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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 month

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Behind Closed Doors

joseph descamps x reader

A/N: for anyone who cares

WARNINGS: smut!, light dubcon maybe, mean and jealous descamps

WORD COUNT: 1,082 words

You needed space. The party was getting rowdy and you were getting tipsy. You also couldn’t get the sight of Descamps shooting daggers into the side of your head out of your mind so you now find yourself an empty room, where you can kick off your heels and sit down. You still can’t figure out why he was glaring so harshly at you when all you were doing was dancing with some third year boy. He might hate you but you would have thought he would’ve been preoccupied with enjoying the party or at least, chatting up some girl.

“You shouldn’t wander off alone when there’s so many guys around.” You jump when you hear his voice.

“Screw off Descamps. I don’t understand why you can’t just leave me alone.”

“Who was that guy you were dancing with?” He grumbles, changing the subject.

“Why do you care?” You ask with a scoff.

“He was just a shit dancer.” You sense it in his voice… jealousy.

“Really? That’s all it is? Or are you jealous, Joseph?”

He looks pissed off at your insinuation but quickly pivots to careless amusement. “I didn’t realize we were on a first name basis.”

“And I didn’t realize you had a crush on me.” You tease, looking him right in the eye quite intensely.

“Why would I have a crush on an irritating brat like you?” He says defensively.

You ignore the insult. “You know, if you didn’t want me to dance with other boys, then you should’ve asked me to dance first. I might’ve said yes.”

“Of course you would’ve said yes, i’m the best looking guy in our class.” He puffs out his chest a bit as he says the pompous remark.

“The boy I was dancing with is also the handsomest in his class… and he’s a third year.”

He walks closer to where you sit. You try to look relaxed but he gets so close. His two fingers tilt your head up. “You’ve got such a mouth on you.”

The heat rises to your cheeks and you press your thighs together at the remark.

“I can think of a much better use for it.” His hand grips your shoulder as he coaxes you to your knees. “You know what I want?” He asks, palming at himself through his trousers. You nod, looking up at him through your lashes. “Of course you do. Bet a girl like you spends a lot of time on her knees.”

He fumbles with his belt buckle as you glare up at him. “If you want me to do this for you then you should stop being such a prick. You’re lucky I decided to do this.”

His cheeks go a little red but your scolding doesn’t make him any less hard. “Whatever.”

“Knew you had a crush on me.” You tease again.

“God, just suck already.” He pushes your head, fed up with your teasing. You wrap your lips around him slowly. You haven’t really done this before but you at least get the idea.

He whimpers when you start to suck him off gently. It’s clear that he hasn’t had this done for him before either. You think you’ll keep the fact that he whimpers in the back of your mind in case he decides to be an asshole at school again.

Descamps cums… fast with flushed cheeks and a groan. He’s clearly a little embarrassed about it too as you part your mouth from him.

“You would think that a guy who wanks as much as you do wouldn’t have this problem.” You say a little cruelly as payback for his light slut-shaming.

“The girl who just swallowed my cum should probably get down from her high horse.” He uses his hand to pull you up to your feet and then the same hand slips to your waist so he can keep you close.

“Tastes like shit.” You mumble.

“Hmm, does it?” He asks in an amused voice before he brings you in for a harsh kiss. “Tastes fine to me.”

He starts kissing your neck and before you know it, you’re pushed against a desk in the room. His hands roam freely over your body and one squeezes and gropes at your breast like he may never have the chance to do this again. Everything about his movement is inexperienced but very wanting.

“Ahh.” You gasp a bit as he nibbles at your neck, a distraction so he can slide his hand up your dress without you thinking twice. You then feel his fingertips against your panties. “Joseph!” You scold.

“C’mon just let me make you feel good. I just wanna return the favour.” He murmurs against your neck and you can’t refuse him.

His long fingers shove your panties to the side and he rubs them through your arousal.

“I didn’t think girls being this wet was a real thing.” He teases.

“Shut up.”

He rubs around haphazardly for a few moments before you guide him to your clit. Then it starts to feel good as he rubs around it in tight circles. He feels like a man as you moan into his mouth from pleasure he’s giving you. And when his fingers slip into you… you can barely keep yourself quiet.

“Yeah, you like that?” He eggs you on as he curls his fingers roughly against your sweet spot.

“Mmm, Joseph.” You whine and squirm from his rapid movements as you are used to a much slower pace from yourself. “It’s too much.”

“Really? Because with how your pussy is soaking my fingers, I would say it’s just the right amount.” He says, not slowing his pace even slightly.

He isn’t evil though, at least not completely, so when he sees how overstimulated you get after another thirty seconds, he goes back to rubbing your clit.

“See isn’t this just so much better than you being a brat all the time?” He smirks, not caring for your answer as he kisses you again.

“Oh, God. I think i’m gonna…” You spill yourself on his fingers, soaking his already damp digits even more.

“I knew you wanted it bad but I didn’t think you’d like it that much, doll.” He teases, pulling his fingers from you and licking them clean right in front of you. “Tastes delicious.” He murmurs. “Now, how about we fix you up and get back to the dance floor? I think it’s time we show everyone that you’re my girl.”

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

#mixte #mixte1963 #voltaire high #voltaire high x reader #mixte x reader #joseph descamps #joseph descamps smut #descamps smut #joseph descamps x reader

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naomiswonderland · 4 months

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Désolé

A week had passed since Michéle’s brother had punched the boy who had played a joke on her. Of course she felt anger and embarrassment when water soaked up her entire school clothes but now that her brother was on the brim of getting expelled and her classmate had possibly lost an eye, she only felt utter guilt.

Her mind was clouded with all the possible outcomes that could come with her brother getting expelled. Would she even be able to keep staying at her new school? Would her parents also blame her? My god, Jean-Pierre will hate me forever! She thought when suddenly an arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“Morning!” Simones smile was brighter than ever that it could even make her feel a little better. “Morning Simone” Michéle replied but her voice came out different than she expected. “Oh my, are you still thinking about that dumb boy? It’s been a week, everyone’s already forgotten all about him.” She reassured her friend although it didn’t help much. “I’m not really concerned about him but more about my brother.” Michéle dragged her feet to school which she dreaded more than ever, her teachers and classmates all assume that she’s stuck up and gets a free pass because of her uncle now. Way to start off the new school year.

Can this get any worse? She thought to herself. “Don’t worry. I’ll always be by your side.” Michéle smiled, at least one person was making her feel less awful. As soon as the two friends entered through the school gate it was chatter all over the place. Yet the real talk of the school would enter minutes after. There he was, Joseph Descamps with an eye patch covering his left eye. It was dead quiet while he walked towards his friends, not missing a single glance at Michéle. She felt intimidated and scared although she was convinced he wouldn’t try doing something to her again because of her brother.

For a week she had been trying to reassure herself that he had it coming and that it wasn’t really her fault in the first place. She pressed her lips together tightly, her brows furrowing as she glanced at her friend once more, a similar expression on her face as well. Arm in arm they walked to class silently even though Simone tried to change the topic from time to time it was no use.

Time had passed and Michéle was sat in Latin for her second period. For the whole day she had been glancing at Joseph from time to time, even though he pretended not to notice he shared her glances a few times which left Michéle embarrassed and scribbling on paper, pretending to do something. “I’m so not ready for pe in third period. My bruise is so big! You cannot imagine how embarrassing it’s gonna be if people notice.” Simone whispered. “I don’t think it matters that much. That’s noting compared to Jospeh’s eye.” Although Michéle hadn’t intended for her reply to sound funny , Simone who felt absolutely no remorse let out a small cackle which caught the attention of the teacher.

“Is something funny?” Mr Douillard asked with an irritated tone which left the girl’s shaking their heads profusely. “You can stand outside if my lesson is boring you two!” He demanded and pointed at the door. Good, got in trouble once again. Michéle shut her eyes tightly as she and Simone left the classroom to stand out front. “He really needs to tone it down a bit. So dramatic!” Simone exclaimed in a louder tone than necessary which made Michéle alarm her to keep her voice down. “We have thin walls here, he can still hear us!”

Not a second later the door opened and left Simone and Michéle wide eyed. Had he really heard them?! A tall figure with his hands in his pocket appeared in front of them. It was Joseph. His eyes landed on the red haired girl as he stood there for a few seconds, watching her play with her fingers. Michéle averted her gaze as he walked past them, his shoulder intentionally bumping into Michéles smaller frame. “Watch it!” Simone yelled in an angry tone. “Who does he think he is?!” But Michéle knew that he was angry and was probably going to let his anger out on her…

————————————————————————————

It was during break in which Michéle noticed her brother looking nervous and sweating profusely. Yes, today was his disciplinary hearing. “Are you even listening?“ Simone asked. “Huh? What?” Michéle looked at her friend that was sitting across from her. “No, sorry what were you saying?” “Ugh, I was talking about the new movie that just came out!” Simone’s voice faded into the background as she scanned the whole school yard but her brother was nowhere to be found. Then she saw Joseph walking to the bathroom, even though it seemed normal something was odd about the way he walked nervously looking around. As soon as their eyes met she knew something was wrong. Before she could do anything the school bell rang. “Simone you can go first, I’ll be running a little late, okay?“ “What? Why?” “Just go.” She said and ran to the boys bathroom as the yard was getting emptied.

Her hand reached for the doorknob when the door suddenly opened with a mischievous laughing Joseph. His smile disappeared once he saw Michéle standing in front of him. “The hell do you want?” His gaze was filled with anger and disgust. Gosh, he really hated her. “Oh, did you wanna go in for a quickie?“ he smirked but was met only with Michéles confused face. “Is my brother in there?” She ignored his weird statement and tried to look past his shoulder before the door closed. The only thing she could see was a broom locking a door and few faint yells. Panic set on Michéles face as she put the pieces together. “Did you lock my brother in the toilet stall?!” She yelled and tried to push past him.

“Oh no, leave my brother alone!” He mocked her voice as he blocked her way into the boys bathroom. “Stop it! Both of you!” Michéle and Joseph looked at Mr Bellanger who would definitely not let Michéle in or get into the bathroom as well. “Have you lost your mind? Fighting like this on the school yard!” “But Uncle, my brother-“ “I will be seeing him in the teachers office for his disciplinary hearing. Don’t make this any harder for him, Michéle. His options aren’t looking too good right now.” Michéle looked at him, brows furrowed as she felt the guilt she tried to suppress resurfacing and swallowing her whole. Suddenly the three of them heard a commotion in the bathroom and then a loud yell. The door opened and an angry Jean-Pierre was met with three surprised faces.

“I’m so sorry, Mr Bellanger. I was.. locked in the bathroom stall by this idiot! My Jacket, it’s ruined!” He stated. “Am I late? Do we still have time?” Michéle had never seen her brother this distressed before. He was usually so put together calm and rational but now she was causing him trouble. “You can wear my jacket and you two better get to class right now!” Her uncle exclaimed as she made her way to the gymnasium with Joseph.

“You’re horrible!” She stated and gave him a dirty look which he did likewise. He suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed the girl by the arm, yanking her back to him. His finger pointed at his eye patch. “I’m horrible? Look at what your fucking brother did to my face!” He said, his tone angry but he didn’t yell. “All because of you.” He whispered. “You started it!” She yelled and tried to push him off of her. “I felt bad in the beginning but now I realise you completely deserved it!” She retorted which only made Joseph tighten his grip around her arm.

“Let her go!” A voice appeared behind the two of them. Michéle looked past Joseph’s shoulder and met eyes with Laubrac. A wave of relief washed over her as Joseph let go of her and she quickly made her way over to her classmat. “Well if it isn’t the foster kid and the deans niece.” Joseph smirked, putting his hands back into his pocket.

a/n: i’m really not sure if this was written okay and I hope you guys like the idea! I really wanted to ask you for ideas but I thought I couldn’t keep you guys waiting any longer. Im really open for any visions and stuff that you guys have just comment them or put on my ask thingy (I’m not even sure I have one tbh). Just bombard me with some ideas I’d really like that<3 i hope you guys liked this

tags: @ssnowville @

#movies #france #aesthetic #french #joseph descamps #mixte #mixte1963 #vassili schneider #fanfic #x reader #joseph x reader #joseph descamps x reader #michéle #fiction #fantasy #alternative

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bonitr · 3 months

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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

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clubartaesthetic · 4 months

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She fell first, but he fell harder

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riaraa · 4 months

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No Angels by bellarkyy on AO3

A Mixte 1963/Voltaire High fanfiction about Michèle Magnan and Joseph Descamps

Joseph becomes obsessed with Michèle after she is the reason for him losing his eye. But, instead of hating her in the way he expected, he is beyond attracted to her. She won't leave his mind no matter what he does. And as he witnesses her begin her journey of figuring out sexual pleasure, he is happy to insert himself and help her out.

Michèle is drawn to Descamps, has been since the moment she saw him. He is tall and broad and once he has the eyepatch on, his attractiveness becomes exponentially more. With being around so many boys, something about her has changed and she doesn't know how to describe it other than feeling hot all of the time. And, one boy in particular makes her feel like she is burning: Descamps. When he offers to help her discover what true pleasure is despite their past, she can't deny him.

#mixte1963 #mixte #voltaire high #joseph descamps #michèle magnan #michèle x joseph #michèle magnan x joseph descamps #descamps x michèle #vassili schneider #léonie souchaud #mixte 1963 fanfiction #voltaire high fanfiction #joseph descamps fanfiction #michèle magnan fanfiction #michèle x joseph fanfiction #josèle #MJ writes

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admireforever · 2 months

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Mixte

#mine #screens #mixte #michèle magnan #léonie souchaud #alain laubrac #gaspard meier-chaurand #michele and alain #alain and michele #voltaire high #kiss #kissing #cinema #romance #60s #tv series #tv show #french

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lilienzoe · 4 months

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I NEED him!!!!!

#jeanpierremagnan #jeanpierre #mixte1963 #mixte #amazon prime #i need him

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visndcaitswhore · 4 months

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Amavi || Ch.2

That day Gabrielle conveniently lost her cigarettes, and she acted like the entire time she was supposed to be studying, she wasn't throwing glances at the closed window across from her every 2 minutes while tapping her leg nervously. To the point where her mom had to shout at her from downstairs because they could hear her heel thumbing on the wooden floor through the ceiling to the living room.

Her mind was racing about how to approach this when she just decided to wing it and go with the flow. She locked her door, buttoned up her shirt, which she usually had a bit too open when in the comfort of her room, and grabbed a matchbox on one hand and a tiny rock on the other before making her way to the window.

Gabrielle noticed the lights were on. Then again, she would wake him up even if they weren't. When the peddle hit the window, it made a sound. Not too loud, not too quiet to go unnoticed by the boy inside the room. Still, he took his sweet time to answer, and Gabrielle was left glaring at his curtains, head propped up on her fist, till he finally opened them.

He must have been sleeping or was simply tired. Those were her first thoughts and the first thing she noticed about him. Aside from the white patch over his left eye, It wasn't that bad, but it was different. Kind of made her sad. Not that it changed his face that much; it could've been worse.

"Finally. I thought you died," she remarked, opting to ignore the subject for now. There is no need to be soft and make things weird.

He flipped her off, and she smiled, knowing her decision was the correct one. "Toss a few."

He fished a few out of his pocket. "Two?"

"Four." He paused and gave her a look, making her shrug. "I run out."

"You never give me more than three," he pointed out, still focused on the cigaretes in his hand. Gabrielle watched him, remembering that her father used to have a friend who had lost his eye, and he couldn't really focus on objects for a while. He would try to grab something, but he could only grab air. It was something he got used to after adjusting.

"Next time, I'll give you five." She looked at the matchbox in her hand, reading the words she had written on it: "Plus, I have a gift for you."

She was aware it wouldn't do Michele any good, but something about him not being confident, even when he is being an asshole, and locking himself in his room made her uncomfortable. Maybe because he was never meant to be quiet, even when they were younger, he was full of life. It may not seem like it at first, but he was one of the few people she knew who was unafraid to live the way he wanted. Maybe she admired him for it, or maybe she craved that quality of his to stay in her life.

His quietness unnerved her. She was the quiet one; her quiet was familiar. That's why they had been friends, she thinks. She was quiet, and he never misunderstood that. He didn't misunderstand her loudness, either. She returned the favor, knowing that's just how Joseph was—he could bite.

Biting was something they both knew how to do. Heck, she was worse than him, blowing up and lashing out like a second language. Bruised knuckles and bloody noses brought her comfort, in a way.

So, late-night smoke breaks were needed. For both of them. And for him to go back to how he was, he didn't need just a gift or one of those magazines boys liked so much. Gabrielle was going to make him remember how to be spiteful.

He tied four cigarettes together, as she had requested, and threw them at her. They were a bit off the mark, yet Gabrielle caught them and made a show of counting them, checking to see if they were unsmoked, and one of them was a bit burned at the end of it. The girl held it up, showing him "Cheap."

He smirked unapologetically, resting his arms on the stone service of the window sill. "Still waiting for my gift." His words trailed off as he watched her place that one cigarette he had tried to smoke about an hour ago but decided against it between her lips, which made him unconsciously lick his.

"My mom is going to bring you cake one of these days."

Gabrielle lit it, taking a drag and letting the sounds around them fill the quiet. Just from the floor below she could hear her sisters laughing, talmking and running around. A few houses away there was a store, that sold the best pastries Gabrielle had ever tasted. even now, she could smell the croquembouche in the air.

He scoffed, "That's not your gift."

"I can't bake."

"I know, Cheri," he joked.

Gabrille laughed, remembering how she had created chaos in her kitchen a few years ago, to which the boy was a witness and was never planning on letting her live it down. Finally, she showed him the matchbox; he squinted at it in confusion, then looked back at her face.

Joseph didn't see how a matchbox was a gift, which made him curious in a way only Gabrielle could make him, but before he could question her, the matchbox landed on his chest, and he looked at it, pushing his hair back. He had been in the process of growing it out just at the beginning of summer, maybe because British girls liked it or because he had heard Gabrielle say she liked longer hair.

Whichever it was, the admission would only be heard by the wind alone in the privacy of his room as he lay awake in the middle of the night, his thoughts eating at him, wondering if the light in her room would shine and if he would seem too pathetically obvious if he went out to smoke.

There were words on the matchbox, written in black.

"You didn't find out from me." And he nodded, for his tongue was covered in something bitter as he remembered the older Magnan sibling. At the same time, an almost warm feeling spread through him as he looked at her. His missing eye made it harder for him to adjust to any distance or change in light for a while; therefore, this was the first time since they started their conversation that he could take her in.

Her dark curls, her olive skin tone, and her brown eyes with hints of green and flecks of gold. Her relaxed posture, leaning her cheek on her hand, the cigarette hanging from her lips—fuck, her lips—lazily .And he remembered the last time they hung out, and the bitterness spread from his tongue to the rest of his body.

Could the bitterness drown her away? Cover him completely so he can be free.

She smiled and said, "It looks good, by the way." motion towards her own eye.

No, probably not.

"I look like a pirate."

"Poor, pretty Joseph. Your handsome face scarred. How will you get through with all the girls checking you out?"

At least she did not mention Vincent Auriol.

The blonde laughed; his face was scarred; his head was a mess; his mom was distraught; and he had the audacity to laugh.

Gabrielle could never have guessed that the laugh wasn't because he was looking forward to all the girls being interested in him. But because he was cursing his luck for the one he wanted, he wouldn't be one of them.

The next day, when Gabrielle saw him walk on the school grounds, she gave Michele a look, and since Michele did not know any better, she thought it was simply because the brunette felt for her situation. It didn't even cross her mind; the look was an apologizing one.

At the end of the day, he lost an eye; it's permanent damage. Her consolation thoughts made her push away all guilt as she chatted with Simone.

Simone was definitely the easiest person to have a casual conversation with, though sometimes she took Gabrielle by surprise with her words. In her defense, being asked if you are a runaway princess from some dynasty would probably take anyone by surprise. "Since you are wearing pants so much, I thought it was because of horse riding." Simone explained, her cheeks heating up when the tall girl threw her head back with a loud laugh.

"And your first thought was that I was a princess?"

"Well, you wear them a lot." The Algerian made a motion towards her pants, with a smile that turned shy when Gabrielle leaned forward, whispering a secret:

"They make my ass look good."

The short-haired girl put a hand in front of her face, certainly not expecting her to say something like that. She had heard many boys comment on her ass, that's for sure, but it did not cross her mind that she cared about that. Gabrielle adding that 'it's not like my boobs on the big side' made her hit her shoulder, laughing.

After a while, she remembered she had to go put her gym attire on, which she was not going to do in the boys toilet, so she had Annick stand guard in case Giraud passed by. The blonde took her role seriously, insisting Gabrielle go change first so they could avoid any suspicion if she was spotted out of the girls toilets.

"We match." Gabrielle noted with a big smile as she put her hair in a high ponytail when Annick took notice of the muscles in her arms. Her mom had muscles too, but they were the type of muscles one got from working a lot, which were nothing like Gabrielle's.

"Do you work out?"

"My dad teaches me savate," she explained, walking next to her with a shrug. "I like it."

"That's kinda cool." Annick said, looking around, avoiding her gaze even when she could tell from her peripheral vision that Gabrielle had turned her head to get a look at her. She let her, mostly because a part of her was used to being starred at; she had faced worse gazes. Keeping her cool, her eyes landed on her, only to find the girl looking at her much differently than when men or spiteful girls looked at her.

Gabrielle threw her hand around Annick's shoulders; it seemed foreign for someone to do so, but her body refused to pull away. "I'll teach you if you want."

"I'll just have you do the dirty work for me."

The fact that Gabrielle nodded with clear self-assurance and no hesitation made it seem that she would in fact do something like that for her. Maybe she would do it for fun, even.

Walking inside the gym with Gabrielle holding her close gave them a strange sense of deja vu when all eyes landed on them.

"I think they are jealous of me." Gabrielle whispered in the blonde's ear, "I got the best girl in France."

"France?" Annick found it excessive to make her out to be the best out of every girl in the entire country, even when the corners of her mouth lifted slightly.

"Definitely."

Well, the gym turned out to be a disappointment since the boys were clearly having fun while they were stuck climbing a fucking rope, which can only be fun when you are 10 years old and don't know how to do so. Some stuff is fun till you find out how to do it; then they are just chores, a way for a teacher to give them something to do so he won't have to think about them too much.

Gabrielle was just keeping herself occupied by zoning out or listening to Simone's insane scenarios about Annick being some secret Hollywood star child. Though she had to admit she had thought about that one herself, she came to the realization that kids born to famous, rich, and accomplished parents probably wouldn't be good at anything; in fact, she doubted they would even care to try. The only time she felt like butting in was when Simone complained about a bruise that had formed on her thigh by absentmindedly adding:

"The love of your life won't give a shit about a bruise or a scar, Simone."

"What if he does?" She sounded absolutely horrified by the idea.

"Then he is not the love of your life."

At some point, the four girls had gotten tired of doing the same thing over and over again, so they just sat side by side on the blue mat, with Simone and Gabriele usually starting a conversation. Which didn't go great since Annick was her usual closed-off self and Michele looked like she was sitting on hot coals the entire time, clearly anxious.

Gabrielle kept an eye on her the entire time, mostly because she was used to it from keeping her younger sisters in line when her parents told her to. Well, and even if they didn't, it was her job to help them out with anything. It could get frustrating at times; that was the role of the oldest, though her elders would say. It was a role, and everyone has roles in their families, friend groups, and society in general.

Then Michele decided to start climbing the rope again to keep herself busy, and all that was left to do was watch the boys play. Gabrielle narrowed her eyes, wrinkling her nose as if a foul smell had entered her nostrils, knowing full well she could do much better than any of them. Applebaum proved her point when a ball hit him on the side of his head, which made her scoff and look to the side.

Coincidentally to her right, where her gaze diverted, was Descamps, whom she noticed had a smirk on his face and a certain, familiar spark lighting up his face. Nothing good, she knew. But at the end of the day, none of her business exists. Still, she watched him make a sign to Dupin, his partner in crime, and they snickered together.

A thought passed through her mind at that moment. Leaning her weight to her left, she whispered to Annick. "Is Dupin pretty, or am I crazy?" Who, mostly because this was the second weirdest comment she received in the past 15 minutes, rolled her eyes. "It was just a comment. Not like I would give him the role of class president in a silver platter!" Gabrielle exclaimed, offended.

Maybe it was also a dig at the fact she thought that Annick had every right to keep the date to herself, become class president and put Giraud in her place. She deserved to be at that position, she studied the hardest, got the best scores but Annick decided that keeping a low profile would be better.

"I don't know about Dupin, but his friend has been checking you out the entire time. Maybe keep your focus there."

A beat of silence. Annick looked at her straight in the eyes, while Gabrielle wondered if she could get away with getting physical with her like she did with her younger sisters.

Annick might be a proper lady but she was sure she would bite her if she even tried.

Gabrielle raised her hands in surrender with a laugh "Okay, I'm shutting up."

#joseph descamps #mixte #mixte1963 #annick mixte1963 #michele magnan #simone mixte #jean-pierre #fanfic

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funstealer · 3 months

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Mixte Joan of Arc Editorial September 2012 Tom Allen - Photographer Joanna Schlenzka - Fashion Editor/Stylist Jacquelyn Jablonski - Model

#Editorials #Joan of Arc #Mixte #Tom Allen #Joanna Schlenzka #Jacquelyn Jablonski

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girlystories · 4 months

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Two sides on the same coin

— pairings: Joseph Descamps x ex-rebellious reader

summary: you get expelled from your all girls school after an incident you get yourself into. cutting all ties with your troublesome friends, your parents send you to voltaire lycée in hopes you change your ways. an annoying prick, though, gets in the way of that, making you constantly on the verge of breaking your promise to your parents.

additional warnings: underage smoking, usage of foul language, mention of boobs ig?

authors note: very creative chapter title, ik. also really sorry for this late update, but i honestly don't haven't any excuse. it's finally here so I hope you enjoy. also i added a character from another movie cuz i can.

words: 3.9k

Chapter 1: The bastard with the dumb glasses

[Name] [Last Name] certainly wasn't expecting her first day to occur like this.

She fell down on her knees next to the wounded boy, who held on his left eye. He was whimpering in pain, making it obvious the punch he took to the face was serious.

Placing a hand on his back, she tried to receive any attention from him. She called out his name but didn't get an answer. Blood was dripping from between his fingers and his groaning increased before she was pulled away from him.

...

Lumière Lycée was nothing but a memory now, all what happened there only for the driven girl to want go remember, whenever she even wanted to. If she wanted to. She couldn't lie to herself and say it was a good time. On the contrary, it was a living hell for her. It wasn't a catholic school, but it was somehow aiming towards it.

She'd gotten in trouble one, two, three, or more times. Times she couldn't even keep track of.

Not that it even mattered now. No one would know of her past, her previous troublesome and somewhat rebellious nature in a place for her old school and only herself. It was a year ago from now, certainly she'd have changed from then. Or, in better words, she wanted to mask it deep inside. She promised it to her parents.

Moving schools meant moving overall, but she was sure she'd get used to the new environment sooner or later. Voltaire Lycée, the only academy daring to take things further and expand into a mixed school containing both boys and girls. Such a big change, things were seemingly passing so fast. It was the only thing the newspapers and radio were discussing about all day long for the past three days.

She was now brushing her hair, styling it while in her bathrobe. She added a small touch of makeup on her lashes, in a effort not to seem as tired from sleeping late the earlier day. Her anxiety forbid her from it. To bring some sort of color to her lips, she applied some chapstick. She didn't want to impress anybody, but didn't want to stand out by appearing like some sort of messy girl. That'd make a horrible impression. She opted to blend in with everybody else, which wasn't as easy since she was expected as one of the other few new girls. She'd stand out either way. How many girls would even attend that school anyway?

Either way, she hoped for a change. From having more than fifty absences, five to nine out of twelve marks, constantly snapping at her other classmates and breaking into fights, to becoming a lady with a future ahead of her.

There was a knock on her bedroom door, "[Name]," a soft voice called from behind it, "are you ready yet? Your father could give you a ride to school."

"No, it's okay," she got up from her chair, giving a last look at herself from her mirror. "I'd lather walk on my first day."

Her mother nodded and left without a word, leaving her to finish in getting ready.

[Name] opened her wardrobe, inspecting her clothes and in the end decided upon a matching set of a top and short skirt that she tried out the day before. Before leaving her room she wore her pair of Mary-Jane's.

She headed to her kitchen, where her parents were already awake, eating their breakfast before work. She took a seat and took a sip of her prepared coffe. "Good morning," she said.

Her father swallowed his own coffe before speaking, "Good morning. How do you feel about your new school?"

"Rather anxious."

"No wonder," her mother said. "A mixed school? It's a much troublesome shift from what we're used too. Wouldn't you agree, dear?"

Her dad finished his coffe, placing his mug down. "Well, we do what we can do. If only you would behave, [Name]."

"[Father name], " her mother glanced at him with knotted brows. "Don't start again."

He ignored her warnings, "Now make sure to get your shit together or else things will be really complicated. I'm saying this from the bottom of my heart."

"I know," [Name] simply said.

Her mother still kept an eye on her husband and sighed, turning her attention at her daughter. "Now you have a nice day, okay? Be home right after school or if you want stop by the bakery."

[Name] finished her butter bread, taking her bag as she got up and went to the front door.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she got interrupted. Internally groaning, she went back and kissed her parents on the cheek.

"Alright, bye," she finally said and left.

Since it was still early, she stopped at her neighborhood supermarket to buy herself a pack of Gauloises, thanking the owner and lighting one while on her way. Just then she realized she didn't know the way.

Minutes later she regretted not accepting her parents' offer to drive her to school. Cursing under her breath at her possibility of being late on her first day, she kept her fast pase as she took a turn on the street she thought the school was located.

To her utter luck, she was right. When she noticed the front gate inspector closing the door she jogged there yelling for him stop. He rose his head towards her, earning his attention.

He threw his cigarette, chuckling softly. "Lucky for you, it's your first day, miss, otherwise I'd have left you locked outside," he said and opened the gate for her.

"Sorry, it won't happen again..." she breathed out.

"Well, they haven't made their way inside. Mr. Belanger is giving a speech."

"Thanks," she said and walked hurrily where everyone stood.

On top of the building's stairs stood the school staff, the students surprisingly listening from bellow. She shoved herself between the crowd to catch a word he was saying.

"-Gentlemen, I expect you to...to be as polite, respectful, magnanimous and dignified as I know you can...when on your best behavior."

"Who is that?" she asked herself.

"The school's Dean," she wasn't really expecting an answer, yet a guy replied from beside her.

She nodded at him, staying silent for a moment before talking again. "Damn, I don't even know in what class I am."

"Don't worry. They'll call your name anyway."

Just then, a woman walked forward, holding a sheet or paper. "I'll now be calling the first-year's, then proceed the second year's due to the addition of female students."

"Just like that," he smirked and Mr. Bluebeard began reading the paper.

[Name] breathed out a sigh of relief. "Good. Because I was afraid of almost getting detention from being late."

He let out a laugh, "On your first day? There's no way a person could achieve that record. Not even me. I can assure you I've tried. I don't think you get detention from being late."

"No," she said. "I said almost. Wait, what do you mean y-"

The call of her name interrupted her question.

"That's your name, right? Seems like you're in class 1B."

"Oh, yeah," she said looking as some other students walked up the starts when their names were called. "See you."

She took a seat behind two girls, and as she did so smiled at them when they seemed to acknowledged her. Little by little everyone gathered in class, each taking their seats.

The woman that was calling out the students from before walked in. "I am Mrs. Giraud, your homeroom teacher."

Then, a girl with blonde hair entered the class, eyeing the empty seats anxiously. She had her hair styled with a headband that matched her dress which was beautifully complimenting her figure. It was no surprise everyone was looking at her with either admiration or a tint of desire.

She took a seat at a desk in the front, and [Name] felt somehow disappointed she didn't choose to sit next to her instead.

Mrs. Giraud noticed her gesture. "What's your name miss?"

She got up from her seat, holding her hands together politely. "Annick Sabiani."

"Where do you think you are, miss Sabiani?"

She didn't get enough time to respond at her question.

"Do you think it's okay to sit next to a boy?" she asked sternly. "Get your things."

She began doing so, but Mrs. Giraud interrupted her again. "No. You," she pointed towards the boy next to her. He looked at her for a moment and she continued, "Get up. Go sit in the back."

"But I can't see from there."

"Back row, now," she then looked at [Name], realizing she failed in noticing her presence before. "And what's your name, miss?"

She got up, awkwardly looking around the class and trying to ignore the stares. "[Name] [Last name]."

"You sit in the front."

She gathered her bag and did as she was told, still feeling the stares accompanied with whistling sounds and whispers. The boy tried to do the same, but someone put his foot in the way. That made him trip and almost fall, the group of boys laughing and making pig noises. "It's not your day, piggy."

The teacher did nothing about it, only complaining about being interrupted. "Quiet! As I was saying... Mrs. Giraud, with a "D" as in "discipline.""

[Name] wasn't listening what she was saying anymore, glancing at the person who was at fault of tripping the poor guy. He was grinning at his friend beside him, finding it wholehearted hilarious, like it was comedy gold. He fixed his glasses before he pretending he was paying attention to Mrs. Giraud. Instead he wrote a note and showed it next to him, the duo starting cackling quietly.

Next period was Latin, where she was met with Mr. Douillard. She ultimately ended up not having a really good idea about him, earning already a bad impression by him ignoring the girls when they raised their hand. She grew more and more annoyed when he pretended not to noticed her and she just stopped trying. Sabiani did not back down, though. Still, Mr. Douillard picked the only guy that had raised his hand.

"I think she raised her hand," the same guy with the glasses pointed out in a snarky tone. He pressed his lips together to hold himself from laughing.

Much to the teachers dismay of having to pick a girl student, he side-eyed Sabiani. "Indeed. So?"

She pushed her chair back, fixing her dress. "The Romans welcome Horatio with joy and congratulations and escort him to his house."

"The Romans "cheer" Horatio," he corrected, obviously not wanting to lower to the level of ever praising a girl, wanting to dismiss their existence entirely. "Can you conjugate the verb "ovare"?"

As Sabiani was answering, [Name] noticed the guy from before writing something on a paper, giving it to the person next to him and whispering something. The note was passed down until the teacher noticed.

"Give me that," he ordered, interrupting Sabiani.

The poor guy sighed and stood up walking up to the teacher and handing the note. From where [Name] sat she couldn't see anything but by the expression of Mr. Douillard she could tell it wasn't good.

The unlucky person sighed and stood up walking up to the teacher and handing the note. [Name] knew of him. He was Alain Laubrac, a guy who happened to be in the same gang she used to hang out last year. She stopped hanging out with them after her expulsion, when she was grounded all summer, cutting all ties with them thankfully. She hadn't spoke to him since like the rest. From where she sat she couldn't see anything but by the expression of Mr. Douillard she could tell it wasn't good.

"Think this is funny?"

"It wasn't me."

"Who is responsible for this masterpiece?"

No answer. The guy who drew it pretended he didn't know a thing, placing his pen under his bottom lip.

"Your name?"

"It wasn't me," Alain repeated.

"'It wasn't me'," Mr. Douillard sighed, "All culprits have the same name. They must be related. Okay, Mr. 'It wasn't me'...'"

"My name is Laubrac," he corrected.

"Are you the boy from the foster care?"

The whole class chuckled at that.

"Some nobody's son's trying to graduate? How amusing. Didn't anyone teach you discipline in the care system? I won't let a bastard disrupt my class. Get out."

"But he didn't do anything!" a girl with blond pigtails protested.

"Nobody taught you to raise your hand in your girls' school, Miss Magnan? Or maybe you think you have a free pass because your uncle is the Dean," the teacher mocked, hitting the paper on his palm. "Escort your new friend to your uncle's office. He'll give you detention too."

They both left the room with their heads low, the class filled with silence.

[Name] bit the inside of her mouth, raising a hand.

"Yes, miss?" the teacher complained.

"With all due respect, sir, but you're being really unfair," she said. Mr. Douillard was taked aback and she continued before he interrupted. "It was Picasso over there who did it," she eyed the glasses-guy from the back.

The smile he wore dissappeared, now glaring at her and preparing to argue something back.

"You've got a nerve talking to me like that, miss [Last Name]," the teacher said. "Don't think I haven't been informed of your performance in your past school. I'm not afraid to get you expelled here too."

The class suddenly filled with murmurs.

"Unless you want detention as well I advice you to sit back down."

She looked down and without having anything else to say she sat on her chair. Her grip on her pen tightened when she looked back and seeing the guy still stare at her, slowly forming a winning smirk.

Bastard, she thought.

Finally lunch came, and she exhaled a sigh of relief as she stood up from her seat, an instant need to stretch her body overtaking her. She only wanted to smoke as soon as possible, the necessity of nicotine calling out to her from not being present for a while. She closed her notebook and walked out the classroom as soon as there was space for her to walk through the students.

She walked down the big row of starts, avoiding in pushing the boy in front of her, but still having trouble keeping her patience.

Just as she was about to turn a corner she felt her face being hit with a flat surface, being jolted back.

"Woah, what's the rush?" she felt an arm on her shoulder and was met with a silly smile. It was the guy from earlier in the morning.

"Sorry," she said, feeling embarrassed. She allowed herself to groan, feeling free from expressing her feelings. Even in front of this guy she just met. "I just couldn't stay in that room anymore."

"I didn't know class 1B was that far off," he joked.

"You know anyone from there?"

"Certainly. I could name quite a few if you ask me."

"Ugh, then I'm sure you know. Speaking of, in what class did you end up?"

He placed a hand in his pocket. "2B," he smiled. "If my last name was different we could've been in the same class. Maybe then the school year wouldn't be so bad."

"Yeah, talk about luck," she played along his playful attitude. She didn't know where he was getting at, but he was at least tolerable. "Oh, hey, we haven't met properly before."

"You're right," he extended his palm, smiling at her. "Mick Travis."

She replied with her name, shaking his hand. "Mick Travis? Is that French or..."

"I'm originally from Britain, but I've moved here for a while. I don't know for how long but I'll do what I can in the meantime. Second year in this school and I can't wait to get out of here."

"Did something happen last year?"

"It's a long story," he said simply, changing the subject. "So, where are you headed?"

In the end they sat at a bench, under a tree to avoid the bright sun from blinding their eyes and having to constantly squint at each other. Travis sat sideways, his one leg crossed while the other was extended freely, his head resting on his palm, the other holding his cigarette.

[Name] lazily looked up at the tree as the wind moved it's leafs, making her almost fall asleep. "Are they gotta tell us something for not going to eat?"

"Hell no, I'm sure they know how ass the food is anyway. We're just saving our lives at the moment."

She hummed, putting out her finished cigarette.

"So," he adjusted his head, in a way to look at her. "What do you think of this school?"

"I don't know. But I hope this year passes quickly. Last year was the worst year of my life."

This peacked his interest. "How so?"

"Long story," she laughed when she realized he responded the same way before. "Maybe I'll tell you if I skip a class."

"Fine."

Break ended too quickly for [Name] to enjoy and she dragged her feet to class, with Travis having to sometimes push her while she groaned in annoyance.

She walked inside, making eyecontact with Sabiani and giving her a look of "I can't stand being here already." The poor girl only giving her a sympathetic smile in response.

She was about to sleep on her desk, when a commotion made her raise her head to see what was going on. Descamps and his friends – whatever their names were, she didn't even bother to know – were making a fuss over something, and she noticed quickly a bucket filled with water behind the door. Descamps grabbed it and attempted to place it on top of the door, ordering one of his friends to keep watch from outside in the process.

The class did nothing, and so did [Name]. It took her a while to realize that a prank was happening, so whoever were to walk in would get drenched in that dirty bucket water. She rose from her seat, throwing her chair back and scaring Sabiani from beside her. She did promise not to act out, in hopes of not getting unwanted attention from the teachers, but she had enough from that Latin teacher anyway. She wouldn't let anyone stop her now.

She walked up to him, pushing him and making him almost spill the water. He narrowed his eyes at her, before he flashed her a cocky smile. "What's that? Didn't you learn your lesson from getting expelled from your last school? Are you planning on doing the same thing here?"

She clenched her jaw at the nerve he had. He didn't even know of her, yet acted better than her. "I'll get expelled for this? You're the one putting a bucket on top of the damn door."

She felt a hand grabbing her wrist and she turned around. "Don't get involved, just continue sleeping on your desk like you were before," it was one of Descamps friends.

She snatched her hand away, "Don't touch me." Turning her attention back at the vile glasses-wearing guy, she attempted to take the bucket away from him, only for him to raise it over her head, mocking her in the process. She would've been intimidated by his height, but she was already used to scarier guys from last year. Descamps laughed at her unsuccessful attempts, then motioned something to his friend. He got the memo and held back [Name] by restraining her.

"Let me down!" she yelled, but they ignored her, finally Descamps putting the damn bucket where he planned from the beginning. She looked at the rest of the class, everyone doing nothing about the whole thing and staying silent in their seats. She made eyecontact with Laubrac, her eyes seeking for his help. He only looked away, hiding his shame.

The victim of the prank was Magnan, as the water completely covered her from head to toe. Her braids were starting to fall apart from her cute style. Her frozen body left in shock as she looked around the class, everyone watching her without reaction. [Name] felt shame when she realized the water made the fabric on her chest area visible, being stuck on her skin.

Descamps and his friends were the only ones breaking the silence in the room, chuckling to themselves and breaking out laughing, [Name] being no longer being held back.

Suddenly he swallowed hard and composed himself at the sight of Mrs. Couret. He looked at her nervously and placed both his hands in his pockets.

Mrs. Couret was in shock at first, but acted quickly, taking of her jacket and putting it around Magnan. She ordered [Name] and Sabiani to look over the class, but they knew that with both of them combined they couldn't control Descamps and his dumb crew. Moments later, they exited the classroom, headed to the nurses office.

If that wasn't enough, Descamps even drew on the chalkboard, being a picture of who she assumed was Magnan, her chest area being the most prominent. [Name] was about to go off again, but Sabiani grabbed her wrist instead, shaking her head at her to tell her to stop. After a bit of contemplating she backed down. Before she could even sigh in disappointment, a senior barged inside the classroom.

He pushed a guy from his way and swing at one of the guys that indulged in the "prank". Sabiani yelled at them to stop but it escalated even worse. Descamps went to defend him, and this lead to him being hit. In the eye area. Next thing she knew, he was kneeled to the ground. Everything had happened so fast, [Name] was frozen in place.

Without thinking she fell next to him, trying to get a look at his injury. It was pretty hard to do so, as he pressed onto his left eye, his back slouching more and more as he couldn't contain his pain anymore. His groans made him so he couldn't hear the girl from beside him, but the warm touch on his shaking body comforted him even for a bit.

[Name] felt herself suddenly being pushed back, and she calmed herself when she realized it was the Dean.

"Let me see," he said, crouching to Descamps' level.

"My eye...! I can't see..."

"Don't touch it okay? Can you stand up?" when he nodded, he helped him get up. He then ordered Pichon to get the nurse, but she was already there.

"He's got some glass in his eye," Mr. Belanger said softly at his wife, as she placed a hand on his back and led him outside, mentioning something about taking him to the hospital.

"Get back to your class!" he yelled at the students that were watching from outside the door. "Dupin, take your seat. Jean-Pierre, my office. You two, put the chairs back. You wipe that off. And you, clean that now!" he looked at the rest of the class, his piercing look sending shivers down [Name]'s spine. "Everyone else, take your seats!" he ordered and the tone of his voice made everyone do so without question. "Quietly!"

He sighed, "I'll leave you to it, Miss Couret," he said, giving a last look to the teacher that had just arrived before storming off.

The rest of the day seemed to pass way slower that before.

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