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sweetheart | l. at
nerd!anton x nerd!reader | 5.1k words
a request i got and it kinda made me go a little insane.
contains: anton pretends to be an insecure little nerd to plot on the reader, fingering, reader is implied to be a virgin
Anton is a sweetheart. He’s non assuming and soft spoken, so quiet that he has to clear his throat each time he speaks. He’s kind, always extending the same tenderness and patience to people he received as a child. He’s one of the few men in his program that the girls didn’t have trouble approaching if they had a question or trouble with an assignment.
Each time anyone approached him with a question he was helpful, pushing his thick frames up his face before leaning to the paper. With a pencil he’d mark where the mistake was, and explaining it with a gentle voice that had girls leaning in even closer.
After they got a smell of his cologne and the look of his soft skin everything else was easy. The girls would tilt their heads in curiosity about Anton, intrigued at how someone so shy made it this far in life. How someone was so cute from afar but something more once you got close. All he had to do was avoid their eyes and chew his lip a few times before they were sliding their phones over to him.
Just in case I need help with another assignment.
Anton’s eyes would always widen in shock. Not from the surprise of being pursued but just how easy it all was. The girls never found out that Anton was red in the face from the rush and he ducked his head to hide a smile of satisfaction. They would laugh lightly seeing his reaction, observing what they thought was insecurity. Before going on about their day they’d touch his shoulder or pull on him playfully.
Anton is a sweetheart.
But he also has a problem.
He knows he does. His friends compared it to a sweet tooth that bordered addiction, or someone who would walk into a casino with a twenty dollar bill expecting to hit big. They sometimes even called Anton a psychopath when he’d get all giddy telling them about his day.
Anton knew he had a problem, but it was hard to stop when he got the sweet fix or hit the jackpot each time. Nothing could top the feeling of euphoria Anton would get when he’d come to one of those girls after they asked him to come to their place. He’d look at the messages in the comfort of his room and smile, knowing what it meant when they’d preface the study session by saying they were alone. He’s addicted to the game he’d play every time, faking the shy and insecure nerd that pretty girls were going to eat for dinner. Like they were throwing him a bone by inviting him to their apartment or dorm under the guise of doing homework.
They’d answer the door in something easy to take off or something that would cling to them like a second skin. If they were particularly desperate it’d be both, yoga pants that showed everything and a cropped shirt that rode up with every movement. Anton loved shamelessly gawking at the girls behind his glasses, shuffling from foot to foot in front of them before they invited him in. He waited for each direction, eyes darting around their room before he was invited to sit down or told to take out his notebook. He would purposefully be a step behind, showing how lost he was to be in a room that didn’t belong to him or his other intraverted friends.
He loved letting the girls make the first move. On their bed settling in as they really got a look at him in the setting of their room. Something about how clueless he was made the girls all the more strung up. He looked everywhere but at them, shrinking himself on their bed. His timidness made the girls love making the first subtle touch on his flexed arm, or purposefully grabbing his pencil so they could compare hand sizes. Anton loved acting like he was nervous wreck from the longing stares to the side of his face, like he hadn’t done this dance a million times before. He loved messing up his words while trying to act oblivious to the hungry look in their eyes. He loved the pretty smile the girls would get like he was the one falling into their trap.
His absolute favorite part was when they’d turn his head with their soft hands. Anton would falter from the eye contact, letting his lips part in confusion as they focused on him. The notebooks and assignments between them long forgotten as they shuffled closer to him on the bed.
“Have you ever been with a girl before?”
They’d always ask that. Voices light and airy, already having an answer in their mind.
“I have.”
He’d always answer with a stutter. The falter in his voice never made them push any further. They assumed by Anton’s darting eyes that the number was so minuscule asking about it would only embarrass him.
(He stopped being embarrassed of his conquests a long time ago. He also stopped being able to keep track.)
Anton is a sweetheart, with a problem of seeing pretty girls eyes flash when they realize that he is more than capable.
The moment was always the same. The mood in the room would change when Anton would sheepishly take off his oversized hoodie. Each time silence would settle over the room when they saw what he was hiding underneath. His undershirt hugged close to his body, showing the chisel and the hard work he put in at the gym. When he was feeling tired while working out he’d replay the sight of the girls taking in his toned body. They’d reach out to touch his chest as if they were expecting it all to be fake, other times they would just let out a breathless wow.
He always basked in seeing the girls try to maintain their composure. They would become the ones averting their eyes and stumbling over their words. They would be shellshocked on their side of the bed, wondering what else he was hiding. But Anton was still sweet, he always was. He would always wait patiently to see if this was really what the girls wanted. He would pick at the seam of his pants and look down to the forgotten homework to let them know they could go back to what they were doing and pretend this never happened. But the obvious bulge in his pants always made pretty girls reach for the waistband of their pants without a second thought.
Anton was never sure if they gawked at him in an attempt to get his confidence up or if they were truly surprised. As if his build and height were no indicator, each time Anton took off his pants to reveal his dick they were always so shocked. That’s when the resolve would truly fall, when their jaws would drop and they’d blink their eyes from the sheer surprise. Precum would leak from his tip just from the sight of them coming to terms with what was twitching and red and angry in front of them.
“You’re big.”
The infliction in their voice was always different. Some girls would be excited, others would be confused, a few times they almost seemed disgusted. Like there was no way the shy kid in the back of the class was hiding this.
“Am I really?”
Anton wasn’t an idiot. Even if he said it looking down at the bed, he knew that he was endowed and it was pretty. But sometimes he just needed to hear it an extra time, or look up to see a quick head nod when they couldn’t fathom saying it again. He was an insecure nerd after all. The quiet recluse in the back of class that barely had friends. An absolute sweetheart that threw girls around and manipulated their bodies into positions they didn’t even know about.
He loved being a good fuck. For a long time he believed he was put on the Earth to fuck pretty girls and to stop them from judging books by their covers. Anton was killing two birds with one stone by cooing at girls condescendingly while he gave them everything. It was his civic duty to exert his strength and to kiss girls until they were breathless and his glasses fogged. Each time he heard I didn’t know you had that in you an angel gained it’s wings. Whenever they’d tell their girlfriends what the shy nerd did to them in their dorm Anton was making the world a better place. Sometimes he would get called back, sometimes he would run through entire friend groups just to prove he was really committed to the cause.
No matter how many people Anton fucked, no one seemed to believe it. Like it was collective psychosis that the nerd was a good lay, or a big open secret everyone was hush about. Anton was still treated like he was meek, his soft nature made everyone believe he was an open book, so much to the point that they made wrong judgements about his character. He actually hated staying inside and enjoyed exploring the city and trying new things with his friends. He was a sensitive person but he could also advocate for himself and admit when he was wrong. He was quiet, but only because he valued personal, quiet conversations more than anything.
He eventually learned that people’s preconceived notions of him couldn’t be helped. Anton could fuck the entirety of the campus and people would still treat him like he was made of glass. He decided to be an optimist, finding the silver lining in people assuming he was the sweetheart with a cute smile. Their perception of him could’ve been worse, being shy was infinitely better than being loud and obnoxious. So when people would assume things about Anton’s personality he would only react positively. He would let his eyes go wide, acting shocked when someone would tell him about their first impression of him.
“I thought you were an asshole at first.”
You told Anton nonchalantly, as if his whole world didn’t crumble. You didn’t even spare him a second glance as you wrote on your lab report. You were too busy adjusting the calculations and reading over the proper way to dispose the chemicals a million times to make sure it was right while Anton sputtered to himself. He was caught off guard by your honesty and surprisingly quick answer as if it was on the forefront of your mind. You only tilted your head up for a second before you had the answer.
Anton didn’t know what to do about you. Just when he thought he had seen every girl in his major you came along, sitting in the back of class with him. You seemed to be the recluse of a person everyone mistook Anton for. You were in and out of class, not bothering to raise your hand during discussions or to socialize with your peers. You also didn’t seem to latch onto him like other girls of his major did. When they looked for Anton’s face in the lecture hall you walked right past him, not bothering to look up from your notebook or laptop. For the first time in his life Anton felt compelled to make the first move. He thought that you two had built up a good rapport, and that you saw him as your kindhearted and resigned classmate.
But you saw him as anything but that. You said it confidently too, and loud enough for your classmates at the next lab table to look over.
“What do you mean?” Anton said quietly.
You frowned looking up from the pamphlet. You were visibly annoyed, you even motioned to the undisposed chemicals to show him that you two still had class.
“Can we talk about this when our grade isn’t at stake, please?” You asked.
You weren’t commanding for his benefit. You weren’t taking into account that he might be afraid to hear a negative opinion about himself. You weren’t looking at him like girls had before, like you were trying to pick him apart for your own entertainment. You were willing to put validation for Anton on the back burner because you had other things to do. When Anton would have girls gush over him you were benevolent, indifferent to his fake insecurities.
The more you paid attention to your work rather than him, Anton found himself scrambling. He was working hard for your affection. When the teacher announced that class was over and lab reports were due the next morning he leapt at the chance to invite himself over. He was supposed to be shy and insecure, getting nervous over the mere thought of being alone with the opposite sex. His facade went over your head. Instead, Anton watched you do the cost-benefit analysis of inviting him over before you shrugged your shoulders.
“Alright. Just follow me.” You said before setting a ridiculously fast paced speed walk to the other side of campus.
But Anton followed you. He bobbed and weaved through crowds and essentially chased you across the common area while you continued on your pace. Other girls would walk with Anton, trying to pry information out from his clammy hands. You barely spared a second glance over your shoulder like you were trying to lose him. Anton followed you all the way to your dorm, then up the stairs, then waited for you beside your door as you put your backpack on your desk and pulled up a chair next to yours. You didn’t extend an invitation towards Anton to take a seat.
He waits for you to step in. He’s laid the trap by taking off his hoodie even though you kept your room cold, and shuffled his seat closer to yours. He put his elbows on the table next to yours coming closer to the lines you stopped writing on your paper.
He laid the trap. He can see you hesitate, looking from him to the assignment and then back to him. Anton keeps his eyes on the paper, rubbing his fingers over his lips to stop himself from smiling.
“Do you work out?” You asked.
Your voice didn’t have the sultry infliction that girls usually had when they asked him that question. You didn’t reach across and squeeze his toned bicep or shamelessly drag your eyes over his broad shoulders. You asked the question simply, no other intention except for wanting an answer.
“I do. Sometimes.” Anton said.
You only hummed and went back to your paper. Anton scooted closer to you, hoping his Le Labo Lavande 31 and the hand across the back of your chair was invading your space enough for you to really get a good look at him. Anton watched your eyes dart again. You were nervous, eyes wide and Anton felt the rush.
“You smell nice.” You said.
The line was pulled from the trap. You’re caged in and Anton looks to you. He knows about the death grip you have on your pencil, it makes him brave enough to invade your space even more.
“You forgot to write your observations here.” Anton says, trying to make lab reports as sexy as possible.
This assignment would’ve been abandoned a long time ago. If this was anyone else it would’ve never made it out of their backpack. You were adamant about your work, looking at the tips of his pretty fingers where you left a spot blank. He should have his report out too. He should be writing something just like you try to, instead Anton leans closer and he swears the pencil in your hand is going to break from the pressure.
Is this how he should’ve been acting with those girls all that time? This is real nerves rolling off your body. The anxiety almost makes Anton nervous by extension, he shivers when he finally lets his hand on the back of your chair touch your body. You stiffen and he’s amazed. You went from being indifferent to being too aware. He feels you back away slightly, but when his hand tightens on your shoulder you lean in. You’re hot and cold, not knowing what you want. He can feel you tremble, and your eyes dart from his eyes to his lips.
“I’ve never done anything before.”
Anton comes closer. His hand that pointed at a random thing on your paper turns into a fist as he distracts you completely. He brings himself forward until he’s in your line of sight, even when you try so hard to look at anything but him. He smirks when your eyes dart past him, and he fully lets his arm rest across your back. You’re malleable, before you refused to even bend to him but now you move from his slightest touch.
“What do you mean?” He asks. “You’ve never done what before?”
He should go for the nerds more often. The way you already seem sweaty and antsy just from thinking about what is happening makes Anton want to play with you some more. He knows it’s perverse, like a dog playing a smaller animal to death. He wants to see if you’ll twitch, if you’re playing dead just to try and make a run for it.
“I’ve never—I know that—” Anton raises his eyebrows and nods to each one of your broken statements. “It just seems like—”
“Like what?” He smiles and nudges you. His smile is toothy, yours is tightlipped to a straight line. “C’mon. Talk to me.” He continues.
“You smell really good.” You repeat.
You’re the twitching body of a mouse in his jaws. He just smile and nods at your statement, how you go back to saying old things in an attempt to catch your footing. He forces you to sit in the uncomfortable silence. He waits for you to say something knowing you can’t, he waits for you to touch him even if you’re caught like a deer in the headlights.
“I look good too, right?” He starts drawing shapes on your shoulder.
He’s having too much fun. He’s entertained seeing your intelligence fail you. You’re stumped, you drop your pencil to fully clench your fist.
The pencil is rolling back and forth on your lab report, the small sound is the only thing that speaks. You’re still desperately trying to figure out how you got into this situation, how one thing led to another so quickly that his hand is reaching underneath the sleeve of your shirt.
“You look good, Anton.” You agree.
“Thanks.” Anton smiles and you do too, averting your eyes and nodding to yourself to feign indifference. Anton looks down to your shirt, still playing with your skin underneath your sleeve. “You do too.” He says.
Another bout of silence. You let yourself be touched, hands still clenched on top of the table. Anton rests his hand on top of your fist, smoothing over the protruding veins trying to coax them open. This is more fulfilling than playing with popular girls. The game still hasn’t ended for him. He’s on the fifth consecutive jackpot when you finally open your mouth again.
“I don’t.” Your hand opens and Anton clasps over it, smiling to himself when it disappears. “I don’t know what you want me to do.” You stutter.
You’re too cute for your own good. Finally you look at him with big eyes and your eyebrows raised. You give into his touches a little more, finally warming up to all the attention. Still your pupils shake, and Anton brings his hand from your shoulder to your face to keep you from turning away.
“Can I make you feel good?” He asks.
You could barely nod before Anton was guiding you up from your chair and backing you towards your bed. He watched you stumble when the back of your legs hit the edge. You looked up at him, your pretty eyes already looking wet. Maybe he really did have a problem. Because he loved seeing them widen in surprise when he put his hands underneath your arms, lifting you up just enough to set you on the edge of your bed. He loved seeing your jostled expression and the tiny yelp when you landed so perfectly on your sheets.
Anton watched you stay in place, catching your breath from the sudden movement. He watched your chest still as his hands went to the bottom of his tank top. He’s grateful to have such a captive audience. There’s no way he can pretend to be shy after this. You’re astonished as he slowly lifts his shirt, and he watched you shamelessly stare at him before you realized he could see you.
Anton let you eat him alive before he came up to you, until you had to tilt your head upwards to see him. You didn’t dare lift your hands from the bed, like he was going to disappear the moment you touched him. Like he was straight from a dream you only looked up to him, waiting for what he was going to do next. Anton wonders if you thought you’d end up in this position, with him looming over you and his hand creeping to a spot under your chin. He absolutely can’t stop doing this. The view is too pretty, your stillness is addicting. Like you’re too afraid to even breathe too loud in case it’d break the tension. He bends closer to your lips, eyes still open after you screw yours shut. You preemptively grip your mattress for dear life and he can’t help but smile.
He smiles into the kisses, each peck bringing you closer and closer to your mattress. When your back is against the sheets Anton climbs on, refusing the break contact. You look so pretty underneath him, eyes squeezing shut again when another wave of realization hits you. You’ve never been in this position before, with someone like Anton looming over you while still being so sweet. He runs his hand over the apple of your cheek, and fixes your shirt that left your stomach exposed.
“Is this okay?” Anton asks.
He knows it is, because your legs seemed to spread a little bit more and more with each passing second. By the time his hand drifts down to your neck you’re completely open, your soft pants bunching at the place Anton wants to touch you next. The valley of your chest gives him a straight path down, and your bent legs open further.
“Want me to touch you?” He asks.
He knows he’s cruel. You’re metaphorically dead and his face is covered in blood, but still he continues. He’s jumping around your body, reaching out a playful hand like you have the life to play back.
“Please touch me.” You whine pitifully.
Anton presses a chaste kiss to your forehead as his hands work past the elastic band of your pants and underwear. You flinch from his hands, then you preen your hips towards his fingers, then you pull back. He’s mocking when he coos at you, the time pressing a kiss to the side of your head. He almost feels bad. You’re clearly fighting against something, your eyes are shut tight as you press your head into the mattress. Anton tries kissing your eyes open, but it only makes you squeeze them tighter.
With you writhing underneath him, he took the time to look around your room. Your little pegboard above your desk where you had calendar marked with all the important due dates of upcoming assignments. Your neatly placed books and papers, your stuffed animals around your pillows. You didn’t make your bed this morning, instead laying on crumbled sheets and gripping whatever you could get your hands on. Your hand went to Anton’s forearm and clutched it, whimpering something that he couldn’t decipher.
“Does it feel good?” He asks.
You nod, and when Anton tries to pull away he feels your nails dig into his forearm. You seem unaware of what you’re doing, how you’re silently begging him to keep going. You’re just moving underneath him, already beginning to twitch helplessly. Anton purposefully pushes his fingers deeper into your clit until he knows he’s bringing you the smallest amount of pain. He’s pulling the strings, watching your body react to him because you can’t control it. By this point the girls would already be asking him to take his pants off, but you can’t even form a coherent thought. He’s having fun in his jeans, watching you twitch and twist and grip his arm with all your might.
“Anton.”
You flick your hips up and he presses his hand to your hip, pinning you to the bed. You still try to swivel, useless against his strength. He’s intrigued that you aren’t trying to be defiant but you simply can’t help it. All the other girls were pliant immediately, so desperate to please the quiet boy in class they underestimated. You’re defiant because you can’t handle it.
“What’s up?” He asks.
His completely even voice makes you whine. The flush across your cheeks tells him you’re embarrassed, red hot and real unlike his facade.
You don’t answer him. You just dig your nails into his arm and attempt to get his prodding fingers to slide in. He raises his eyebrows at your not-so-subtle attempts to get him to inside of you.
“You want me to finger you?” He asks.
You nod like a good girl and Anton almost feels bad for asking you the question in a mocking tone. He makes up for it by giving you what you want immediately, sucking in a deep breath to match your deep breath. He smiles when he sees you arch off the bed. This is so much more entertaining than anything else. Just two fingers has you making unfiltered noises and gripping the sheets. Anton has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing, and he has half a mind to ask you if you’re okay in a serious tone. But he just continues driving his fingers into your hole.
He picks up the speed, just to hear the lewd sound you two make. It’s wet, Anton can already feel the mess on the palm of his hand. He pulls your waistband down to your knees, bringing your thighs closer together. He has to fight against your soft thighs clenching around his hand. He’s still able to drive his fingers in and out of your heat. He likes the resistance even though you clearly want more. Anton is surprised when you lift your shirt on your own accord. It’s obvious you’re doing it to relieve some of the heat you feel, but he’s still flattered nonetheless. His hand presses against your stomach, applying force to the lowest part.
“I can’t.” You whimper.
That’s when Anton finally laughs. He chuckles at how panicked you sound and how you turn your head in embarrassment.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asks while picking up the speed of his hand.
You nod your head but when Anton tries to pull his hand away you clench your thighs to keep him in place. He chuckles again, situating one legs on the side of your body and the other between your closed legs. He casts a shadow on you below him, and he can see your eyes open the slightest bit from his movements. He drives your legs apart with his knee, and continues pumping that spot deep in you that leaves you shaking your head.
“I can’t.” You whimper.
“You can.” Anton sees your eyes open, wide and staring directly at him as he drives your legs apart further. “You’re so close.” He says.
Your entire body moves from the speed of his fingers. Even your chests jumps underneath your shirt, and he wants to lift it up to reveal the rest of you. He lets you take it at your own pace since you’re giving him so much already. He just pinches and grabs a handful of your stomach, marveling in how soft you are.
“So cute.” Anton coos. “You had no idea, right?” He asks.
You shake your head and you don’t stop shaking it, like you’re trying to will away your impeding orgasm. Anton watches all of it. He’s never had a pretty girl twitch for him so much, or reach a greedy hand up to grip your chest. Something you do when you’re close, something he wants to do for you. His hand superimposes yours, and grips harder too. You’re arching into his palm and preening your hips on his fingers, and then he watches your body go rigid.
“You’re cumming.” Anton teases.
Your whimpering yes rips through the room, and Anton feels wound up himself. He has to set his sights on something else. Pretty confident girls are fun, but seeing your shame manifest in the way you push and pull at him is much more intoxicating. He likes that he knows what you want but you’re too scared to say it, it’s your body that has to act on its own to fulfill your needs. When you continue going, and your strangled moans turn to broken oh my God’s and your legs start shaking, Anton knows he won’t be able to get enough. He keeps pushing you further because he knows you can take it, and you continue whimpering. He doesn’t stop until you sound panicked, and your hand starts pushing his away.
He still looks down at you with a smile on his face. Your head is turned towards your fluffy comforter, exhaling and inhaling so hard you move the fur with your breath. He’s satisfied seeing what he’s done to you, and he’s even more amused when you turn your head to face him.
Your eyes are wide, your lips are swollen and slick from your mindless drooling. Anton feels something in his chest when your eyes move past his body to the prominent bulge in his pants. He’s a step ahead, shaking his head and moving back to rest on his haunches. That comes later, when he plays with you some more and you start voicing how badly you want to please him. When you reach your hand towards his crotch Anton grabs your hand instead, intertwining your fingers.
“I just wanted to make you feel good.” He says.
He’s a sweetheart, after all.
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#BLINGEE#GLITTER#GLITTER GIF#GLITTER EDIT#GLITTER GRAPHICS#GLITTERCORE#SPARKLES#SPARKLE GIF#SPARKLECORE#OLD WEB#OLD WEBCORE#WEBCORE#Y2K#Y2KCORE#Y2K NOSTALGIA#NOSTALGIACORE#CUTECORE#SANRIO#POMPOMPURIN#FLASHING#REQUESTZ
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Imagine MK9 Smoke gets protective around his MK1 counterpart because MK1 Smoke is just so baby 😆
I can see it
#smoke#tomas vrbada#mk9#mk1#mortal kombat#mortal kombat 1#mortal kombat 9#doodlez#questionz#requestz
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Request from @xx-scene-queen-of-vampires-xx
Qotd: Have you ever lost your voice at a concert from screaming? Who were you seeing?
#requestz#2000s emo#emo#2000s scene#emo aesthetic#rawring 20s#rawring twenties#2000s aesthetic#2000s nostalgia#scene#bandom#concerts
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peyote and fullbody if thats okaaay....
here it is! i hope you like it!!!
No border
Border
#added the border one partially bc it makes it a lil bit more visible lol#also i have no idea what this kittys name is uhhh#leviathan answerz#requestz#sandcreek#sandpaw#warrior cats#kandi#kandi making#kandi kid#kandi bracelet#kandicore#kandi cuff#kandi patterns#kandi charm#kandi mask#kandi beads#sparkledogzvom1t#mine
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I'm gonna be busy 4 like the next three weeks so if i'm late with requests i'm sorry😔
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HI UH- SO I REALLY LIKE YOUR ART STYLE AND JUST THOUGHT MAYBE YOU WOULD POSSIBLY CONSIDER DRAWING ATHENA OR POLITES FROM EPIC THE MUSICAL?? THATS ALL HAVE A NICE DAY/NIGHT ❤️❤️
AWWHH TYSM!! i offer you all Pallas Athena!! i haven;t fully dived deep into epic yet—but i have read the odyssey!! i should listen to it yes…..
#YESYES I SEE ALL UR REQUESTS I’LL GET TO ALL OF THOSE SOON!!!!#greek mythology art#greek mythos#greek myth art#greek mythology fanart#greek mythology#fanart#art#greek gods#athena#pallas athena#epic the musical#epic the musical fanart#<- i think??#greek god designs#i rushed this sorry if it’s slopy i’m like half asleep rn typing this out#TYSM AGAIN!!#!requestz#the odyssey
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New Romantics | Mbappé [7]
» summary: in which an arrogant and talented football player (the best of his time as some say) and a focused and harsh critic of a journalist are gonna have to find a way to co-exist.
« previous chapter
» chapter 7: Play My Ace
» writers note: chapter 7 about a story with a man with the number 7, the day after PSG scored 7 goals, that starts with number 7 on the first line. This is witch craft at its best. This page is meant as a passage to the deeper plots. Lmk what you think xx
» Taglist: @moonchildohh @formulahoe @princetongirlll818 @mavieesttriste16 @kiwisa @godessstela @hummusxx @kodzuvk @pink-manz @corbyns-smile @ippid @jayruiewo265738 @blueanfield @mrs-bellingham @sorceresski @sooblovebot @okayymochi @army7g @j-rbps @heli991113 @markhyucksmells @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @i0veless @photmath @http-isabela @rainytelevisionfilmwagon @formula101x @neymarloverxxx @cepolar @freespirit-51 @marialikescherries @superswaggycooch
GALTIER'S OFFICE - DAY
“What about number 7?”
Taylor felt as if her feet were glued on the floor. Her eyes stayed on the folder that Galtier was holding. Like she was hoping that the missing report would magically appear out of thin air, as if she hoped that this was a dream and if she looked carefully enough she’d wake up. None of those things happened, she just continuing staying still in front of her very confused boss, looking like a silly person. Her mind began wondering back to the night before, she had left the folder on her desk, just before she went in the shower. She had counted all the reports at least 10 times just to make sure they were all there. Then she said goodbye to Trish and Trish left and she went back to the bathroom and then- he happened.
“Please god tell me to leave.”
Why didn’t she?
“Wilock are you alright?” Galtier asked, waking her up from her trance. She realized she had closed her eyes and that her face was probably giving away the mess that was going on in her mind. She walked around the desk and reached for the folder, looking at the reports one by one. Searching for Kylian’s. She went through all of them with her finger, again and again. Until she came in terms with the fact that it was gone, she let her hands hang and left the files on the desk. She looked at Marquinhos for help, in truth she wanted to start crying because the only scenario that made sense was Kylian having stolen the report. That sort of betrayal stunk deep, especially while she could still feel his hands on her body, his palms on her hips, holding her whole. His lips on her neck, her hands on his short curls, her mouth on his, telling him secrets about herself in ways she hadn’t told anyone in a long time. The blood had completely left her face just in the thought, Marcos must have seen it.
“It must have fallen over the bed.” He said, jumping in to help her. “Right, Taylor?”
She gulped “yeah.” She tried hard to recollect herself, looking only at Marquinhos because he was the only kind of comfort she had. She even considered hugging him because she was sure eventually her feet would give in. Marquinhos nodded at her, reminding her about the person next to her. She looked at him, her expression turning icy again “I’m really sorry. I must have left it on the desk, I’ll get it to you tomorrow morning”
“Things like that happen.” Marcos added, looking at Galtier much more relaxed than she was “We are not gonna get to finish reading these until tomorrow anyway, it won’t make a difference.” He looked at Taylor. Gratefulness was pouring from her eyes. “Have it here tomorrow Taylor.”
“Yes of course.”
Galtier stood up, fixing his suit and huffing “Tragedies seem to follow you around Ms. Wilock. I hope your talent is worth it.” He eyed her, up and down “We’ll meet you downstairs. Go find the boys.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. She left the office, maybe a little too quick but she didn’t care. She sprinted down the hallways, looking left and right to find him. He was here somewhere, she would get her hands on him eventually. Then it dawned on her if he had seen the reports maybe he knew the whole story, maybe he knew exactly who she was. She stopped, her entire body freezing in the empty halls. She could see the exit door, he was out there, she knew it. But did she really want to face him in front of everyone, and what if he had already said everything to everyone? What if all the boys hated her now? “oh Jesus…” she whispered, her hand running down her face. She held on her head, pulling back her hair, she could rip them off right now and she wouldn’t care.
A hand on her shoulder. She jumped. Turned around.
“You alright Princessa?”
Her eyes softened when she saw Ney. His eyes comforting as always, they had really become friends in the last few days. When she counted down all her possible losses from this lie, he was the bigger one. But he was still smiling at her, so he didn’t know.
“I need to tell you something.” She said.
“Can it wait till lunch? I’m late.” He squeezed her shoulder three times and pecked her cheek quickly “I’ll see you out there” he said, smiling and started running outside.
“Wait…” she murmured but it wasn’t loud enough. Perhaps on purpose. She stood watching him until someone bumped against her shoulder, passing by her. She looked up-
“HEY YOU!” She yelled when she saw him. But Kylian didn’t stop, he didn’t even spare a glance for her. She hesitated before following him outside, picking up her pace. When they were in the outside area she grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her. He yanked her hand away, his dark eyes settling on her. He was holding his gloves on his hands, about to put them on.
“What do you want?”
“Did you take it?” she questioned, getting closer at him, she held her head back while he looked down at her.
“No idea what you are talking about.” He said, shrugging his shoulders and walking away. She scoffed, unable to believe that this was actually happening to her. He went outside, pushing the door open. She followed him.
“You know I knew you were a pig but not this much” she yelled, when she stepped outside. That made everyone look. Kylian stopped his pace and turned around to face her. She got in his face quickly and pushed him on the shoulders. Neymar and Hakimi ran to them. Kylian laughed at her “You should be ashamed”
“I am the one who should be ashamed?” he asked, his eyes widening “What about you TJ?” he asked, eying her up and down.
“Do not fucking call me that!” she yelled, launching herself forward to hit him again but Neymar, quickly slipped his arm around her, pulling her back. The rest of the team was approaching them slowly, and the ones that weren’t approaching them were watching carefully.
“I’m sorry you have so many names, sometimes I get them mixed up.” He said and he said it so coldly that it felt like am insult. Like he had been betrayed. She yanked Neymar’s arm away and launched forward at him again but she was stopped by Messi this time. Who put himself between them.
“What is going on?” he asked, holding her still. She ignored him, looked over his shoulder at Kylian.
“I’d spit on you but you’re not even worth that”
“You look tired, did you get any sleep last night?” he asked, in a way testing her and she would have gone for another round if it wasn’t for Galtier showing up behind them. It was Neymar that warned her, whispering in her ear and making her turn in Galtier’s direction. Thankfully he was engaged in a conversation with Marquinhos so he didn’t notice the chaos at first. But when he saw everyone gathered around, he raised his eyebrows.
“Everything ok, here?” Asked Galtier. None of them said anything “I don’t suppose you told them without us, Ms. Wilock?”
She wanted the earth to swallow her whole. She wanted to run, move to another country, change her name and her entire appearance if she had to. Kylian made a step forward, he looked more interested than anyone else. She glanced at him, crossing her arms right in front of her chest.
“Tell us what?” Asked Neymar, putting his arm around her shoulder. God she felt so dirty.
Kylian smiled, he knew what was coming.
“Well for the last few weeks we’ve been testing something along with her—”
“Was it our patience?” joked Verratti but he only got the side eye from Galtier.
“As some of you may have already noticed, Taylor has been very involved in your training and the games.” Kylian looked down, finally putting on his gloves. God was he going to enjoy the truth coming out, everyone finding out she’s the writer they all hate. It’s what she deserved for the lies she had said, everyone finding out she was jw— “That’s because she was never here only to write about it.” Wait what? He looked up, confused with where this was going “She’s gonna be part of the coaching crew.” His eyes shot up, he looked straight at her. She was avoiding his gaze at all costs. He looked at Galtier, Marquinhos. His mouth dropping open. Then back at her.
“What?” he asked, his voice coming out louder than he expected.
“This has to be a joke.” Verratti laughed, it was an awkward laugh.
Neymar pulled away to look at her.
“Miss Taylor Wilock, was a professional player like you. She was in Chelsea and very close to joining her national team.”
“yeah we already knew about that part.” Said Verratti
“I assure you her experience is the one we are looking for along of course with her talent in analyzing both the games and the players, as all of you must have realized by now.”
“Why wouldn’t you tell me that?” Questioned Neymar, a smile playing on his lips in contrast to Kylian whose expression has remained in shock while he was adding everything up. Including the fact that the report he had taken was always meant for Galtier. And the fact that he had fucked one of his coaches, but that was a whole other conversation.
“I’m the one the offered her the job after reading her work.” Continued Galtier “Marquinhos was the one with the initial idea.”
She still couldn’t look at anybody, she was staring at the grass, digging on it with her foot. She was basically cuddling herself. Excepting the next bomb to go off.
“Not just a chipmunk after all, ha?” Smiled Ramos. He walked over to her, putting out his hand for her “knew you had it in you.” She looked at it but didn’t take it.
“I can’t believe this!” Neymar said, smiling. He cuddled her head, rubbing the top “smallest coach I’ve ever had.”
“I expect you to treat her with the equal respect you treat all your other coaches Number 10. No matter her size or gender.”
“She certainly has my respect” Said Messi. “she’s proved herself more than ones.”
Kylian watched most of the team, gathering around her to congratulate her. He was the only one that knew the whole truth wasn’t out yet, he had to watch through her mocking everyone in their face again. He couldn’t stand it.
“Where did you read her work?” he asked, everyone looking at him now. She released herself from Neymar to look at him also. He almost fell sorry for her by the way her eyes settled on him but he was too angry to care. “Thought she was just the assistant.” It was so cruel, the way that he said it. It was so obvious too. Everyone made a step back, silence falling around them. It was like he had raised a gun on her head, the puling hitting her on the head.
“Wait…” Neymar whispered. He hands dropped away from her, he was calculating everything along with everyone else.
“Since we are revealing things, Taylor would you like to tell the boys that the way you managed to get this job was by digging a hole for each one of us.” She didn’t say anything. Neymar’s eyes were too heavy for her to bare. As was Ramos look of disappointment. “Golden girl, not so golden, hm?” he threw her words back at her as any cruel man would.
“Enough with the theatricals please.” Ordered Galtier, seeing how everyone was excitement, if there ever was any, was leaving their faces. No one seemed too happy now, there was anger, sadness, puzzlement and disbelief. “Back to training. All of you. Coach Wilock” God that sounded weird “Has made a schedule for everyone today. I suggest you follow it, not that you have a choice” he laughed, smiling “Go!” That was a last warning for everyone. He left after it and some of the boys remained exactly where they were.
Taylor tried to reach for Neymar but he shook her hand away without saying anything. He ran on the field, away from her. Kylian was the last one to stay, their eyes meeting in silence. Both of them traitors and betrayed in the deepest way anyone can betray and be betrayed. It would have been an emotional confrontation if they both weren’t so stubborn at showing emotions to each other. He drew away, back at his team and training started under the most broken environment there ever had been on this field. Marquinhos came up behind her, giving her a red jacket. She looked at it.
“Its tradition. All coaches have one. Makes it easier to see you when you are yelling at them. Got a whistle in there too.”
“I’m not gonna yell at them” she said, taking the jacket and looking at it. Her fingers stroking the fabric like it was a uniform.
“Give it an hour” he smiled.
“I think I should be gentle for now. Till they trust me again.”
“I mean Galtier was right, they don’t have a choice.” He patted her on the back and ran on the field.
During training she noticed how Kylian would do his own things on purpose, not following the schedule. She tried to get near the guys a few times. Starting short conversations and correcting them kindly, like she used to before anyone found out the truth. She tried to get near Neymar as well, he’d barely look at her but at least he listened when she told him to focus on his right leg. Comments and laughs didn’t escape her ear, mostly from Verratti and his crew. She’d ignore them but they were piling up.
Kylian was running in between the cones with the ball, Verratti following behind him.
“fucking JW.” He said. Kylian offered him a quick glance, before stopping and holding the ball still with his leg. “can you believe it?” He looked at taylor, she was occupied talking with Messi. “how did you find out?” he asked.
Kylian didn’t know how to answer that. He shrugged his shoulders and motioned his hands like he was giving an answer but he wasn’t really saying anything. He was just making sounds “you know…I” he cleared his throat “just saw her notebook, and her name and did the math.”
Verratti nodded and Kylian got out of the conversation as fast as he could. Because thinking of the night he spent with her, it was making his skin itch. Holding her, touching her. Their legs tangled around the sheets—
“where did you find the notebook?” Asked Hakimi, having listened on the conversation. His friend looked at him as he stopped running. “she left early yesterday.” His silence was a good enough answer for Hakimi, who got closer so no one else could hear him. “don’t know what happened but fix your story before you get yourself and her in real trouble.”
At this point he didn’t really care about her but If the truth was to come out, considering the circumstances it would be ugly. He still hadn’t processed fully the situation, the brutal truth; he slept with his coach.
TRAINING CAMPUS / KITCHEN – LATER
Just like the first day she got there when she entered the cafeteria, silence fell. It was a cold silence, much heavier and personal. The looks were colder. She ignored them, same way she had been ignoring everything all day. She went to the counter and took her dish. She sat on a table alone, taking out her notebook and started rereading her previous notes just to keep herself occupied.
Kylian came in a while later, laughing. God was his laugh annoying to her ears at that point. He sat a few tables away from her with Hakimi, Ramos and Verratti. Sometimes he’d glance at her and that’s how she knew they were talking about her. Giggling and mocking her probably. It was driving her insane but she swallowed it too. Then his laugh got louder, nothing in the world could have been as funny. He was provoking her. She looked over at Marquinhos who shrugged his shoulders, like he was asking her why the hell she was putting up with this. That reminded her, she’d never put up with it a few weeks ago. The laughs and the jokes, the disrespect. She thought if they’d treat her the same if she was a man. Probably not. She couldn’t keep swallowing it anymore. She got up, getting her glass of water with her. She walked over to his table, standing behind him and with a simple movement, twisted her glass so the liquid would fall on him. Flowing from his head to his shirt. Gasps were heard all around the room, snorts and chuckles, people grasping their mouth so they wouldn’t laugh. Like she had done something bad, but oh why did it feel so good?
It took Kylian a few long minutes to react. He got up slowly, turning around to face her. Their high difference wasn’t at all intimidating to her, if anything it was entertaining putting him in his place despite it.
“Number 7, please go change. You look like shit and you’ll get a cold. We can’t afford that. Your lunch is over and I need you back on the field.”
He laughed “that’s not happening.”
“You have 5 seconds, otherwise I’ll add another 2 hours on your day’s training.”
He laughed again “who do you think you are?”
“Your coach, in case you missed the memo. 3 seconds by the way.” she said looking at her hand watch. My god, he thought, she is serious, but he didn’t move. Everyone was watching closely, waiting for their next move. Taylor looked up at him, smiling. “That’s another 2 hours for you then.”
Verratti stood up, standing by his friend. Hakimi pulled him down, the same second, by his sleeve, forcing him to sit before he said anything.
“you can’t do this.” He protested.
She kept her eyes on him but called for Marquinhos “Marcos can I?”
Marcos laid back on his chair, smiling “I mean you are a coach, so if you think it’s necessary, yes.” He took a piece of bread, taking a bite. “do you think it’s necessary?”
“Absolutely.” She grinned.
“I’ll go to Galtier with this.”
“Can he go to Galtier with this?” she asked
“Technically he can. I doubt it will be in his favor.” Said Marquinhos.
Kylian looked at Marquinhos from the corner of his eye and he gave him a teasing wave in return.
She smiled “why don’t you go change golden boy. Hate seeing you wet like this.”
Kylian bit on his tongue like he was stopping himself from going to far with his words. “think twice before you start a war like this Wilock.”
She made a step forward, her gaze as judgy and dangerous as it had always been “You didn’t, why would I?”
“you’ll regret this.”
“Too busy regretting other things.” She hissed, showing him her teeth and making sure he could sense the way her eyes were burning as she scanned him. “Not gonna say it again. Go change.”
Hakimi tried to hold Verratti down but this time he jumped of his seat, getting on Taylor’s face “This is bullshit.” Hakimi lowered his head on his palms, groaning.
“Wanna join him Number 6?” she warned, her attention settling on him. “In fact, how about your whole crew here joins? Ramos do you feel like an extra two hours? You could work on your freekick—”
“Verratti sit the fuck down.” Said Ramos.
Kylian put out his hand, motioning for Verratti to sit. He gave Taylor one last threatening look and left the cafeteria, with his head held high. Small chatters began after his exit, taylor reached on her pocket, taking out her whistle and hanging it around her neck. She looked at Verratti, reaching for the unfinished apple on his tray. She held it up for him. “from now on you play by my rules, or you don’t play at all. Finish your apple, you have a long day ahead of you.” She smiled, handing it to him. She walked towards the exit, stopping right in front of the door. She blew the whistle, making everyone jump as they looked at her.
“Believe it or not I’m here to help. And in the last few weeks I’ve grown to care for this team . I understand that some of you were hurt and confused. I get it even. but if you let it risk your progress then it’s on you. Because I’m not about to play around.”
None of them said anything, some of them were smiling, some were pouting, some of them couldn’t even look at her but all of them came to the same realization. She’s here to stay.
She blew the whistle one more time, making everyone jump again. “You have 20 minutes to finish your meal. Last one on the pitch gets a 100 push ups.”
Taylor ran down the stairs, looking for Kylian because she certainly wasn’t done with him. She looked on the locker rooms first, all of them. she eventually found him on the bathrooms.
He was standing in front of the mirror, naked from the waist up while he was changing his shirt. She walked in, shutting the door and blowing her whistle. Both noises scaring him enough to turn around, mid putting his shirt- and even slightly jumping. Finally she was the one scaring them, and she was having fun.
“What is wrong with you?” he asked, his tone way angrier than before and way more honest now that they were alone.
“Where is my fucking report?” she asked coldly.
“wanna do this when I’m dressed?” he argued.
“Nothing special I haven’t seen before.”
He laughed, turning his back on her. She went closer, blew the whistle on his ear, he screamed, turning back around and waving his shirt, almost hitting her “Who the hell gave you that?”
“Give me back my report.”
“Where do you think I have it, up my ass?”
She laughed ironically “No obviously not. Your ass is not big enough to fit it as far as I remember” He grinned, scoffing. She made a step forward “so what did you do with it?”
“must have fallen over somewhere, don’t worry I’ll tell Galtier personally—” She slapped him before he could even process it. He had a feeling that slap wasn’t meant just for the missing report. He rubbed his cheek, looking away from her, while his breathing got heavier. “You know, I can file a complaint over this coach—”
“Shut up.” She warned “shut up because I swear to god I really, really wanna punch you in the face right now and I have to go against every fiber of my being not to.” She closed her eyes “GOD!” she yelled, stepping away from him, stretching her fingers to resist the need to slam them against his face “How could I fall for this—”
“You’re the victim here? Really? After all the lies you told in my face—to them also! But especially to me, all your advices about not listening to the world, not struggling for their expectation when you were the one that would set them as high! You knew what you were doing to me and you kept fucking doing it—”
“I was writing what I was seeing! And what I was seeing was a talent going to waste with mid level performances—”
“Mid level performances? Seemed to me my performance last night left you satisfied.” He cut her off, topping her voice. She felt dirty, so did he. But they were on a mission to make each other feel dirtier.
“Yeah..” she spat out “it was a great performance. Have you considered an acting career? Think you’ll need a new one anyway the way you are going.” He drew his lower lip between his teeth, chewing on it. “I mean…” she snorted “Sleeping with somebody to steal a fucking report. Is that how desperate you are—”
He held tighter on his shirt, searching for her eyes, processing her accusation. “that’s what you think?” his forehead creased when he got no reply, a line appearing between his brows “you think I slept with you to get the report?”
She shook her head “no, don’t do that. Do not mess with my head.”
“I didn’t even know that report existed before I came to your apartment!”
“Why did you steal it then?”
“I don’t know maybe because I realized I slept with someone that wrote a 5 pages essay meant to ruin my career—” she scoffed.
“My god I swear, I’ve met 7 year olds more mature than you are!”
“—meanwhile she forgets to mention she’s gonna be my new coach—" he raised his voice, both of them practically yelling at each other.
“you’re the one that barged into my apartment—.”
“I didn’t know what I was getting myself into though! Did I?”
“Oh boohoo, Kylian Mbappe has been manipulated by his new coach, is that the story you’re going with?”
“I wouldn’t know. You’re the expert in writing stories and telling lies. Does it sound catchy enough to you?”
“It sounds bullshit.” She prompted and stepped forward. “Just like anything else that has come out of your mouth ever since I met you.”
“Would love to find out what it would sound like to Galtier.”
She went pale. It was perhaps the idea that he set in her mind that he was capable of going that far if he wanted to. In reality he wouldn’t be harmed by the truth coming out. Not as much as she’d be. She’d be humiliated as a professional and as a woman.
He leaned in, the proximity getting as dangerous as it was last night. She didn’t flatter. “do you understand the consequences—”
“YOU THINK I DON’T?” She yelled in his face. “the consequences are much bigger for me then they are for you. I’m already fucking dealing with them because of you. So where the fuck is it Kylian?”
He pouted, his eyes dropping to her lips, a part of him needing to taste her again despite the circumstances. Like she was cocaine and he was a long and loyal user. He raised his shoulders slightly, letting them fall again. “Can’t remember.” He whispered.
She looked at his lips too, a grin appearing on hers. She leaned closer to him, her lips brushing his ear and she whispered “I’m gonna make you wish were dead.” she raised her whistle to her mouth quickly and blew it in his ear. He jumped and screamed, covering his ear while she walked away. Declaring war.
Kylian threw his shirt on the ground in anger, and hit the air with his fist. This woman could drive him in a madhouse. He wanted to hit something, he needed it to. He kicked on o one of the doors of the stalls before he could think about it. He groaned at the contact with his toes, regretting it immediately after. “MERDE!” he yelled and it echoed in the empty room.
PLAY
“IF I WANTED BALLARINAS I WOULD HAVE GONE TO THE OPERA” She screamed at them “FASTER”
Taylor was having too much fun with her whistle. She’d use it repeatedly, any way she could while commanding the boys. She’d walk around the field and go down on the gym. Yes even in the gym they couldn’t hide from her.
“are you taking a break Hakimi?” she asked, while he was lifting weights with his legs, sitting on one of the machines. He stopped, raising her eyebrows “my ex boyfriend could lift that in his sleep. More weights.”
Hakimi searched the room for Kylian, his inner child blaming only him for Taylor torturing him. He pointed at him “your fault.” He mouthed.
On the field she was walking passed them and correcting their posture or noting their little flaws. Marquinhos watched from a distance while the boys did their cross every time she walked by like she was the devil herself or closing their ears just before she’d blow that goddamn whistle.
“its like she turned into a monster.” Mumbled Ektike to Kimpembe while they were doing pushups that she had ordered them too.
“You think if we say her name three times in the mirror, we’ll set a curse?” asked Kimpembe
“I think I’ll be hearing that whistle in my nightmares until the day I die”
“Can both of you shut up before she gives us another 100?” Hissed Bernat and continued with his exercise.
Across from them were Ramos and Neymar playing a one on one, the ball rolling back and forth between them. “who would have thought Kylian was right about her…” mumbled Ramos. Neymar didn’t answer, he kept his eyes on the ball. He didn’t want to talk about it “she’s still a little badass if you think about it.”
“Sure” he mumbled, his eyes reflecting the sadness he was trying to hide.
Taylor stood outside of the field to have a clear watch, her arms crossed on her chest. Marquinhos came near her, holding his arms behind his back. She glanced at him, almost smiling.
“I think you are having too much fun.”
“Just for today. Needed to prove something.” She grinned “but yeah I’m having a little fun.”
He nodded “fair enough. You gonna let them go or are you going to keep them here forever?”
She checked her clock “yeah. Not number 7 though. He has another two hours.”
Marquinhos smiled..“I’ll let them know.”
Just as Marquinhos was going to call the guys, Neymar passed in front of her. She followed him with her eyes before reaching for his arm to stop him. He looked at her, his expression blank.
“Can we talk?”
“If I say no, you’re gonna give me another hour in training?”
“No of course not.”
“Then not today.” He said simply and moved away.
“Junior!” she called and he stopped, turning to look at her. He motioned his hands like he was asking her what she wanted. She hesitated “You don’t need to trust me as a friend anymore but I need you to trust me as a coach. Please.”
He nodded “you had all my trust as a coach, you never needed to lie. That’s the problem”
He left her and the other players left the field as well a few minutes later, all except one.
PLAY
Taylor sat on the bench at first while the night was falling around them and the stars appeared in the sky. She got up later, keeping her distance from him while Kylian’s figure ran in between cones and up and down the grass, a ball always in between his legs. Sometimes her eyes focused on his thighs and not his feet, whenever she’d notice, she’d clear her throat and look away like she was a school girl. It was one of those times when she suddenly felt the ball hitting her ankle. She looked up, an annoying looking Kylian raising his hands.
“Keep your head in the game, isn’t that what you always say?” he yelled from the other side.
“Didn’t know I was playing.” She explained and kicked it back at him. It was a clear shot, it landed right in front of him and he got it in his ankle shooting it up, before it even hit the ground, then maneuvered his body to do back heel kick and score in the net. He cheered at his win, even though no one was there to stop the goal. They were alone in the field, shadows in the dark. Kylian ran and took the ball back, he continued playing by himself, sometimes she’d notice that he’d stop and look at his toes like he was in pain but she wasn’t going to ask. She didn’t want to know. She looked at her clock again, just a few minutes left.
The ball rolled in between her feet again, this time he was closer to her. When had he gotten so close?
“How long can you keep the ball for?”
“I’m not doing this Kylian.”
“Hold it for longer than 10 minutes and I’ll give you your report back.” Her eyes sparked in the darkness. He moved closer, taking the ball under his foot and bringing it closer to him “Not up for it coach?” he asked, keeping it for himself.
Taylor looked around to make sure no one was watching and unzipped her jacket, throwing it on the ground. Kylian grinned and kicked the ball back at her. She moved away quickly; he chased her. It was a classic dribbling exercise, she’d move it from her left to her right leg and whenever he got close enough, she’d roll it backwards. Kylian moved around her carefully, she almost made it to 10 minutes but he slipped his leg in between her and made contact with the ball kicking it away. She lost her balance and fell forward on him, he held her arms, his hands gripping on hers just to keep her steady, her hands clasping on his biceps automatically. They both looked up at the same time, her nose brushing against his chin, their eyes meeting. They stared at one another, warming each other’s face with their breathing. He got even closer, she stood still, there was something incredibly romantic about an empty field.
“You lost” he whispered on her lips and pulled away. She laughed bitterly, placing her hands on her hips while he walked inside the building.
Kylian didn’t realize that she was following until he saw her opening the passenger’s door and sitting inside the car like she had been invited. He took a moment for himself before lowering his body, holding on his door and looking at her.
“what are you doing?”
She didn’t answer.
“I’m not driving you home.”
“you don’t have to. I’ll come get my report and then I’ll leave.”
He laughed “absolutely not”
“I wasn’t asking Kylian.”
“I’m gonna call security.”
She snorted “for what?”
“the crazy woman in my car.”
“I’ll explain to them that you’ve stolen my things and I need to get them back.”
“In what language? All you can say is bonjour with the worst accent I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“for your information I have a 2 week strike on Duolingo.”
“Get out” he warned.
“Non, je suis contente”
It did something to him. Listening to her speak the language even if the accent was worse than he expected. He chewed his tongue, watching while she put on her seatbelt, unbothered by his warnings and laid back, getting even more comfortable. He slapped on his door, cursing any curse he knew on his vocabulary. He laughed. “You know if you wanted to see my house, you could have just asked”
Her head shot up, looking at him “let me make one thing absolutely clear you low life son of a bitch- the only reason I’m in you filthy car is because I know that report is in your fucking house and I’m not leaving until you drive me there and give it to me.”
“you are a sore loser, you know that?”
“Must be your impact.” She said without even looking at him. He moved away, closed the door to his car and crossed his arms. She looked at the empty seat next to her and then at him.
“I can stay here all night.”
“Really?” she laughed. “ok” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. She looked at the ignition making sure it was keyless and thank God for her it was. She slid herself on the driver’s seat, pushing the button and watching the board coming to life. Kylian stepped forward to take a better look at what she was doing, doubting she was actually going to do this. Taylor scrolled down on the tablet screen for his house address “oh here it is.”
“alright that’s enough—” he went to open the door but she locked it before he could. Kylian slammed his hand on the roof of the car. “Open the door Wilock!”
“Always wanted to drive a car like this” the engine got louder as she played around with the options. “Do you have car insurance, just to be sure?” she looked at him, like she was a demon and he was her little toy. “changed your mind about staying here all night?”
“move!”
She smiled, unlocking the door and moving back on the passenger’s seat. Kylian say where she was a second ago. Holding on the steering wheel like he was making sure she hadn’t ruined it.
“Just for the record, I’m not driving you home after.” He smoothly unparked the car slowly, looking at the review mirrors.
“Don’t worry, I’d rather walk anyway.” She shot back and leaned her head on the windowsill.
“you know hijacking is a crime.”
“so is stealing.” She reminded him.
It was an awkward drive to say the least. The two chose silence over anything. Not even music. The only thing they could hear were the car and street sounds.
They reached his apartment a few minutes later, Taylor was taken aback by how grand his building looked from outside, tall and modern nothing like hers. they got inside the garage, Kylian turning off the engine and walking out. She watched him while he walked over to the elevator that was probably leading to his flat. He stopped on his tracks when he realized that she wasn’t following him. He walked back to the car, on her side.
Taylor pressed the button to lower the glass. “ill wait here for you.”
He raised his eyebrows “you want me to bring it to you?”
“yes”
He laughed “I’m not wasting my time, going up and down because you are a child. You wanted to come to get your report, so come and get it or you can stay here all night for all I care.”
He walked back to the elevator. She knew that he wasn’t coming back if she didn’t go with him. She tapped her leg on bottom of the car, contemplating her choices. She huffed and opened the door. Following Kylian to the elevator. Taking a quick look around the garage to see two more cars, a Prius and a Mercedes. Ones again, thinking about how this could have been her life.
They didn’t say anything while they went upstairs. She would marvel at how elegant everything looked. From the halls to the walls. To the carpets on the floor, to everything. He unlocked his door. Walking in first and letting her walk behind him. He threw his keys on the table near the door and went to his room immediately.
She looked around at the house. It was very white, she noticed. Very simple and minimalistic, like no one with personality was living there. uncharacteristic for a man like Kylian. Because if there was one thing that this man had was character and personality. Whether she liked that character and personality was a whole different conversation. In front of her were the white windows with the million dollar view, all of Paris at his feet, like he was a king.
She let her hand slide across the wide counter that practically separated the kitchen from the living room. Everything was so clean and tidy, nothing like her house which always looked like a bomb had gone off in the room. She heard him hissing something from inside and reminded herself, why she was here.
She saw a desk by the window, full of papers and walked quickly over there, started looking for her file.
“Where is it?” she asked loud enough for him to hear. He was in his bedroom, taking off his shoes. He looked at his wounded toe from earlier, there was dry blood around it. He wondered with how much pressure he kicked that corner.
He got up when he heard her shuffling through his papers, reminding himself what she could find under them. He looked in one of his bags, taking out the report and running inside.
“Stop going through my stuff, it’s not there.” He said coming up behind her. He had to grab her arm for her to stop, anxious about what she was gonna find. She had almost uncovered the napkin he had kept. Sometimes he wondered while he was still keeping it but now was not the time. He forced her to turn around before she saw it, holding the report in his hands. She looked at it, slightly shocked that he was actually giving it to her. She reached for it but he pulled it back quickly. “gonna give it to Galtier, now?”
“none of your business.”
“You really think I’m unfit for playing?”
“I’m not gonna discuss it with you. You lost that privilege last night.” She tried to reach it for it again, he held it higher. She sighed, her eyes darkening “give it to me!” she jumped.
“therapy? Really?”
She stepped forward to jump again, stepping on his toe. He groaned, stepping back and she looked at his bare feet. Noticing the wound. Her forehead frowned “what the hell happened to your foot?” she bent down to take a better look, then up at him. “You know what? I don’t care.” She snatched the file he was holding, moving away.
“can you be useful and get the alcohol and a bandage? It’s under the sink, in the bathroom.”
She halted. For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to do it but she left the file on a table and went towards the bathroom. He sat on the nearest chair he could find, reaching down apt his feet. Taylor returned with the things he asked her for, leaving them on the table. He got the bandage, bending forward and beginning to wrap his toe.
Because of the Silence he thought she was already gone but suddenly he saw her small fingers, taking the bandage from him, leaving by her side. She was squatting on the ground while she dropped alcohol on a napkin and started cleaning the dry blood.
“was it like that through the whole training?”
It was just a broken nail on his pinky, nothing that would effect his playing unless he didn’t take care of it and he would have earlier if he had realized it was bleeding. He caught her smiling by the slight pain she caused him. Then she started wrapping it slowly, much more carefully than him “you’re dumb for not saying anything.”
“our new coach is a bitch. Didn’t think she’d care. Had me doing an extra- OUCH!” He yelled when she died the bandage tighter only to shut him up but she didn’t look up at him. Her fingers continued, carefully doing what she was doing.
“She’s not a bitch. She’s just tired of being underestimated.” She responded in a whisper, finishing up. “that was stupid.” She added, looking up at him. He liked the view he had of her in between his legs. Enjoyed it even. He could see himself in her eyes “you could have damaged it real bad.”
“You’re gonna scold me now?”
“that’s basically my job Kylian.” She murmured, shaking her head. She got up, leaving the alcohol on the table. “all of it was my job.” Her voice was broken and tired but she continued “I never meant to hurt anybody but I’m not going to apologize for it either.” It was weird having her look down at him instead of the other way around. She had this sadness in her eyes he couldn’t quite explain “Especially not to you, after what you did to me!”
“I didn’t know about the report—” he stood up, automatically making the space between them smaller. Standing ones again taller than her.
“Don’t. I don’t wanna hear it.” She raised her hand almost touching his chest. The worst part was that she believed hum “I don’t care for another round of whatever this is right now. It’s late and I’m tired. We can go at it in the morning.” She stroked her hair back “I did mean it though. You pull something like this again I will make your life a living hell.”
He bent his head at her I don’t like you having so much power over me.”
“I don’t like you getting this close to my personal space anymore.” She moved back, away from his aura. Took her report and headed for the door. Kylian slid his hands in his pockets, tilting his head while he watched her getting nearer the door then—“wait!” he called and she looked at him. He breathed out loudly from his nose and walked to where she was. There was a board next to the door with all of his keys, he snatched the Prius ones “do you actually know how to drive?”
“why do you care?”
“Just ones. try to answer a question like a normal person.”
“yes I do!”
He got nearer and put the keys in her left hand, his skin brushing against hers, his fingers interlocking almost with hers. She didn’t pull from him right away, she took in his touch for a few more seconds while his eyes bore into hers. How did he always manage to get this close to her? How did she always found herself trapped between his and a wall or a door. “Bring it back in one piece if you can.”
She took the keys in between her fingers, juggling with them a little. She smiled, looking at them. “might just crash it on a pole on purpose.”
“That’s why I’m giving you the cheapest one.” He teased. She managed a smile but it was more of an acknowledgment. She looked at his face, reminding herself all the parts she was kissing just 24 hours ago. She wanted to touch it, the skin under his eye, his cheek, the area under his lips. God how did she get herself here? “you can always just stay here” he suggested, a grin drawn on his face like he was reading her thoughts.
“It’s never going to happen again Kylian.” She said coldly “it was a mistake, my mistake.” She whispered “Thanks for the car keys.” She reached for the doorknob and twisted it, opening the door and leaving.
She reached the garage pressing on the key to open the car. It felt weird sitting in on of his cars, she could smell him around her, expected his hand to reach for her any point now while she was driving. Sometimes it was hard to focus on the street. She turned the music on, french songs playing. She couldn’t understand a word but she let them play, she could imagine him singing them, dancing to them. She parked the car outside of her house and went upstairs. Tired to even climb the stairs. She turned the keys on her door, entering her apartment and just as quick she could feel the waves crashing on her chest. The consequences of her choices. The heaviness on her shoulder.
Trish was by her side in seconds when she started crying in silence, Kylian’s keys falling from her hand. Trish guided her on the edge of the bed and helped her sit down, while she sobbed in her hand. When did everything get so tangled up? She cried on her friend’s shoulder. Held on to her tightly. She wasn’t sure why she was crying. It was the pressure of not showing emotion all day, the realization that whatever was going on with Kylian would come back to bite her. Losing Neymar. Everyone else’s trust as well. One day and she’d be alone again, with her best friend and her family on another country.
Trish held her head on her hands, searching in her eyes. She didn’t say anything because she knew there was nothing to say.
“I fucked up.” She mumbled, sniffing back her tears. “I fucked up big time.”
Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She reached for it, checking the messages. Trish looked at the screen as well. “what is this?”
“Tickets for the Qatar tour.” She explained, wiping her nose with the back of her hand “because going on a tour across the world with 20 people that hate me and Kylian is exactly what I need.”
“I can go for you.” She smiled. Taylor tilted her head, giving her a serious look. Trish laughed, pulling her friend closer. “You’ll be fine. Promise.” She held her pinky out and Taylor curled her own pinky around it.
“swear” she whispered. Luna jumped up on the bed too, cuddling on her legs and meowing for food.
“She’s lying I just fed her.”
BAR – NIGHT
Verratti checked his phone, as it buzzed on the table. He checked his messages, reading about the tickets that had just been sent to everyone. He shook his head. “now we have to go on the trip with her.” He mumbled.
Across from him sat Ann, famous for her gossip talents and bringing havoc in the football world. She was twisting her straw on her cocktail. “she’s coming to Qatar with you?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you hear? She’s a full on coach. We’re stuck with her apparently.”
“it’s a nice story though. Woman undercover in a man’s world. It has a nice ring to it. I might write it. You think you can get her to do an interview for me?”
“I’ll give you tickets in one of the conferences after we come back”
“Oh that would be amazing, you’re an angel.”
He looked at her glass, scratching on it with his finger “I think what’s worse is that this undercover woman knew exactly what she was talking about.” He raised his glass taking a full ship “gonna have to start getting used to her I guess”
Ann smiled, a very mischievous smile while she sipped from her straw.
KYLIAN’S APARTMENT – NIGHT
When his phone buzzed he was laying on the bed, he checked his screen quickly. He hated travelling as much for such a short time. He threw his phone on the side and closed his eyes. Thinking about her. He tried stopping his mind from going there but he was failing, always picturing her smile or her frown or just her eyes. He reached for his phone again and went on her website. He stayed awake rereading everything that she had written about him. In truth despite the anger that he felt for all the lies, some sort of part of him had calmed with the truth. He knew exactly who she was, just like he wanted to from the beginning. He was only missing a few parts that he knew how to complete.
He went on his contact, search for the right name and let it ring. He smiled when the person on the other line picked up.
“Bellingham, it’s me bro. Are you still in Paris?”
Ok soooo let's count down the things we have to wait for. Taylor getting along with the boys again, tension between her and ky, Qatar trip omg i wonder what will happen there and wait a damn second that Ann girl looks annoying. How long can these two keep their heated night a secret? 👀👀👀 As Always that you for reading and commenting. This chapter is not much, more like comedic relief to show their dynamic from now on. Lost of yelling, lots of screaming. Gotta love it though. *Coughs* angst soon *coughs* i love you xxxx
Next chapter »
#kylian mbappe#mbappe imagines#mbappé#mbappe x reader#mbappe#mbappe x oc#football requestz#football imagine#football writing
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Can you make Simon get tickled by some feathers all over his body? :3
YEAHH!! :3
i hope u like it! :3 sorry it took so long for me to do this request, i was sick and had no motivation to draw for a while .. yippeee :3
#tenshi requestz#sfw tickle blog#sfw tickling#sfw tickle community#sfw tickle art#sfw tickles#sfw interaction only#sfw twords#sfw tk blog#sfw tk community#sfw tickling community#sprunki tickles
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Hey cosmic wyatt! Instead of one request, I'm doing a three in one! (For when you have no ideas to draw) 1: Draw what the attic and the basement looked like before they got destroyed. (The other two is just drawings of my oc so you can just ignore them) 2: a ref sheet of my TMNT OC Frida. 3: my friend group! ( @bubbleswand, @yourlocalgoofremy, and beagleboi. (His oc is just a dog made out of pudding like this🍮!) it's alright if you don't have the time, or busy with other requests!
OOOO you know what? I probably should draw the attic and basement when it wasn't burnt and exploded to a crisp ^_^
And I'll keep in mind about drawing ur oc plus a ref sheet ^_^
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The sisters say hi! I mean.. Lana does, LaLa just wants to eat you guys-
"Hm ? Did you say something ?"
"Huh !? Oh ... Nah ...."
"Oh . it must've been my imagination there . haha !! ........ Are you okay . though ? You look like you're sweating bullets ...."
"YEAH !! Yeah .... Of course I am ..... haahh ...."
#im sooo deeply sorry for answering thiz late ......#ive finally gotten more free time and thiz go around i PROMISE ill finish up the requestz / askz#soon ....#yeah .....#anyway . after getting a long scolding from tony . the two are back on their grind !!!!#my beautifulz !!!! ¥_^#dhmis#dhmis art#dhmis au#high voltage au#god itz so late nd im so tired n AAAHHHHHHSHDHDHDHEHDBDHDJKSJSHDHDBDBDBDBD#DEAR GOD . STRIKE ME DOWNNN#END MEE !!!!!!!#DO IT PLEAAAAAZEEEE#RAGSGSHDHDHDBBDRBDBDB#asks#answered asks#my ask box#my inbox#spooky's postbox#sorry for rhe not good art ......#i prommy ill get better again ......#lowkey cred că nu mai rezist mult#oh whatever#dhmis sketchbook#sketch the sketchpad#dhmis hv sketchbook#dhmis electracey#electracey the meter#dhmis hv electracey
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MORE OF THESE cuz u guyz really liked them last time :3c
#if u have any anthro lps requestz u can comment them or say them in my ask box tehe#littlest pet shop#lps#lps fanart#lps community#lpsblr#furry#???#i guess
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#BLINGEE#GLITTER#GLITTER GIF#GLITTER EDIT#GLITTER GRAPHICS#GLITTERCORE#SPARKLES#SPARKLE GIF#SPARKLECORE#OLD WEB#OLD WEBCORE#WEBCORE#Y2K#Y2KCORE#SCENECORE#SCENEMO#HOMESTUCK#SOLLUX CAPTOR#FLASHING#REQUESTZ
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Request Info !!
We do sfw agere and sfw petre requests ! Send in a theme and an option and we will try our best !!
Requests: Always Open !
Current Requests: 2 ! (slivercandle moodboard, black hat doodle)
Request Options:
Collage Moodboard (ex 1, ex 2, ex 3, ex 4)
Basic Moodboard (ex 1)
DNI Banner (ex 1)
Icon (no example yet !)
Doodle (ex 1)
Will NOT Do:
South Park
DSMP (or those affiliated with it!)
Danganronpa
Hazbin Hotel
Genshin Impact / Honkai: Star Rail
Steven Universe
The Last Of Us
Harry Potter
Anything Marvel (except for spiderman! we'll do spiderman stuff ^^)
Homestuck
Omori
OFMD
Anything involving tickling (just makes us uncomfortable, sorry ^^)
Anything centered around sweets (it makes us sick, sorry!)
Extra Information:
Manners are very appreciated! Please be nice :0]
Here is an example of a doodle request: "Hello! Can I please get an agere doodle of Hello Kitty being a caregiver for my oc? [please include the oc or a link to them!] I would like them to be coloring a picture together. Thank you!"
Here is an example of an Icon Request: "Hi, could I request a bunny petre icon of Vanny from FNAF? No paci, and please include themes of white and knives!"
Here is an example of a DNI Banner Request: "Can you make me an orange dni banner with a theme of corgis? Please make it say: 'SFW Interaction Only! Arf!' Thanks."
Here is an example of a Collage Moodboard Request: "Would you be able to make an agere collage moodboard for the color purple? Include diaps and some flowers please!"
Here is an example of a Basic Moodboard Request: "Basic moodboard for a lemon shark pet regressor please? Lots of yellows and blues. No paci or candy, please include a teether or chewelry!"
(Borders by heavenspuppy!)
#sfw agere#sfw petre#sfw age regression#sfw pet regression#sfw agedre#safe agere#safe petre#agere sfw#petre sfw#agere blog#petre blog#we love to make giftz 4 people!!! so pleaz send in requestz hehe#we made sure 2 type thiz post without quirkz so people can reed it eazier !!#babblin !
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Little guy number 6: toebean, a siblingz kitty plushie
#monke.makz#art#my art#art shit#traditional art#Plushie request#Cat#Kitty#cats of tumblr#I do plushie requestz remeber (begging adn pleading)#Ik im late in some pplz timezonez but not in minee#2024
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would it be possible to get a kandi charm of this lil goob
sure! what kind of charm? (payote stitch, brick stitch, or perler?) and full body or just the face and the holly?
#leviathan answerz#requestz#sandcreek#sandpaw#warrior cats#kandi#kandi making#kandi kid#kandi bracelet#kandicore#kandi cuff#kandi patterns#kandi charm#kandi mask#kandi beads#sparkledogzvom1t
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