#Alain x reader

[minnlahzz]

Alain Relationship Headcanons.

requested.

alain, alain... i hate french people, but ig he gets a pass because his pokemon are sick!! sorry for the delay of this request, procrastination gets the best of me

alain isn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. he’s reserved, almost to a fault (dangerously nonchalant 😔🙏) and it takes time to understand how he shows affection. he’s not one for grand declarations, but his loyalty and quiet care speak volumes. you might not get a lot of words from him, but his actions leave no room for doubt.

alain would never confess first–not because he doesn't care, but because he's too cautious. (also because he doesn't know how he would talk to you about this, considering he's still young and doesn't want to look like a fool infront of you) you guys have a great friendship already, why ruin it with all that mushy stuff? even if it's obvious you like him back, he's not quick to make assumptions and sees this as your 'friendly gestures,' which definitely killed you as he ignored all your signs BLINDLY. so realistically you would have to confess first.

when you confess to him, he just zones out trying to process what you said. almost like he didn't believe that you liked him back. It would go something along the lines of this.

you weren't planning on confessing, and especially not today. it just slipped out of your mouth while you guys were hanging out. “i think i’m in love with you,”

alain blinked, turning to look at you like you’d just spoken gibberish. “what did you just say to me?” he heard it loud and clear, he just didn't understand why you said that.

“nothing!”

“...you’re terrible at lying.” (he likes you back)

for him, actions speak louder than words. that's why his love language is 100% acts of service. he’s not great at expressing his feelings, but he’ll go out of his way to do it for you. need help with something? already done. forgot your umbrella? he’s there with one even before it started getting cloudy.

alain is okay with pda, as long as its not excessive or like frequent. holding hands? sure, why not. hugs? yup! kiss? sure, but only on the cheek.

he’s very observant and notices things about you that even you might overlook. if you’re stressed or upset, he’ll pick up on it right away, even if you’re trying to hide it.

alain can be quite protective, but not the point of being overbearing. he trusts that you can handle yourself, but if ever someone tries to mess with you, they're going to face alains charizard!!

arguments with him are rare, but when they happen, they’re intense. he’s not the type to yell or lose his temper, but his stubbornness can make things drag out longer than they need to. he hates conflict, so he’ll sometimes shut down instead of addressing the issue right away. it’s frustrating, but once he’s had time to think, he’ll come back to make up.

dates with alain aren’t traditional, and honestly, they might not even feel like dates at first. like a walk through the streets of lumiose city or spending time at a Pokémon Center while Charizard gets checked up. it’s less about the activity and more about being with you in a way that feels natural to him. he tries his best though!!

he's not that romantic let me make that clear, but his silliness is somehow charming in a way. he does hilarious things without noticing, and he'd just stare at you confused on what you're laughing about. he's the type of guy who would give you flowers randomly and then say "it was on sale..."

one time, you walked in on him mid-rant about how the weather was today, and charizard was just sitting there nodding like it understood. when he noticed you, he got all defensive: “what? it’s not weird.” yeah, okay, whatever you say alain...

rating time!! 8/10 he's actually really fun to be around despite his cold demeanor and nonchalant dread head energy, he's dependable and genuinely cares for your well being, but his communication skills are through the floor because its almost non–existent! goodluck showing him to your parents...

[d3adbr3inc3lls]

Multiple | Celebrating Christmas | Headcannons

Characters - Spinel, Amethio, Silver, Kieran, Alain, Friede

Spinel

Christmas mornings with Spinel would probably start with him making you some breakfast in bed.

If the two of you are living in an area where it snows, he'll probably opt to cuddle with you, and cook breakfast whilst you're warming up in the shower.

With gifts, if he already hasn't given you what you wanted for your birthday -or hell, any time of the month- you can bet that he'll get you that thing you've been dreaming of.

Best part is- you don't have to ask. Spinel would already know, he keeps tabs of what you search and things you've mentioned that you wanted, so you don't have to worry about anything.

For the rest of the day, you might go out once, but for the majority of it, it's spent inside, watching a movie with mugs of hot chocolate in your hands, being surrounded by your 'mons.

Amethio

Usually, he doesn't celebrate Christmas, he prefers to use the day off for training rather than sitting around and celebrating the birth of a religious figure.

You'd definitely have to introduce Christmas to him. It's not something he participated in, but if it makes you happy, he'll gladly start.

His gifts are usually well thought out. Sometimes he gives you multiple gifts because he sees stuff that keeps reminding him of you.

The rest of the day goes like a regular day, unless you ask him to do something together. To which he'll happily agree to do so.

Over the years, he'll stop treating Christmas like a regular Tuesday because of you. He might still train, but he keeps the day centred around you.

Silver

Just like Amethio, he's not the type to celebrate Christmas at the start. He's obsessed with training and getting stronger to the point he neglects holidays.

Even after the games, he's not used to Christmas, he's always neglected it, but he buys you and his 'mons small gifts because that's what people do.

You'll have to re-introduce him to the whole holiday and you'd have to teach him how people actually celebrate it.

I can see him enjoying Christmas and getting more into it down the line.

With that being said, his gifts start off small whilst he's not used to Christmas, but when he gets more familiar with the holiday, I can see him going out of his way to buy bigger gifts. All the gifts are well thought out -like, starring at an object wondering if you'd like it or not well thought out.

The rest of the day is focused on you and your 'mons. The two of you go out to buy you and your partners some sweet treats and build snowmen or a snow angel or two.

Kieran

Kieran has always liked Christmas, he gets to give gifts and see people's faces light up as they unwrap his gifts and seeing the gifts that Delibird had given him.

After the events of the DLC, Kieran feels a bit too 'grown up' for Christmas, but he still loves to give and receive gifts.

Kieran 10/10 gets you whatever you've been wanting and more. He loves giving you gifts. If he can't get you what you want, he'll settle for a box filled with a lot of your favourite things. Your favourite sweets, plushies/keychains/stickers of your favourite things and if you're a trainer, he'll stuff some pokéballs, revives and anything else you may need on your journey.

All his gifts would be well thought out- he loves seeing you smile.

The rest of the day is spent with making snowmen, snowangels, snowball fights, probably getting sick and cuddling up at home with mugs of hot chocolate and maybe a movie on if you're up for it.

Alain

I can imagine a lazy morning with him, laying cuddled up in his side with his Charizard laying next to you for the added warmth.

When the two of you wake up, he'd probably take you out to a Cafe for some warm drink and breakfast before you guys go home and make gingerbread cookies.

His gifts aren't as thought out -maybe some are. But most aren't- he gets you a lot of gifts that reminded him of you.

Throughout the day, he'd bring you outside to build snow men and do other traditionally Christmas activities.

Friede

If you guys aren't spending time with the RVT/it's before the RVT has started, mornings with him would definitely include him waking you up so the two of you can have breakfast at your favourite place.

He's probably going to be too impatient to wait for you to open your gifts, so he gives you smaller gifts whilst you walk -or drive/fly- to the cafe,

The rest of the day would consist of doing whatever you wanted to.

If you guys are spending time with the RVT, He wakes you up Murdok finishes breakfast -he probably gives you some extra time to sleep in.

The two of you would be together for the rest of the day, but you'd mostly be supervising the kids as they go outside.

In both scenarios - gift wise, Friede would buy you a lot of gifts, all of them reminded him of you in some way.

------

Images found here

A/N: Merry Christmas (eve for some people) chat, hope you have a lovely day,

[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)

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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!!!

[willcmsv]

Soft Launch - Alain Laubrac x Fem Reader (ENG)

The story that follows is in English for my English Voltaire High's fans, French version is posted there!

Requested by @babydeersblog

Synopsis: You and Alain got to know each other at the beginning of the year, and were involved in a number of group projects, which helped your relationship to evolve over time. However, after being mocked when you confessed your feelings to a boy, you decided to keep them to yourself and no longer show any signs of love. But Alain unfortunately makes you feel something you'd like to find out more about.

Warnings: small changes compared to the series.

Notes: don't hesitate to recommend oneshot ideas - I write in English and French!

Since the beginning of the year, you and Alain have been exchanging words during your class hours. You have the habit of drawing him little drawings while he writes you quotes or jokes, depending on his mood. Since his fight with Joseph a few months ago, you have become Alain's sort of guardian angel, you prevent him from going off the rails and you defend him when you have the opportunity in front of Joseph and his friends.

However, for the past few weeks, Joseph can't help but tease you by pointing out how close you are and assuming that you love each other as if it were a game. But Joseph was like that. Everything was funny to him and everything was not serious.

When you come home on weekends, you have the right to participate to the private interrogation of your brother Jean-Pierre, as if Joseph's bogus questions weren't enough. For Jean-Pierre, you were and will always remain his little sister who he must cherish and protect. He stopped watching you grow up when you were nine.

“Who is Alain?” Jean-Pierre asked the second you set foot inside your house.

"A friend. Next question?" You answered.

Jean-Pierre frowned. For him, there's no way you're dating a boy. Simone had reminded him several times that you were seventeen and old enough to have a boyfriend, but he was stubborn and didn't want to know anything about the subject.

“Apparently no, that’s not what Joseph claims to say.”

"Joseph! Do you really believe him?! He's an idiot and he likes to start rumors about everything that moves. I thought you were more intelligent…" You affirmed, grabbing a glass which you carefully filled with water.

After your exchange with your brother, you headed to your room and discovered a letter left on your bed. It is signed A.L.

You immediately recognized the sender's writing and his sentences, which were always so original and captivating. You couldn't help but smile at each of his letters, at each of his words, of his actions. But although this should make you happy, on the contrary, it made you anxious.

Every night before going to sleep, you thought about what you really wanted. You had two choices presented to you: confess your feelings to him and risk being humiliated like before, or keep them a secret and perhaps lose the love of your life.

The love of your life, maybe that’s a big word.

On Monday morning, after leaving your home, you arrived at school a little early. You especially hoped to see Alain.

“Morning.” A male voice called out to you.

Without even turning around, you could recognize this voice among a hundred, even if it wasn't pleasant for you.

“Joseph, what else do you want from me?”

"What do I want from you? What do you want me instead.”

You raised your eyebrow, unconsciously glaring at Joseph.

"Even though the school doesn't know me by that name yet, I'm excited to introduce myself, Joseph the Cupid." He stooped down, miming a curtsy.

“Joseph the what?!” You giggled at this unpredictable news. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Do I look like it?”

My smile immediately faded from my face when I realized that indeed, he was completely serious. But Joseph, serious or not, is not someone you can trust.

“Go find another customer.” You responded, turning on your heel.

“Don’t you want to know what your dear Alain thinks of you?” A smirk formed on the blonde's lips.

“Not necessarily, and certainly not thanks to your help.” You declare.

"It's a shame, I know a lot about him and things that might interest you-" Joseph stopped in his sentence when Alain arrived.

“Are you okay Y/n? Joseph…” Alain gave Joseph a confused look. “We can already get ready for class, what do you think?”

You nodded and the two of them walked off into the hallways. Alain leaned against the wall.

“If Joseph bothers you, tell me.”

“It’s Joseph, he’s like that.” You declare.

Alain lowered his gaze, as if he was upset, and upset by what had just happened.

During the first class of the day, you couldn't help but glance at Alain who seemed so focused on the class. You were as focused on him as he was on his lesson that you didn't realize that his gaze was now turned towards you.

His blue eyes were locked on you. He didn’t even move when your gaze met his. Your cheeks suddenly took on a tint of pink while a smirk appeared on Alain's face.

At the end of class, you cross paths with Joseph again who begs you to accompany you home since you live near each other.

Alain, who was walking a few meters further, was able to see your silhouette and that of Joseph walking side by side. He couldn't help but feel jealous. Why did Joseph always have to be with you when he only dreamed of being in his place.

***

The next day, you and Alain had a science assignment to complete, an assignment that required you to work with him for an indefinite period of time. You were already looking forward to being with him, but strangely, you felt pressure, as if this was going to go badly.

You quickly walk towards the science room, seeing Alain who was already sitting on a chair at the back of the room.

"Am I late ?" You asked.

“We would rather say that I am early.” Alain smiles at you before pulling out a chair for you.

The work progressed more quickly than expected, both of them were focused, but took a few poses to discuss things more entertaining and fun than science classes.

“You and Joseph, is there…” Alain began.

You widened your eyes before answering.

“No, no! He’s just a friend, I’m not interested in him.” You hastened to answer.

Alain glanced at his notebook without saying a word, as if your answer didn't suit him.

His fingers held tightly to his pencil with which he was scribbling in the corner of his notebook.

Your eyes roamed his entire face, from his brown curls to the fine curves of his jaw.

“Are you okay?” You finally asked.

Alain’s eyes fixed on you once again. They moved down to your lips before coming back up to your eyes. Although he didn't speak, his gaze revealed so much more.

Your heartbeat accelerated and your lips itched with the desire to kiss him.

His face slowly moved closer to yours, your heart almost skipped a beat.

"Working hard?" A male voice blurted out.

You and Alain turn around with a start before seeing Joseph in the doorway. He smiled playfully at you like he did that on purpose. And you were sure that was the case.

"I need to go, Y/n. We'll meet up again tomorrow." Alain packed his things and gave you a brief smile before leaving, lightly brushing against Joseph.

"You find it funny?!" You declare.

“I thought you weren’t interested?” A smirk appeared on Joseph's lips.

***

In the afternoon, you went to the infirmary to take some medicine to treat your uncontrollable stomach ache. Before you could put on your vest again, the door opened to reveal Alain.

"Hey..."

"I- I didn't think I'd see anyone here at this hour." He affirmed.

His nose was bleeding slightly and you could notice blood on his knuckles.

“Did you fight?” You asked directly.

He didn't answer, his lips pursed and he looked away. Sometimes silence is louder than words.

You wet a cotton ball before gently grabbing his hand to disinfect it.

“It wasn’t me…I didn’t start it.” He whispered.

“It’s too simple to say that every time, Alain.”

He breathed in and out a silent 'yes' and gritted his teeth as you pressed against his wound.

The closeness between the two of you allowed you to hear his heartbeat and feel his gaze on you as you carefully disinfected his wound.

Placing the cotton on the table next to you, you felt Alain's still hand lightly brush against your thigh as you moved.

You bit your lip to hide your concern. Each of his movements, his looks or his words always gave you a feeling that was impossible to describe.

It had become more and more complicated for you to accept your feelings without always imagining the worst. However, you wanted things to work with Alain. You always felt butterflies in your stomach when you saw him smiling at you in the yard, or when he hid letters in your bag. Not to mention the times you could cross his path, like in the infirmary for example.

Everything led you to him and you felt something different, something captivating.

***

The next day, after classes ended, Alain invited you for a walk around town. At first, you walked in silence. Your interactions with him were never this awkward, and the mood was almost heavy right now.

“Sorry about yesterday…”

Alain turned his head, almost surprised that you apologized.

"It's not your fault." He answered briefly.

You bit your lip, you didn't know how to make the mood more joyful or even less morbid.

“Joseph is-” You start before being interrupted by Alain.

“It's still Joseph, Y/n. Except that Joseph takes great pleasure in bothering you, I notice that very well. You need to ignore him, because he's not going to stop so quickly. So make him stop, or I'll take care of it myself."

When he finished speaking, you couldn’t help but slip a short ‘no’ out of your mouth. You didn't want them to lash out like always.

You grab his arm to push him slightly towards you. Either you waited and perhaps risked the situation degenerating or ending differently than expected, or you took your courage in both hands.

Alain looked at you again with a look filled with desire. You didn’t know what exactly that look meant, but as much as you didn’t want to start imagining things, it wasn’t friendly in any way.

“I would like to have you to myself for once… to be able to act without someone cutting me off every time…” Alain affirmed.

You arrive in a small alley. You walked slower and slower, your bodies getting closer together as you went, until your hands brushed against each other several times.

Your two gazes met when you felt the other's hand. Alain walked in front of you and suddenly stopped, which led to you stopping too.

"Y/n, I wish you were more confident, you're pretty and smart. Don't hide or let anyone walk all over you."

Your eyebrows raised when you heard his words. Your cheeks immediately turned red despite the fact that you tried to hide them.

Alain slowly leaned towards you, his hand reaching out towards your arm. He didn't dare put it elsewhere and was mainly waiting for a response from you before doing so. His eyes lowered to your lips again. However, this time he didn't look away. Despite the hesitation, he finally placed his lips on yours and you immediately kissed back. His soft lips pressed against yours and moved in lockstep with yours.

A few seconds later, you both pulled your faces back and looked into each other's eyes before Alain gave you a soft smile.

“I wouldn’t have thought of doing that here… but it’s even better.” He smiled and finally placed a hand on your waist.

You were overcome by emotions and reached his lips again to kiss him. He pressed firmly on your waist at the same time as his lips pressed into yours.

His warm breath blew against your skin, and you felt it slowly speed up.

You felt his lips forming a smile against yours, and you couldn't help but smile back.

Once again, you felt a fluttering sensation in your stomach. His hand tenderly caressing your waist and the movements of your lips against each other only made you feel worse.

However, what you couldn't have known was that on Alain's side, tons of emotions and sensations were also invading his body and making his heart palpitate in rhythm with the beating of yours.

1758 words.

[icarustypicalfall]

me when Bayardo de Murgia and Alain Mesa

this pic is so cute i litterly want it tattooed on my eyes look at the cute smile, Alain's grin, Bayardo's cute little smile, the hand on the shoulder, the height difference, their clothes, their personalities, them ..

they re so cute havabajjajaj 😞❤️‍🩹

[natailiatulls07]

Prost legacy looks pretty interesting

I’m actually so excited to finish writing this fic!!

It’s about Alain Prosts granddaughter, Y/n and Oscar 🥰

Summary - Alain Prost, a legend in the formula one industry, has a granddaughter now and a certain Aussie has taken interest to her

Here’s a little sneak peek 😚😚

-

[allemantheias]

Alain is not Alejandro, but just IMAGINE Ale doing this to you. 🥵😭

[babydeersblog]

I’m so desperate for Alain Laubrac fics that I’m about to look in quotev, it’s bad, someone please write for him 🙏🏻

[rascal-xo]

I ❤️ ALEJANDRO

pretty please send in alejandro request i’m begging you

(angst, smut, fluff ANYTHING)

[soleilceirinen]

Ciao, amore (Tom Ripley x fem!reader) - Plein soleil AU.

Summary: Tom tries to convince you to return to America.

A/N: Plein soleil is one of my favorite movies, although I like the book (The talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith) this version is my favorite, perhaps because Tom is played by Alain Delon.

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistake and thanks for reading!

Warning: none besides typical sexist comments of the time (50s-60s).

MASTERLIST

Italy, 1959.

The soft summer breeze moved the white curtains as the sunset casted a golden glow to the room. It was exactly what you were waiting for. 

"Move your head a bit to the right, Tom," you said to the man sitting in your favorite armchair by the balcony. He obeyed but looked at you sideways. "Don't move."

He sighed, relaxing his shoulders. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the party tonight, Y/N?"

You shook your head, already focused on adding color to the canvas. 

Tom was one of the most gorgeous men you had ever seen, since the moment you saw him for the first time, you knew that you had to paint a portrait of him. If you were lucky enough, you could get a bit close to capture the exact blue of his eyes.

"I don't feel like going and pretend that I enjoy being there, answering their stupid questions and faking smiles. They don't even like me, they only want me for my father's money," you muttered as you added a bit of shadows to the painted version of Tom. "You could have gone with Marge and Dickie if you wanted, you can still catch them if you're fast."

"I thought you wanted to go, that's all," he said. You hummed in response. 

The both of you spent about an hour in silence until the sunset was gone and the golden light changed into darkness. 

"Are you going home for Christmas?" asked him, breaking the silence after a while. 

"You already know the answer to that, Tom. I don't want to argue again about this, alright?" 

"Alright, but you should think about it. Your family is worried about you, all alone and so far from home."

You frowned, taking the dirty brushes and starting to clean them with turpentine. The smell of it always made you feel a bit dizzy, so when they were clean enough, you headed to the balcony to get some fresh air. 

Tom followed you, positioned himself against your back, trapping you between his warm body and the balustrade. 

"Why don't you go back home yourself, ah?" you said bitterly, not expecting an answer.

He had nothing to come back, you knew that much. 

His insistence on coming back home was starting to bore you, mostly because you knew the truth. Your father, an utterly wealthy man wanted you to return to America and in order to do that, he had paid a huge amount of money to Tom to convince you. But there was no point. In Italy you were free.

"I will spend the winter traveling through Europe, learning from the great paint masters," you whispered dreamily. 

You had everything planned, starting with going to every Italian city to visit the monuments and museums, copying the greatest artists's artworks. You wanted to learn of the use of color from the venetians, the composition and the light. Your next stop was going to be Venice. 

Tom hummed and hugged you. He leaned his head on the crock of your neck and left a trail of soft kisses down your shoulder. You turned your head to the side to give him some more room. 

He was aware of his attractiveness, and he never doubted to use it in his favor. Your friend Marge always told you that she didn't trust him, that he was weird. You knew that he was sticking with you because he wanted a bounty but you didn’t mind. 

You were young, free and wanted to have fun, so as long as he kept you satisfied, you wouldn't care about his true intentions or his past. 

“I’m not going home, Tom, and this is the last time I’ll have this conversation with you or with anyone else. Am I being clear?”

He kept kissing you, cupping your breasts with his warm hands through the thin fabric of your dress. “It was just a suggestion, maybe you could think about it.”

Suddenly, you weren’t in the mood. With quick movements, you got rid of him and let yourself fall in the armchair with the skirt of your dress flowing gracefully around you. Tom stared at you, leaning against the balustrade. 

“I want to be an artist,” you said softly, playing with the hem of your dress. “And it is something that I can only achieve here. Coming back would mean getting married, giving up on all my dreams and becoming my mother, and that’s my worst nightmare.”

It was true. The moment you set foot in America again, your father would make you marry some stranger in order to increase your family wealthness, have children to inherit the fortune and live for the rest of your life as a housewife, as a trophy to show at parties. But you wanted to be your own self, an artist. 

Tom walked towards you and knelt in front of your legs, grabbing your hands in his bigger ones. “Marry me, then. We could go wherever you want, do whatever you want,” he finished kissing the back of your hand. 

You tried to hide your amusement with a pout. You liked Tom but you would never marry him. Your father would never allow it, you were the heiress of a great fortune and he had nothing, not that you minded but it would drive your father crazy. It was a good reason to do it though, just to annoy the old man, but you weren't stupid. Tom didn’t want to marry you out of love, he just wanted money. 

You caressed his chiseled cheekbones and leaned forward to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. 

“My father will choose the man I marry, and that man is not you, Tom.”

He frowned, trying to keep his face neutral but you knew that your comment had hurt him in a way that you could never understand. Tom let go of your hands and stood up, pacing around the room until he stopped in front of the canvas. 

“You know, Y/N, I’m your best option. With me you could do whatever you wanted, I already told you. By yourself you’d only be a woman. Nobody would take you seriously as an artist.” 

His cold words meant to cause you a similar pain than the one he felt moments earlier, but you counted on that. Whenever he felt hurt or humiliated he seemed to act like a wild animal. 

“I’ll use a pseudonym, a male one. That’s what we women do. We don’t need a man to be successful or independent, we are our own man.” 

Tom seemed to think about something, you could almost see the hinges inside his head turning. 

He was nothing more than a fortune hunter. Even when he tried to hide it under sweet whispers in the night, or soft caresses, the coldness was still there, it never felt real. Instead, wherever Tom was, it felt like he was playing a role. You hadn’t met the real Tom yet, and you doubted that you would ever do. 

For now, you could just play dumb and pretend that you were unaware of his true intentions. After all, you were young and most important, free. The new decade will come soon and you’ll try to enjoy your youth traveling around Europe and making memories with the people you would find in the way. 

Tom would stay by your side until one of you two got bored of the other. To him, you were just the goose that laid the golden eggs. To you, he was nothing more than a pair of blue eyes with some pretty things to say.

You sighed and stood up, walking to him and hugging his waist. “Let’s not fight, alright?”, he was staring at his portrait, with his jaw clenched. “Tom, if you are still in Italy by the end of next month we can go together to Venice. How does that sound?”

Slowly, you felt his muscles relax in your embrace. It could have been unnoticed but you saw him nod. “Venice sounds perfect.”

[user2772636]

Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

Having to be in pairs for a group project, two people with mixed feelings work together to create a presentation. Going into eachothers houses is easy until a certain cat wants to play cupid. Feelings erupt, and miscommunication has to be endured. A soccer game in the rain might prove that Descamps listens more than he should.

===

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: bullying (poor pichon), boys being boys, very confusing feelings, angst bcs of achilles and patroclus (maybe even joseph and reader???), miscommunication in the enemies to lovers department, swearing

This chapter has references to The Song of Achilles book (ik its not the right timeline, but we have to do this for the angst so bare w me)

===

===

Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say

===

The scores of our exams are being published. I sit in my seat, eyes scanning the numbers and fingertips smoothing out the paper. Most of them are in the ranges of 12-16, which is good enough for me.

"As you know, this is a school where we like to experiment with new methods. Next week, we are going to try a new approach." I look up from my papers, interested in the proposal of something new.

"You're going to prepare a presentation, working in pairs. You'll be working with the classmate sitting next to you, and then you'll present your work in class together. And for a sense of free will, you can present about any subject. How does that sound?"

I look to the girl next to me. Her name was Louise. She's quiet most of the time and keeps to herself. I smile softly. She smiles back.

The teacher clears his throat, eyes on Descamps and Dupin. "You two, of which I already expect a chaotic presentation, will be paired with someone else." His eyes land on me and Louise. Please, no.

"Descamps and Pardine, Louise and Dupin. Please remember your partner." I internally groan, placing my head into my hands. I look to my side, already seeing Louise and Dupin waving to each other, Louise giggling. I groan again. I don't look at Descamps. He doesn't, either.

Pichon raises his hand. "What if we're sitting alone?" The class laughs. I look at Pichon in pity.

"Well, you can work with Ms. Sabiani." The teacher says in response.

"Look. Pichon is blushing. He's turned pink like a pig." Dupin says, and the class laughs again. Even Louise giggles. She likes him, it's obvious, but what is there to like? I roll my eyes.

"That's enough, Dupin." The teacher shouts at him, the smile on his face gone. Annick raises her hand.

"Do we really have to work in pairs?" She asks.

"That's the whole point." He answers. "And I'm warning you, half a pair's work will result in half the grade."

××《☆》××

As I walk down the stairs, I look up when I hear pigs oinking. I wasn't wrong. Descamps' group of friends are pigs.

When I spot Simone and Michèle in the bench under the tree, our usual spot, I make my way to them.

"Help me gain some decency to go up to Descamps and not punch him in the face." I groan as I sit on the bench with them.

"It's unfortunate for you. Our teacher could've picked anyone else." Michèle says, pity in her voice.

"Should I go talk to him now or later?" They don't answer because they see Descamps make his way towards us.

I fight the urge to start an argument with him. About anything, really. Just to get him to stay a bit longer. I clear my throat at the thought.

"Your place?" He says, now standing infront of us, hands in his pockets. I nod once, and he walks away.

"Thank god that was over quick." Something deep inside me knew I didn't mean that.

Jean Pierre walks towards us with a book in hand. I look at Simone with a teasing smile, but there's something in her eyes I can't really tell. Like she knows something.

"Here, this is yours." He hands Michèle the book. "I put it in my bag by mistake." Michèle thanks him. He walks away with a 'see you later'.

Michèle continues to complain to us about her grades. Simone sighs, mind floating away. I look at her confused. I'll ask her about it later.

I look towards Applebaum. We make eye contact, and I smile. He looks away, fear in his eyes. What's up with everyone today?

××《☆》××

In one of those rare moments, my parents are home for dinner. We sit in the dining table, enjoying our food.

"Someone's coming over tomorrow. I know you won't be here, but I thought it'd be better if you knew." I tell them, handing small bits of food to George.

"Oh? What will you be doing?" My father asks, cutting his food into smaller pieces.

"Group project. We'll probably just stay in my room." I pet George as he eats his food.

"Are we going to meet her even after the project?" My mother says, looking up from her food.

"He, actually. And no." This makes them pause, silence surronding the room. My father clears his throat.

"A boy? And both of you will be in your room?" He says, placing his elbows on the table.

I take time to process this. "Papa, no. It's not like that." I turn red in my seat. "Trust me, it's just a project. Nothing else."

"Of course we trust you. It's just, you know. You're a teen, and teens go through... stuff." My mother says, stuttering a bit. I cover my face with my hands.

"Mama, please don't make it weird." I groan.

"No, it's perfectly normal for your age. If you want, we can forget about it-" I cut her off.

"Yes, please. Forget about it." I cut my food aggressively, face as warm as my plate.

We stay quiet as we finish the rest of our dinner.

××《☆》××

"The league of nations, L.O.N..." I fade the rest of the discussion out, watching the way the sun rests on the trees leaves, the birds tending to themselves. Last nights conversation clouds my mind, and I catch myself smiling for no reason.

I sigh every time, biting my lip in my own embarrassment. I glance at Descamps. He's focusing on the lesson for once. Nothing will happen at my place, right?

He feels my gaze on him and gently turns his head. His eye meets mine, and there's a small quirk on the corner of his lip.

"Quiet at the back." Ms. Giraud calls out suddenly.

Descamps looks away. I purse my lips, something stirring in my chest. My breathing is faster, and I feel warmer. Have I gotten sick already?

Annick walks into the room, hair tousled and frizzy. Ms. Giraud shouts at her, and my ear drums are about to explode.

Ms. Giraud gives Annick detention, and with every word Annick said back, an hour or two more.

Ms. Giraud continues to piss me off every second of the day with her strictness and very clear jealousy towards Annick. She finally continues the discussion, and I (annoyingly) decide to finally listen.

××《☆》××

I wait right outside the gate for Descamps. He comes running to the gate but slows down when he sees me, acting like he wasn't just leaping to get here.

"Hey." He says, acting nonchalant. He even has his hand in his pocket.

"Hi. Let's get going." I keep my face blank as I lead the way to my place. We walk in silence, listening to our footsteps next to each other.

Once we make it to my flat's building, I go up the steps, stopping in front of my door and unlocking it.

We step inside, the flat looking warm with the sunlight entering through the windows. I lock my door and drop the keys on my kitchen counter.

"Your coat?" I reach my hands out. He throws his coat to me, the heaviness of it making me stumble. I scowl but hang it anyway.

"Head to my room. Down the hallway to the right." I say as I grab a few supplies from my father's office.

"Want me in your bed already?" He calls out once he's inside. I hear a yelp.

I run to my room. "Descamps, are you okay?" I ask worriedly. He stares at George.

"What is that?" He points to George, who's currently walking toward me. I bend down and pet him, planting a kiss on his head.

"This is George." I carry George and craddle him like a baby. I walk towards Descamps with the furball in my arms. I rock him slowly.

"You can touch him if you want. He doesn't bite." I smile at the orange cat, then look up at Descamps. He's staring at me with the most soft look I've seen him wear. My heart thumps in my chest.

He clears his throat, hand going up shakily to pet George. George purrs when Descamps pets him. There's now a smile on Descamps face, as warm as his stare.

I bite my lip at the proximity. I memorise as much as I can about him.

The way he was breathing, like he was on a bed so soft he could sink into it. The way he smelt like faded cigarette smoke and expensive cologne. The way his bones moved under his skin as he bent over to take a closer look at George. The number of times he's blinked, the number of times he's laughed under his breath.

I dive deeper into my trance as he looks up at me. The way he stared now is so different from the way he did all those times before. Like we knew something that we haven't acknowledged yet. Or chose not to.

Something falls in the kitchen, and we snap back to reality. My face warms up, the lighting from the windows making it clearer.

Descamps walks away from me, clearing his throat again. "The cat's ugly." This makes me snap my head to his direction.

"What did you just say?" My brows furrow, defensive of the cat sleeping in my arms.

He rolls his eye. "Nothing. Let's get the project started, I guess." I glare at him for a couple more seconds, then I gently place George down on the bed, excusing myself to get more stuff from my father's office.

When I'm halfway to my room, I hear whispering. I peek at the slit on my door, wondering what was happening behind it.

Descamps is petting George, whispering words as if he's hushing a baby to sleep.

My aura softens, and my heart bursts with admiration. I accidentally drop something and curse to myself. Descamps hears the thud on the floor and pushes himself away from George. George continues to sleep.

I open the door then close it gently. "Let's get started."

××《☆》××

"Do you have suggestions?" I ask Descamps. He doesn't answer, his head turned to the side. I sigh.

Before I could say anything, he talks. "What's that?" He nods to the book on my shelf. It was a copy of the story of Achilles and Patroclus, with a notebook strapped on the front.

"It's nothing important." I shake my head. He purses his lips in thought.

"Can I see it?" His question catches me off guard, his head finally turning to look at me. No one's ever showed interest in my books or notes. I stay quiet, then after a while, I nod.

He gets up from the bed and grabs the book. He takes the string that attaches the notebook to the copy off. He scans the back of the book and hums.

"We can base the project off of this, if you don't mind." He holds up the paperback and the notebook. I'm stunned in my place.

"It's really not that interesting-"

"It must be if you had a whole notebook dedicated to it." There isn't even a teasing tone when he said that. He meant it genuinely.

"Fine." I sigh, grabbing the notebook from his grasp.

"Good." "Great." "Amazing." "Piss off." "Whatever."

"Mind if you read it to me?" He says. "I have a feeling I'll understand better when you say it, since it's your work."

I nod, hesitantly. I opened the first page of my notebook. Most of the stuff I've written in it is a summary and a review of the book.

He leans back on my pillows. I let him. I started to read.

"Patroclus was a young prince, exiled from his kingdom for accidentally killing a boy, and was taken in by their neighbouring king, King Peleus."

George purrs as I pet him. I shift to a more comfortable sitting position. Descamps' eyes are on me.

"When Patroclus first saw Achilles, it was in a competition run by Patroclus' father. He described Achilles as if he was looking at a painting made with precision and grace." I flip the page. George walks over to Descamps' lap. I huff, ignoring it.

"When they met and officially talked, Patroclus thought he'd hated Achilles. Achilles and his beauty, his speed, his perfection. In the years that pass, they grow to be attached to the other." George meows. The meow that indicates he wants petting.

I pause my reading, and Descamps looks at me confused. "Why'd you stop?"

"George wants pets." Descamps makes an 'oh' sound and pets George. He meows again.

"Maybe he wants you." Descamps says, petting the fur baby on his lap. I sigh and lean in close to pet George. With the uncomfortable position, I shift to sit beside Descamps on the bed. I clear my throat and pet George. I continue to read.

"They knew everything about each other. What they'd prefer, like how I like the rain too much to cover it with an umbrella, but know I'll get sick without it. That's how the two worked. They knew every detail, every routine, every habit, every movement. A love you'd have to fight the gods for."

A page is flipped, smoothing out of paper echoes in the room.

"Achilles and Patroclus loved each other with every inch of their heart and soul. Quoting the book, Patroclus states, 'He is half my soul, as the poets say'. Along with the famous paragraph." My eyes switch to the next page.

Descamps shifts in his place, leaning back on the pillows, looking at the pages where I'm reading off of. I start to relax, leaning back, too. George purrs.

"I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."

I take a glance at Descamps, and he's already looking at me. George snores in his sleep, making the aura of the room warmer. More comfortable.

His eye dropped to my lips, and I could've sworn I was hearing a heartbeat as fast as the wind at fall. I glance at his, pink and soft, like a cushion ready for rest.

When we lean in, slowly, too slow, my heart drops as he pulls away and stretches. I furrow my eyebrows, a dread of realisation. He's been toying with me. I close my notebook and gather my things.

"Where are you off to?" He asks. I don't answer him.

"Hey," He grabs my arm. I take it back from him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." I say coldly. "I'll finish this project myself."

"What? No. This is a group project remember?"

"I can't keep doing this. You're too hard to work with." I stack the books and materials in my arms.

"We haven't even gotten anything done yet." He flops his hands in the air.

"Exactly. You're too distracting."

"What did I do? I've been quiet the whole time."

"Yeah, well, that's the problem. You're too quiet. You aren't suggesting things."

"What does that have to do with anything?" He raises his voice.

"Just shut up, okay? Just leave. I told you I'll finish the project by myself." I get up from the bed, heading to my father's office.

"But I don't get why you're suddenly mad!" He stands up, following me.

"You don't have to know. Just leave me alone, okay?"

"Fucking fine. You're being too stubborn anyways. Do all the work. Getting pissed off for no fucking reason." He grabs his coat from the rack, putting it on. He doesn't even glance at me, opening and shutting the door with a loud slam.

I even out my breathing. It was going fine. Then I think to myself, what was? Me and Descamps, going fine? I laugh at the thought. I hated that boy. I hated him with my whole heart. My mind travels to the notes I was just reading.

Patroclus had thought he hated Achilles in the start, too. I shake the thought out of my head, slipping against the wall to sit on the floor, knees to my chest.

I hear tapping on the floor boards. I look to my side to see George, meowing softly. I take a deep breath in, then reach my hand out to pet him.

I hate him. And I know I do. He lingers in my mind like a fog in the mountains. The way his aura had softened, his smile, his warmth. I hated the thought of him, but then he smiled, and like Achilles, his face was like the sun.

××《☆》××

Night comes, and I lay in my bed, windows slightly open for the wind to come through. I'm restless, not getting a blink of sleep. I'm halfway through the project already. If Descamps had helped, it'd take longer, I think to myself, trying to still feel angry.

I don't feel angry at all anymore. There's a sort of regret in me for pushing him away. But at the same time, it's what he deserved. We had leaned in, and I didn't even know what I was expecting. I should've expected him to pull away, but what was he going to do in the first place?

Was he going to whisper in my ear? If so, what would he whisper to me? Was he going to say something about how I write, how I speak? A thought so blurry pops up in my head, and I brush it off. But it felt warm, so safe, so soft. There was a scent stuck in my head as I reminisced on the thought, trying to figure out what I was thinking.

I fall asleep in the process, dreaming about the thought instead. Limbs touching, bending, adjusting. I taste cigarettes and strawberries. I smell smoke and expensive perfume. I feel something soft against my lips, hands cupping my face, my neck, my head, and my waist.

He felt warm, tall, and heavy against me. I hold onto the dream, relaxing.

××《☆》××

I wake up, sweat coating my skin. George sits on the window sill, the sun making him shine like gold. I sit up and stretch. I get off my bed and head to my bathroom.

My hair is messy, and I have a bit of dried drool on the corner of my mouth. I wash my face to give myself some energy. I take my clothes off lazily, tying my hair up and getting inside my shower.

Once I finish, I comb and fix my hair, head to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, grab my things for school, including the unfinished project, and head to the front door.

A stack of paper tied with string greets me. I furrow my eyebrows. There's no note. I squat down and pick it up. I instantly know who it's from.

It's an essay about Achilles and Patroclus, detailed and opinionated. Written on the last piece of paper, sitting at the bottom of the stack, it reads, "I bought a copy. Finished it for you."

I stood still, processing the words, flipping through the papers to double check if they're authentic. I let out a scoff of surprise. My head snaps to a nearby clock. I'm going to be late if I don't start walking now.

My feet carry me to the front gates of Voltaire, the familiar faces and light chatter calming me. I spot Simone and Michèle, and I make my way to them.

××《☆》××

Rain starts to fall. The rain always brought me comfort. The different sounds it made when hitting different objects, the way it sways with the wind, the smell it gives the grass after.

I lag behind Simone and Michèle as they make their way to the field. I look for my satchel, then remember I'd forgotten my umbrella. I curse to myself, finding the satchel. It felt heavier than usual. I look inside, then see a clear umbrella. I open it and twist it around, gaping in awe. There's a note in the bag. I open to read it.

"Don't get sick from what you love." The note said.

There's only one person I've told about my love for rain.

I head outside, hiding my red face once I see a drenched one-eyed boy. I smile to Simone and Michèle, spotting them seated on a bench. I glance behind me as I sit down, finding an eye already looking at me with a small smile. His smile drops, and he looks away when I catch him. I purse my lips.

We watch the match, getting my mind off of the boy with ash brown hair. Once the match finishes, we all make our way home. I look up, seeing the rain pattering against the clear umbrella. I smile, watching the water droplets slip off the plastic, hearing the pattering of rain.

××《☆》××

The next day, I repeat my routine. I thoroughly read through Descamps' essay, rewritting it to fit in with mine. I should be thankful, and I am, but Descamps is making my head hurt with the way he acts. I walked to school, going subject after subject, until our presentation finally came.

Earlier, I'd slipped him the script, tucking it in his bag. I hope silently that he's memorised it.

Annick and Pichon are presenting in front of the class. I smiled softly, impressed by the presentation, and refreshed with the dynamic of the two. If only things had gone differently with Descamps, we could've been good friends. But we aren't. I don't think we ever will.

Once they finish, our teacher calls me and Descamps to the front. My anxiousness radiates off my body. Simone and Michèle give me a reassuring look. I nod at them slightly.

My eyes meet Descamps, and we're standing at the front of the class. They're quiet, and my eyes scan all of them. Surprisingly, Descamps starts.

"Me and Pardine are going to present the story of Achilles and Patroclus and the debate of their relationship; romantic or platonic?" Descamps looks at me, his hand hovering at the small of my back for support.

I start, and faster than I thought, I finish the presentation. The room claps, as they do with the others. I glance at Descamps but see him already walking back to his seat. My smile dropped slowly, remembering I was still on his bad side, and vice versa.

I walk back to my seat quietly. I don't even hear the score because my mind is too occupied with the thought of him. Would we stay angry at eachother always? At the same time, it shouldn't matter. I hate him. Right?

I shake my head. I hate him, surely. I should. I dig deep in my head for a reason. Bullying Pichon and Michèle, toying with my feelings (feelings I'm not aware whether it's good or bad), the way he acts, and smells, and feels when he's near.

I fucking hate him. I really do. I hate him, I repeat in my head. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.

Then, like earlier, something inside me knows I don't mean it.

At the end of the day, I make peace with solitude. My mind wanders, and I notice that every time it does, they always end up with the face of a one-eyed boy.

Sure, Descamps gave me a finished essay for our project, and sure, he gave me an umbrella that was clear so I could see the rain. So what? I still hate him. Maybe just a little less now.

××《☆》××

End- Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say.

Next- Chapter four: Flashy Magazines

××《☆》××

End of chapter three. Rollercoaster of emotions this one. It's a bit shorter than usual because i took out a bunch of the scenes in the series to focus on the emotions of reader and hopefully u guys get what im trying to give. Thanks for reading, requests r open, and see u next chapter!!!

[willcmsv]

Soft Launch - Alain Laubrac x Fem Reader (FR)

The story that follows is in French for my French Voltaire High's fans, English version is posted there!

Requested by @babydeersblog

Synopsis: Alain et toi aviez fait connaissance au début de l’année et aviez été associé à plusieurs travaux de groupes, ce qui a permis de faire évoluer votre relation au fur et à mesure. Cependant, après avoir été moqué lorsque tu as avoué des sentiments à un garçon, tu as décidé de les garder pour toi et de ne plus faire transparaître des traces d’amour. Mais Alain te fait malheureusement ressentir quelque chose que tu aimerais découvrir davantage.

Warnings: petits changements dans l'histoire de base.

Notes: n’hésitez pas à me recommander des idées de oneshots — j’écris en anglais et français!

Depuis le début de l’année, Alain et toi vous échangez des mots durant vos heures de cours. Tu as l’habitude de lui faire des petits dessins pendant qu’il t’écrit des citations ou des farces, dépendant de son humeur. Depuis son combat avec Joseph il y a quelques mois, tu es devenue la sorte d’ange gardien d’Alain, tu l’empêches de déraper et tu le défends lorsque tu en as l’occasion devant Joseph et ses amis.

Cependant, depuis ces dernières semaines, Joseph ne peut s’empêcher de vous taquiner en rappelant comment vous êtes proches et en assumant que vous vous aimez comme si cela était un jeu. Mais Joseph était comme ça. Tout était drôle pour lui et tout n’était pas grave.

Lorsque tu rentres à la maison les week-ends, tu as le droit à l'interrogatoire privé de ton frère Jean-Pierre, comme si les questions bidons de Joseph ne suffisaient pas. Pour Jean-Pierre, tu étais et resteras toujours sa petite sœur qu'il doit chérir et protéger. Il a arrêté de te voir grandir à l'âge de neuf ans.

"C'est qui Alain ?" Demanda Jean-Pierre la seconde où tu déposas ton pied à l'intérieur de ta maison.

"Un ami. Question suivante ?" Tu répondis.

Jean-Pierre fronça les sourcils. Pour lui, hors de question que tu sortes avec un garçon. Simone lui avait rappelé plusieurs fois que tu avais dix-sept ans et que tu étais assez grande pour avoir un copain, mais il était têtu et ne voulait rien savoir concernant ce sujet.

"Apparemment non, ce n'est pas ce que Joseph prétend dire."

"Joseph ! Tu le crois vraiment lui ?! C'est un idiot et il aime lancer des rumeurs sur tout ce qui bouge. Je te croyais plus intelligent…" Tu affirmas en attrapant un verre que tu remplis soigneusement d'eau.

Après ton échange avec ton frère, tu te dirigeas vers ta chambre et découvre une lettre déposée sur ton lit. Elle est signée A.L.

Tu as reconnu tout de suite l'écriture de l'expéditeur et ses phrases toujours si originales que captivantes. Tu ne pus t'empêcher de sourire à chacune de ses lettres, à chacun de ses mots, de ses actions. Mais bien que cela devrait te rendre heureuse, au contraire, cela t'angoissait.

Chaque soir avant de dormir, tu réfléchissais à ce que tu voulais vraiment. Tu avais deux choix qui se présentaient à toi : lui avouer tes sentiments et risquer de te faire humilier comme auparavant, ou les garder secrets et peut-être perdre l'amour de ta vie.

L'amour de ta vie, c'est peut-être un grand mot.

Le lundi matin, après avoir quitté ton domicile, tu arrivas au lycée un peu plus tôt. Tu espérais surtout voir Alain.

"Matinale." Une voix masculine t'interpella.

Sans même te retourner, tu pus reconnaitre cette voix entre cents, même si ce n'était pas réjouissant pour toi.

"Joseph, qu'est-ce que tu me veux encore ?"

"Qu'est-ce que je te veux ? Qu'est-ce que tu me veux plutôt."

Tu leva ton sourcil, lançant inconsciemment un regard noir à Joseph.

"Même si le lycée ne me connait pas encore sous ce nom, je suis ravi de me présenter, Joseph le Cupidon." Il se baissa en mimant une révérence.

"Joseph le quoi ?!" Tu pouffas de rire à cette nouvelle imprévisible. "Tu te moques de moi, c'est ça ?"

"Est-ce que j'en ai l'air ?"

Mon sourire s'effaça immédiatement de mon visage lorsque je compris qu'en effet, il était complètement sérieux. Mais Joseph, sérieux ou non, n'est pas quelqu'un de confiance.

"Va te chercher un autre client." Tu répondis en tournant les talons.

"Tu n'as pas envie de savoir ce que ton cher Alain pense de toi ?" Un sourire narquois se forma sur les lèvres du blond.

"Pas forcément, et sûrement pas grâce à ton aide." Tu déclares.

"C’est dommage, je connais beaucoup de choses à son sujet et des choses qui pourraient t’intéresser-" Joseph s’arrêta dans sa phrase lorsque Alain arriva.

"Ça va Y/n ? Joseph…" Alain lança un coup d’œil confus à Joseph. "On peut déjà se préparer à aller en cours, t’en dis quoi ?"

Tu acquiesces et tous les deux partirent jusque dans les couloirs. Alain s’adossa au mur.

"Si Joseph t’embête, dis-le-moi."

"C’est Joseph, il est comme ça." Tu déclares.

Alain baissa son regard, comme s'il était contrarié, et contrarié par ce qui venait de se passer.

Lors du premier cours de la journée, tu ne pouvais t’empêcher de jeter de nombreux coups d’œil à Alain qui paraissait tellement concentré sur le cours. Tu étais aussi concentrée sur lui que lui sur son cours que tu ne te rendais pas compte que son regard était maintenant tourné vers toi.

Ses yeux bleus étaient encrés sur toi. Il ne bougea même pas lorsque ton regard rencontra le sien. Tes joues prirent soudainement une teinte de rose pendant qu’un sourire narquois se dessina sur le visage d’Alain.

À la sortie des cours, tu croises à nouveau la route de Joseph qui te supplia de t’accompagner jusqu’à chez toi puisque vous habitez près l’un de l’autre.

Alain, qui marchait quelques mètres plus loin, a pu apercevoir ta silhouette et celle de Joseph marcher côte à côte. Il ne put s’empêcher de ressentir de la jalousie. Pourquoi Joseph était-il toujours obligé d’être avec toi alors qu’il rêvait seulement d’être à sa place.

***

Le lendemain, Alain et toi aviez un travail de science à terminer, un travail qui t’obligeait à travailler pendant une durée indéfinie avec lui. Tu te réjouissais déjà d’avance de te retrouver avec lui, mais bizarrement, tu ressentais de la pression, comme si cela allait mal se passer.

Tu marches rapidement vers la salle de science en apercevant Alain qui était déjà assis sur une chaise au fond de la salle.

"Je suis en retard ?" Tu demandas.

"On va plutôt dire que je suis en avance." Alain te sourit avant de te tirer une chaise.

Le travail avança plus rapidement que prévu, tous les deux étiez concentrés, mais prenaient quelques poses afin de discuter de choses plus divertissantes et amusantes que les cours de sciences.

"Toi et Joseph, il y a…" Alain commença.

Tu écarquillas les yeux avant de répondre.

"Non, non ! C’est seulement un ami, il ne m’intéresse pas." Tu t’empressas de répondre.

Alain lança un coup d’œil à son cahier sans dire un mot, comme si ta réponse ne lui convenait pas.

Ses doigts tenaient fortement son crayon avec lequel il gribouillait dans le coin de son cahier.

Tes yeux parcouraient tout son visage, de ses boucles brunes jusqu'aux courbes fines de sa mâchoire.

"Ça ne va pas ?" Tu demandas finalement.

Les yeux d’Alain se fixèrent une nouvelle fois sur toi. Ils descendirent jusqu’à tes lèvres avant de remonter à tes yeux. Bien qu’il ne parlait pas, son regard en dévoilait tellement plus.

Tes battements de cœur s’accélèrent et tes lèvres te démangeaient de l’envie de l’embrasser.

Son visage se rapprocha doucement du tien, ton cœur manqua presque un battement.

"Ça bosse dur ?" Une voix masculine lâcha.

Alain et toi vous retournez en un sursaut avant d’apercevoir Joseph dans l’embrasure de la porte. Il te souriait de manière espiègle comme s'il avait fait ça exprès. Et tu étais sûre que c’était le cas.

"Je vais te laisser, Y/n. On se remet en commun demain." Alain remballa ses affaires et te lança un bref sourire avant de s’en aller, frôlant légèrement Joseph.

"Ça t’amuse ?!" Tu déclares.

"J’ai cru que tu n’étais pas intéressée ?" Un sourire narquois apparut sur les lèvres de Joseph.

***

L'après-midi, tu t'étais rendue à l'infirmerie pour prendre des médicaments pour soigner ton mal de ventre irrépressible. Avant que tu puisses à nouveau enfiler ton gilet, la porte s'ouvrit sur Alain.

"Hey..."

"Je- Je ne pensais pas voir quelqu'un ici à cette heure." Il affirma.

Son nez saignait légèrement et tu pouvais remarquer du sang sur ses phalanges.

"Tu t'es battu ?" Tu demandas directement.

Il ne répondit pas, ses lèvres se pincèrent et il détourna le regard. Des fois, le silence est plus fort que les mots.

Tu mouillas un coton avant d'attraper doucement sa main pour la désinfecter.

"C'était pas moi… Je n'ai pas commencé." Il murmura.

"C'est trop simple de dire ça à chaque fois, Alain."

Il inspira et expira un 'oui' silencieux et serra les dents lorsque tu appuyais sur sa plaie.

La proximité entre vous deux te permettait d'entendre les battements de son cœur et de sentir son regard sur toi pendant que tu désinfectais soigneusement sa blessure.

En déposant le coton sur la table à côté de vous, tu sentis la main immobile d'Alain frôler légèrement ta cuisse lorsque tu te déplaças.

Tu mordilles ta lèvre pour dissimuler ta préoccupation. Chacun de ses mouvements, de ses regards ou de ses mots te procurait toujours une sensation qui était impossible à décrire.

Il était devenu de plus en plus compliqué pour toi d'assumer tes sentiments sans toujours imaginer le pire. Cependant, tu voulais que ça marche avec Alain. Tu sentais toujours des papillons dans ton ventre lorsque tu le voyais te sourire dans la cour, ou lorsqu'il dissimulait des lettres dans ton sac. Sans compter les fois où tu pouvais croiser son chemin, comme dans l'infirmerie par exemple.

Tout te menait à lui et tu ressentais quelque chose de différent, quelque chose de captivant.

***

Le lendemain, après la fin des cours, Alain t’avait invité pour faire un tour en ville. Au début, vous marchiez en silence. Tes interactions avec lui n’étaient jamais aussi gênantes, et l’ambiance était presque pesante actuellement.

"Désolée pour hier…"

Alain tourna sa tête, presque étonné que tu t’excuses.

"Ce n’est pas ta faute." Il répondit brièvement.

Tu te mordais les lèvres, tu ne savais pas comment rendre l’ambiance plus joyeuse ou seulement moins morbide.

"Joseph est-" Tu commences avant de te faire interrompre par Alain.

"C’est toujours Joseph, Y/n. Sauf que Joseph prend un malin plaisir à t'embêter, je le remarque très bien. Il faut que tu l'ignores, parce qu'il ne va pas s'arrêter si rapidement. Alors arrange toi pour qu’il arrête, ou je vais m’en occuper moi-même."

Lorsqu’il finit de s’exprimer, tu n'as pu t’empêcher de sortir un court ‘non’ de ta bouche. Tu ne voulais pas qu’ils s’en prennent aux mains comme toujours.

Tu attrapes son bras pour le pousser légèrement vers toi. Soit tu attendais et tu risquais peut-être que la situation dégénère ou se finisse autrement que prévu, soit tu prenais ton courage à deux mains.

Alain te regardait de nouveau avec un regard rempli de désir. Tu ne savais pas ce que ce regard voulait exactement dire, mais bien que tu ne veuilles pas te tourner des films, il n’était en aucun cas amical.

"J’aimerais t’avoir à moi pour une fois… pour pouvoir agir sans que quelqu’un me coupe à chaque fois…" Alain affirma.

Vous arrivez dans une petite ruelle. Vous marchez de plus en plus lentement et vos corps se rapprochaient au fur et à mesure que vous avancez, jusqu'à ce que vos mains se frôlèrent à plusieurs reprises.

Vos deux regards se croisèrent lorsque vous sentez la main de l’autre. Alain s’avança devant toi et s’arrêta soudainement, ce qui mena à ton arrêt à toi aussi.

"Y/n, j'aimerais tellement que tu sois plus confiante, tu es jolie et intelligente. Ne te cache pas et ne te laisse pas marcher dessus par qui que ce soit."

Tes sourcils se levèrent lorsque tu entendis ses mots. Tes joues devinrent immédiatement rouges malgré le fait que tu essayais de les cacher.

Alain se pencha lentement vers toi, sa main se tendait vers ton bras. Il n’osait pas la poser autre part et attendait surtout une réponse de ta part pour le faire. Ses yeux se baissèrent de nouveau vers tes lèvres. Cependant, cette fois-ci, il ne détourna pas le regard. Malgré l’hésitation, il posa enfin ses lèvres sur les tiennes et tu répondis immédiatement au baiser. Ses lèvres douces s’appuyèrent contre les tiennes et bougeaient à la même allure que les tiennes.

Quelques secondes plus tard, vous reculez tous les deux vos visages et vous regardèrent dans les yeux avant qu’Alain t’affiche un sourire doux.

"Je n’aurais pas pensé faire ça ici… mais c’est même mieux." Il sourit et posa enfin une main sur ta taille.

Tu fus prise par les émotions et atteins à nouveau ses lèvres pour l’embrasser. Il appuya fermement sur ta taille en même temps que ses lèvres s’enfoncèrent dans les tiennes.

Sa respiration chaude soufflait contre ta peau et tu la sentais s’accélérer doucement.

Tu sentis ses lèvres former un sourire contre les tiennes et tu ne pus t'empêcher de sourire à ton tour.

De nouveau, tu sentais comme une sensation de flottement dans ton estomac. Sa main qui caressait tendrement ta taille et les mouvements de vos lèvres les unes contre les autres ne faisaient qu'empirer ton cas.

Cependant, ce que tu ne pouvais pas savoir était que du côté d'Alain, des tonnes d'émotions et de sensations envahissaient également son corps et faisait palpiter son cœur en rythme avec les battements du tien.

1758 mots.

[southernbluebellereader]

CELINA HAVE YPU SEEN THIS FUCKING IMAGE

HIS CURLS

HER HAIR

HIS GOD DAMN UNIFORM

AND HER FUCKING CHEEKBONES

my name lies. lucy is not doing fine.

HAVE YOU SEEN THE AD FOR IT??

OUR ALAIN / ALEJANDRO LOOKS SO GOOD

[madlittlecriminal]

idk why some people are so rude to alain’s gf when she a baddie 😭 screw that, im a simp for her too 😂

[allemantheias]

Imagine riding Alejandro in lotus position on his bed at base, moving your fingers through his cute curly hair and pulling on it, making him moan your name and kiss your exposed throat.

Like Alain's curls in the signing stream. If you haven't watched it btw, go watch it, it's cuuuute as fuckk and super wholesome. It's on Alain's instagram on the reels page/tab.

[warningofeve]

no thoughts just alain mesa barking in that one ig live of his... also him saying mi chula... yeah thinking very normal thoughts