#mixte1963

[adelinelvge]

#female manipulator #female rage #female hysteria #this is a girlblog #just girly things #i’m just a girl #girlblogging #mixte1963 #delulu #lana del rey

[meltinghun]

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

[hydemenot]

OFF LIMITS - mattheo r. | part. 1

➠ It's the 1960s and Hogwarts Academy has finally opened its doors for female students. Transferring from Beauxbatons, you're finally going into the same school as your brother, Theodore Nott, and he's made it very clear to you that the two of you aren't siblings inside Hogwarts — that's until you got yourself in trouble, harboring several injuries where Theo had stubbornly insisted on taking care of you himself and accidentally meeting his dorm mate. INSPIRED BY MIXTE 1963

w: there are italian and french words that i googled so if the translations are off, sorry italian and french readers (if i have them), nonmagic au, siblings angst bc yes, cliffhanger and unedited.

📚: PART 1 | PART 2 | PART XX

"And remember, Gioia(joy), don't get into unnecessary trouble for you and your brother's sake, okay? Understand me?"

Your mother's words suddenly echoed from your brain to your ear as you felt your back hit the hard pavement of the castle. Your bag was tussled to the ground and left with the things inside sprawled against the muddy grass, leaving you with nothing but your arms to defend yourself. In all fairness, you never thought you'd have to defend yourself in the first place. No one warned you English (or are they French?) boys knew no bounds of who can they meet fists with.

"You think it's funny to embarrass me, huh?" Descamps, or whatever his name was, backed you into a corner. His and his goon's faces were etched with anger. You couldn't blame them, really. If someone were to call you a toothpick with left over tar after publicly bullying another student by the new girl, you'd probably be pissed too; heavy on the probably though, because you're never one to bully anyone like that asshole.

"If you only knew how to keep your mouth shut this wouldn't be happening." You retorted back in the same confidence you had inside the classroom.

You could see the vein popping from the boy's forehead and without even giving you time to react, his knuckles met your jaw. The impact causing you to hit the wall again except ten times harder and on your head. The dress your mother painfully had to put on you was dirtied in a matter of seconds as you fell into the ground.

Descamps laughed at the sight of you. "You should've kept your mouth shut, you connesse(cunt)!" Ah, so they are french.

A few more kicks to your stomach, and nasty words of encouragement from Descamps' friends, they finally left when the school bell rang. Lunch was over and you didn't even get a bite of your mother's sandwich — which was probably somewhere on the ground swimming on the puddles. There's no use attending your next class; you'd rather get a mark on your attendance than try to sit in the same room as the boys that beat you up.

You've always been a bit of a loud mouth, as your mother and teachers in Beauxbatons have said, and back then, it would've only caused you a few push to the shoulders and icy glares. You wondered why your parents thought it was a good idea to attend Hogwarts. The fact that your brother was against it should have been a major factor to your parents, being their golden child and all.

As your thoughts ran, you managed to sit up and lean against the wall again. The position somewhat helped lessen your headache. You need to get yourself together and head to the nurse's office before anyone sees you, hopefully patching yourself enough to excuse it as a staircase accident to your family.

The ringing in your ear didn't stop you from hearing your brother's voice calling your name.

Speak of the devil.

Theodore's hand held your head, parting ways from the cold cement, to get a closer look at you. It's only when he placed his thumb against your temple did you realize there's blood running down your face.

That's probably the cause of the headache, you thought.

His hand is pressed firmly to your cheeks, causing more pain that you're already feeling. "Can you stop that?" You snapped at him, shaking your head to forcefully remove his hold on you. The last thing you wanted to hear was Theo's voice because you knew he'll just blow your eardrums off.

"Save your scolding when we're at home; y'know, when I can at least open both eyes while you talk." Once again, your pent up anger, and probably adrenaline from the beating, caused you to raise your voice against him.

You heard him click his tongue, "You're nowhere near going home at this state. Mamma's going to have a heart attack." As soon as he finished talking, Theo suddenly carried you in his arms. His actions caused you to squirm. It's embarrassing enough to be seen in your state, let alone in the arms of your older brother.

You're not a kid anymore. You were kicked in the stomach and lived.

"Hey! mettetemi giù!(put me down)! I can walk to the nurse's office."

"The nurse is out at the moment, you'll only feel worse if you stay in the beds. I'll clean you up."

You frown, eyes half lidded from how tired you are as the adrenaline finally started subsiding. "As if. I thought we weren't supposed to know each other?" You stopped squirming but gave more effort into yelling at Theo, who looked unfazed from your words.

Theo clicked his tongue again. It's a habit he does when he's frustrated with something; that something today was you.

"You're right but then you get yourself into trouble on your first day." He said with his annoyingly matter-of-fact tone that you've always despised. "Perché papà ha accettato di trasferirti? Dio(Why did dad agree to transfer you? God)."

"Non è che io voglia stare qui, non ti ho mai chiesto di essere responsabile per me! (It's not like I want to be here, I never asked you to be responsible for me!)"

Theo faces you, his expression distorted into a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "You're my sister, you'll always be my responsibility."

As you were about to argue again, Theo slammed open a door, shutting you up. You didn't even realize you were back inside the school's building, specifically your brother's dorm. The room was darker than you thought and a lot bigger. From the door, two beds were placed on both sides of the room; you assumed the bed Theo placed you on was his which was on the left side.

"Don't move. I'll get first aid from the nurse's office. Don't answer the door unless it's me, I'll be locking the door so I'll just use my key. Understand?"

Theo reminded so much of your mother that it only made you roll your eyes, the opened one at least. "I understand." You answered shortly, not making eye contact. That seemed to be an enough answer from you once you heard the door click shut.

With a sigh, you let yourself fall on the soft mattress. The sight of the four-poster bed made you reminisce on your dorm back in your old school. You missed the privacy, the lack of family around and especially the lack of boys. As you were about to roll further into the soft mattress, wanting to feel the pillow against your head, the door opened once more. Too busy admiring the ceiling, you didn't bother looking up from your position, knowing that it's just your brother. He probably already has a speech ready for you.

"Uh, hello?" The unfamiliar voice startled you, making you sit up. You're face to face with an unknown boy and his black curly hair. Sweat ran down your forehead, internally panicking at the fact that he was definitely not Theo.

"Did Theo bring you here? and—" His eyes hardened at the sight of blood all over your dress and your face. You watch as his eyebrows furrowed, immediately sending an alarm to go off in your head that's telling you he's getting the wrong idea here. "Did that bastard do that? Why's your face all messed up?"

You shook your head immediately, instinctively hiding yourself under the covers. It looked like the boy didn't believe you, tightening his grip on the door knob he's still holding.

Despite the fact that you didn't wish to speak to another boy today, you were left with no choice but to explain yourself. "Theo didn't do this, I promise. He brought me here to patch me up because the nurse's out— don't misunderstand, please." Your voice trembled but had enough resolute for him to feel relief, seeing how he lets go of the poor door.

He remained in the middle of the room, contemplating his next move. You, on the other hand, still felt frozen on your spot in the middle of the bed, eyes on the boy. He's handsome, you'll admit, but a face like that can be owned by anyone, so you had your guard up the whole time as the awkward silence between the two of you raised. The boy finally moved and began rummaging through the closet on the opposite side.

Seeing how familiar he was to the room as he grabbed a white cloth from one of the drawers then entering the shared bathroom, it led you to the conclusion that he's Theo's roommate. He came out with a damp towel, suddenly approaching you with careful stels. You had your guard up, you swear you did, but you didn't give much of a fight once he started wiping the dried blood from your face.

Unlike Theo, his hands were gentle with you. A hand was placed under your chin, his thumb and index finger kept your head steady while his other hand, holding the towel, carefully dabbed it on an open wound, as if he was used to cleaning up injuries.

"I get into fights often so don't worry, you're in good hands." Your eyes are ever so slightly widened. "I can practically hear what you're thinking with that look on your face." He chuckled, his voice deep and calm, it almost made you blush — both in embarrassment for being an open book and his voice.

You see him turning the towel around to wipe another spot on your face. "If Theo wanted to patch you up, he should've cleaned you up before leaving." He mused.

"He's really not one to take care of people often." You suddenly quipped, one eye closed as the towel ran circles on the dried up blood.

Your words made him chuckle again, bringing back the boyish smile that he had. "You can say that again," He replied, "how long have you known him?"

"All my life, I guess? Unfortunately." You started to feel comfortable with the boy's presence, a surge of confidence once again going through your chest. "What's your name?"

"You've known Theo all your life but you've never heard of me? That hurts," You looked at him as he placed the hand that was holding your head to his chest, his expression in mock-hurt, making you both laugh.

The moment was cut short when the door squeaked open again, your brother finally arriving with the first aid. His roommate didn't bother stopping, not even turning around to see the angered expression on Theo's face. It's only when he was grabbed by the collar, his warm hands leaving your face, did he stop.

"What the fuck are you doing, Mattheo?"

You take note of his name. Mattheo somehow fitted the boy very much.

Mattheo held his hands in the air, like a criminal to a policeman, with a smirk on his face. "I'm just cleaning her up, man. You shouldn't have left your girl here— the other guys also have a key to our dorm if you didn't know."

Your girl? Your face scrunched up, so did your brother's, at Mattheo's words. "She's not my girl, you bird brain, that's my sister." Theo finally released him and made his way to you, leaving Mattheo on his own.

"Never refer to me as that again, please, for the sake of my breakfast." You held a hand to your mouth. Mattheo's eyes widened at the information and if your vision wasn't so blurry, you would've thought you saw his face brighten up. Theo began to put some ointments on the open wounds on your knees using a cotton swab. You felt the other side of the mattress dip and saw Mattheo sitting across from the two of you.

He smiled at you, completely ignoring the fiery glare from Theo. "So, what school did you go to before Hogwarts?

"That's none of your business—"

"I was in Beauxbatons." You looked back at Theo with the same glare he had as you cut him off. He scoffed at your actions but proceeded to place bandages on your legs.

"Oh, Alors tu as l'habitude de parler français, non?(Then you're quite used to speaking french right?)" You nodded in amusement, finding the prominent english accent through his french words a bit... adorable?

You felt your face reddening at your own thoughts. "Oui, bien sûr(Yes, of course)."

Too enamored by Mattheo, Theo had to accidentally press one of the bruises too hard to bring your attention back to him. He doesn't want to hear anymore french conversations between the two of you. "Are there any other wounds?" Theo asked, feigning ignorance of what he just did.

As if on cue, the formed bruises on your stomach ached, making you groan in pain. Both boys caught this immediately, rushing to aid you.

"Just some on the stomach." You mumbled as Mattheo gently laid you down on the bed. Your answer made them both freeze. They looked hesitant and you're not surprised. You knew Theo won't be able to help you with this, let alone Mattheo. "I told you I should've went to the nurse's office." You said to Theo.

"Why didn't you bring her there anyway?" Mattheo questioned your brother, who still had the same frustration evident on his face.

Theo sighed, "I don't trust that the boys that did this to you won't come back and look for you." You fell silent at this. There was no way those French assholes wouldn't, now that you thought of it. "And by being here, I won't be questioned by others on why I went to the nurse's office."

Mattheo's mind seemed to be elsewhere when he placed a gentle hand on your back. "Who did this to you, anyway?" He was the first to ask and it looked like Theo realized it too. You frowned, wiping a frustrated hand over your face. Deep down, your pride didn't want to let Theo know. You don't want to cower behind your older brother like you always do. But it's different now. The two of you went to the same school and you had no plans on going back—you wanted to get your revenge.

You glanced at Mattheo whose eyes remained on you.

And maybe you wanted to stay for another reason too.

With a sigh, you finally spoke. "It was a boy in my class. Descamps was his last name, I think." You fully turned to Mattheo and to your surprise, he immediately moved his head back and faced Theo. It made you chuckle at how red Mattheo's ear looked but you kept that observation to yourself.

You saw the way two of them made eye contact as if they were telepathically communicating.

Looks like they got dibs on Descamps before you do.

#slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #theodore nott #mixte1963

[chickchimm]

my lana del rey man <3

#mixte1963 #mixte #jean pierre magnan #jean pierre mixte #baptiste masseline #he’s so lana del rey vinyl coded

[girlystories]

my other works aside, bittersweet and l'appel du vide, ive been thinking of writing a joseph descamps x reader from mixte 1963... sadly there aren't many people into this show, so i wonder if anyone would like a work about it.

#mixte1963 #mixte #joseph descamps #fanfic #fanfiction #Voltaire high-school

[user2772636]

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

[glcssed]

#╱ plots . #secret relationship things pls #mixte1963 #voltaire high #baptiste masseline #anouk villemin #don't look too close at these #video quality -8/10

[yvjnslxt]

fun’s over . I NEED HIMMM ARRSGSHDHDJKDKCKXKDKFKX

#joseph descamps #vassili schneider #mixte1963 #voltairehighschool #série

[jamespotterismydaddy]

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

[naomiswonderland]

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

[bonitr]

they share the same vibe

#mixte1963 #joseph descamps #they are the same #but one is french #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #please someone make an au of mixte1963 but lucemond #lucemond #hotd #mixte

[meltinghun]

Complicated ; Jean-Pierre Magnan.

summary; since the start of the school year, Jean-Pierre and reader have competed with each other for the first place on everything, that is until reader starts to neglect herself.

warnings: fem!reader, ANGST!!!, fluff, swearing, academic enemies-to-lovers, feelings of failure, reader has a shitty family AND doesn't take care of her health (dead dove do not eat? idk?), canon typical misogyny, they're so mean but they like each other (i promise!!).

w/c: 2.8k

author note: i want to thank everyone who encouraged me to keep writting, your comments made me blush and giggle so hard, omg!!!! <3

I got stuck in this o.s for more than a month because I really liked the idea but I wasn't convinced on how it was turning out, but anyways, I had to upload something after being inactive for so long lmao.

The latin teacher handed each student their graded exams, occasionally throwing back handed comments when he saw necessary, visibly enjoying the defeated faces of the students that didn't receive a satisfactory grade.

With an audible sigh, he extended the paper towards Y/N, shaking his head to emphatise his dissaprovement.

"You were the only reason as to why I was starting to believe that it was a good idea to integrate girls to the school." He raised his eyebrows. "But I'm starting to regret it."

The loud comment reverberated on the walls and hurt her ears, making her shrink in her seat with embarrassment when the big red 7/20 was placed in front of her. When the professor continued walking around, she heard a subtle chuckle coming from the left, turning her head in that direction. Founding a pair of big green eyes already staring at her in amusement.

"And I'm starting to believe that, after all, you are not a threat at all." A small smirk painted his face before continuing. "Maybe you fooled all of us into believing that you were actually smart, but I guess you aren't at all."

Her throat closed at the same time that she felt the need to throw up, she didn't knew what was wrong with her, she stayed up late studying for the tests, wrote her own resumes and even recited them out loud to try and memorize it, but no matter what she tried, the formulas didn't seem to stick to her brain, the numbers and symbols seemed like the exact same thing and confused them with each other and even the words of her history homework seemed to be written on a foreign language. She felt like a failure ever since her parents started to demand even better grades than she already had, spending her days and nights studying and having little to almost no sleep at all, investing all her time into trying to regain her star student position.

She was exhausted, sometimes even getting to the point of hallucinating things from the lack of rest, but convincing herself that she didn't deserve it until her parents were more than proud of her. And that seemed so far away.

Blinking away the tears, she tried to keep up with her facade, "Maybe you should start to mind your own business, Magnan." She managed to spat through gritted teeth.

"And that's where you're wrong, again." She groaned in annoyance. "See, when something makes you feel miserable, it is completly of my business because it makes me feel amazing."

She took a sharp inhale, and before she could say something, the sound of the bell indicating the start of reccess pierced the air. Rapidly, she gathered her belongings and almost sprinted out of the classroom, earning a severe reprimend from the teacher that she didn't care enough to hear.

"Miss L/N!" He made an offended sound. "Women, they are so sensitive... That's why they don't belong here."

She made a straight path towards the teachers restrooms, and only after locking the door did she allowed herself to let out a choked sob. The tears falling down and making a mess everywere, a hand coming up her face to try to muffle her desperate cries.

She really didn't know what was wrong with her.

Maybe she was the problem.

Everything came down like a ton of bricks falling on her, from the pressure of trying to be a role model for her family, to the hurtful words of Jean-Pierre that striked a nerve. Usually it wouldn't bother her that much and instead she would have a comeback ready to throw at him, but lately that wasn't the case, the highlights of her day used to be the moments were they started bickering at each other, sharing defying looks and victorius smirks in the way. She awaited those moments so eagerly.

But now she was lacking the strength to think on a smart jab to get right back at him, and even when she did manage to come up with something, it didn't bring her any satisfaction at all like it used to. Instead, she just felt drained.

Once again, the bell rang indicating to everyone that the classes resumed once again, but rather of getting out of her little hiding spot, she just stayed there, not feeling ready to face yet another deception.

Nor face again those mesmerizing green eyes.

A sharp headache made her wince slighty, she's been having them since a few days ago, sometimes were more powerful than others and today it seemed like one of the days were she felt like digging out her brain out of her head. She splashed some water on her face and looked at the mirror, looking away almost immediately when she took note of how sick she looked.

Opening the door, she carefully made her way to the infirmary, thinking to herself that some minutes with the school's nurse could excuse her absence in the class. A sudden feeling of dizziness caused by the sudden movement almost made her trip over, but before it happened, a strong hand took hold of her arm, keeping her from falling.

"What is wrong with you? Where the hell were you?" Jean-Pierre gave her a severe look that harbored his concern.

"I already told you to mind your own business." With all the strength she could muster, she pushed herself free out of his hold, the anger bubbling on her veins. "I don't owe you nothing, so get out of my sight and leave me the fuck alone. You would do me a great fucking favor."

Her harsh words left him completly dumbfounded, never before had she talked to him like that, even on the days when he annoyed her out of her mind. He saw how she moved towards the stairs, holding tightly onto the rails; moving closer to her hunched form, he felt the sudden and desperate need to ask her what was the problem, if he could help her in any way.

"I'm here against my will, Miss Couret sent me to look out for you." Was the only thing that came out of his mouth. "She was worried because she didn't saw you at recess, even more when you weren't at the classroom."

The lie slipped off naturally from him. Miss Couret didn't sent him to look out for her, he scaped class by coming up with some excuse about needing to ask something important about his latin competence, the truth was that he was the one who worried about her absence. But she didn't need to know that tiny detail.

Jean-Pierre would never admit it out loud, but he saw the drastic change on his rival's attitude, and it got him concerned. He would secretly listen to conversations of her friends that involved Y/N herself as a main topic, that's how he got to know how strict her parents were with her and it made his stomach churn with worry.

The weird thing was, he really didn't know why he cared so much, neither why he couldn't stop thinking about her. She was the first thing on his mind when he waked up, thinking about new ways to annoy her and have her total attention on him, he thought about her on the afternoon while doing homework, wondering if she managed to do the excersices better that him, and she was also his last thought before dozing up to sleep, anxiously waiting for the morning to come to do that rutine all over again.

He really didn't knew why.

A grip on his sleeve made him stop on his tracks and turn his torso towards her, his free hand instinctively coming up to rest it on her forearm.

"I think I will pass up." She mumbled with a lost look on her eyes. "If you let me fall, I will kill you, Magnan."

And not even a second later, everything turned black to her.

- - - - - - - - - -

The fist thing she noticed was the slight smell of pine blending up with the strong one coming out of the medicines, a small sigh leaving her lips before opening her eyes, stumbling almost immediately with the image of Jean-Pierre sitting beside the bed she was lying, and from what she could see, he was engrossed with a latin book.

Her heart raced and a hundred thoughts per second invaded her head. He could've left her with the nurse to come back to class, why was her still there? Was he waiting for her to wake up? But also, what if he was only there to be the first one to laugh at her? The questions overwhelmed her inmensely, so she decided to ask first the important ones.

"How long have I've been unconsious?" The sudden sound of her voice making him shot his head up, she could swore he almost looked relieved.

"I, uhm... Here, I bet you are thirsty." He cleared his voice before handing her a cup of water. "It wasn't for that long, just a couple hours. The school's over in less than forty minutes, so we can go home anytime."

She emitted a groan. "No wonder why I feel like I slept for years, I missed the whole day!" Leaving the cup on the bedside table, she glanced quickly around the nursery. "Where's Mrs. Bellanger?"

"Some kid was playing too hard and broke his arm in the process, she told me to keep an eye on you while she took him to the hospital." He paused, momentarily doubting if he should keep going. "She also told me that you passed out due to a huge lack of sleep and a possible unbalanced diet. Tell me, did you thought that it was smart? To harm yourself in order to have the acceptance of some idiots who can't see your real value? It's not worth it if you end up like this."

As if it were an habit, her eyes got teary, losing the count on how many times she cried on the day. It bothered her so much, even more that it was happening in his presence. For a moment, he almost sounded so consternated... But either way, she wouldn't tolerate being scolded like a kid.

"Excuse you?" She exclaimed, an evident frown on her face.

"Don't try to play dumb. You know what I mean."

"Oh, so you want to know why? I'm the first granddaughter, the first niece, the first child, the older sister... It's obvious that I have to make some sacrifices, even if it's at my own expense. After all, everyone expects so much more from me." The words came out slower than before and full of venom. "Yes, it may not be really healthy, but I push myself because it's the only way to make them proud of me, and it's something that I believed you would understand, Magnan."

"And you are not wrong, I do understand you." He took a few seconds before saying his next words. "That's why I don't want you to pressure yourself to be someone that you aren't, I know what it's like to be pressured by your parents -..."

"No, you don't. You don't know how my parents are!" She interrupted him. "You don't know how it is to be belittled when you don't achieve something worthy of their interest, you don't know how its like to feel proud of yourself because you thought that you finally did something right just to find out that you failed again, or to spend every second of the day studying, priving yourself of having a social life just to feel miserable at the end of the day. And you definitely don't know how it's like to live your whole life without knowing if your family even likes you."

She didn't know when she started to cry, much less in what moment Jean-Pierre got close enough to wrap her in a tight embrace. But suddenly, she felt like the constant emptiness in her chest was being filled with something much greater than a temporary stability brought by false acceptance, it was an unknown warm and fuzzy feeling that made her anguish vanish away. It felt like that was all she needed throughout her life.

They pulled apart slowly, his hands immediately went to her face to wipe away any traces left of tears on her cheeks, and they stood there, looking at each others eyes, feeling as if they were frozen in time. 

"I may not understand entirely, but I can learn how to." He murmured. "I really want to understand you."

"But why would you bother?" She asked, confused and desperate to know. "Since the moment we met, the only thing we do is argue, we hate each other!... I tried to hurt you so many times and you have done the same to me, so please, make me understand, why would you want to help me? Why do you care?"

"Because I care about you, deeply." The words came out breathless, his eyes trying to desperately find her gaze. "I really don't know how to describe what I feel, but I do know that every time I see you, my heart goes crazy, and sometimes I wonder if it will come the day where it's going to jump out of my chest to go chasing after you. I know that every time you laugh with another person, I wish with all my soul to, someday, be worthy enough to be the cause of your smile. But I do know that if I hated you, really did, I would be happy for your downfall, but I'm not, because I can't force me to act as if I don't care about you, not anymore."

Jean-Pierre wasn't a man or words. All his life he struggled to express his feelings, but this time, it was different.

"One of the things I admire you for is the way that you don't never give up, it doesn't matter how many times I get a slighty better mark, you study harder until beating me up the next time we have an exam. You are resilient, and so damn smart that it makes me feel jealous sometimes, because I wish I could have a little bit of the determination that you possess, and I can't comprehend why you focus on your non existing flaws and ignore all your strenghts."

"I never thought..." She began with a whisper, attempting to make a joke in order to not break down completely. "I never thought that someone could ever think that highly of me, not even you."

"How could I not? You are the most incredible person I ever met, Y/N."

A violent sob reverberated on the nursery walls, and before she could even feel shame for shattering that easily due to the sweetest words she ever heard, she found herself on Jean-Pierre's hold once again.

It felt like they spend a lifetime in that embrace, hearing nothing more than the rapid beats of their hearts and sharing everything they didn't had the courage to say out loud, not yet. Squeezing the hug one last time before breaking away, she dried her face with the sleeves of her blouse, his adoring eyes never leaving her.

"Now, what? What's next from this point?" Fearfully, she asked.

"Now... I will walk you home." Seeing her confused frown, he added rapidly. "If you want to be the number one, you have to be better than me, and the first step to achieve that is to sleep well and eat some real food. You have to take care of yourself, then we will work on the rest."

"We? You will help me beating you up?"

"I want to help you to become a better version of yourself. If that costs me becoming the second of the class, then so be it."

He extended his arm in her direction, encouraging her to hold it. Slowly, she got up from the bed and hooked their arms together.

"I must admit that my home is far away and I came walking today, so you can still back down if you want."  

"Only a fool could reject such offering."

She exhaled a shaky breath, never expecting that answer. As they made their way towards the door, a sudden question hitted her.

"How did you know about my problem with my family?"

"I accidentally overheard a conversation, I didn't realise it was about you until they named you." An overwhelming warmth creeping up his face.

"Of course, 'accidentally'."

"Shut up." His reddening cheeks and the obvious attempt of a lie didn't went unnoticed, earning a light giggle from the girl.

That fluttery sensation came back to her. She never thought that it would be possible to feel this smitten over someone, even if she still struggled to admit it. While the boy couldn't stop thinking of how fortunate he felt in those moments, with the person he couldn't stop dreaming about holding onto him and walking her home for the first time, and hopefully not last. The warm breeze of the spring surrounding them as they made their way out of the school between laughs and jokes, secretly wishing to have more moments like this one in the future.

#jean pierre x reader #jean pierre magnan #jean pierre magnan x reader #mixte 1963 x reader #mixte1963 #mixte 1963 #academic rivals #voltaire high

[hydemenot]

OFF LIMITS - mattheo r. | pt. 2

➠ A week after the incident, you've been meeting with Mattheo Riddle more than before—with the excuse of being an unsaid member of your revenge against Descamps, the cause of the mentioned incident—and, unbeknownst to each other, feelings began to bloom between the two of you despite the odds (odds being your brother, Theodore Nott).

The revenge takes a turn when things don't go according to the plan. INSPIRED BY MIXTE 1963

before reading: fem!reader, implied innocence (this is the 60s) more on mattheo's pov but it's a bit mixed with the two of yous ! boys fighting, cursing, theo is hated (lovingly), cliffhanger, this chapter feels filler-y but we move

📚: PART 1 | PART 2 | PART XX

Mattheo's mind couldn't focus on anything that's written on the blackboard or the professor's words, which he knew deep down he'd regret later on during the exams. His thoughts were filled with you, and for good reasons—well, some were. Mattheo couldn't shake the first time he saw you on Theo's bed. While you were a bit battered and bruised, somehow it didn't shun your beauty. He saw a bit of resemblance between you and Theo, but he couldn't deny that you were on a whole different level. He believed the rumors were true; Beauxbatons' students were all unbelievably pretty.

It's been a week since the incident, and Theo, who's just as distracted as Mattheo for a different reason, has been more lenient with him meeting you—if lenient was being the epitome of a wall in between the two of you. Planning revenge took three people; you insisted it was, so you were always around when Theo was, giving Mattheo the chance to have a conversation with you as much as he could.

As expected, once the school bell rang, he was quick to catch the colored dress you decided to wear today, accompanied by a jacket that protected you from the cold breeze near the door of their classroom. Mattheo wasted no time collecting his things, but not without Theo practically zooming past him, purposely giving daggers of glare to any of the boys who kept their eyes on you.

Once Mattheo was out of the room, he could hear Theo's lecturing tone already.

"I told you to wait for us by the Great Hall!" He said, his voice raised in an angered whisper, but it didn't go unnoticed by him how Theo purposely covered you with his arm, leaning against the wall. You didn't back down, of course, crossing your arm and reciprocating your brother's irritated expression.

"I looked weird waiting out there, Theo—there were at least five people that asked me if I was lost."

"You couldn't handle the sixth one?" Mattheo chuckled, joining in on the tense conversation. He placed a hand on his friend's back, patting him to calm down. "Don't be so harsh on your sister, Theo. I hope you're not forgetting she's the victim here, right?"

Mattheo laughed as Theo brushed his hand off and watched as he took hold of your wrist, making a beeline up the staircase. During lunch breaks, the three of you decided that it'd be better to talk inside their dorm. The first time you sat next to them caused a bit of an uproar within the guys, especially seniors who knew him and Theo—it caused a lot of misunderstandings about you, ones that the two boys aren't particularly fond of hearing. It also helped gain secrecy about their plan to 'avenge' you.

Theo was called by one of their Latin professors, so Mattheo took the initiative to get the two of you to the dorms first—of course, not without Theo threatening to take not just one but two of Mattheo's heads off if he tried anything funny with you. Mattheo tried to ignore the questioning glance from you along the way.

Once Mattheo threw his bag on his bed and slumped down next to it, you groaned in displeasure at your brother's action (that's what it looked like to him, at least). His eyes followed you up to where you sat next to him, your bag laid on your lap.

"Suffocating, isn't he? Somehow he fills the whole room just by being himself," he started, looking over at you with pity, though his tone was laced with jest.

You rolled your eyes, not being able to contain your smile at his words. "Truly a pleasure to be with."

"Can't believe you handled him for so long and you didn't even have a choice," Mattheo urged for the 'Theo hate train'. It almost felt like talking shit behind your brother's back turned into a bonding moment between you and Mattheo.

"Well, you did, but you still chose him," you said with an amused shrug.

This caused Mattheo to sit up, hands on his chest, in faux-offense. "I beg to differ, sweetheart; that bloke chose me." Your raised eyebrow made him add more. "Not to mention, he insisted on staying with me because, and I quote, the only student he can handle."

You shook your head as you covered your mouth to laugh. "I don't think that's a good thing, Mattheo; I don't know."

You tried to ignore the funny feeling in your stomach at the mention of the nickname, not used to being called such endearments other than from your mother. Spending your first entire week in Mattheo's presence was nothing but bliss. He's the first guy friend you've ever made, and you were glad it was him. Despite his displayed callousness between his friends, Mattheo was sweet and kind to you. But that didn't also mean he looked down on you. You remembered hearing Mattheo, from when you first started waiting for them by their classroom, about how he insisted on letting you get at least a few punches here and there because he knew you could.

Mattheo didn't reply to your teasing, answering with a hearty laugh, causing you to join him. You liked him quite a lot, even though you're sure Theo would put Mattheo's head on a stake if he knew.

Speaking of, Theo finally arrived with a tired huff as he threw his messenger bag against his bed's mattress and began loosening his tie—your eyes curiously looked at Mattheo to see he wasn't wearing one.

"Professor made you show off your smarts again?" Mattheo spoke up. You turned back to face Theo as he sighed again. "In front of investors, I'm guessing."

"That would've been better, but no, it's to show off his teaching skills to the new English teacher," Theo explained with a nonchalant expression.

"Ah, it must've been hard for you." You could just tell from Mattheo's tone that he was far from concerned, making you giggle to yourself. Being in close proximity, Mattheo heard you and tried his best to contain his laughter. You saw your brother's eyes going back and forth between the two of you, full of suspicion. You coughed into your hand to calm yourself.

"So, any news on Descamps?" Mattheo suddenly asked you, trying to change the subject, but you can still see the way he raised his eyebrows that he's still holding back.

You nodded, looking back at Theo, who had his usual serious face that kept you from getting infected by Mattheo's giggle fest beside you. "If I'm not wrong, he spends most of his time after class on the open grounds with his friends."

Mattheo hummed. "That gives us the opportunity to embarrass him then," he said as he made eye contact with Theo too. They were talking again—telepathically, you guessed. Is it a best friends' thing?

"We'll wait for him there. Our class ends 15 minutes earlier than yours, so just go straight to us, okay?"

The plan was for you to wait on Descamps and his friends to fix their things—a signal that they're about to leave—before heading to the open grounds, but it seemed like fate really hated you when the blonde boy suddenly approached you before you could stand up from your table. The professor left first, leaving some of your useless classmates to just stare at the scene.

Descamps' one hand landed on your table while the other held on to the back of your seat, perfectly locking you in. "What do you want?" You said with a glare, a similarity Mattheo once commented on that really reminded him that Theodore Nott was your brother, though it didn't falter the boy's annoying confidence.

"Don't act all cheeky now, Nott. As if you weren't following me around all week with your little heart eyes." His friends laughed while Descamps had that disgusting smirk. Unlike Mattheo's, it only made him look creepy.

You scoffed, tightening your grip on your bag. "You've misunderstood me, Descamps; I don't have heart eyes for boys who kick girls." You retorted loudly enough for the remaining students to hear. They gasped and began whispering to one another, but they stayed where they were, giving no intention of intervening or even just calling back the professor.

You embarrassed him once again, making you smile to yourself. "Now that we've made it all clear, can I leave?" You attempted to stand up, not fearing to go face to face with Descamps, as much as you hated his face, but that all stopped when he grabbed you by your hair. He grabbed a handful from the back of your head, earning a yell from you. You dropped your bag to the floor and used both of your hands to grab his wrist.

"Bitches like you never learn, do you? A bitch who sluts herself out for her seniors shouldn't have so much confidence." He threw you against the cold tiles of your classroom floor, your hair disheveled. You groaned in pain, holding onto your side. Thankfully, your arm managed to catch your head from colliding with the ground, but you still heard ringing from your ears at the impact. Tears began to well up from your eyes, shame running through your entire body of being at the end of the stick again.

You tried to stand up and run away, but before you could lift yourself from the ground, the sounds of chairs roughly scraping against the tiles filled the room. More people gathered by the door as Mattheo practically flung himself against Descamps.

"You fucking piece of shit!" Mattheo yelled as he grabbed Descamps' collar. You watched in fear as he mercilessly pinned the boy to the ground. You weren't used to seeing Mattheo with such anger on his face. He looked like he had no intention to stop unless someone forced him off of Descamps. You felt arms wrapped around you, making you turn to see Theo with the same expression at Mattheo, though he was facing Descamps' friends, who cowardly stood back.

Worry overwhelmed your nerves at the scene. "Theo—"

He grabbed your bag and placed a hand on your head where it was pulled on, causing you to wince. You couldn't tell what expression Theo had when he said, "It's fine; don't worry about him."

As if on cue, three other seniors ran past the forming crowd by the door. Two of them pulled Mattheo by both his arms while the other held down Descamps by his shoulder, keeping him on the ground. From the looks of what Mattheo did, he wouldn't be able to stand up without help anyway. The students watching, which only increased by the second resulted in even the windows being blocked, helped block the teachers making their way towards the scene. Your head ached from the chaos; the only thing you wished for was for all this to end and leave.

"Can we go, Theo? There are too many teachers outside." You looked over the growing crowd and said, "I don't want any of us to get in trouble, especially the two of you." Expulsion was the bare minimum punishment for what happened today, and you didn't want to cause not only your brother's education but also that of Mattheo, who only got involved because he had the misfortune of being Theo's roommate; nothing but guilt flooded your mind at that thought.

Theo nodded once he saw the teachers peaking over the students. "No one's getting in trouble except for that stronzo(asshole)," he replied, pointing over Descamps.

Theo lifted you up from the ground by your good arm, still carrying your bag, and fetched Mattheo from the two seniors by the sleeves of his uniform. Your eyes landed on the boy, instinctively grabbing a hold of his hand. Mattheo's knuckles were covered in blood, most probably mixed with Descamps and his. You knew that this would've happened even if things were to go as planned, but you weren't truly ready to see Mattheo in such a state.

Your chest pounded uncomfortably at every breath you took as Mattheo's calloused fingers intertwined with yours—you're sure it wasn't just the fact that the three of you were running away from the classroom to your brother's dorm.

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let me know if you wanna be added for the next part 🫶🏻 happy new year!

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[clubartaesthetic]

She fell first, but he fell harder

#mixte1963 #mixte #mixte edit #simone and Jean-Pierre #jean pierre magnan #michelle magnan #voltaire #voltaire high #mixte 1963 #simone palladino #anouk villemin #annick sabiani #baptiste masseline #fan edit #artists on tumblr #edit #aesthetic #tumblog #video #tumblr #video edit #video editing #editing #tv shows #tv series #edit tv show #childish gambino #les #video prime #prime video

[girlystories]

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

©ssnowville ©snowville

#:ssnowville #:snowville #[🌸] #joseph descamps #mixte1963 #joseph descamps x reader #mixte #mixte 1963 #:girlystories

[user2772636]

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