs quietly to himself.
“This is my house.” He says and stops outside of a brown door. He turns to me, not saying anything.
“Oh, you don’t live that far away.”
He shakes his head, still looking at me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I start, not knowing what else to say.
“See you tomorrow.” He replies, smiling as he goes to open his door.
Quickly, I stand on my toes and kiss his cheek before quickly turning around and walking away, not wanting to see how he reacted.
After walking a few feet, I turn my head back, and he’s still stood there looking at me, hand on the doorknob, and a blush on his face.
I smile to myself and carry on walking home.
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
A/N: how on earth do i put a submission box on my profile i don’t know how to use tumblr 😭
#joseph descamps#joseph descamps x reader#mixte1963#x reader#reader insert#vassili schneider#fem reader#enemies to lovers
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I’m so desperate for Alain Laubrac fics that I’m about to look in quotev, it’s bad, someone please write for him 🙏🏻
#mixte1963#alain laubrac#joseph descamps#michele magnan#jean pierre magnan#france#joseph descamps x reader#x reader
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──⠀⠀⠀mixte 1963⠀!⠀
#𝘢𝘯𝘨3𝘭𝘪𝘬.#mixte 1963#voltaire high#joseph descamps#joseph descamps smut#joseph descamps x reader#joseph descamps imagine
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MIXTE1963 , — i recently watched it n im so surprised that this french serie were so good , as a french person i rlly appreciate it! i made some searches for helping people to more understand the serie , for having the historical/ political context , (also made this post for encouraging people to write abt it) i hope that Mixte 1963 became more famous and i’m so sad that there is literally no fandom , btw for the future i will make maybe fanfic, hcs idk if it’s interest people lol . ++ im soo sorry for my english, im french 😔
VOLTAIRE HIGH
the serie take place at St Jean d’Angely a little rural town near La Rochelle.
the 11 girls came in because there is no enough places at the others high schools, and the others school near Voltaire high are expensive.
*Annick explain that in the 1st episode to Miss Couret.. when they almost to be fired after the accident
Laubrac the foster kid
The public Assistance was created by the French State, consisted principally at the WW2 to help the families to give up their child by the fault of war context, financial problems, or death of the family…
this publication have more detailed informations
The reason why he is hated by some people is because the Assistance’s children are adopted, they don’t have their real parents/families they are considered as : «Batard » which mean a child with no family, at the 20th century’s and before that was a shame to be adopted or coming from The Public Assistance.
Simone the foreign girl
She is a pied noir and her family too , it mean that her family are french but moved to Alger ( capital of Algeria ) due probably to the french invasion or the Algeria war,
The pieds noirs were hated for multiple reasons but principally they were blamed for the Algeria war who caused the fall of the 4th Republic.
maybe i will add more things 🖤 hope u likes it
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Stuff i like
Anyone has some good stories without the smut? I don't care about the fandom
Whump :
[tw choking, manhandling, captivity, stockholm syndrome, masochistic whumpee]
Vampire x human whumpee (A centuries old vampire takes in a mortal bloodbag as a gift from his maker. )
some Stockholm
what's best
giving information
Two Weeks of Whump Masterpost
The Scry Masterlist
Clove Masterlist
The Scry
🩸 Kane & Jim Masterlist🩸
Blood catalase
----------------------------------------------------
old bones
The Promise
White moves first pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5
Bruises
----------------------------------------------------
JJK :
Yuuta x reader (basically yuuta is like a yandere but reader is okay with it, literally the best one I've read I LOVE IT)
Haunted (toji x reader)
synopsis in which satoru really needed to start reading the gc more often. solves a lot.
tell me about love (show me how) | gojo satoru
❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞
❝ PROF. GETO'S CLASS IS SO HARD, BUT HE'S SO HOT!! ❞. Pt.2
AURORA BOREALIS GREEN
Bad Habit (hitman!tōji fushiguro x reader | 17k) (this THIS 😻😻😻)
----------------------------------------------------
Hero, villain and stuff :
Protective ( villain x villain stuff, Supervillain swoops in to help them out of their misery )
Hero x villain (hero has wings and she's basically a monster)
Some romantic hero x villain 😏
Hero x medic
Bodily Responses
"I love you."
Hero got amnesia
Mutually Assured Destruction (DAAMAMMMNNNNN EVERYONE NEEDS TO READ IT)
Hero has amnesia from an injury Villain caused. Guilty, Villain took them in until their memory returns
A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find pt.2 pt.3 pt.4
Kidnapped by the Boss pt.6
First meeting (dork villain and hero)
Sweet dreams : pt.1 pt.10
----------------------------------------------------
Masterlists :
@treasuringizu masterlist
Watercolorfreckles masterlist
Masterlist of oddsconvert (whumpee stuff)
Masterlist of thepenultimatword
Jazz's Master List
Neptunsopening
arealphrooblem masterlist
im-a-wonderling's masterlist
treasuringizu's masterlist
----------------------------------------------------
Mixte1963 :
Joseph Descamps x Michel pt.2 pt.3 (it's on Ao3 ) A Mixte 1963/Voltaire High fanfiction about Michèle Magnan and Joseph Descamps
Joseph Descamps x reader
I don't know
----------------------------------------------------
BNHA :
Deku × reader (ok so deku is a pro hero famous and stuff but he's lonely and needs a partner, meets reader and decides to date her but reader is a thief. I won't die peacefully unless there's a pt 2)
Katsuki x reader (divorced, it's Christmas)
He hadn't meant to fall in love. (Katsuki x reader)
Shigaraki being touched starved
Love like a ghost (shigaraki x reader)
Yandere Vampire!Shoto x Human!reader
Touya x reader
vitality : pt.1
Accidental Boyfriend (tomura x reader)
----------------------------------------------------
Denji with a Codependent gf!
.
Some stuff I didn't read yet
Hmm1
Hmm2
"creature of myth."
#masterlist#joseph descamps#tomura x reader#shigaraki x reader#whump#villain x civilian#hero x villain
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If I don’t see more Joseph descamps x reader fics I’m actually gonna lose my mind 🤷🏽♀️ .
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Douzième Fille Masterlist
12th Girl Masterlist
××《☆》××
Joseph Descamps x Reader
You, as the 12th girl of Voltaire High, must face the new opportunities given by a school that is a mix of boys and girls. Handle your feelings towards a high school bully, make friendships that will last, and study hard enough to be accepted by society.
××《☆》××
===
Chapter one: Mary Jane's - Transferring schools after moving places for the 6th time, a new opportunity is given; a school for both boys and girls. With a new experience to be dealt with, will you survive a blooming rivalry with one of your classmates, a socialising society, and freshman year? Welcome to Voltaire High.
===
Chapter two: My eye only - After the incident, things take a turn for both better and worse. All with that, gym class has turned the school into a zoo. When people can't take their eyes off of what's yours, you take their ability to see. What an ironic thing for a one-eyed boy to set his mind to.
===
Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say - Having to be in pairs for a group project, two people with mixed feelings work together to create a presentation. Going into eachothers houses is easy until a certain cat wants to play cupid. Feelings erupt, and miscommunication has to be endured. A soccer game in the rain might prove that Descamps listens more than he should.
===
Chapter four: Flashy Magazines - Experimenting is bound to give you attention. Magazines are trending, and not just in the women's department. A one-eyed boy who has recently been caught with something vulgar has respect for women. How surprising.
===
Chapter five: You Know Where To Find Me, and I Know Where To Look - Callum returns, and Joseph is not so happy about it. A rainy night with forgotten gashes makes you think about a certain "friendship." Eavesdropping hurts a lot more than you thought.
===
Chapter six: Mischief Managed - A new task; Kidnap some frogs and a film to get an hour study session with the Annick Sabiani. Things are still unstable with Joseph. Maybe Callum could help. Your fear of hopping creatures makes a boy forget what went wrong.
===
Chapter seven: Salvatore - You can't deny beauty, so don't do it at all. Some time is spent at the beach with a boy you're trying to quietly reject. Begging, though pitying, looks good on our one-eyed boy.
#joseph descamps#joseph descamps x reader#mixte1963#michèle magnan#simone palladino#jean pierre magnan#alain laubrac#fanfic#x reader#reader insert#enemies to lovers#slow burn
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Douzième Fille
12th girl
××《☆》××
Having to be in pairs for a group project, two people with mixed feelings work together to create a presentation. Going into eachothers houses is easy until a certain cat wants to play cupid. Feelings erupt, and miscommunication has to be endured. A soccer game in the rain might prove that Descamps listens more than he should.
===
Joseph Descamps x Reader
Warnings: bullying (poor pichon), boys being boys, very confusing feelings, angst bcs of achilles and patroclus (maybe even joseph and reader???), miscommunication in the enemies to lovers department, swearing
This chapter has references to The Song of Achilles book (ik its not the right timeline, but we have to do this for the angst so bare w me)
===
===
Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say
===
The scores of our exams are being published. I sit in my seat, eyes scanning the numbers and fingertips smoothing out the paper. Most of them are in the ranges of 12-16, which is good enough for me.
"As you know, this is a school where we like to experiment with new methods. Next week, we are going to try a new approach." I look up from my papers, interested in the proposal of something new.
"You're going to prepare a presentation, working in pairs. You'll be working with the classmate sitting next to you, and then you'll present your work in class together. And for a sense of free will, you can present about any subject. How does that sound?"
I look to the girl next to me. Her name was Louise. She's quiet most of the time and keeps to herself. I smile softly. She smiles back.
The teacher clears his throat, eyes on Descamps and Dupin. "You two, of which I already expect a chaotic presentation, will be paired with someone else." His eyes land on me and Louise. Please, no.
"Descamps and Pardine, Louise and Dupin. Please remember your partner." I internally groan, placing my head into my hands. I look to my side, already seeing Louise and Dupin waving to each other, Louise giggling. I groan again. I don't look at Descamps. He doesn't, either.
Pichon raises his hand. "What if we're sitting alone?" The class laughs. I look at Pichon in pity.
"Well, you can work with Ms. Sabiani." The teacher says in response.
"Look. Pichon is blushing. He's turned pink like a pig." Dupin says, and the class laughs again. Even Louise giggles. She likes him, it's obvious, but what is there to like? I roll my eyes.
"That's enough, Dupin." The teacher shouts at him, the smile on his face gone. Annick raises her hand.
"Do we really have to work in pairs?" She asks.
"That's the whole point." He answers. "And I'm warning you, half a pair's work will result in half the grade."
××《☆》××
As I walk down the stairs, I look up when I hear pigs oinking. I wasn't wrong. Descamps' group of friends are pigs.
When I spot Simone and Michèle in the bench under the tree, our usual spot, I make my way to them.
"Help me gain some decency to go up to Descamps and not punch him in the face." I groan as I sit on the bench with them.
"It's unfortunate for you. Our teacher could've picked anyone else." Michèle says, pity in her voice.
"Should I go talk to him now or later?" They don't answer because they see Descamps make his way towards us.
I fight the urge to start an argument with him. About anything, really. Just to get him to stay a bit longer. I clear my throat at the thought.
"Your place?" He says, now standing infront of us, hands in his pockets. I nod once, and he walks away.
"Thank god that was over quick." Something deep inside me knew I didn't mean that.
Jean Pierre walks towards us with a book in hand. I look at Simone with a teasing smile, but there's something in her eyes I can't really tell. Like she knows something.
"Here, this is yours." He hands Michèle the book. "I put it in my bag by mistake." Michèle thanks him. He walks away with a 'see you later'.
Michèle continues to complain to us about her grades. Simone sighs, mind floating away. I look at her confused. I'll ask her about it later.
I look towards Applebaum. We make eye contact, and I smile. He looks away, fear in his eyes. What's up with everyone today?
××《☆》××
In one of those rare moments, my parents are home for dinner. We sit in the dining table, enjoying our food.
"Someone's coming over tomorrow. I know you won't be here, but I thought it'd be better if you knew." I tell them, handing small bits of food to George.
"Oh? What will you be doing?" My father asks, cutting his food into smaller pieces.
"Group project. We'll probably just stay in my room." I pet George as he eats his food.
"Are we going to meet her even after the project?" My mother says, looking up from her food.
"He, actually. And no." This makes them pause, silence surronding the room. My father clears his throat.
"A boy? And both of you will be in your room?" He says, placing his elbows on the table.
I take time to process this. "Papa, no. It's not like that." I turn red in my seat. "Trust me, it's just a project. Nothing else."
"Of course we trust you. It's just, you know. You're a teen, and teens go through... stuff." My mother says, stuttering a bit. I cover my face with my hands.
"Mama, please don't make it weird." I groan.
"No, it's perfectly normal for your age. If you want, we can forget about it-" I cut her off.
"Yes, please. Forget about it." I cut my food aggressively, face as warm as my plate.
We stay quiet as we finish the rest of our dinner.
××《☆》××
"The league of nations, L.O.N..." I fade the rest of the discussion out, watching the way the sun rests on the trees leaves, the birds tending to themselves. Last nights conversation clouds my mind, and I catch myself smiling for no reason.
I sigh every time, biting my lip in my own embarrassment. I glance at Descamps. He's focusing on the lesson for once. Nothing will happen at my place, right?
He feels my gaze on him and gently turns his head. His eye meets mine, and there's a small quirk on the corner of his lip.
"Quiet at the back." Ms. Giraud calls out suddenly.
Descamps looks away. I purse my lips, something stirring in my chest. My breathing is faster, and I feel warmer. Have I gotten sick already?
Annick walks into the room, hair tousled and frizzy. Ms. Giraud shouts at her, and my ear drums are about to explode.
Ms. Giraud gives Annick detention, and with every word Annick said back, an hour or two more.
Ms. Giraud continues to piss me off every second of the day with her strictness and very clear jealousy towards Annick. She finally continues the discussion, and I (annoyingly) decide to finally listen.
××《☆》××
I wait right outside the gate for Descamps. He comes running to the gate but slows down when he sees me, acting like he wasn't just leaping to get here.
"Hey." He says, acting nonchalant. He even has his hand in his pocket.
"Hi. Let's get going." I keep my face blank as I lead the way to my place. We walk in silence, listening to our footsteps next to each other.
Once we make it to my flat's building, I go up the steps, stopping in front of my door and unlocking it.
We step inside, the flat looking warm with the sunlight entering through the windows. I lock my door and drop the keys on my kitchen counter.
"Your coat?" I reach my hands out. He throws his coat to me, the heaviness of it making me stumble. I scowl but hang it anyway.
"Head to my room. Down the hallway to the right." I say as I grab a few supplies from my father's office.
"Want me in your bed already?" He calls out once he's inside. I hear a yelp.
I run to my room. "Descamps, are you okay?" I ask worriedly. He stares at George.
"What is that?" He points to George, who's currently walking toward me. I bend down and pet him, planting a kiss on his head.
"This is George." I carry George and craddle him like a baby. I walk towards Descamps with the furball in my arms. I rock him slowly.
"You can touch him if you want. He doesn't bite." I smile at the orange cat, then look up at Descamps. He's staring at me with the most soft look I've seen him wear. My heart thumps in my chest.
He clears his throat, hand going up shakily to pet George. George purrs when Descamps pets him. There's now a smile on Descamps face, as warm as his stare.
I bite my lip at the proximity. I memorise as much as I can about him.
The way he was breathing, like he was on a bed so soft he could sink into it. The way he smelt like faded cigarette smoke and expensive cologne. The way his bones moved under his skin as he bent over to take a closer look at George. The number of times he's blinked, the number of times he's laughed under his breath.
I dive deeper into my trance as he looks up at me. The way he stared now is so different from the way he did all those times before. Like we knew something that we haven't acknowledged yet. Or chose not to.
Something falls in the kitchen, and we snap back to reality. My face warms up, the lighting from the windows making it clearer.
Descamps walks away from me, clearing his throat again. "The cat's ugly." This makes me snap my head to his direction.
"What did you just say?" My brows furrow, defensive of the cat sleeping in my arms.
He rolls his eye. "Nothing. Let's get the project started, I guess." I glare at him for a couple more seconds, then I gently place George down on the bed, excusing myself to get more stuff from my father's office.
When I'm halfway to my room, I hear whispering. I peek at the slit on my door, wondering what was happening behind it.
Descamps is petting George, whispering words as if he's hushing a baby to sleep.
My aura softens, and my heart bursts with admiration. I accidentally drop something and curse to myself. Descamps hears the thud on the floor and pushes himself away from George. George continues to sleep.
I open the door then close it gently. "Let's get started."
××《☆》××
"Do you have suggestions?" I ask Descamps. He doesn't answer, his head turned to the side. I sigh.
Before I could say anything, he talks. "What's that?" He nods to the book on my shelf. It was a copy of the story of Achilles and Patroclus, with a notebook strapped on the front.
"It's nothing important." I shake my head. He purses his lips in thought.
"Can I see it?" His question catches me off guard, his head finally turning to look at me. No one's ever showed interest in my books or notes. I stay quiet, then after a while, I nod.
He gets up from the bed and grabs the book. He takes the string that attaches the notebook to the copy off. He scans the back of the book and hums.
"We can base the project off of this, if you don't mind." He holds up the paperback and the notebook. I'm stunned in my place.
"It's really not that interesting-"
"It must be if you had a whole notebook dedicated to it." There isn't even a teasing tone when he said that. He meant it genuinely.
"Fine." I sigh, grabbing the notebook from his grasp.
"Good." "Great." "Amazing." "Piss off." "Whatever."
"Mind if you read it to me?" He says. "I have a feeling I'll understand better when you say it, since it's your work."
I nod, hesitantly. I opened the first page of my notebook. Most of the stuff I've written in it is a summary and a review of the book.
He leans back on my pillows. I let him. I started to read.
"Patroclus was a young prince, exiled from his kingdom for accidentally killing a boy, and was taken in by their neighbouring king, King Peleus."
George purrs as I pet him. I shift to a more comfortable sitting position. Descamps' eyes are on me.
"When Patroclus first saw Achilles, it was in a competition run by Patroclus' father. He described Achilles as if he was looking at a painting made with precision and grace." I flip the page. George walks over to Descamps' lap. I huff, ignoring it.
"When they met and officially talked, Patroclus thought he'd hated Achilles. Achilles and his beauty, his speed, his perfection. In the years that pass, they grow to be attached to the other." George meows. The meow that indicates he wants petting.
I pause my reading, and Descamps looks at me confused. "Why'd you stop?"
"George wants pets." Descamps makes an 'oh' sound and pets George. He meows again.
"Maybe he wants you." Descamps says, petting the fur baby on his lap. I sigh and lean in close to pet George. With the uncomfortable position, I shift to sit beside Descamps on the bed. I clear my throat and pet George. I continue to read.
"They knew everything about each other. What they'd prefer, like how I like the rain too much to cover it with an umbrella, but know I'll get sick without it. That's how the two worked. They knew every detail, every routine, every habit, every movement. A love you'd have to fight the gods for."
A page is flipped, smoothing out of paper echoes in the room.
"Achilles and Patroclus loved each other with every inch of their heart and soul. Quoting the book, Patroclus states, 'He is half my soul, as the poets say'. Along with the famous paragraph." My eyes switch to the next page.
Descamps shifts in his place, leaning back on the pillows, looking at the pages where I'm reading off of. I start to relax, leaning back, too. George purrs.
"I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."
I take a glance at Descamps, and he's already looking at me. George snores in his sleep, making the aura of the room warmer. More comfortable.
His eye dropped to my lips, and I could've sworn I was hearing a heartbeat as fast as the wind at fall. I glance at his, pink and soft, like a cushion ready for rest.
When we lean in, slowly, too slow, my heart drops as he pulls away and stretches. I furrow my eyebrows, a dread of realisation. He's been toying with me. I close my notebook and gather my things.
"Where are you off to?" He asks. I don't answer him.
"Hey," He grabs my arm. I take it back from him. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing." I say coldly. "I'll finish this project myself."
"What? No. This is a group project remember?"
"I can't keep doing this. You're too hard to work with." I stack the books and materials in my arms.
"We haven't even gotten anything done yet." He flops his hands in the air.
"Exactly. You're too distracting."
"What did I do? I've been quiet the whole time."
"Yeah, well, that's the problem. You're too quiet. You aren't suggesting things."
"What does that have to do with anything?" He raises his voice.
"Just shut up, okay? Just leave. I told you I'll finish the project by myself." I get up from the bed, heading to my father's office.
"But I don't get why you're suddenly mad!" He stands up, following me.
"You don't have to know. Just leave me alone, okay?"
"Fucking fine. You're being too stubborn anyways. Do all the work. Getting pissed off for no fucking reason." He grabs his coat from the rack, putting it on. He doesn't even glance at me, opening and shutting the door with a loud slam.
I even out my breathing. It was going fine. Then I think to myself, what was? Me and Descamps, going fine? I laugh at the thought. I hated that boy. I hated him with my whole heart. My mind travels to the notes I was just reading.
Patroclus had thought he hated Achilles in the start, too. I shake the thought out of my head, slipping against the wall to sit on the floor, knees to my chest.
I hear tapping on the floor boards. I look to my side to see George, meowing softly. I take a deep breath in, then reach my hand out to pet him.
I hate him. And I know I do. He lingers in my mind like a fog in the mountains. The way his aura had softened, his smile, his warmth. I hated the thought of him, but then he smiled, and like Achilles, his face was like the sun.
××《☆》××
Night comes, and I lay in my bed, windows slightly open for the wind to come through. I'm restless, not getting a blink of sleep. I'm halfway through the project already. If Descamps had helped, it'd take longer, I think to myself, trying to still feel angry.
I don't feel angry at all anymore. There's a sort of regret in me for pushing him away. But at the same time, it's what he deserved. We had leaned in, and I didn't even know what I was expecting. I should've expected him to pull away, but what was he going to do in the first place?
Was he going to whisper in my ear? If so, what would he whisper to me? Was he going to say something about how I write, how I speak? A thought so blurry pops up in my head, and I brush it off. But it felt warm, so safe, so soft. There was a scent stuck in my head as I reminisced on the thought, trying to figure out what I was thinking.
I fall asleep in the process, dreaming about the thought instead. Limbs touching, bending, adjusting. I taste cigarettes and strawberries. I smell smoke and expensive perfume. I feel something soft against my lips, hands cupping my face, my neck, my head, and my waist.
He felt warm, tall, and heavy against me. I hold onto the dream, relaxing.
××《☆》××
I wake up, sweat coating my skin. George sits on the window sill, the sun making him shine like gold. I sit up and stretch. I get off my bed and head to my bathroom.
My hair is messy, and I have a bit of dried drool on the corner of my mouth. I wash my face to give myself some energy. I take my clothes off lazily, tying my hair up and getting inside my shower.
Once I finish, I comb and fix my hair, head to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, grab my things for school, including the unfinished project, and head to the front door.
A stack of paper tied with string greets me. I furrow my eyebrows. There's no note. I squat down and pick it up. I instantly know who it's from.
It's an essay about Achilles and Patroclus, detailed and opinionated. Written on the last piece of paper, sitting at the bottom of the stack, it reads, "I bought a copy. Finished it for you."
I stood still, processing the words, flipping through the papers to double check if they're authentic. I let out a scoff of surprise. My head snaps to a nearby clock. I'm going to be late if I don't start walking now.
My feet carry me to the front gates of Voltaire, the familiar faces and light chatter calming me. I spot Simone and Michèle, and I make my way to them.
××《☆》××
Rain starts to fall. The rain always brought me comfort. The different sounds it made when hitting different objects, the way it sways with the wind, the smell it gives the grass after.
I lag behind Simone and Michèle as they make their way to the field. I look for my satchel, then remember I'd forgotten my umbrella. I curse to myself, finding the satchel. It felt heavier than usual. I look inside, then see a clear umbrella. I open it and twist it around, gaping in awe. There's a note in the bag. I open to read it.
"Don't get sick from what you love." The note said.
There's only one person I've told about my love for rain.
I head outside, hiding my red face once I see a drenched one-eyed boy. I smile to Simone and Michèle, spotting them seated on a bench. I glance behind me as I sit down, finding an eye already looking at me with a small smile. His smile drops, and he looks away when I catch him. I purse my lips.
We watch the match, getting my mind off of the boy with ash brown hair. Once the match finishes, we all make our way home. I look up, seeing the rain pattering against the clear umbrella. I smile, watching the water droplets slip off the plastic, hearing the pattering of rain.
××《☆》××
The next day, I repeat my routine. I thoroughly read through Descamps' essay, rewritting it to fit in with mine. I should be thankful, and I am, but Descamps is making my head hurt with the way he acts. I walked to school, going subject after subject, until our presentation finally came.
Earlier, I'd slipped him the script, tucking it in his bag. I hope silently that he's memorised it.
Annick and Pichon are presenting in front of the class. I smiled softly, impressed by the presentation, and refreshed with the dynamic of the two. If only things had gone differently with Descamps, we could've been good friends. But we aren't. I don't think we ever will.
Once they finish, our teacher calls me and Descamps to the front. My anxiousness radiates off my body. Simone and Michèle give me a reassuring look. I nod at them slightly.
My eyes meet Descamps, and we're standing at the front of the class. They're quiet, and my eyes scan all of them. Surprisingly, Descamps starts.
"Me and Pardine are going to present the story of Achilles and Patroclus and the debate of their relationship; romantic or platonic?" Descamps looks at me, his hand hovering at the small of my back for support.
I start, and faster than I thought, I finish the presentation. The room claps, as they do with the others. I glance at Descamps but see him already walking back to his seat. My smile dropped slowly, remembering I was still on his bad side, and vice versa.
I walk back to my seat quietly. I don't even hear the score because my mind is too occupied with the thought of him. Would we stay angry at eachother always? At the same time, it shouldn't matter. I hate him. Right?
I shake my head. I hate him, surely. I should. I dig deep in my head for a reason. Bullying Pichon and Michèle, toying with my feelings (feelings I'm not aware whether it's good or bad), the way he acts, and smells, and feels when he's near.
I fucking hate him. I really do. I hate him, I repeat in my head. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
Then, like earlier, something inside me knows I don't mean it.
At the end of the day, I make peace with solitude. My mind wanders, and I notice that every time it does, they always end up with the face of a one-eyed boy.
Sure, Descamps gave me a finished essay for our project, and sure, he gave me an umbrella that was clear so I could see the rain. So what? I still hate him. Maybe just a little less now.
××《☆》××
End- Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say.
Next- Chapter four: Flashy Magazines
××《☆》××
End of chapter three. Rollercoaster of emotions this one. It's a bit shorter than usual because i took out a bunch of the scenes in the series to focus on the emotions of reader and hopefully u guys get what im trying to give. Thanks for reading, requests r open, and see u next chapter!!!
#joseph descamps x reader#joseph descamps#mixte1963#michèle magnan#simone palladino#jean pierre magnan#alain laubrac#enemies to lovers#fanfic#reader insert#slow burn#x reader
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Douzième Fille
12th girl
××《☆》××
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Transferring schools after moving places for the 6th time, a new opportunity is given; a school for both boys and girls. With a new experience to be dealt with, will you survive a blooming rivalry with one of your classmates, a socialising society, and freshman year? Welcome to Voltaire High.
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Joseph Descamps x Reader
Warnings: Teen boys being teen boys (ykwim), swearing, violence
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Chapter one: Mary Jane's
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I polish my newly bought Mary Jane's, the last on my to-do list before heading to my new school. After I put them on, I get up to go in front of the mirror and fix my hair. I sigh deeply.
A new school, I think to myself. Again.
I grab my satchel and coat, put both on, and make my way outside.
I recently moved here, coming from Paris. I felt disappointed when we moved, feeling a part of me still in that city, but I knew I shouldn't feel that way. I should've expected it. It's now the sixth time we've moved places.
I live in a flat now with my parents and my cat, George, named after the member of The Beatles. My parents are both always at work, leaving me, most of the time, home alone.
I trip on a crack on the sidewalk, making me fall forward and almost hit a girl. She looks my age, has braided blonde hair and fluffy bangs. She just came out of the butcher's with a man. The man is very handsome, tall, neat, wearing a nicely tailored suit. He has a serious expression on his face.
He only glances at me before turning and ushering the blonde girl to follow him. She looks at me for a while more before turning and following the man.
I compose myself, feeling flustered, and I quickly brush it off. I continue to walk. In front of me, I noticed the two people I saw only a few seconds ago. The man walks off, and the girl stands still in her place. I purse my lips, wondering if I should come up to her. I did.
"Is that your father? He seems strict, but I'm only basing off my experience." I say as I stand next to her. She looks at me, a bit surprised. I wouldn't blame her.
"No. He's my brother. He's strict, yes. And it's very annoying." She furrows her brows a bit and groans. I chuckle.
"I'm Y/N. Where are you headed?" I put my hand out for her to shake.
"I'm Michèle. I'm headed to school, actually." She shakes my hand and smiles.
"Oh? Which school? I might be going to the same one."
"Voltaire. I hope you are. Otherwise, I'd be walking in, not knowing anyone but my brother." She cringes at the thought. I chuckle again. She's funny.
"Good thing I'm going there, too. Let's get going, yes? We don't want to draw any more attention." I tilt my head to the direction of the school. She nods.
I lead the way, her following only a few steps behind. The gates are wide open, and my stomach drops. First day of school jitters. The worst feeling ever. And there's boys everywhere. My stomach drops further.
I slow down my pace to be walking next to Michèle. My anxiety radiates off of me, and with my suddenly hightened senses, I feel Michèle's anxiety, too.
We walk past the gates, and all eyes are on us. My spine feels shivers. It's suddenly quiet. I keep my head held high to not give off an awkward stance. Michèle does the opposite.
Every step we take feels slower than usual. I hear whispers around the campus.
'There they are', 'She's pretty', 'Go talk to her!', 'They do have tits', 'Nice ass', 'They're not supposed to be here'.
My ear twitches, but I don't show a reaction on my face. I notice three boys on the bench, but one catches my eye.
He has sandy hair, wire framed glasses, and is sitting with both arms on the back of the backrest. Before I looked away, I saw a faint smirk on his lips.
We head to the board for our assigned rooms. Me and Michèle sigh in relief as we see our names listed to the same teacher.
I feel movement behind me, but before I could turn, a girl pops up next to us. She had short bobbed hair with a blue clip, bright eyes, and a wide smile.
"There aren't even twenty of us." She states. I smile softly. I hear Michèle sigh in joy.
"We thought we were the only girls." She points to the both of us, and I nod along.
"I waited for both of you to come in." A small laugh comes out from all of us. "I'm Simone."
"Michèle." She responds. They wait for me to respond.
"Y/N." I say, and Simone's face lights up. We pause for a while until Simone cuts the silence off.
"It feels like everyone's staring." She says worriedly but still with a smile on her face.
"They are." Me and Michèle say. The girls continue to talk as I look behind me again and see the sandy haired boy talking, or what looks like teasing, another boy. I think to myself, a bully. I grimace. I look away before he notices me staring.
"Are you wearing heels?" All of us look down to stare in awe at Michèle's foot wear.
"I didn't take you as a bold girl, Michèle." I joke, scoffing in amusement.
"My mom didn't say anything. Hopefully, the teachers don't say anything, too." We all laugh, nodding.
"Oh, Y/N. Look at yours. They look new." I look down at my Mary Jane's, smiling to myself.
"Yeah, they are. My parents got them as a moving gift." Simone nods, but Michèle looks confused.
"Moving gift?" She asks.
"They're gifts I receive when we move places. It's sort of a token of appreciation for being understanding from my parents." They both nod.
"Have you talked to the other girls?" Simone asks, glancing at them. As we all glanced behind, I noticed the boy that was being teased walk to our direction.
"Three were in my electives class, but we're not friends." I transfer my eyes to the group of girls. We look back at each other. Michèle looks to Simone. "Did you go to a Catholic school?"
"No, I was from Algiers. I got here a month ago. I don't know anyone." Simone smiles innocently. Their gazes shift to me. "What about you, Y/N? Are you old or new?"
"I'm new. I moved from Paris." I smile a bit sadly.
"Wow, Paris? I've always wanted to see the tower. Is it bigger than they say?" They start to ask me questions, and I answer happily. I cut them off once the boy I noticed walks closer.
"There's a boy coming. Stand still." They quickly shut up and look back at the board. I hold in a laugh.
"Oh no." The boy says, disappointed.
"Something wrong?" Michèle asks, curious by the boys' exclamation.
"My homeroom teacher is Bluebeard." He responds, now looking at us.
Me, Michèle, and Simone look at each other, confused.
Just then, a new girl walks in. She's wearing a blue dress and headband, her blonde hair swaying in the wind. She sticks out like a diamond in the rough. Boys exclaim, making the same comments they did when me and Michèle walked in, but more vulgar. Distaste has masked my face.
"Do you know her?" God bless Michèle's innocent soul. The boy shakes his head.
The bell rings, and I hear a series of groans. I sigh. The day has officially started.
××《☆》××
I make the lecture fade out of my ears, staring at the stage with no thought in my head. I feel a stare on my left
I turn my head and am met with eyes staring dead straight into mine. The glasses cover the way he'slooking at me, so i can't read how he's feeling, but his eyes are dark and hooded.
I look away slowly, a bit creeped out.
××《☆》××
I stare out the window, watching the trees sway in the breeze and the birds chirp, flapping their wings.
I snap back to reality when Ms. Giraud changes the seating arrangement of the boy we talked to earlier.
The boy with the sandy hair whispers something to him and makes him trip. The class laughs. I stare quietly and think, what an asshole.
"And you, girl with the Mary Jane's. What's your name?" Ms. Giraud says, but it feels like she's screaming. I stand up.
"Y/N Pardine." I respond. I feel the class's eyes on me. A certain pair of glasses covered ones make me shiver.
"Ms. Pardine, what's outside the window that's caught your attention?" I stare at her, a bit annoyed.
"Nothing, Ms. Giraud. I'm sorry I got distracted." There's a voice in my head saying fuck you.
She nods. Thank god. "Sit down. See class? That's how you should respond to your teacher." The lecture fades again as I stare off into space at my desk.
××《☆》××
I learned a few names after class. First, the blue dress girls' name is Annick, then the boy who always gets teased is Pichon, and last and very much the least, Joseph Descamps, the boy with the sandy hair.
××《☆》××
As we walk to our next class, someone bumps into my shoulder harshly. I look in front of me and see Descamps running with his friends. A teacher shouts something like 'no running in the halls'. I glare at his back, and he turns around, and he's smiling. Maybe it was because he was laughing, or maybe he was smiling at me. I stick to the first one and glare harder.
××《☆》××
We sit with the same arrangement as the last class. I tap my Mary Jane's on the hardwood floor and admire the way it shines with the sunlight hitting it.
"Excuse me, sir." I hear someone say. I turn my head and see both Descamps and Annick raising their hand.
"Yes?" The teacher asked. Descamps glances at me, and I furrow my brows. He smirks and looks away.
"I think she raised her hand." He states. I breathe out through my nose, a silent laugh. He's smiling again. Is he always this happy?
The teacher gives Annick a side look. Confusion covers my face. Does he think the girls aren't supposed to be here, too?
He lets her talk, and she does. She explains the meaning of the words written on the board. I look at her, impressed. She's pretty and smart. Good for her.
I see Michèle look to her left. I look, too. The boys pass notes and whisper incoherently. I keep a close eye on them. They pass the note to one boy, Laubrac, who looks like he doesn't know what to do with it.
"Give me that." The teacher states. "Give it to me."
Laubrac gets up, moving to the front of the classroom. The teacher opens up the note, then looks back at Laubrac.
"You think this is funny?" The teacher holds up the note.
"It wasn't me." Laubrac says in defence, but with a calm tone.
"Who is responsible for this masterpiece?" The teacher waves the paper in the air.
I turn my head back to the boys in the back. Descamps is chewing on the tip of his pen, acting like he doesn't know anything. His blinks under his glasses, and I squint. His hazel eyes connect with mine, and I look away swiftly.
"Your name?" The teacher asks as he folds the note.
"It wasn't me." Laubrac states again.
"'It wasn't me'. All culprits have the same name. They must be related. Okay, Mr. It wasn't me-"
"Laubrac. My name is Laubrac."
The teacher pauses. "Alright, Laubrac. Are you the boy from foster care? A nobody's son trying to graduate? How amusing." Gasps are heard.
"Didn't anyone teach you discipline in the care system?" He didn't wait for Laubrac to respond. "I won't let a bastard like you disrupt my class. Get out."
"But he didn't do anything." Michèle gets up from her seat to exclaim. I stare at her in shock.
"Nobody taught you how to raise your hand in your all girls' school, Ms. Magnan? Or maybe you think you have a free pass because your uncle is the dean." This teacher is getting on my nerves. I glance at him with squinted eyes.
"Escort your new friend to your uncle's office. He'll give you detention, too." He points to the door. Michèle and Laubrac start walking. I stare at her worriedly. I lean over the desk to talk to Simone.
"Is she gonna be okay?" I ask her. She turns to look at me with creased eyebrows.
"I think so. Her uncle's the dean, after all." I nod and sit back down.
I glance behind me and catch framed hazel eyes staring. He looks away quickly. I stare back to the front.
××《☆》××
Me and Michèle are walking outside when we hear a man call out her name. Before we could turn, he grabs her arm and leads her to the side of the building. I stood in my place, waiting for her instead of going with when I noticed it was just her brother. I walk to lean against the building, gathering my surroundings. I hear pebbles being stepped on and think nothing of it, assuming it was Simone. It wasn't.
"Good morning." I turn my head, smiling, then drop it when I'm met with a chest. I tilt my head upward, and the sunlight hits my eyes. There's a smile on his face still.
"Why are you alone? Where's your friend?" Descamps interrogates. I stare blankly.
"It doesn't matter to you." I turn my head again. I feel him adjust, putting an arm against the wall of the building.
"I know it shouldn't. But seeing a pretty girl like you all alone worries me. I can't let the other boys get to you before I could." He lowers his voice, dropping his head to reach my height.
I look back up at him. I raise my eyebrows. "How many girls have you used that on?"
He laughs. He's laughing. Why is he laughing?
"You're witty. I like that." I roll my eyes at his words. I notice Michèle in the middle of the grounds with Simone, and I sigh in relief. I walk away from Descamps and sprint to them, trying to keep myself composed.
As I get to them, Simone is running towards the bathroom. I catch my breath and shout.
"Simone, that's not-" Simone squeals as she runs back to us. She's laughing. I smile widely, amused.
"It was the boys' bathroom. I just saw-" We start walking but stop as a boy calls out 'What was that!?'.
"Sorry!" Simone repeats, and we all laugh.
××《☆》××
We all sit and talk in the lunch hall. I look out the window, barely touching my food.
Loud clattering catches my attention. I turn my head and see Pichon's hands in Annick's food. I grimace. There are boys laughing in the background. Pichon says a quick sorry to Annick and walks away, clearly embarrassed. Someone asks Annick if she wants a new plate.
"That idiot should give her his." Michèle says, partially mad. I glance to the boy, and it's Descamps. Of course it is. A series of ooh's are heard in the room. Descamps glances at me, then puts his eyes on Michèle again.
"Does the dean's niece have a problem?" He puts his arm on the backrest of his seat, and the other arm leaning on the table. "What did you tell your uncle? 'Laubrac is innocent. Descamps is the bad one'. The dean's niece and the bastard. A new love story." The hall laughs. I glare at him.
"Why don't you tell us what you wrote on that note?" Michèle bites back.
"It was a drawing. I'll show you." Descamps says calmly. He grabs a bottle and starts drawing on his scrambled eggs. I furrow my brows, already knowing what was gonna happen.
"It's a portrait." He holds up his plate, and his eggs now display a woman's bare chest. I scrunch my nose in digust. The hall laughs yet again. Words come piling out my mouth before I know it.
"It's too bad you'll only ever see them in pictures, not in real life. Women would never fawn over that small dick of yours." I say, and the hall erupts with impressed sounds. He raises his eyebrows. Simone holds up a sausage.
"Does this remind you of anything?" She grabs the other end of the sausage and breaks it in half. I laugh. The hall ooh's again. They start banging on the tables, and it catches a teachers attention.
Descamps glances back at us and glares at Michèle. His eyes travel to mine, and a spark of mischief flashes in his framed eyes. My brows crease.
××《☆》××
The bell rings, and students walk into their classrooms. Me, Michèle, and Simone are walking to our class.
I stare out the windows, seeing the busy streets of the afternoon. The girls are talking about a man named 'Alain Delon' when Michèle opens the door and a tub of water drops on her. I gasp.
The boys are laughing. I look at Michèle in worry. I tried to look for something to cover her up, but our teacher came first. She looks at Michèle, then looks at the room full of boys. She gets rid of her coat and tells someone to keep an eye on the class.
I walk inside, standing in shock near my table at the back at what happened. When I came back to my senses, Descamps was drawing boobs on the board, saying some things I couldn't hear with my unfocused mind.
Before I could walk over to him and give him a beating, Michèle's brother, Jean Pierre, walks into the classroom and starts punching the boys.
The others try to stop him, but he keeps punching. I stare at the scene, unable to do anything.
Descamps's eyes move from the fight to me, and I see emotions flashing in them. Worry, stress, fear, and regret. His eyes continue to stay on me when he gets punched. I cover my mouth in shock. I run near.
I pick up his glasses, and there's a crack on one of the frames. My heart drops when I hear whimpering.
I turn around and see Descamps on the floor, hand cupping his eye. I hadn't noticed the dean until he was kneeling next to him.
"My eye! I can't see." Tears well up. I feel thundering emotions.
My ears ring, and I blur everything out. I can still hear him whimpering. My eyes travel around his shaking body, my heart is beating out of my chest, and I feel like falling.
"Pardine. Take him to the office and call an ambulance." The dean tells me, and I snap back into reality. I quickly go to Descamps and grab his shoulders, ushering him to stand. There's blood seeping out of his fingers. I try not to sob.
He probably thought I was the nurse because he leans into me and relaxes a bit. I sigh shakily. I rub his back with my palm and guide him to the office.
××《☆》××
The ambulance was called, and he was taken to the hospital. I sit on the stairs, watching the ambulance drive away. I sigh deeply and place my head on my hands. I breathe in and out slowly, trying to calm myself.
Why did I help? He's bullied my classmates, especially Pichon and Michèle. I furrow my eyebrows. Fuck.
××《☆》××
I knock on the door, and I'm granted to come in. I quickly grab my things, ignoring the teachers questions. Michèle and Simone lean over to me. Simone talks first.
"Are you okay?" She asks worriedly. I shake my head no.
"I don't feel well. I think I'm gonna take the rest of the day off." Simone nods, understanding. Michèle looks confused but brushes it off.
"Okay. Get home safe. We'll see you tomorrow?" Michèle asks. I nod.
"Sure. See you tomorrow." I leave the room and head to the dean's office, asking for an excuse slip.
××《☆》××
As I lie on my bed petting George, I recall the events. Meeting the girls, talking to Descamps, Descamps embarrassing Michèle, witnessing Descamps go blind, calling the hospital for him. I sigh again. That boy will be the death of me.
I glance at my Mary Jane's. There's a scratch on it. Only when I got home I realised that Descamps stepped on it when he pushed past me. Fuck him and his face.
I hate him, I say in my head. I hate him and will continue to hate him. Two eyes or not.
××《☆》××
End of- Chapter one: Mary Jane's
Next- Chapter two: My eye only
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End of Chapter one, i really hope you guys liked it. It's my first time writing in a long while. When I watched Mixte, i was obsessed with joseph and was disappointed with the lost opportunity of an enemies to lovers. So i made one with a reader insert because i also couldn't find a lot of reader insert for joseph in it. Joseph and reader will get together very soon. Please dm this acc for recommendations. Thank you for reading!!!
#joseph descamps x reader#joseph descamps#mixte1963#michèle magnan#simone palladino#jean pierre magnan#alain laubrac#reader insert#x reader#enemies to lovers#slow burn#fanfic
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Douzième Fille
12th girl
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Experimenting is bound to give you attention. Magazines are trending, and not just in the women's department. A one-eyed boy who has recently been caught with something vulgar has respect for women. How surprising.
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Joseph Descamps x Reader
Warnings: boys being boys (worse than b4), swearing, one-sided anger, reference to a movie (Hot Rod), love triangle again (new character??), fluff (finally?!?!?!)
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Chapter four: Flashy Magazines
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I flip through page by page the new magazine I bought. It was imported from america, and the second I heard of it, I ran to the nearest booth.
That was yesterday. Today is Monday morning. I woke up a little earlier to scroll through my said magazine and look for inspiration. I thought I'd do something different. A bit more bold.
Hair bumps and bangs. A style well worn by Priscilla Beaulieu, the speculated lover of Elvis Presley. The magazine was filled with her.
I grab my scissors, lifting my head to look into my bathroom mirror. I read the directions on the magazine, parting a small section at the middle of my hair, pulling it in front of my eyes.
I take a deep breath in. A click from the scissors is heard. Not half bad, I say to myself. I shag it a little, smiling to myself.
I continue to read the instructions to Priscilla's hair bump, deciding to make it just a small bump, curling the ends, then adding hair spray to keep it all intact. Once I was done , I added a pair of pearl earrings.
There's a new dress waiting for me in my closet. It was a present from my parents. A knee-length flowy dress with a boat neckline and a thin strap belt, all in the colour of watermelon red.
I put it on, patting down the skirt, and grab my kitten heels. I pray that I don't get caught. This is probably how Michèle felt on the first day of school.
I take one last look in the mirror. I looked older, like a proper lady. I straighten my back and smile strainedly. I breathe out slowly.
I grab my satchel and coat, then head out of my flat. Walking to school, eyes follow me. From my lovely neighbour to the men smoking cigarettes in the street. I don't mind them and continue to make my way to school.
Once I get there, I see Laubrac walking away from Michèle. I walk up to her and put on a smile.
"Michèle. How have you been?" I lean in to hug her.
"Wow, Y/N. You're stunning. You look like you were made to be in movies." Michèle laughs, and I laugh with her.
"Don't go that far." We smile at each other and make it through the gate. Once again, eyes are on me, younger this time.
We look towards the bathroom, seeing Felbec run towards it, then get rejected access through. A tall frame pushes him away, and I knew exactly who it was. I furrow my eyebrows.
A boy then comes running through the gate, shouting out how he has the money. I notice Annick as she suddenly walks away. When he makes it there, the school bell rings. I laugh, watching him move around disappointed.
××《☆》××
"Literary salons are almost always hosted by women. Madame de Sèvignè, Madame de Lafayette." Our teacher says as he leans on his table with his arms.
The lecture fades, and all I hear is the tapping of my heels on the hardwood floor.
"Dupin." Our teacher calls out. I turn around to take a look, but my eyes lock with one. I squint at Descamps, then shift my eyes to Dupin.
"As you won't stop talking, you seem well-versed on the subject. Can you share your thoughts on the salons with us?" Dupin stands, and I smile softly, seeing his embarassed state.
I turn my head back to the front, but a stare stays on me, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
I ignored it at first, and then it started to get annoying. So I turned, and I saw him, and he was smiling. He's smiling. Every time I look at him, either he looks dead inside (though, in my opinion, no dead person could look that pretty.), or he's smiling. And that's what he's doing. He's smiling.
How I wish I could wipe it off.
××《☆》××
My ears pound as I hear Ms. Giraud's voice. I might go deaf, but I keep my composure. The bell rings, and we're finally dismissed.
I hear rushed shuffling. Ms. Giraud calls out to the boy.
"Are you in a rush, Lamazière?" Ms. Giraud yells. I notice it's the same boy that ran to the bathroom with money in his hand.
He gets punished, and I laugh quietly. I grab my things, rushing up to the girls.
"Hey, I need to go to the bathroom. Continue walking without me." They nod, and we part ways.
After using the toilet, I look at myself in the mirror. I never expected that. How conscious I'd be of my looks, my movements, and my habits.
Maybe it comes with the fact I dressed up. But for what, I start to wonder. I don't know why I dressed up in the first place. I know I said for a change, but is that really all?
A flash of an eye comes to mind. I quickly shake it off. No way. Not him.
I clear my throat, then grab my things. I hastily walk out the bathroom, suddenly needing fresh air. As I make it to the hallway of the stairwell, footsteps slow down, and eyes follow me. I stop in my tracks.
I scanned through them, what face they were wearing while looking at me. I look down on myself. I still looked presentable, so what were they looking at?
I start to walk, my eyes following the faces of the boys. Each step I take down feels slower. One flight finished, and I stop glancing at them. My feet tap on the porcelain floor of the stairs as I keep my head down.
One flight left, a tall frame walks into the school. He turns to the stairs, and I stop. Descamps stares at me. I stare at him. He then looks up and sees plenty of eyes on me. I see his jaw clench.
He claps his hands. I flinch at the echo of it.
"Will you boys keep staring, or will I go shopping for a new eye with all of yours?" This gets them moving. The stairwell is noisy again.
I turn my head back to Descamps, and I glare. Hard. I walk towards him, and then I'm reminded of our height difference. I crane my neck upward.
"I could've handled myself, you know?" I squint my eyes, and all he does is stare. Why is he just staring? Can't we fight already? I feel my cheeks flush in embarrassment.
"Are you just gonna stare or are you gonna sa-"
"You're beautiful." I barely even heard it. But I did. Then I acted like I didn't.
"What?" I stutter out, flushed cheeks redder than before.
"You're miserable. You clearly needed my help." I scoff, the comforting warmth I felt quickly replaced with boiling anger.
"Just leave me alone, Descamps." I walk away, and into the courtyard.
Who does he think he is? Some knight in shining armour? He's more like a thief in the streets. But then no thief could be as annoying, as dreadful, as smiley as him. That stupid smile, and those stupid words, and his stupid face. Stupid, stupid face. Sometimes I just wanna grab it and-
I stop in my tracks. There's a line in front of the boys' bathroom. What would they be lining up for? I see a mop of blonde hair and framed eyes. Applebaum. He hasn't talked to me, hasn't said hi, and I always wonder if I'd done anything wrong.
But he's the past. I guess he just doesn't like me. It's too bad. I had high hopes for him. A whip of air pushes by me, and it's Descamps again. He's jogging towards the bathroom. He's collecting coins from them. Really, what's going on?
I look in front of me. Michèle and Simone are seated on the stairs. I sigh in relief. I sit beside them.
"I can't do this anymore. All the boys, they're dreadful. Why did I come here in the first place?" I groan. The girls watch me, amused.
"Because you moved here from Paris and-" I cut Simone off.
"Rhetorical." I mutter. She purses her lips shut.
Michèle clears her throat. "So, you think you'll get married?" I lift my head up.
"To who?" My eyes are wide open as well as my ears.
"Eugène. Simone's lover boy." I cover my mouth in shock.
"What? I thought you had a thing for-" Simone cuts me off this time.
"No. It's a little too soon for that." She answers Michèle's question. I mouth sorry. She nods.
"Aren't you worried he'll want to take things further?" Michèle asks Simone. I started to click the pieces together. I bite on my lip to hide my smile.
"I don't know." Simone smiles at the thought. "Can I have a bite? Thanks." She says as she grabs Michèle's apple and takes a bite from it.
"I hope I find a husband soon. So I can get out of my parents house." I nod at Michèle's statement.
"That's true. But hopefully, no one from here. I'd rather die." They laugh at my overreaction, but honestly, I might just die than marry anyone here.
Well, except for one, maybe. Who, I ask myself. Right. Who am I even talking about? My eyes drift to a one-eyed boy. No. Don't even think about it.
Descamps as a husband? I laugh to myself.
Sure, I can imagine him going to work, coming home, smoking a cigarette or two as he reads the news.
Lounging in the living room one lazy afternoon, shirt slightly unbuttoned and pants a bit loose. Eating breakfast with his family, cooking with his wife (who, for some reason, looks almost like me. Very weird.), kissing her shoulders as his arms wrap around her waist.
His scent, his soft lips, his large frame. Carrying his kids in his arms as he spins them around the backyard. Teaching his son how to catch, playing dolls with his daughter, taking a break on a bench, one arm on his thigh, and the other on me.
Me? I shake my head. No, not me. His wife. Certainly not me. I grimace at the thought. Why would I even?
I sigh deeply, frustratedly. These damn thoughts are infuriating, just like him.
"Happy New Year, Ms. Palladino." My trance gets cut off.
"You too, Sir." Simone responds. I clear my throat, composing myself.
Michèle calls out for her uncle and gets up. I wonder what she's going to do. I don't pay much mind as I scoot over to Simone.
"It's Jean Pierre, isn't it?" She flinches.
"What do you mean?" I roll my eyes at her response.
"You know what I mean. Eugène? It's definitely Jean Pierre." Her cheeks flush, and she drops her head.
"I'm happy for you, really." I smile as she lifts her head, hope in her eyes. My smile wavers a bit. "But how will you tell Michèle?"
Her eyes lose that hope, and she looks away.
"I don't know. He said we shouldn't because she'll never let us see each other again."
"But one day, you'll have to." I grab her hand and rub it gently. She sighs.
"I wish you luck." I whisper, then hug her. She hugs me back. Once we pull away, Michèle sits with us again.
"He didn't want to lend it to me. What does 'adult' mean." I raise my eyebrows and puff out my cheeks, clearly not wanting to answer her question.
Michèle looks around. "What's up with everyone today?"
"You only noticed now?" I chuckle.
"Come with me." Me and Simone get up, following Michèle. She walks and calls towards Pichon.
"What's going on in the bathroom?" Pichon pauses. Too long of a pause.
"Nothing." I squint at him. Obviously not nothing.
"Somethings been going on in there today."
"Not at all. Nothing's going on." Pichon tries to walk away, but I stop him with a palm to his chest.
"Really? Why did you react that way when you ran into Mr. Bellanger?" I start to talk.
"What do you mean?" This is getting annoying.
"Don't act dumb. We know you aren't." I snap at him. "Now, why was your face all red?"
"No. It's not red." I furrow my eyebrows, now really getting angry. I almost shove him before Michèle holds me back.
"Simone, is his face red?" I ask her.
"It's red. Very red." I look back at Pichon and raise my eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
"It's not. It's just my complexion." I try to lunge at him, but Michèle's hands are tight on me.
"So you're not gonna tell us?" Michèle calls out for him. I whip my arms off of Michèle's hold, and she's quick to let me go.
"Of course he won't." I glare at the back of his head.
The bell rings.
××《☆》××
Descamps' group walks into the class together. They're rushing a bit.
"And Applebaum?" One of them asks.
"He's gonna sprain something." Descamps answers. Sprain what? What are they doing in that bathroom anyway?
"He's gonna go deaf." Oh. A shiver runs down my spine as I gag. Gross.
I hear Michèle ask Simone something, probably about what the boys are talking about. I don't wanna tell her.
Ms. Couret walks in and greets us. We're granted to sit. The door opens.
"Didn't you hear the bell, Mr. Applebaum." I gag again seeing him. I should've known he was like everyone else. To believe I might've given him a chance. I grimace.
The boys whisper and laugh. There's a boiling in my stomach. Ms. Couret moves on to the topic.
"Do you know the Beatles?" This catches my attention. No one answers, until Pichon does.
"The British band?" Ms. Couret nods.
"Yes. Let's see if those names ring a bell." I shuffle on my seat, giving my full attention to the discussion.
I don't notice the boys passing around a magazine 'till it comes flying towards Michèle's table. I peek over, and in front of her lies a flashy magazine.
××《☆》××
"He said if we didn't give him a name, the class would get detention every Thursday." Pichon says as everyone huddles in to listen. I feel a warm frame over and behind me, but I ignore it, thinking it's just another classmate.
"Then we all get detention." Dupin states, as if it wasn't already obvious.
"The whole class." Pichon exclaims.
"Even the girls?" My brows furrow. What did we do to be blamed?
"Everybody." We all stop.
"That's not fair." Simone says, and I nod with her.
"Right. What did we do? It was you guys who were being perverts." I call out.
I get more frustrated when a chest bumps into me. It's the same frame I felt earlier. I turn around, and I'm met with Descamps.
"You. You were the ones selling the magazine and passing it around." I glare at him.
"You're disgusting. I don't want you near me." I turn again and bid a quick goodbye to the girls then head home.
"Pardine!" I hear Descamps call out. I roll my eyes and keep walking. Once we're in a quieter area, he grabs my arm and gently pushes me to a wall.
"Please. I swear I would never." I glare up at him.
"Then why were you passing it around?" I ask him, tilting my head up.
His pants fill my ears. It's worrying. I place a hand on his chest.
"Calm down." I state, the worry etched in my voice.
He relaxed under my touch, I felt it, the way his muscles stopped being tense. I kept my face hard.
"Now, explain." My voice comes out demanding.
"I needed some money. What better way to collect it quickly than when there's hundreds of prepubescent boys in one school?" I roll my eyes. I almost walk away before he cages me in the wall with his arms.
"Please. Just... listen. I needed money, okay? I wanted to save up for... for..." He stutters, and my brows crease more.
"For?" I raise my brows, expecting an answer.
"For... records. Yeah. For my mother." I squint at his answer.
"That still won't excuse the fact you're a pervert."
"No, I swear. I would never. I know you don't believe me, but I swear. I swear on my mothers life I would never. Not in school, not anywhere. I respect a woman way too much to do something like that."
"A woman? Who? Your mother?" My brain turns to different answers.
"Yes." He stuttering again. "Definitely, my mother." He pushes away from me, and I feel cold.
I hum. Then I look back up at him, eyes still squinted.
"I'll let it pass for now." I see his face fill with relief, and I almost laugh.
I walk away, but before I get too far, I hear him mutter.
"You look pretty." I turn around, shocked and confused.
"What did you say?"
"I said you look shitty. Goodbye, Pardine!" He calls out as he walks away in a rush. I scoff, then turn back around to walk home.
××《☆》××
I pet George, lounging on my bed, thinking of going out to run some errands. I get up and head to the kitchen.
Stuck to the fridge, I read my mother's shopping list. I get rid of the magnet and stick the note into my coat pocket. I glance at George, then the door, then George again.
I sigh. I pick him up, head to my door, and lock it. We go down the stairs. I place him in my bicycle basket. I make sure he's tucked in well, then ride to the farmers market.
Once I'm there, I glance at the shopping list again. Some vegetables, fruit, flour, etc. I walk past each stall, buying what's needed. Just then, a boy, somewhere my age, walks towards me.
"Hi." He seems confident. "I'm Callum. What's your name?"
I look at him up and down, and then the hand he reaches out for a hand shake. He's tall, but not too tall. Maybe five feet and ten inches. He has long, wavy brown hair, neatly brushed behind his ears. He has deep doe eyes and a smile on his face. I hesitate.
"Y/N." I slowly lift my hand and shake his. His smile widens.
"So, I have a project that requires a model, and when I saw you, I thought you'd be the perfect candidate. Not to be blunt about it, but you're beautiful." I blush at the sudden compliment.
"All you need to do is let me take a couple of photos, and I'll pay you, about... 300 franc?" I gape at the offer.
"Are you sure? Just for pictures?" They nod.
"Yes. Good transaction, yeah? If I win the project, the pictures will be displayed in the front of a car magazine. Is that alright with you?" I think again, but what's there to think about when there's 300 franc on the table?
"Deal." I shake hands Callum's hand, and he smiles wider.
"Good. Now, I'll take you to my car, and you can do a couple of poses in front of it." He led me to his car, and the second I saw the bright mint blue of it, my jaw hits the floor.
"This pretty one," Callum pats the front of the car. "is a 1955 Ford Thunderbird. Mint blue exterior, white top, and a mix of both for the interior. It has the brake horsepower of 193, and she's my most prized possession. She goes up to 23,069 kilometres. Very lovely, right?" He leans on the car, almost hugging it.
I cover my mouth, hiding my smile. He walks over to me, gently grabbing my wrist and pulling it away from my face.
"Keep that smile on, pretty lady. We need it for the pictures." He tilts his head towards the car. "Go on."
I walk slowly. Once I'm near the passengers door, I pose, and I see the flash of the camera.
"Get inside. Take a feel around." I walk to the other side of the car, opening the door and closing it once I'm in. I feel the leather of the wheel against my palm, and I scoff in awe. The camera flashes again.
"I didn't get to pose!" I laugh, slightly embarassed.
"You didn't need to. You're a natural." He snaps another photo, and I laugh again.
After taking a few photos and reviewing them, Callum finally chose one. It was me smiling at the camera with my hands on the wheels, windows rolled down.
He told me I looked perfect, which was, based on what he said, the first thing that came into his mind when he saw me.
The rest of the day, he accompanied me shopping and even offered me a ride around town in his car. I obviously couldn't say no.
He pulled the hood down, letting the wind flow through my hair as we drove in the roads, making it to the fields, stopping by for some gas, and then getting on the road again.
××《☆》××
Callum parks the car in front of his flat, which was only a few blocks away from mine. We decided to walk to my place instead of draining out the car, not before him telling me that it was absolutely fine for him to drive me directly home. When I said I needed my legs moving, he stopped pushing it and agreed.
He puts the hood back on, locking the door with his keys. He walks to my side.
"Good luck with the project." My hands are in my coat pockets as Callum walks me home. He smiles, then looks at me.
"Meeting you was luck itself. That means if you're in my pictures, I'll bring luck with me." I roll my eyes.
"Cheesy." We come to a stop infront of my flat's door.
"Well, this is it." I purse my lips, looking up at him.
"Yup. I guess we're here." His eyes sort of lose its spark. I worry.
"You okay?" I raise my eyebrows, concerned.
"I wanna see you again." He blurts out. "Is tomorrow okay? The results will come out, and I sort of want you to be there."
"Sure. I'll be there." I rub his arm reassuringly. He slowly lifts his hand to cup mine on his arm. He lifts it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on it.
"Goodnight, Y/N." He smiles softly, lets go of my hand, and leaves. I stay in my place, unsure of what to do. When his frame disappears from my sight, I shiver. What was that?
I'm greeted by George as I get in my flat. My heart's beating out my chest, and I feel anxious. There's something in me. It doesn't feel so good. Some sort of regret. Why?
A boy. Not Callum. Someone else. Taller frame. Shorter hair. One eye. Fuck no. No way. I can't. I shouldn't. Why am I thinking about him?
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. 'I don't even call him by his first name.' Joseph Descamps. I feel indifferent calling him his first name. I'm not in terms with him like that. We aren't close enough for me to call him that.
Then suddenly, I want to. I want to call him Joseph. 'Why?' I wonder. Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. It feels nice on the tongue. Descamps is suddenly too long of a name. Joseph is fine. The name, I mean. Not him.
Then suddenly, again, it is. He is. 'No, he's not', but I want him to be. How do I get him to be? 'I can't do this. I really shouldn't.' But, oh, how much I want to.
'No.' I quiet my thoughts. 'No. Never. I won't do it.'
But I want to.
Fuck.
××《☆》××
The next morning, most of the boys are called to the principles office. I sigh in boredom, looking out the window.
"It certainly feels emptier today." Simone says, breaking the silence. I want to laugh, but I can't. I wanted to see the way Joseph's green cardigan looked on his wide frame longer.
I shake my head. I totally didn't get enough sleep last night with that thought popping in my head.
Though, that cardigan really suited him. Green really suits him. It makes him sort of glow. It's not like he doesn't already. Come to think of it, his hair glows, too. It was a bit messy. He probably rushed to school today. I wonder how soft it'll be against my fingers when I brush it off to look neater.
I remember how warm he was that day in the alley. He was so much taller, so he had to basically break his back to reach me. I double take that thought.
He had to break his back just to reach me.
I know he didn't actually break his back, but I just knew that sort of hurt. But it was nice, so I guess it was worth it for him. At least, I hope it was.
Okay, wait. Why am I thinking like this? I guess we're on good terms now. I mean, sure, we bicker, but not as much anymore? I don't know. Whatever. I guess we're fine. I want us to be. I'm tired of being mad at him for no reason.
Yeah. We're fine. That's why I'm thinking like this, right? You know, as a friendly, 'I want to take care of you' kind of way. Which is platonic. Totally. Yeah, that's fine.
Maybe I should say hi from time to time? Or no. Maybe just a nod for a greeting? Too bland. A smile will do. He might be creeped out, though.
I groan internally. Why am I overthinking this? Whatever, I'll just smile and wave. That's good. Simple and effective. Don't overthink it. There's nothing to overthink about.
Ms. Couret walks in, and the class collectively stands up. She's wearing a green dress. It looks nice. It reminds me of Joseph.
Woah. Why am I thinking about him? I think I'm just worried. Yeah. I'm worried about him because we're friends. Wait, are we friends? I'll ask later.
We're told to sit down, and we do. Ms. Couret pulls out a copy of the news. This must be about The Beatles, I remember from the last discussion, before it got interrupted. I light up in my seat.
"We won't wait for your classmates. They're getting tortured at the dean's dungeon." The class laughs.
"Today, we'll start with an article on President Kennedy's murder." So it isn't about The Beatles. I furrow my eyebrows.
I raise my hand.
"Yes?" Ms. Couret lifts her head.
"What about the song?" I shrug my shoulders, asking a bit sadly.
"No. There won't be a song. I don't have the record." I purse my lips in silent disappointment. She passes us some papers, and I sit the rest of the day quietly.
××《☆》××
I walk outside of the gate, the crowds of students slowly dissipating. My hair flows in the wind, styled the same way it was yesterday, except done in a half up half down style. My yellow dress lifts up and down as my legs do.
I'm headed to Callum's school, excited for the results. Almost halfway there, I stop. Joseph is in front of a magazine booth, buying. My heart drops, assuming it was another one of those flashy magazines. But then he leans out the booth, holding a magazine with my face on the cover.
My face is on the cover, and Joseph is buying it.
Two very important things.
One, I got on the cover, so Callum won. Two, Joseph is buying a magazine with my face on the cover. My question is, does he know it's me on the cover? Or is he buying it because he generally likes cars.
I take slow steps forward. The closer I am, the more I hear. And there's a voice inside my head repeating Joseph's words.
"That's my girl." He points to my picture in the magazine, showing the booth owner. "She's gorgeous. I mean, look at her." He makes the magazine face him again. There's a wide smile on his face.
He's smiling. I think I'm starting to like it on him.
The second he turns his head and sees me, the smile I just started to admire drops. He looks red under the afternoon sun.
"Pardine." He clears his throat, hiding the magazine. "What are you doing around here?"
"Headed to St. Patricks. You know the all boys school?" I smile softly. His nervousness seems to fade, for only a little.
"What would you be doing there?" He sounds off.
"Meeting a friend." I lift my shoulders, showing off a smile.
He looks like he melts, then stiffens back up. "A friend? Who? What's his name? What's he look like?"
"You ask a lot of questions. Answer mine first, then I'll answer yours." He nods. "What are you doing here?"
He stutters. "I was just looking around. Thought I'd buy a magazine but then saw you." He's acting uninterested. Or atleast trying to.
"Saw me walking towards you, or saw me in that magazine you have in your hands?" His eyes blow open. I hide my laugh.
"What? What do you- oh." He points to the magazine booth that he's still standing next to.
"That's you? Wow, I didn't know you modelled. It's not like I care or anything." He puts his head down, shrugging his shoulders.
"Why'd you buy it, Joseph?" I smirk, tilting my head, trying to meet his eyes. He shys away.
"I was... gonna burn it. Yeah. I was- wait. What did you call me?" He whips his head up. I try to recall, then flush when I do.
"Nothing."
"You totally called me Joseph." Yes, I did.
"No, I didn't." I shake my head.
"You never call me that." No, but like last night, I want to.
"I didn't call you Joseph."
"You just did."
"You're so childish, Joseph."
"You did it again!"
I groan, walking away from him, as red as when he saw me. Why was he red when he saw me? Whatever, I need to get to Callum.
I hear his steps behind me, and I roll my eyes.
"Y/N, come on." I turn around.
"You called me Y/N."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did." He definitely did.
"I didn't." Mhm, sure.
"You did. You never call me that." I mock him. He rolls his eye.
"Whatever."
"Whatever." I walk away from him. He doesn't seem to follow after me anymore, but then after a while, I hear his steps again.
"What's your friends name again? Are you sure I wasn't the friend you were gonna meet?" Oh right, I was gonna ask him about that.
"Are we friends?" I stop and turn to him.
He stops, too. No talking, no walking.
"Do you want us to be?" He asks. I pause.
"Yes."
"Then, yeah." There's that smile I missed.
"Good." I continue to walk.
"You didn't answer my first question."
"His name is Callum. He was the one who photographed me." I feel him grab my arm, and we stop again.
"He photographed you? When did you even meet? How are you sure he isn't some old creep?"
"Yes, he did. Yesterday, when I was in the market. He's our age, I made sure to ask."
"Okay, how exactly did he come up to you in the market?" He squints, tilting his head.
"Just went up to me, said hi, called me beautiful, offered money for the photos, took the photos, we drove around in his car, and then he walked me home." I shrug simply. He's still hesitant.
"You drove around in a stranger's car?"
"Correction, friends car."
"Yeah, a friend you just met."
"Whatever, I'm here now safe and sound anyways."
"But what if he was some creep? You need to be more careful, Y/N."
"I said it's whatever, Joseph." His eyebrows are furrowed, then after a while, he nods.
I continue to walk, and he follows. I don't stop him.
Once we're in front of St. Patricks' gate, I see the familiar Ford Thunderbird and quickly make my way, Joseph hot on my feet.
I see the familiar man leaning against the car with his hands in his pockets, then I see his toothy grin. I run up to him and give him a hug that he returns.
"Callum! Congratulations. I knew you had it in the bag." I say as I lean away from him. He keeps his arms wrapped around me. I feel a burning stare on us.
"Told you, you brought me luck." He takes his glasses off with his hand, then places the arm he used back on my waist. I hear footsteps and Callum's hold loosens.
There's an arm around my shoulder. Then, an all familiar voice.
"You alright, man? Congrats on the magazine. Y/N's told me about you." I look up at Joseph. His jaw's clenched.
"Of course she did. She told you about the ride on this pretty thing?" He pats the car, and I flush.
"Yeah, she did. I'm Joseph." He puts a hand out for Callum to shake. They clasp hands, and their grips are tight.
"Callum, but I guess you already knew that. If you don't mind me asking, who are you to Y/N?"
"Her b-"
"Friend. He's a friend." I cut him off. He looks at me with hurt in his eyes, then masks it with fake joy.
"Yup. I'm her friend." He nods to Callum.
"Oh. It's a bit weird that she hasn't mentioned you. You know, since you're friends and all." Joseph's arm tightens around me.
"Yeah, it's not like her to talk about her friends to someone she just met." There's a sarcastic smirk on his face.
Callum hums. "Well, s'nice to meet you, Joseph. Have a good one, yeah? And you, pretty lady..." Callum's gaze shifts to me, stare softening.
"Have a good night." He lifts my hand to his lips, placing a soft and lingering kiss on it. I take a deep breath in, maintaining composure, overwhelmed by the attention both boys were giving me.
Callum turns around and drives off on his car. Once his car was out of sight, I look back at Joseph, his stare still on the road where Callum rode off to.
"What was that?" I squint, tilting my head up. He instantly looks down at me with tending eyes.
"Nothing. I'll walk you home." His hand comes town to my arm, rubbing it gently. We turn to the way to my place.
The sun has set, and the street lights are on. It's a quiet night, the only things being heard are footsteps and draining water.
Only a block away from my flat, Joseph's arms are still around me. It feels comforting. It's nice to have a new friend. Though, I've known him longer.
"When you get home, I want you to say hi to George for me." I laugh at that. "I'm not kidding."
"Yeah, I'll say hi to George for you." I smile at the ground, then look up at him. He's already looking at me. We slow down a bit, just staring.
Then he leans in, and I mirror him. We lean in closer, closer, and closer. A moped engine turns on. We stop, and pull away.
"Here we are." He stops, and I didn't even notice we were already at my place.
"Oh. Right." He steps away from me, the arm around my shoulders gone. I feel alone again.
"Well, good night, Y/N." He stand there with his hands in his pockets.
"Good night, Joseph." I purse my lips. He nods. I walk up quarter way to the steps, then I stop.
I go back down, see Joseph, I tip toe, then press a kiss on his cheek. I quickly walk up the stairs again, almost tripping.
I make it to the inside of my flat, not bothering to turn the light on, then rush to the window. I peek out of it, and he's still there. He looks bewildered. Then, a smile slowly sits on his face. He stays there for a while, and then he walks away.
I slowly get up from my place, turning on the light, and I just stand there. Then, I squeal.
Holy fucking shit. Oh my gosh. No way, no way, no way, no way. I just kissed his cheek. Holy shit.
That's normal. Totally. Just a friendly kiss. But it felt nice.
I check the time. It's 12 in the morning. New year's kiss. I just had Joseph as my New Year's kiss. Kind of.
I see George, and smile wider.
"Joseph said hi."
I definitely don't hate not hating him anymore.
××《☆》××
End of- Chapter four: Flashy Magazines
Next- Chapter five: You Know Where To Find Me, and I Know Where To Look
××《☆》××
It's finally done 😭😭 watch me take a month for chapter five /j. Anw, this is a handful chapter. So many emotions. This is turning out to be an enemies to frienimies to lovers. What do u guys think abt Callum? Honestly, hes lowkey me cus i love cars. I wish i had his car. More of him soon too. I wanted tk add fluff so that u guys dont get the idea that im not making joseph and reader end game. I promise i am but u guys have to wait. Happy reading hope u guys liked this!!!
#joseph descamps x reader#mixte1963#joseph descamps#michèle magnan#simone palladino#jean pierre magnan#alain laubrac#enemies to lovers#reader insert#fanfic#enemies to friends to lovers#fluff#i want what they have#guys wtf#first time for everything#theyre so cute#theyre so in love#i want him#priscilla presley#priscilla beaulieu#lana del rey#60s fashion#60s icons#60s
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