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user2772636 · 5 months ago

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Eatrrs (E's)

Music boyfriend and his yum yum

You were an eater. He was an eater. You liked music, especially punk. He was punk. You liked him. He liked you.

Lee x Reader

Warnings: its bones and all so yk the eating stuff, Lee is alive, guys, swearing, smoking, drinking, kissing, mostly fluffy w a tad bit of angst (reader backstory), homophobia (a weirdo hating on Lee's look)

References to "Dinner in America" (OBSESSED WITH THIS FILM I RECOMMEND)

Watermelon - John + Jane Q. Public

MARFA, TEXAS

The heat of the summer made the place look like a pan with sizzling oil; even more so now with the sun setting from the horizon. It made you feel like you were in a movie.

Looking out from the window of a wrecked down gas station with a barely working AC made you dread having to go back outside and continue your journey.

To start off, you're an eater. Your parents dumped you at some dumpster at the ripe age of 9 when they realised they couldn't take care of a kid. Or that's what you thought, anyway.

Some random homeless guy found you all skinny, fed you, and gave you warmth for the following nights. Looks like he just did that for his sick fantasies, and when he lunged at you, you bit his hand off.

Naturally, he screamed. But his dumbass, not knowing you were going to eat him, hid the both of you in a secluded place just in case you screamed for help; look how the tables have turned.

So here you were now, trying to steal shit from the back of a rusty store, travelling old america with only a cassette tape full of punk music, a watch, a map, and loose change.

The store bell rang, getting you to take a peek at red hair and a tropical shirt. You sensed a feeling of familiarity but brushed it off and rushed to put things in your bag and head to the counter.

The man had a greasy beard, crooked, yellow teeth, and a beer belly. You hide your scowl, placing only gum in front of him to not seem suspicious, delivering a small but polite smile his way. He seems to get the wrong idea.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing out here so late? No motels near here, sweetheart." His voice is raspy of cigarettes and screaming, and his breath smells like tonsil build up. You clear your throat.

"Just travelling." You lift your hand up to grab the gum from him but he moves it out of your way.

"You know, if you need a place to stay," He sniffles, pointing to the open door next to his counter; a room with a yellow matress and flickering lights. "I wouldn't mind company. Plus, you could figure out how to pay for this gum." He tries to smile charmingly but fails to do so. He looks quite scary.

"I..." You do feel kind of hungry. "I left some things in my bike outside. Wanna take me?" You flutter your lashes at him, no matter how much you hated it, but his smile widens and you can't wait to feed.

You didn't have a bike, but he doesn't know that. You see a truck parked in front, and you assume it's his. Once you get to the back of the building, you close your eyes and stab the guys neck, instantly ridding of his ability to scream. His body thuds on the ground, and you get on your knees starved.

You never got used to the killing, but you knew it's what you needed, so you sufficed with the blind eye and neck stab method.

Dragging his body to deteriorate behind some bush, and silently hoping that he gets covered up by sand, you check his pockets for his truck keys and find none. You do find money, though. 10 cents. You sigh in disappointment, grabbing your things, and ready to set back on the road.

When you get back to the front, you freeze. You see the boy from earlier fully now. His red hair and polo blow in the night wind, sharp features shining from the moonlight, cigarette between his lips, and there you were in front of him with blood all over your mouth and shirt, a stunned expression on your face.

It's silent for a while. Then you smell it.

"You're- You're an-"

"An eater? Yeah." His voice is raspy, but not like the guy you just ate. He had a calmer one, a sound you could listen to for a while, just like in your cassette tape.

"I'm surprised you didn't smell me immediately earlier. I could smell you before I even got inside." He continues, a hand moving to his pockets and the other to blow off smoke.

"I haven't really... I haven't been around others yet." You tilt your head down, a bit embarrassed for a reason you don't know.

He hums. "Well, I can't exactly leave you here. What are you, sixteen?"

"I'm eighteen." You grumble, frustration voicable in your projection.

He sighs. "Well, come on. I don't have all day." He takes a huff of his cigarette again, turning around to his truck. You quickly follow after him, stumbling in your feet.

The way to the nearest motel was silent, only a silent hymn of punk rock on the radio, which you were internally grateful for considering the fact you've been listening to the same cassette tape for the past two weeks.

You make it to a comfy looking place. You dig in your bag and place your spare change on the counter, giving a bright smile to the receptionist. She gives you a blunt stare. You double take at the boy to find him already looking at you with the same blunt stare the girl did. Your smile falters a bit.

The boy places a small wad of cash on the counter, gathering your coins up and giving them back to you. You receive one key, hand going up to grab them, but the boy grabs them first.

The door opens, and there's only... one bed. You furrow your eyebrows.

"Hey, isn't this-"

"This is all I could afford." He doesn't meet your gaze. "Don't worry, I'll be gone in the morning. You'll be alright by yourself now, yeah?" He shrugs off his large duffel, stretching out his limbs.

"What?" You ask. You didn't want him gone yet. You were still alone. Plus, he's the first eater you've encountered.

"What do you mean what?" He barely glances at you, taking his polo off, revealing a cropped white tee that said "Eatrrs".

"You know Eatrrs?" You're giddy in your feet, ignoring his exposed abdomen from the shirt. His demeanour shifts.

"Yeah... do you?" He drags his words as if trying to convince you he didn't know something.

"I love Eatrrs! I saw them once in Kentucky. Their lead, E's, is my favourite. He pulls off that punk rock voice. I'm pretty sure I smelt the same thing on him and on you, except at that time I didn't know you could even smell eaters. Come to think of it, "Eatrrs" is a ridiculous name if you're trying to hide the fact you're an eater-" A hand clasps your mouth, pushing you down on the bed. The gasp gets caught in your throat.

He's looking at you with a fiery glare. You couldn't tell what he felt, anger... or something else.

"Cut it out." His voice encapsulates you in a conscious stream. You nod slowly, head feeling stiff at his hold of you. He lets you go, and you miss the warmth.

His back is towards you. "I'm gonna take a smoke." He turns his head barely. "Don't follow me."

The door slams, and you're alone again. Those eyes seemed so familiar to you. Those hands, his smell. You could've sworn you've known him.

Before you could come up with a conclusion, you fall asleep. And he comes in and sees you. He sighs deeply.

He knew that face anywhere. He knew that smell, so unlike the other eaters. He knew those legs that used to bounce at every kick of a drum, or that voice that screamed of excitement every song.

Those days were long before him. So he lies beside you, arms tucked to himself, and falls asleep with an image of you in his mind.

The next morning, you wake up from hearing of jeans brushing against each other. You don't remember where you were, so you went in defence mode.

You lunged at the man, who was wearing some cowboy hat and a blue tropical polo. He groans as he reaches the ground. You've got crazy eyes on him, but when you take off the hat and realise who it is, you blink and get up.

You offer your hand at the boy, giving him a sheepish smile and muttering a sorry. He glares at you for a moment, then grabs your arm, almost dragging you down as he lifts himself up.

"You've got a lot of strength in you, kid. What are you, a sumo wrestler?" The boy asks, rubbing his lower back for ease.

You huff. "I told you I'm eighteen, don't call me kid."

He chuckles. "I'm fucking with you." He heads to the door. "Good luck, not kid."

"Wait!" You rush after him, swinging the door open. You grab his shoulder, almost to his car.

"I..." This was too embarassing. You clear your throat. "Can I go with you?"

He squints down at you, and you realise you've finally seen him with a light.

His eyes are sullen and deep, coloured like a mossy lake you'd find and make a wish from. His hair, though dishevelled, shone in the sun like fire was alive. His lips plump like pillows fluffed on a bed, cheeks hollow like he got his life sucked out, freckles you could trace and turn into constellations.

"No." He snaps you out of your trance, shoving his arm back and opening the drivers door.

"Wait! I have a map." He pauses, then turns to you.

You scramble to open your backpack, almost dropping it. You place a crumpled map in his outreached hand. He scans it for a bit, then clicks his tongue.

"Get in." You don't fight the smile spreading on your face, moving to the other side of the car and swiftly sitting down.

"Where are you headed?" The boy asks, turning the ignition on. He puts the car in reverse, turning his head to check the back while he backs out the parking lot.

"Los Angeles. I got some letter saying my mom died and she forgot to get me out of her will, so I inherited her place there. It's small, but it's by the beach, so it's alright." You shrugged. The boy shifts the gear and your on the road again.

"Good for you." He mutters. You can't really read the guy. He's putting you off, but it makes you even more curious.

"What's your name?" You scan his side profile, some bumps on the road making the both of you jump a bit.

"Why do you ask?" He keeps his eyes on the road, focused on his task.

"We're gonna be stuck together for a while. I guess I just wanna get to know who it is I'm gonna be stuck with." You turn your head, feeling embarrassed by asking these dumb questions.

"Lee." He barely says, clearing his throat afterwards. You catch it, though.

"I'm Y/N." You smile even when he doesn't glance at you. He nods in acknowledgement.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." The way he says your name tastes nice on his lips. You smile just a bit wider.

"Nice to meet you too, Lee."

LAS CRUCES, NEW MEXICO

"It's so hot... still." You fan yourself, wiping off some sweat on your forehead. You look at the town as Lee turns his truck to a new motel. It looked straight out of a magazine about architecture in spain.

"Welcome to the west side." Lee huffs, turning the engine off.

You were glad to say you and Lee got along well enough.

You were both from the lower east side of america, you're both eaters, and you two love punk. Like, really love punk.

You played him your cassette tape, and even though you were tired of hearing it, the look of satisfaction on Lee's face was worth it. Though, there was a small tweak in his looks every time something from Eatrrs played. You simply brushed it off.

You drop your things off at the bed, that's still single (to save money, Lee says), and you absorb the coolness of the barely working AC. You wonder if all of the west side had barely working AC's.

"Wanna walk around at night later? Saw some bars, thought we'd go." Lee says, taking his shoes off and lying by the bed next to you.

"Sure." You answer.

"Also," Lee sits himself up with his elbow. "You should probably change your shirt. Reeks of blood. I'm starting to want to rip it off you."

You whip your head to look at him, face expressing shock at what you just heard. He smiles simply at you.

"I'm fucking with you. Again." You roll your eyes, pushing him lightly to lie back down. He groans back on the bed, relaxing and eyes closing slowly.

After changing, you and Lee decide to play with a deck of cards he stole from the gas station in Marfa.

"Go fish?" You say, looking at your cards as if they were the hardest math problems you've ever seen.

"You still don't know how to play, do you?" He deadpans, moving to sit next to you and peeking at your cards. "Yeah, no. You still don't."

You groan obnoxiously, whipping your head back. "It's so boring!"

Next, you two decided to trace the map to figure out where you're going.

"So we're currently in Las Cruces," Lee dots the area, "and we're headed to Los Angeles," Lee crosses the location, "so, we have to get through Arizona first."

"Ooh!" You exclaim, pointing to a state. "Can we go to Nevada first? I wanna check out Vegas." You smile sweetly at him, fluttering your eyes to convince him a bit further. He scowls.

"Fine, but you're paying for yourself when we get there, so figure out how to get some money."

When 6 o'clock arrives and the sun lost some of its heat, you decide to head out for dinner.

"What are you feeling?" Lee asks, glancing at the restaurants big windows.

"Mexican, duh. We're in mexico." You say as if it was obvious. Lee just squints.

"Mexico and New Mexico are- whatever." He rolls his eyes and you laugh.

You get to one of the Mexican Restaurants, ordering just sides for the both of you. You play with the salt and pepper shaker for the meantime whilst Lee watches.

"Wait, what?" Lee asks, looking at your hands holding the two porcelain containers.

"Salt is one hundred percent a guy. Pepper is the girl." You say, holding each one up accordingly.

"That's like saying... the spoons a guy and the forks a girl!" He moves his hands like a teacher in lesson.

"Yeah, you just said the correct labels for both." You raise your brows.

"Fuck off!" Lee slams the table, getting stares from the other customers. You smile sheepishly at them as if to apologise.

"You need to take it down a notch." You whisper, leaning in towards him across the table.

"What?" His face is contorted. You chuckle nervously.

"'Take it down a notch'? What does that even mean?" He's clueless, you can tell. It's a genuine question. You feel just a tad bit dumb.

"I mean like, calm down, or something." Your mumbling quiets down. You stare at the table, suddenly seeming enamoured by the dried water rings and yellow tile.

Lee sighs heavy, and his shoulders slump, assuming since you aren't exactly looking at him right now.

"The fork and pepper are definitely dudes." You look up, and the smile comes back slowly but surely.

Your conversation the whole time in the diner consisted of utensils, shakers, hair products, jackets, and more. You could even say you guys grew closer from it.

"Fork's a girl."

"Salt is an uncle who has germaphobia."

"Conditioner is definitely the teacher you think is gay but actually has a wife and kids."

"Leather jackets are punk." You said once.

Lee pauses. "Leather jackets are punk." He nods.

You pull a hand out for a shake, and Lee firmly does so.

"Dark chocolate is a woman, though."

"Dark chocolate's a grandpa!"

Afterwards, you and Lee take in the country night air, falling into a comfortable silence with your footsteps.

"Are you my friend, Lee?" You stop, turning your whole body to face him. Lee can't read you that well in the night's dim lighting, but he can feel the hope off you.

"Am I not?" You both chuckle, getting back to equal strides.

"You're my only one." He didn't even hear you at first. He thought it was something a rat was bickering at, or a bird was tweeting, or a vampire hunting for blood, a big foot stomping on the ground, because what you just told him couldn't have been true. It shouldn't have been.

"I'm not really liked by a lot of people. I was homeschooled for a reason I think you already know." You huff a laugh. "But people used to call me weird or slow. Or just plain stupid." Your eyes twinkle as you look up at Lee, and he feels like he's looking at his lifeline.

"Hopefully, you don't think that. 'Cause you're my friend, right?" He nods, so harshly his head starts to pound, but he doesn't care. He needs you to know he doesn't think you're any of that. That you mean so much more.

"I'm your friend, Y/N." He nudges your shoulder to ease the tension, and the laugh he gets out of you shoves a weight of his chest.

When you lie down to sleep, you face each other, not exactly touching, but there's a silent phrase passed between you in the silence. I trust you.

ST. JOHNS, ARIZONA

"I think I'm hungry." You gulp, your throat feeling dry. You clutch on your stomach, and it's asking for something you want. Something you need.

"You wanna stop by a diner or something? This town is fucking empty." Lee shakes his head, one hand on the steering wheel and the other inbetween you. His hand grazes your thigh every time there's a bump, or even when there isn't. You don't mind.

"N-No, I meant..." You raise your brows, and pass him a crooked smile.

"You wanna eat?" He glances at you. You nod slowly.

He pats your thigh, and he leaves his hand there. "We can eat."

You find yourself with Lee at the far end of town, eyeing a souvenir shop. You turn your head to meet eachothers eyes, and nod. You enter the tiny place, the bell ringing as a form of notification to the owner.

The place actually looks neat, even with the creaking floorboards and peeling walls. Trinkets and mugs hang from a shelf, all spelling out the words St. Johns, Arizona. You take note at the fact dust is collecting on them, meaning it hasn't been touched for a long time.

Lee nudges your waist with his two fingers, tilting his head to get to the counter. You nod, holding on the back of his wife beater, eyes not even fighting to look at his lean arms.

And young man sits there, leaning on the countertop. His face wears a smirk as he reads from a magazine titled Playboy Magazine. You scowl.

"I'll handle him." You whisper near Lee's ears. You fail to notice his neck hair raising. He furrows his brows.

"You sure? He seems... charming." The scowl he wears match the one you were just doing. You nod firmly.

"Well, I'm a lot more charming." You wink at him, getting up to head to the counter naturally. Lee's eyes are all over you.

"Good morning! Or afternoon. I can't really tell, I don't have a watch." You fake laugh. "So, what's a guy like you doing all the way out here?" Lee sees you leaning on the counter, mirroring the man in front of you. His scowl feels imprinted on his face.

"Oh, uh, well..." The mans awkward demeanour turns into false confidence, but visible cockiness. Lee keeps himself quiet, and the scoff dries on his throat.

"I'm just here for summer break. You know, making some money. S'not like I need it. I just heard that grandma's dying, and this shitty place costs like a zillion dollars, so I'm taking care of it." He wears a smile, an ugly one, Lee thinks, as the guy's attention gets back to you.

You only smile so sweetly. "Well... you have any fun here?" Lee sees you lean closer, too close now, and the guys eyes don't even try to hide the hunger.

"Oh, yeah. Lots of fun..." The guy chuckles, and Lee hears the pages of his Playboy flap against each other. His head pounds in rage.

"Wanna have even more fun," Lee sees you read his name tag. "Chad?"

Chad? The worst name ever. It fits the weirdo. You look so sweet propped up on that counter that Lee feels a bit jealous of the guy infront of you. Your attentions on him, and Lee starts to smell your hunger to feed, and he can smell his own hunger. For you.

Fuck this. Lee gets up from his hiding area, and just before you get to speak, he slams a mug on the counter. He hears a small crack, but he barely cares.

"Hey, I need this shit." Lee glances at the mug that imprints Best Cowboy in Arizona. He hides the cringe in his face.

Chad looks him up and down. "I'm a bit busy here," he glances down at the mug. "Cowboy." A smirk finds a way to his face, but Lee isn't having it.

"Come on, man. I'm in a rush." Chad rolls his eyes. He looks at you, and Lee fights the urge to spoon his eyes out right then and there.

"Excuse me, princess. Gotta take care of this freak." Lee hears it, of course, because he's right next to the two of you. You cringe at Chad's proximity, smelling the reek of his breath.

Lee sees your uncomfort, grabs the back of Chad's head, and slams it right on the mug, breaking both the ceramic piece and the guy's nose.

"Fuck!" The smell of blood encapsulates the area, which only heightens your hunger. Both of you feel adrenaline rush through your veins, and a glance later, all of you are outside; you and Lee looking down on the ground at Chad's broken and bruised body.

Lee huffs, the blood on his white shirt apparent. He looks at you, with your hair messy from the wind and pupils blown. When you turn your head to him, a smile stretches slowly. He reciprocates.

"Bon appétit."

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

"Holy shit!" You're eyes gaze at the sight of the city behold.

"It's so bright here." Lee's truck revvs at what they call The Strip. Light's blare and shine in your vision, and you feel a high you've never felt before.

"Why'd you wanna come out here anyway?" Lee asks, but you look at him bewildered.

"Look at this place! Who wouldn't wanna visit?"

Lee simply chuckles at your exclamation.

"I think I've saved enough money for us to get into those fancy casinos. But one things for sure," You point in between the two of you. "We need to change if we wanna be let in."

Lee scowls. "Where are we even gonna find clothes like that?" He sees your smirk from the corner of his peripherals, and it's even more hypnotising than the glow of Vegas.

You lean over to the bottom of your seat, pulling out a duffel bag, a bit trashed, but in tact enough. He hears the zipper open.

"There were some clothes in that trinket shop. I bet we'd look like a million bucks in them." You wiggle your brows at Lee. He glances towards you, sees a leather cowboy hat, and sighs.

It felt tight, and the brown leather didn't help with the feeling of summer nights, but when he looked at you with those bell jeans and leather vest, he had to admit, the comfort in his pants was long gone with a tent forming.

You, on the other hand, just didn't want to do anything more than take that cowboy hat off and his plaid shirt ripped open. But living as an eater for the whole of your life gave you control. Maybe next time.

"You..." Lee mumbles out. He doesn't talk for the next minute, so you just stop waiting for him to talk and say "You too."

Entering some hotel was easy, the guards simply glancing your way. You guess lots of weird things happen in Vegas. At that point, you had to sneak in the casino because you two didn't have valid ID's, which was really easy considering their shit security.

You and Lee spent a fourth of you money each, almost starting fights with some of the men in business suits and women in dresses, but you didn't care. You didn't care about the money you've lost, didn't care that you started with a hundred each and ended up with 20 bucks 50, it was fun.

Oh, and even more when you ran out of the hotel after stealing some rich guys' watch, a ladies' purse, and a butler's tip.

You ran through the streets of Vegas, leaving no trace as if you weren't there, laughing and high on adrenaline.

You slow down in front of the various shops with their various items on the shelves. You hum a song to yourself, watching you boots clicking on the cement.

You feel Lee stop from your walk. You turn around, brows furrowed, and smile still etched on your lips. He has the same look, but his eyes say something different. He crosses his arms and simply gazes at you. "Come here."

"What? No, you're creeping me out." You shake your head. He whips his head back in mock annoyance before leaning over and grabbing your arm.

"Come onnn." You chuckle at his demeanour, giving in and leaning on his chest as he hugs you close.

"What is it?" You tilt your head up at him, and he's still got that look from earlier. He runs a hand through your loose hair.

"Did I ever tell you you look beautiful?" He whispers it so gently, but you hear, and you turn shy. He notices and keeps your eyes on him by grabbing your chin.

"Because you are."

His lips are plump and soft, just like how you imagined them, and his hands are calloused on the back of your neck. Lee is a gentle man with a curse, but the curse brought you two together, so it really isn't one.

"I've never seen you run so fast!" You nudged Lee's side, the sun rise illuminating the side of his face as you drive farther and farther away from the city. His smile spreads, and the lines that etched his cheeks satisfy you.

"I've never seen you laugh so hard." The excitement simmers down, but the joy stays in you. You sit in comfortable silence. Before you could remind him of your next venture towards Los Angeles, he speaks up first.

"I gotta tell you something. And I need you to believe me because I wouldn't and couldn't even lie about this." His face is expectant, foot still calmly on the pedal of the truck.

"Whatever it is, Lee, it just better be not you rigging something in Vegas while I was on." You chuckle, but he barely does. So you know he's serious. "Ok, for real now, shoot."

It takes a while. It's too long of a while. "Remember that time you mentioned a band you saw? Like, a punk one?"

"I know lots of punk bands, but I think I know what you're talking about. Listen," You adjust in your seat, fully facing him. "If you were jealous or something, you shouldn't be. I mean, it was just a crush. Plus, I never knew who he was-"

"It's me." He grips the steering wheel hard til his knuckles pale. "I'm that guy."

He hears you chuckle. "Shut up, Lee-"

"No, I-" He slows his driving, the free road not minding his pace, "It's really me."

Now it's you that's quiet. He continues.

"Harrodsburg, Kentucky. 2 years ago, in a bar, I honestly forgot the name of it. I could smell someone; someone like me. But that fucking mask was in the way."

HARRODSBURG, KENTUCKY - 2 YEARS AGO

The bar was half full, enough people filling the seats without it being too crowded. Lee carries the guitar case in his back with ease. The rest of his band followed behind him. He huffs and itches at his neck from the knitted black mask worn covering his face.

He smelled it. Smelled whoever it was. But the smell was faint, the cover atop his nose not helping.

"And now, we have a little performance for you folks here. Please welcome Eatrrs!" The awfully giddy man exits the stage, and the room falls into a splattered applause, most likely from the look of the band contrasting with the prim and proper crowd.

That's what you remember from that night. You were sitting in front of the bar, ordering a tall glass of shirley temple when you saw him; the lanky man wearing a mask that covered his face, a tattered electric guitar in his arms. You didn't think you've ever been as curious as then.

And then the band played, and the drums banged, the guitars rung, the bass slapped. It was loud and haggard, but it was like listening to the heart rate monitor come back to life.

And the lead looked gorgeous. His voice was gorgeous, even though he was screaming and slowly gaining a rasp in his throat.

Lee glances at the bar, and he sees half of your body until he hears the amplifiers get plugged off. The now angry looking bar manager swats them off, but not before they start throwing cd's around the bar.

You see them fly off with their instruments, the poor drummer leaving his shiny black set of drums up in the stage. You pick up the cd, inspecting it.

'Eatrrs SPEXIAL: by E's and the band' is what it read. It's an odd name, but it's one you will always remember.

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA - 3 MONTHS LATER

The gentle breeze of the sea makes the hung laundry flow with the wind, the glass sliding door rocking firmly. The kettle whistles and steam blows out of it like a train on its tracks.

"Let me turn that off-" Lee pulls you back in his arms, keeping his lips firm on yours, and you can't help but melt each time he does it. You poke his side to make him lose grip on you, and he yelps in surprise.

You smile innocently at the man, getting up from your position on the bed. You make your way through the hall with frames of you and the love of your life, going around Los Angeles. You make it to the kitchen and turn off the stove, and it's your turn to yelp as you feel cold hands on your waist and warm lips on your neck.

"Now we're fair." Lee turns you to face him, going back to kissing your pretty face. You can't help but giggle at his antics.

"You still performing later?" Lee nods, pursing his lips and humming.

"Yeah, hopefully the crowd likes it this time." You run a hand through his grown out red hair.

"I'm sure they will. Punk's rising up." He kisses you again, and you never dare to get sick of it. Once you pull away, you mention "I'll be there."

"Y'don't need to reassure me. I know you will." He smiles a gentle smile, and everything is quiet. You're finally in peace, and you hope it lasts long.

Omg this things a long time coming and its finally DONE. Its so cutesy and i want it so bad for me but wtvs 🙄🙄🙄 I HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT AND DKNT HATE ME FOR TAKING SO LONG 🥰🥰

#lee x reader #lee bones and all x reader #bones and all #dinner in america #this took way too long #x reader #reader insert #slow burn #enemies to friends to lovers

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user2772636 · 9 months ago

Text

Hate is *a strong word

(the wrong word)

You've been on eachothers throats since kindergarten. Now that college is coming, more competitions mean more rivalry. You can't keep bottling emotions cause they'll spill out.

Senior!Joseph Descamps x Senior!Reader

Warnings: swearing, smoking, ANGSTTT, two eyed joseph (sorry one eyed joseph lovers)

Reference to movie "Akeelah and The Bee"

Based on this request!!! @lovingaphroditesworld

Still based in Voltaire High, but mentions of some colleges and such

Champagne Coast - Blood Orange

Ever since you were little, you had an amazing mind. You won school competitions, aced all your exams, and were always the top of your class.

And with all of that came Joseph. He, too, had an amazing mind. So amazing, in fact, that you had started to doubt yourself, causing you to trip in the road of straight A's.

That's when you started to hate him. You hated his handwriting, his smile when he received a paper back with the plaster of a letter that makes you think he's catching up to you. Way too quick for your liking.

Then, when you hit middle school, you hated more things. You hated the way his glasses slipped a little when he was focused too much on his work or when his hair was all messed up when he played with his friends or runs late for an exam.

Of course, when high school came, you hated and hated away. You hate the way he's become twice your size, towering over you like some lampost. Or the way he talks to other girls with such arrogance. Or the smell of smoke that lingers when you walk by him.

That's the thing with Joseph. You hate him.

Now, when Joseph met you in kindergarten, he was head over heels. He loved the different ways you styled your hair. He loved it when you scrunched your nose at him. He loved your laugh and your chipped smile.

In middle school, he continued to love you. He loved it when he caught you staring, even though they were glares. He loved how invested you get when it comes to school. He even loved you when you got grumpy and mean.

But then high school happened. Things changed for him. He started to really notice how you saw him. Then he started to hate it. He hated that you hated him. And now, he hates you.

He hates when you ignore him after he's asked for a spare pen or when you don't care about the fact he's talking to other girls. And these girls were nothing compared to you.

He hates that you click your pen when you can't figure out a question or when you spend all your time in the library reading instead of taking in your high school years.

That's the thing with you. He hates you.

Now, with only one year left with you, he wouldn't even bother anymore.

January 12, 1966 - 7:51 am - Voltaire High

Students crowd the corridor, echoing sound of clicking heels, low laughing, and chatter. You keep your binders close to your chest as you walk up the massive stairwell.

Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you look up to the balcony expecting your friend, but your face drops as you see his glasses framed eyes.

You look away. One more year left, you think. Just one more year.

The bell rings once you make it to the main hallway, hurrying your steps to settle into English. Once you walk inside, a small group in the corner of the room goes quiet. You glance over and realise it's him again.

Joseph shushes his friends, clasping a hand over their mouths in order to keep them quiet. When he makes eye contact with you (again), he nods as a greeting. You only glare, making his friends snort quietly at him.

"I told you to stay quiet!" Joseph whisper shouts to his group.

"But your girlfriend-" Dupin starts, cut off with Joseph clasping his hand on the boys mouth again.

"She's not my girlfriend!" He scowls at Dupin.

You roll your eyes, and only then does Joseph realise how loud he was. He blushes (in frustration, of course) and hurries to his seat, eyes boring into the side of your head.

January 25, 1966 - 12:03 pm - Voltaire Library

It was peaceful. You had just been dismissed for your lunch break that you could still hear the footsteps and clatter of your fellow schoolmates. The sun was at its peak, the light cascading brightly even in winter through the tall windows of the library.

Only a few had been in the room with you, including your sweet librarian and her husband.

Scanning through a page of a philosophy book you've found, your eyes stop when you hear the loud creak of the door.

Slowly, you look up, catching three pairs of eyes looking at you. They quickly disappear, leaving you furrowing your eyebrows. Their identities are revealed when exactly those three boys waltz right in. You don't even try to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Descamps' friend group whistle through their lips, eyes wandering everywhere but you. They scratch their head, fiddle with a pen or an apple.

Joseph's tall frame stands out from all of them. You mean, how could he not? Especially with his ash brown coloured hair glowing from the natural light.

Mrs. Beauforde, your librarian, looks at you and raises her brows as if asking. Do you want me to make them leave?

Just to make things easier for the older woman, you smile and shake your head no. You'd take care of this. You always have.

Getting up with your book in hand, you go back to the corner of the library where you found it. You hear the rather loud footsteps of the boys, and your head starts to hurt at their antics.

Slipping the book through an empty slot, you turn swiftly to catch them in the act. They spread out as if you hadn't caught them right then and there. Placing both hands on your hips, you slowly walk over to the boy you knew lead his.

"Joseph," You say, voice low like confronting a child. "Would you like to explain why you're stalking me?"

He looks at you, baffled. "Stalking you?" He chuckles, placing a hand on his chest. "You flatter yourself too much."

This only angers you. He's so arrogant it just makes you want to kiss slap his mouth shut.

You tongue your inner cheek to keep yourself from saying something that would get you in trouble.

"Leave me alone, Joseph. Schools almost over, you won't have to see me again. Give me a break." You sigh, looking down on both of your feet.

Honestly, you were getting a bit tired of his stuff. You're both seniors now, almost off to college, ready to take on the reality of being adults.

When you glance back up at him, there's a solemn look on his face.

To Joseph, he didn't want to stop. He couldn't. The thought of you never seeing eachother again made him feel heavier. He should be feeling free. There'd be no more competitions, no more distractions, and the feeling of being on top would be right there.

But he didn't feel that. He felt heavier. Like, if you were gone, there was no more trying to prove he's better than the best, or no more sneaking out with his friends to see what your up to, no more of those glares that he's grown to hate then grown to like.

So there he was, just staring at you like you were the only thing keeping him happy. The only thing that fills his mind.

It scares you.

"What?" You stutter out, scanning his face for something, anything that showed he wasn't feeling what you were thinking. But there's nothing. A chill rattles your spine even in the warmth that a library usually gives you.

He shakes his head, looking at you through those frames you've grown used to seeing slip on his beautiful nose.

He sighs, turning around and leaving you stood there.

You hadn't even noticed that his friends left, or that the librarian couple was staring at the both of you the whole time. It's as if the world disappears when he's there.

That makes you angry.

He's going to be a distraction. Now you're thinking that it's a good riddance he'd be gone by college, because if he'll be there, then you'll just get distracted because he's there being his handsome self.

You stomp away from the library, lunch break long over.

"When do you think they'll get together?" Mrs. Beauforde whispers to her husband.

Mr. Beauforde chuckles. "How long did it take you to finally like me back?"

Mrs. Beauforde rolls her eyes, a lingering smile on her face. Her eyes go back to the door you just left through.

"They remind me so much of us back then." Mr. Beauforde places a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Well, look where we ended up." He grabs one of her hands gently, kissing it with much love and care.

Febuary 19, 1966 - 8:13 am - Voltaire High

An English Quiz Bee was set to take place in late Feburary and end in mid March, in the same week your school year ends.

The draft of students picked were top ten of your English class. Only 2 would be able to compete in the semi-finals.

Automatically, you're there. Automatically, he's there.

And obviously, you both win.

Today was Saturday, and you're on your way to school for your review with Ms. Couret when you accidentally slip on fresh ice.

You yelp in surprise, the solidity of the ground makes your back sting in pain. Luckily, you hadn't hit any area that would cause a concussion or sprain.

Just when you thought luck was by your side, Joseph rounds around the corner of the sidewalk you were in, stopping in his tracks at the sight of you.

When he finally did recognise you, he wasted no time helping you up and checking you for injuries.

"What are you doing out here? You know the ice hasn't fully melted yet, and you're just absentmindedly walking around. With nobody, might I add. You're going to kill me one day!" He exclaims, and you only furrow your eyebrows at his behaviour.

"Why do you care so much anyway? Don't you remember we have a review with Ms. Couret?" You ask, voice raised slightly at the simmering annoyance in your chest.

"I just came from school. The guard said Ms. Couret couldn't make it today; that she was supposed to tell us sooner but forgot." He matches your tone, his heavy breaths highlighted by the cold air making small clouds.

"Oh." Dead air fills around you. The empty streets covered in bright snow made you realise how cold it was, and you shiver from each breeze.

"I'll just go home then." You turn on your heel, ready to head back to your place when Joseph's deep voice gravels to your ears.

"Hey." Joseph calls. "She left me the reviewers. Do you want them?"

You turn around to see him making his way towards you. His forest green scarf goes up to his chin, nose and cheeks tinted pink. For the first time, you thought he had looked adorable.

You only nod, putting a hand out and receiving the papers. You skim your eyes through them to make sure that he was actually telling the truth, and gladly he was.

You turn to really walk back home now. After a few steps, you begin to notice the snow crunching behind you. You had to do a double take when you see Joseph's tall figure following.

"Why are you following me?" You stop again, facing him. He halts in surprise, brows raised.

"What? You have the reviewers. I need to review too, you know?" He shrugs.

You stare at him quizzically.

"So?"

"So what?" Joseph asks.

"So why are you following me? I'll just give them to you later in the afternoon."

"No, that'd just be a waste of time. Plus I've got... stuff to do this afternoon."

He rubs the back of his neck and looks away.

"What stuff?"

"Why do you have to know?"

You squint. You don't exactly have an answer for that. You don't even know why you asked.

"What's the plan here?" You don't answer his previous question.

"I review with you at your place."

Joseph. At your place. Your place.

"No!" You exclaim, throwing you hands up. "No way!"

"Why not?!" He mirrors you, scowling a bit.

"Because..." You linger at the reason. Again, you don't know what to say. Seems like that these days.

"Exactly. No answer. Let's go." He walks past you, bumping your shoulder gently. You watch him stride the sidewalk with confidence, looking side to side at the town buildings and shops.

Then he halts. He faces you.

"You coming?" He yells.

Why can't you say words anymore?

Febuary 19, 1966 - 9:38 pm - Your Flat

Thirteen hours. The review lasted for thirteen hours, and it's still going. You've gone through every page, every space, every comma, every period, consonant, vowel, silents letters, dictionaries, and encyclopedias; none of them were enough. You weren't enough.

"I'm a failure." You slump against the side of your bed. "I'm a total, utter failure."

Joseph fell asleep six times through the whole thing. Came right back up each smack from you and a delivery of espressos.

"If you were, you wouldn't be doing all of this." Joseph yawns as he slides down next to you.

You look back at him, smacking his shoulder for the thirty-sixth time. A lot of numbers are being counted.

Joseph hisses. "I'm gonna start to bruise if you keep doing that." He lifts his sleeve up, cuffing it to his collarbone before showing you. "See? It's already turning purple!"

You scoff out a laugh, looking away from embarrassment. The real reason you had looked away was because his arms were so very toned. Especially for a smartass like him. Your cheeks go pink. "Whatever."

He smiles at you, looking down at the floor and pressing a knee to his chin. Spending the whole day with you was not a part of his plan (It was actually exactly the plan, even if he didn't want to admit it, but it went longer than expected, not that he's complaining. He didn't even have a "thing" this afternoon.) His thoughts are cut off by you speaking.

"Wait." You furrow your brows, recounting every bit of information you've received that day. "Didn't you say you had a thing to do this afternoon?"

"Well... yeah but-" You gasp, standing up and grabbing his shoulders all the while. You drag him up and push him towards your door.

"Oh my god! It's already nine! Why didn't you say anything?!" You groan in frustration, continuously pushing Joseph to your living room now.

Joseph yelps as he trips over your red couch, tumbling down on the floor, his head thudding against your coffee table whilst he shouts afterwards. "Ow!"

"Fuck, Joseph!" You stumble on your feet, rushing to his side. There's no bleeding or bruises, surprisingly, but he seems a bit wonky.

"Oh my god, an angel. You're beautiful..." He mutters, hands reaching up to cup your cheeks. Your face feels hot, and you can tell how red you were right now. "I'm in heaven!"

"Get up, asshole!" You smack the same shoulder he was complaining about earlier, earning another hiss from him. He seems to get out of his daze when he locks eyes with you, his face going blank with boredom. "Oh, it's just you."

Your face goes from red of flattery to red of anger. You lift him up once again, going back to your original plan of pushing him out the door.

Once he's out, you slam your front door in front of him, getting a 'hey!' from the other side. After a while, you hear his footsteps retreating. You slide down the door in exhaustion, sliding a hand through your face.

You glance toward the kitchen, the sink full of dishes from earliers lunch. The pans on the stove that you two used to cook, and you remember Joseph burning himself cause he held a hot pan on accident then you having to take care of him afterwards.

You walk back to your bedroom, seeing the scattered papers, pens, and books. You remember finding Joseph lying fast asleep on your pillows, hugging them tightly. And as you tried to wake him up, berating him for his childish manners, he incoherently mutters some words that sounded like 'wait, it smells like you' and 'join me'. Obviously, it's very weird... you guess.

But that's whatever. You won't have to see his face when you go head to college. You won't have to hear his voice, go through those ridiculous pranks, or find him in corners with his friends catching his eye following your moves.

Oh, how you wish you'd see him again.

March 5, 1966 - 7:48 am - Annual SHS English Quiz Bee Semi-Finals

Nothing made sense anymore. Growing up, it had been etched in your mind that you were made for this place. Every test you've aced, every activity you've cooperated in.

So when you receive the letter that you were rejected from your dream college, nothing made sense anymore.

You spaced out so much that day you didn't even hear your mom trying to get you to eat a bit faster, or your dad telling you you arrived. It took them raising their voices and nudging you a bit.

It seemed scary. Nothing made you budge. You were so stuck in your head from disappointment that you couldn't get a grasp of yourself in the real world. You felt stuck-

"Hey."

He didn't need to raise his voice. He didn't need to nudge you. He didn't need to call for you multiple times so you could snap out of your trance. One word was all Joseph needed to get you out of your head.

"Hi." You whisper, trying to get yourself composed once you've realised where you were.

Seats were filling the gymnasium up. Families and friends come in to support their kids. You spot your own parents in the crowd, nodding to them in greeting before your eyes go back to Joseph.

You don't even realise your leg was shaking until Joseph put a palm down on it. You sighed a breath of air you hadn't even known you were holding.

"You better be good, Y/N, or all that reviewing went for nothing."

You couldn't help but laugh at this, but having the rejection in the back of your mind made you have second thoughts.

You really shouldn't try anymore anyway. If your dream college rejected you, why would you even try anymore?

All of these questions came back to your mind, so once again, you're stuck in your trance, but this time, Joseph doesn't snap you out. He knows you'll make sense of it all at your own pace, whatever you're thinking about.

It's like clockwork. One by one, students leave the stage from their loses, each of them wearing a solemn face. And like clockwork, it's the two of you again.

"With only three minutes in the clock, two students both from Voltaire High compete head to head. Who will move on to the finals?" The commentator announces. The audience bounce in their seats in suspense. Your stomach flips over, and you feel like gagging.

Question one was for Joseph. He aced it, looking smug as always when he came back to his seat next to you. Two minutes left.

Question two was for you.

"What is the term used for the second to the last in a series?"

Penultimate. It's Penultimate.

"A. Ultimate,"

It's penultimate.

"B. Penultimate,"

It's B.

"C. Antepenultimate,"

It's B. It's Penultimate.

"Or D. None of the above."

"Letter C."

They know I'm wrong. I know I'm wrong.

Joseph knows I'm wrong.

"Incorrect. The answer is B, penultimate." I knew that. I knew the answer. But it didn't matter anymore. This competition didn't matter. I can't get into the college of my dreams, then I won't try anymore.

"Score is now a tie. The next round will be a speed test with only one minute left on the clock." They bring out papers and desks to our place on the stage. I glance at Joseph, and he's staring at me as if I just grabbed his heart and stomped on it.

"You knew." He says, barely even muttering.

"Knew what?" I squint at him, the bright lights of the spot light hurting my eyes.

"You knew the answer." He doesn't look away. He doesn't look mad. He seems sad about it. Disappointed.

"... yeah." You sigh simply. You couldn't lie to him, seeing as he already knew. In fact, you've spent so much time with him your whole life and you only realised now. He could probably know you more than you know yourself. If only he wasn't so self-absorbed.

"Y/N." You nod in acknowledgement, not daring to face him right now.

"Look at me." His voice got softer, and you help but peek at the worry now displaying on his face. He seems so serious about what he was gonna say.

"You do your best." He purses his lips for a moment, and my throat starts to dry. The way he still wants me to keep going is startling.

"You do your best, or I don't want it." He's so close. Close to winning, close to me. There's a feeling lying under my brain. Under all those studies and all those infuriating words. Like I still want to see him next year. Like I've never wanted to stop looking at his face or hearing his voice.

But I can't. I've gone too far hating him to stop. He sees me as someone who can't stand him, who can't wait to get rid of him. Only now I've thought that maybe I hurt him. Now I care. Now, when it's too late.

So I just nod. And I listen.

And...

"It's a tie..." The commentator murmurs, going over the two pieces of paper me and Joseph finished. Confusion hovers over the crowd, not quite hearing what the commentator said.

"I-It's a tie! The two Voltaire High students have tied!" Gasps spread throughout the people. None of them would've thought this would happen.

"It's just been announced to me there will be a private second tie breaker tomorrow morning, of course, unless one of them backs out." Slowly, almost carefully, cheers and claps echo against the walls of the centre.

This was too much. You'd back out the second you got off. That second started now.

You sped walk to the backstage, trying to find your way to the commentator. Joseph was hot on your tail.

"Y/N! Where are you going?" He yells from the crowd of backstage personell. He speeds up just enough to grab your wrist.

"You're going too fast. Slow do-" The smile wipes off his face when he sees the tears running down your face. His brows crease in worry, searching your eyes for a sign of reason.

"Hey, hey, hey. Why don't we go to a more private area?" He does know you too well.

Autumn in the second grade. When Joseph still loved you and you still hated him. He found you crying in a corner near one of the bathrooms. He walked up to you that day, shrugging off his worry of your fury.

"Hey, are you okay?" He said nonchalantly, trying not to seem genuinely upset at you being genuinely upset.

You look up, teary-eyed. "Go away, Joseph."

Of course, he ignored you. Like stubborn little kids do. And he sits next to you, knees touching each other. Your tiny beating heart couldn't handle the speed of it, but it felt so nice you didn't say anything.

"I like to be alone when I cry, too..." Joseph trails off. "My mommy tells me I can't go out too much because one time a bee bit my eye, and it got puffy. She said I wasn't her beautiful boy anymore and took me to many doctors, just so she could have her beautiful boy back."

You puff out your cheeks, wiping away dried tears from them. You look down at your lap.

"I think you're a beautiful boy always. Even when you're annoying." He scrunches his nose at this.

"I'm not annoying!" He squints his eyes at you, but he sees you laughing, and he doesn't seem annoyed anymore.

He huffs and looks away. "I-I think you're a very beautiful girl, too. Always." He whispers so quietly that even if you were so close, you couldn't hear.

"What?" You say as you sniffle, looking at him with eyes he'd describe as something he'd purposefully drown in.

"N-Nothing!" He stutters out, gets up, and runs away. That was when you thought to yourself for the first time that he wasn't so bad.

You nod at his words, wiping the tears of your face. He took you to a changing room, which was gladly wide enough so you had enough space to relax. The huge couch in it helped, too.

You plop yourself down, sighing heavily. You control your breathing and close your eyes. You feel the couch dip beside you.

"...you wanna talk about it?" Joseph mutters out after a few minutes of silence.

"I'm gonna back out." You say, not bearing to see the way he was looking at you right now. You felt it seep through the room, the way he tensed next to you.

"What do you mean?" There's a shake in his voice that indicates he's unsure.

"I'm backing out." You repeat.

"...why?" You can hear it. He's angry. What does he have to be angry about?

"What do you have to be angry about?" You furrow your brows, getting enough courage to look at his frustrated face. Or worried.

"What do I have to be angry about? Y/N you- You've been talking and reviewing non-stop for this, and suddenly, you're backing out!" He stands and towers over you, and you're back in middle school still hating it.

"Yeah, well, you have no right! Plus, since I'm out, then you're in. You should be celebrating or preparing or whatever the fuck you want to be doing!"

"Why should I be celebrating when all I'm gonna be thinking about is that you're backing out for no fucking reason?!"

"Well then, stop thinking about me! You hate me that much anyway!" Joseph flinches back, a rabid emotion in his eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me." He's muttering to himself again.

"What now?" You groan out, annoyed by his previous habit.

"Me? Hating you? After all the shit we've gone through?"

What does he mean? You squint your eyes at his approaching frame.

"Sure, I hated the way you looked at me sometimes. Or the way you're always so close to beating me. Hell! I hate it when you beat me!"

You back off each step he takes closer, making your back almost near to the wall.

"But I loved you, Y/N. I love you."

No. No, no, no, no, no. No fucking way.

"Yeah. I love you. I hate that I love you. I love you so much that I hate you. The way we are, it's killing me, Y/N. Fucking ripping my heart apart everytime we keep this shit up."

You trip over your feet, the wall thudding as you exhale. A gasp gets caught on your throat when Joseph cages you in.

"You're staying in. I'm gonna go up to the commentator and tell him I'm backing out, and you're staying in. Do you understand?"

You couldn't speak. He was so close. The details you haven't seen in a decade still stay on his face. His beautiful face. Always a beautiful face.

"Do you fucking understand?!" He rasps, shaking your shoulders in desperation. He tugs his head down. "Please..."

"Yes." You couldn't help the crack on your voice. What was happening, whatever it was, you couldn't handle right now.

"Smart girl." He whispers in your ear. Then, he's gone.

March 7, 1966 - 6:32 am - Annual SHS English Quiz Bee Finals

The light patter of rain hits the windows of your car, the windshield wipers squeaking each left and right turn. The car is quiet, only sounds of water falling, and Elvis Presley's "Can't Help Falling in Love" on the radio.

"I've always seen the way he looked at you, you know?" Your father's words fill your ears. You turn your head to the drivers seat where his hands are posted on the wheel.

"What?" You ask. Your father was a man of few words, but he was always there, and always will be.

"Joseph." There's a pang on your chest. "I'm assuming that's why you were in a sour mood while we celebrated?"

You don't acknowledge him. He keeps going.

"Since the first day of school, there was something that drew him to you. Of course, I was a bit sceptical. I mean, you were my little girl. Still my little girl." He chuckles to himself, stopping the car when a road sign comes by.

"Now you're all grown up." He turns his head to look at you, letting go of the steering wheel. You look up at him hesitantly, awaiting what words would come out of his solemn mouth.

"I have to hand it to him. He's a tough kid, waiting all these years and still not trying to steal your heart."

He smacks his lips in thought, shaking his head at whatever was going on in his head.

"I'm not gonna tell you what to do. I'm gonna let you figure all this out. But let me tell you one thing." He leans in close, and you can feel the warmth of his parenthood radiate to you. "He's gonna love the hell out of you. I sure do."

The light goes green, and he drives with caution like a dad always does.

And you sit there because your dad is right. But he's wrong, too.

You always caught Joseph staring. Always caught him lingering near. Throughout preschool, middle, and high. Now college is near and you don't think you can live without that sense of him.

That supports your dad being wrong. Joseph didn't need to try to steal your heart. He already had.

"Stop the car." You blurt out. Your heart's beating more and more rapid, and you can feel it through your chest.

"What?" He mimics a question you asked earlier.

"Dad, stop the car!" The wheels squeel as they stop to the side of the road.

"What's wrong?" Your dad worries, checking to see if you're alright.

"I have to get him." You look at your dad, and all he can see is his little girl with that glimmer in her eyes when she knows what she wants. "I have to get Joseph."

He looks at you. He smiles. "I knew you'd come to your senses."

He turns the car around, heading back to town with a new objective.

And when you get there, the rain pours heavier, your heart drums faster in your ears, and all you can feel is adrenaline.

And all you hear is ringing. Even when he shows up with his head of hair messy and eyes squinting down at you. You answer even when you can't hear.

"Please." You pant. Your senses seem to come back, and you feel the clinging of wet clothes on your body, the rain hitting the porch roof. "Please come."

"Y/N-" You cut him off, grabbing his collar and connecting your lips onto his like a full blow.

Everything feels like it's on fire, the cold you felt earlier gone, and it feels like it would be forever.

You don't wait for him to kiss you back, pulling away with desperation in your eyes mixed with a bit of craze.

Joseph opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out except noises from the back of his throat like he was choking. You slowly let go of his collar, and he pulls away, back to towering over you.

He pulls two fingers up to his lips, his ajar mouth staying in place for so long that you worry if it's hurting yet.

"Wait here." He closes the door, brows furrowed in determination. The door slams, and you flinch just a bit. Not a second later, he's in front of you again, pulling you in to another kiss.

This lasted a bit longer than the other one, a bit rough around the edges from the unexpectancey of it.

"God, you're gonna kill me one day." He pulls away, closing the door again.

6:58 am

The drive there was extremely awkward. You were sat in front of your father, who was oblivious to what had just happened between you and the boy in the backseat. The silence was so tense you could cut it with a knife.

Joseph, bless his pretty heart, took with him spare uniform for you; which of course, you insisted it wouldn't fit, and he said he didn't want to see you sopping wet on the stage. So, here you are now.

"Ready kid?" Your dad asks, adjusting the too large cuffs of Joseph's uniform on your body. You look up at him, lips pursed in focus.

"Ready." You turn your head to look up at Joseph. Your dad seems to get what you want to do, excusing himself to go look for the seats.

"Hey." You say quietly, the bustling noise behind the curtains almost covering it up. Almost.

"Hi." He replies, a small smile upturned on his lips.

You cast a glimpse from the crack between the large curtains, seeing the number of people seated and walking.

"Y/N." Joseph mutters, mouth near your ear, and only then did you notice he had leaned down next to you, taking a look where your eyes were.

"Joseph, look-" He cuts you off with a small peck on your lips.

"Not now. Go focus on this and win like you always do, alright?" He cups your cheek and his hand is so warm you'd have fallen asleep right there and then.

You nod absentmindedly.

"Okay, well, good luck. Except you don't even need it." He winks, leaning back and exiting the backstage. You stay stunned in your place that you hadn't even heard the stage manager calling you to come up.

And then you aced it. All questions answered with no mistake, all glares from opponents ignored. You and the rest of the audience couldn't even believe you with the pace that you were going at. All you knew was you were there to win.

"Last question, Ms. Y/N." Here it goes.

"What is the term used for the second to the last in a series?"

Holy shit.

"A. Ultimate,"

No way.

"B. Penultimate,"

You were gonna win.

"C. Antepenultimate,"

You glance up at the audience, and you catch his eye immediately.

You do your best, or I don't want it.

"B. Penultimate."

"Ms. Y/N L/N, you are the winner of this years SHS English Quiz Bee. Congratulations!"

Cheers erupt in the stadium. Flashes of cameras blind your view, but you could only look at him. Even when the trophy was handed to you, even when the cameramen asked you to look their way.

You quickly handed the award to the competitions administrator, leaping and jumping down the stage to reach him. He was already halfway towards you.

You colide on the stair platform, the impact making him fall on the floor, his arms wrapped securely around you. You clutch on his head to remind yourself that this was real. You had won the Quiz Bee, and you had wont his heart, too.

With the sun almost fully set, the crowd slowly dissipates from the large parking lot. Your father had made his way to start the car, leaving you and Joseph in front of the buildings main entrance.

"So..." You mutter, already know what's about to happen.

"So?" He mirrors, a small smile finding a way into his face.

"Joseph, I'm sorry." Tears pool in your eyes. "I hated you so much, and I was so blind to see that you were right in front of me all along. I care a lot, and even when I was being a bitch you still stayed. How can you even like me still? How did you even like me at all?"

Joseph sighs deeply, hands coming down to hold onto yours. "I don't care about all that stuff anymore. You're here and with me. And hopefully... not hate me anymore?"

You can't help but chuckle. "Oh, I still hate you."

He raises his brows at you. "Well, that's better than nothing, right?"

You scoff with a smile. "You're stupid."

He squints down at you. "Well, if I recall, I almost beat you in the semi-"

You grab his collar and pull him down to a kiss. You don't think you'd ever get rid of that first-time kind of feeling.

He holds you like he doesn't want to let go, but does it so gently as if you'd break the second he grips too hard. And you like it. Because he cares.

Summer in kindergarten. The type of heat that choked you to the point all you wanted was a large watermelon shake to cool you off.

The same summer that was nearing the end of school. The same summer, you overheard your parents talking about moving to someplace else. The same summer you told your friends about it. The same summer Joseph knew he wasn't ready to ever let you go.

He found you in your classroom, hair all tied up whilst you were drawing on a piece of paper. Joseph hadn't ever seen something so beautiful. You were like art he could never take his eyes away from. But that summer he thought he had to, because you were leaving.

"Y/N..." His small voice caught your attention. You look up at this little boy in front of you, his face showing that his heart is currently in his sleeve. You couldn't help but worry.

"Joseph? What's wrong?" Sure you didn't really like the guy, but you were a decent human being.

He sits down next to you, trying to control his breathing. "Don't go." His eyes start to wet, and it gets blurry.

"Joseph, what do you mean?" You furrow your eyebrows, slowly going forward to hold onto his hand.

"Don't go to Italy. Don't leave me. I haven't- I haven't told you about-" how he felt. "Please dont go."

"Joseph, I-" I don't want to go either. "Stop crying..." You're hurting me.

He goes forward and holds you as he sobs on your shoulder. He held you so gently you could've fallen asleep, but so firm that you couldn't even run away. You didn't want to.

That's how Joseph was. He had always loved you. And deep in your heart, you had always loved him too.

>>>>>

A/N: this took me MONTHS???? and im still not satisfied but i need to get this out for bae (sorry it took so long) ummmmm very good very yes, yes? Akeelah and the bee is so cute and lowk so them, they r so messy but wtv guys theyre together now love them. Y/N so stupid but its for the plot guys ok. Hope u guys liked it bcs this took so long for no reason. Happy reading!!!

#joseph descamps #joseph descamps x reader #mixte 1963 #mixte1963 #enemies to lovers #slow burn #academic rivals #academic rivals to lovers #akeelah and the bee #miscommunication #angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff

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