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boobo13cambridge · 1 year ago

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A Mother's Remedy | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x f.Reader

Warnings: none just Papa Kylian fussing over his “perfect hattrick”

Summary: You fall asleep on Kylian after spending the whole day taking care of the triplets who had the flu.

A/N: Hello, everyone! I’ve been trying to get all my previous requests done. I hope you guys like this one, it was way too cute to write. My requests are open again if you guys want to send me more. As always, please leave me feedback and don’t forget to reblog. I would greatly appreciate it. Enjoy, lovelies ❣️

The room was filled with a soft glow, courtesy of the bedside lamp casting its warm light upon the scene. The day's exhaustion had finally caught up to you as you lay nestled in the comfort of Kylian's arms, your head resting against his broad chest. It had been a long and arduous day, one that tested your strength and patience as you cared for your three precious children who were struck down by the flu.

The abrupt shift in weather proved overwhelming for your spirited young boys, whose boundless energy knew no bounds. They loved playing football outside in your backyard, and wouldn't miss a match at the Santiago Bernabeu if they could help it. Watching their father play was their greatest joy, and you couldn't help but fall in love each time seeing your precious four-year-olds donning their father's jersey proudly, their voices joining in unison with the fervent chants reverberating throughout the stadium. Ali, being the eldest among the trio, would often lead his younger brothers, Zain and Ilyas, in a rendition of the French national anthem before playing their ‘friendlies’, as he liked to call them, in the yard. Kylian found it absolutely adorable, officially dubbing them his ‘favourite hat trick’.

Kylian's fingers gently caressed your hair, soothing away the remnants of stress that clung to your tired mind. His touch was a balm to your weary soul, bringing you a sense of peace and tranquillity. The rise and fall of his chest against your cheek served as a rhythmic lullaby, coaxing you slowly to sleep.

As your eyes fluttered closed, the image of your children flashed across your mind. Their little faces flushed with fever, their once lively eyes dimmed by illness. My poor babies, you thought as you snuggled closer to your husband. You had spent the entire day tending to their every need, feeding them medicine, wiping away tears, and comforting them through the long hours of discomfort.

A few hours earlier…

As the sun cast its golden rays across the room, you woke up with a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. Stretching lazily, you slowly tried to get out of your husband’s embrace, the latter’s arms tightening his hold not wanting to let you go.

"Bébé, stay just a few more minutes," he murmured softly, nestling deeper into the curve of your neck. Letting out a quiet giggle, you turned towards him, placing a tender kiss on his nose and gently caressing his cheek.

"Kyky, I have to go wake up the triplets and get them ready for school," you explained, a fond smile gracing your lips.

"Mmmhhh, d'accord. But give me a kiss first," he playfully whined, his lips puckering in an adorable pout. Shaking your head affectionately at his antics, you indulged his request, pressing a chaste kiss on his waiting lips, before deftly extricating yourself from his embrace and making your way towards the room where your precious cubs slept.

The triplets' room was conveniently situated just across the hall from your own, one of the many reasons you both decided on this house after Kylian signed with Real Madrid. As you opened the door to the bedroom and stepped in, the sound of faint whimpering halted your movements.

Alarm surged through your veins as you rushed towards the beds, the scene that greeted you shattered your heart into a million pieces. Lying in their beds, your little ones were flushed and perspiring, their small bodies consumed by fever. The sight of their usually bright and energetic faces now pale and tormented sent a wave of panic coursing through your veins.

Laying your hand on their sweaty foreheads, you felt how warm they were.

“Maman…” whimpered Ilyas the youngest of trio, slowly opening his eyes, “Je me sens pas bien.”

“Oh, mon pauvre petit chou. Maman’s here now,” you said, gently caressing his face.

As you continued to caress Ilyas's flushed face, offering him reassurance and comfort, the other two boys, Zain and Ali, began to stir from their sleep. Their delicate brows furrowed in response to the discomfort that plagued them, their faces contorted in the grip of illness. The sight was a poignant reminder of their vulnerability, igniting a fierce determination within you to ease their suffering.

With a heavy sigh, you braced yourself for the demanding day that lay ahead. Gathering your strength and summoning the resilience that only a mother possesses, you whispered soothing words to Ilyas, gently coaxing him to rest as you hear the distinct sound of Kylian’s footsteps approaching.

"Ils sont où mes petits footballeurs?" your husband boomed, entering the room with a wide smile that quickly faded upon witnessing the state of his babies. His expression transformed into one of deep concern, etching lines of worry across his handsome face. "Mon dieu, what happened?"

"They have a fever, Ky. They're burning up real bad," you replied, your voice laced with concern as you watched Kylian's eyes flicker with worry.

"Papa... Arrête de parler si fort, t’es pas un haut-parleur là," Zain weakly croaked, his voice barely audible, but still managing to convey his cheeky spirit, even in the midst of illness.

Kylian, ever the doting father, couldn't help but chuckle softly at Zain's response. "Roh là là, regarde le tit gamin," he remarked affectionately, a playful glimmer in his eyes. "Even while sick, he'll give his dad cheek, eh?"

Moving softly across the room, Kylian approached Zain's bed, his presence exuding a comforting warmth. His large hand gently rested upon Zain's fevered forehead, the contrast between his cool touch and the heat radiating from the young boy's skin sending a shiver of concern down his father's spine. Soft words of comfort and reassurance spilled from Kylian's lips, offering solace and a father's unwavering love.

After giving Ilyas a soft kiss on his cheek, you stood up, knowing you needed to make some food for your little ones and help them regain their strength. Your heart ached at the sight of Ali, still sleeping restlessly in his bed. You quickly made your way to his side, gently brushing his dark tousled hair away from his forehead, and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Ky, can you stay with them? Get them a wet towel for their foreheads. I'll make them some porridge and give them their medicine," you suggested, softly running your hand through your oldest’s hair.

"Sure, mon amour. You go ahead, I'll take care of them," Kylian reassured you, his voice filled with tenderness. With a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, you left the room, your mind racing with the urgency to prepare a comforting meal for your hungry little ones.

In the kitchen, you swiftly gathered the necessary ingredients, your hands moving with practised efficiency. As the porridge simmered, you took a moment to grab your phone and dial your mother's number.

With years of experience as a mother herself, she was a source of guidance and wisdom in times like these. You explained the situation and sought her advice on caring for your sick cubs, soaking in her comforting words and practical tips.

On the other end of the line, your mother's voice greeted you with warmth and concern. "Hello, my dear. What's going on? You sound worried."

"Hi, Mom," you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of relief and anxiety. "The triplets are down with a high fever, and I'm not sure what to do. They're feeling really miserable."

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry to hear that," your mother empathized. "First, make sure they stay hydrated. Offer them small sips of water frequently. And if they have any appetite, light, easily digestible foods like porridge would be good."

You nodded, taking mental notes. "Yes, I'm making them porridge now. It's almost ready."

"That's a good choice, my dear. Warm and comforting. It will help soothe their throats too," your mother advised. "And don't forget to give them their medicine. Keep a close eye on their temperature and monitor their symptoms. If things worsen or if you have any concerns, don't hesitate to call their paediatrician."

"I will, Mom. Thank you so much for your guidance," you expressed your gratitude, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over you.

"You're welcome, my love. Remember, you're a wonderful mother, and you'll get through this. Trust your instincts and remember the best remedy is a mother’s love," your mother encouraged.

As you hung up the phone, you turned off the stove and took a moment to collect yourself. The conversation with your mother had given you a boost of confidence, reminding you of the strength and resilience within you.

Carrying the tray of steaming porridge and Tylenol back to the bedroom, you found Kylian gently coaxing Ali to wake up from his restless slumber. Your heart ached as you saw the worry etched on Kylian's face, his focus solely on their oldest, who seemed to be more affected by the fever than the others.

"Ali, mon petit lion," Kylian murmured softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "Wake up, Maman is bringing some food. It will make you feel better, je te promets, mon coeur,"

Placing the tray on the table near Ali’s bed, you placed a hand on Ali's forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. His eyelashes fluttered, and his drowsy eyes slowly opened, revealing a mixture of confusion and discomfort. His weak voice quivered as he tried to speak.

"Mama... Papa," Ali croaked, his voice barely audible.

"We're here, mon amour," you reassured him, your voice gentle and soothing. "You're going to be okay. Just take your time and try to eat a little. It will help you get better."

With Kylian's support, you lifted Ali into a sitting position, propping pillows behind him to provide comfort. The fragrant aroma of the porridge filled the room, its warmth wrapping around Ali like a healing embrace. Kylian scooped a spoonful and blew on it gently to cool it down before offering it to Ali.

"Open wide, Ali," Kylian encouraged, his voice laced with both concern and determination. "Just a little bite. It will give you strength."

Ali hesitated for a moment, his tired eyes meeting yours and Kylian's. The love and support shining in your gazes seemed to embolden him. With a deep breath, he parted his lips, allowing Kylian to feed him a small spoonful of porridge. The taste brought a flicker of renewed energy to his weary body, and he managed a faint smile.

"Good job, Ali," you praised him, your voice gentle. "You're doing great."

As Kylian took care of your eldest, you attended to your other two brave little boys, who patiently waited as you served them each a bowl of warm food. Zain and Ilyas were capable of eating on their own, but as the ever-doting mother, you couldn't help but worry, despite their constant reassurances that they could manage. You moved back and forth between your sons, gently wiping the sweat off their foreheads and assisting them in drinking water. Once all three boys finished their meal, you and Kylian administered fever medicine and gently coaxed them back to sleep, hoping they would recover soon.

Seeing them in such a state made you feel helpless. Usually lively boys, they now lay there, struggling with high fevers. Observing your worry, Kylian tenderly wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and planting a kiss on your hair.

"Don't worry, my love. They'll be fine," he whispered softly as you sought solace by burying your head in his chest. "I can't help but worry, Ky. Especially Ali, I've never seen him like this before."

"Shh, he'll be alright," he soothed. "If you stress too much, you'll make yourself sick, and that's the last thing you want, right? The boys will be back to normal soon, my heart, okay?"

You nodded, releasing a faint sigh, as Kylian slowly closed the boys' room and led you to your shared bedroom. He was right; there was nothing more you could do but allow the fever to run its course and nurse your children back to health in the meantime. You felt grateful to have your caring husband by your side, knowing that despite being in the middle of a busy season, he always prioritized his family.

As you gently lay down, resting your head on Kylian's chest, you prayed for your family's well-being, filled with immense gratitude for your own mother, who had spent countless nights fussing over you to ensure your well-being. Your mother's words echoed in your mind, reminding you that a mother's love is the best remedy. With that thought, you allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, serenaded by the soothing rhythm of your lover's heartbeat.

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chaotic-taco-collector-blog · 2 years ago

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Here’s my live reaction-

Oh my god i fucking love confrontations this was so intense.

Such bitter words yet they STILL cannot stay away from each other.

Also love kyky being jelly of mase im a sucker for that.

And TRISH AND JUDE SCENE YES OMG FAVOURITE ORDER FROM THE ROMANCE MENU RIGHT NOW.

CHARLIE OMG WHAT

i feel so bad for tay.

Ky concerned about charlies health (moreso about taylors mental health)��

He came to the hospital 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 im mad at him for one sec and he reverses it all w one teeny act

Little intimate moments like these are like oxygen to me so adorbs

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK HE IS ACTUALLY DEAD WHAT ON EARTH WHAT THE FUCK IOANNA

The last convo…whose gonna get taytay back to her senses now💔

Poor lily this is breaking my heart

He came for her AGAIN🥹🥹🥹🥹

Im going to use the phrase “my heart is breaking” 192829292929 times get used to it

Taylors the best sister ever. Periodt.

There we go…those moments again😍

Such a mood enhancer this cutie patootie of a man is, cant be mad at him can we?

I KNEW HE HAD LUNA CAUSE SHE REMINDED ME OF TAYLOR I CALLED IT IN MY HEAD

they kissed i want to cry this was the happiest moment in this chapter what the heck

Taylor speaking french turns me on man i can only imagine what goes thru kylians head😶‍🌫️

Girl 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

How can they be steamy in an innocent way??? Does that make sense???

Some more 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

Little death callbackkkkk we loveeeeee

He needs to leave?🥺

TAYLORS FRIENDS AT PSG!!!! HER BOYSSS🥹🥹🥹🥹 my eyes are sweating rn

Ney and ramos🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 miss neymar and tays duo thats iconic honestly

GO BETH SHES THE UNDERDOG

I miss charlie

I SENSE A HAPPY HAPPY ENDING (even tho i hate that its ending)

I LOVE THIS SERIES SM

THANKYOU FOR THIS❤️

NEW ROMANTICS X MBAPPÉ [13]

» 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.

» chapter 13: back to the start

» Writer's note: this chapter was especially hard to write Because we are so close to the finish line and i don't want to end 😭😭😭 hope you got tissues with you!! See you at the end!

» 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 @lunasmindinwriting @shadysandwichghoul @contrastedfandom @alexxcorona113 @951am @jinsoulorbitzen12 @books-loverss @l0verl4ne @kypostsblog @bluberrycheezk @hottieluvr @calcaneous @444jodie @dudde-44 @neysgf @wallflowerjournal @p4rkyonce @toclic @kyliannnkkk @mad-die45 @mentalbaddie @karotland @et-in-arcadia-ego77

“You and Mason figuring things out again, ha?” he questioned, ones they reached the outdoor venue and hid behind a wall, so no one would see them. Taylor snorted at the comment, she could hear jealousy all over his tone, she could even feel him staring at her. She turned around to face him.

“Back to being an asshole again, ha?”

“You sure he won’t be looking for you right now?”

“What are you doing here?” she asked but the question sounded more stupid out loud then it did on her mind. Of course, he was here, he was supposed to be here with the French team. It would be weird if he wasn’t. She looked at his leg “I mean why are you not locked up in a hospital or something with that horrible leg.”

“Same reason you are not locked up in your bedroom after writing that horrible article.”

She laughed, an evil laugh. She bit her tongue annoyed, crossing her arms and looking away because that was a low blow and it seemed like they were back to their old ways. The times when they bit on each other like cats and dogs and scarred one another deep.

“I’m not doing this.” She said and walked past him. He grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn to him again, pulling her close to him. He had missed her skin, her perfume, her aura. He wished she’d go on calling him a piece of shit if that meant she’d stay for another minute with him and ignore Mason Mount. He moved his hand up her arm, making sure the contact gave away his dirty thoughts. Because he wanted her to know, he still thought about her under him or over him.

She looked at his hand, memories swarming in her mind like flies of all the times he’d done that in Paris. Kylian made a step forward, leaking his lips and looking up and down at her. She looked different. The fire in her eyes was gone, like she had no will to fight him at all.

“How did you do it?” she asked suddenly. His eyes lifted up to hers, he wasn’t sure what she meant. She pulled her arm away, replacing his touch with her own by putting her hand over where his used to be. “I can imagine but I want to know for sure. Why didn’t she release the article about us? It was ready! It would have been front page. The biggest headline. So why, did it never break out?”

“Why does it matter--”

“Because it does!” she snapped. “So, tell me, or this conversation is over.” He hesitated. Hid his hands in his pockets. She examined him, her suspicious getting confirmed while she looked at him. “How much did you give her and what else did you promise her because it couldn’t have been just money!” he didn’t respond. She went closer, slapped his arm “how fucking much, Kylian?” she asked louder, tried to hit him again but he snatched her hands—

“Arrêtés!” he yelled, his eyes staring right in hers and she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer instead, their chest bumping onto each other. She looked at his lips, it was an instinct. She craved him as much as she hated him. He angled himself so he’d have access to her lips if he wanted to, if he needed to. “I told you before you left that I’d stop it and that’s what I did. The how is not important.”

“My savior” she mumbled but there was so much irony in her voice, it made him distance himself, take a good look at her. He narrowed his eyes.

“That’s what you have to say?”

“I have a bomb over my head for the rest of my life, what do you want me to say? I Left because I was ready for it to explode and now, I have to look over my shoulder, listening to all these endless rumors—”

“You left because you wanted to ran away—”

“Yes, and you made sure I have to keep running by ‘protecting’ me—”

“Protecting you?” now he would be the one to get defensive, regretful of thinking even for a moment that he could show his true emotions for his ex coach “Don’t give yourself so much credit, I did it for me, as I do everything, hasn’t that been your complaint ever since you met me?” She didn’t answer. “I mean imagine, talented player, can’t hold himself together around an assistant. Pitiful, I’d say!” Something broke inside of her, something she didn’t know she had. He bit his tongue, tasting the poison before speaking he next words “At the end of the day it’s not my fault if you go on fucking footballers and the story comes back around—”

It was a hard slap. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t expect it or deserved it. When he looked up again, he could see her eyes, swollen, red and tears under them. He had been the cause of that, same way she had been the cause of his aching cheek and it seemed that all the two were capable of was hurting each other, even when they wanted to help.

Trish could hear her ringtone, she knew her phone was somewhere in the bathroom stall, definitely not in her dress pocket anymore. No, that space was filled by Jude’s hands instead while he was leaving his taste on her lips, kissing every corner of her mouth. She was tied on him, pinned against the glass walls that separated the stalls and breathing him in. How did they find themselves in these situations, she didn’t know but she liked it. She opened her eyes to search for the device but a moan left her lips immediately after as she felt Jude sucking on her neck, making her forget what she was looking for in the first place. The phone went silent for a moment, the ringtone echoed again and she tried to untangle herself from the tall beautiful man but he held her tighter, his lips finding hers again.

“let it ring.” He whispered in her mouth.

“You’re being needy.”

“Bite me,” he responded quickly.

Trish laughed “Metaphorically or Literally?”

Jude pulled away only so she could see the sneaky grin on his face “both.”

Trish couldn’t hide her smile as dived in his neck, left bites on his veins. Despite their need to stay locked with each other, the phone didn’t seem like it was going to give up. Trish groaned on his neck and jumped off, she ducked and found the phone under the toilet. As she got up, Jude put his arms around her, to keep her close while she answered the call but she pulled away just seconds later, and turned around to face him, a terrified expression in her eyes.

“Oh my god—” she whispered before hiding her mouth in shock.

“I’m sorry..” it was an honest apology. It came a few minutes later after he had spoken his brutal and offensive words. She had turned her back on him, he was looking at the floor, his hand over his aching cheekbone. She sniffed in her tears, wiping them with the back of her hand. Perhaps this is how it would always be between the two, hurting and healing each other simultaneously. She nodded, knowing that she must have said worst to him at some point, so did she really have any right to be mad at him? Well… even if she did, she had no strength to. His warmth came like a veil around her, as he walked closer and embraced her from behind, his head lost in her hair. He whispered the words that she’d never admit out loud: “Tu m'as manqué.” He kissed her neck, the way he used to in her small apartment, in the city of love, the moments of sin and weakness that they shared. She let him, he kept going, she ached to turn and face him, kiss him, taste him. His fingers crawled slightly under her shirt, the skin to skin contact making both of them dizzy and she was so close to letting go of her defenses, sinking into him, an ocean that if she could breath underwater, she’d stay in forever.

She turned, their lips inches from each other, it’s that moment before jumping in the water, you know it’s gonna be cold and endless, it scares you.

“TAY!”

She moved away, behind her stood a breathless Trish and a worried looking Jude. Something was wrong, she just didn’t know what. Trish hesitated, like the words were stuck on her lips but she couldn’t find the strength to speak them. Taylor noticed the way that Jude had his hand placed on her shoulder. She moved closer to them, losing Kylian’s warmth completely. “What happened?” Trish never said it. Her eyes were loud enough. “Is he ok?”

“In the hospital.” Said Jude.

“Beth tried to call you—” taylor looked in her bag for her phone, she tried to open it but the battery had died, typical.

“Fuck!” She threw her phone back in her bag and walked away, heading to the parking lot for her car. Her heartbeat echoed in her mind. Jude stepped in front of her, his tall figure blocking her view .

“You’re not driving.” He said strictly “I’ll take you and Trish to the hospital.”

Kylian watched the scene unfold, feeling helpless yet again. He followed them to Jude’s car, only stopping when they got in. He stood by the window. “let me know how he is.”

“I will.” She said, part of her wanting him to come with her, to hold her if the worst case scenario were to come true. He gave her hand a light squeeze and he stepped back to let the car leave.

Lily Wilock, was a vibrant girl. She had long black hair, curly, like her mother’s Beth. She didn’t know a lot about the world yet. She hadn’t known any heartache in her life either, but there was something about this night. Everyone had a worried expression, the bright hospital lights were hurting her eyes and she wanted to sleep but even her mother’s hug felt weird like she wasn’t completely with her. She knew her dad, Charlie, was somewhere in one of those white rooms, sleeping because he needed more help than usual and these rooms were more relaxing than usual rooms, or at least that’s what she was told. It was the sound of quick footsteps that had her turning her head as she sat on the black couch in the hall. That’s when she saw her sister, running, Trish was with her, she was always funny. And a man that she had met a couple of times—she liked him because last time she saw him, he ha picked her up on hos shoulders and she felt like she could see the whole world from up there.

“How is he?” Asked Taylor and lily looked up at her, biting her finger while watching at the grown ups. The tall man walked up to her, kneeling in front of her so they were the same height and smiled, waving, taking her attention off the conversation that Taylor was having with her mother.

“Look at you, all grown up. You’re almost taller than me!”

Lily laughed, blushing and hiding her face “Am not!” she said.

“Yes you are look!” he moved his hand between them, making it look like hers was higher than his and the two of them laughed. It was a loud laugh that came out of lily, one that you don’t hear in hospital hallways. Taylor looked at them, remembering that she had to put a mask on for her sister. She went and knelt next to Jude, forcing a smile on her face.

“He says I’m tall!” complained Lily.

“Does he?” asked Taylor, the color of her voice coming out sadder than she meant it to.

“Look how tall you can be—” Jude picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder again and spinning her around. Trish sat next to Taylor, patting her shoulder. And she had to go against every emotion and need in her body, to not start crying because she knew exactly what was going to follow.

Trish and Jude left a few hours later, if she was in her right mind, she would have questioned them leaving together. But she wasn’t. At some point she drifted off to sleep with lily in her arms. Her mind was awake, ready to hear the alarm, but her body had given in and there was something about listening to a little kid breathing in her sleep. She opened her eyes when she felt a slight tickling on her cheek, she thought it’d be Beth and almost jumped of the couch but it was someone else. Dressed in his hoody, black sunglasses to hide his eyes and a mask to cover his features. No one else could recognize him, but she knew his touch all too well.

“Ky?” she whispered.

“hey.”

“You came.”

“You called.”

Taylor smiled, she looked at Lily who had found a hiding place in her arms and at Beth who was sitting in the end of the couch, head laid on her hand. Kylian smiled at Lily. “She’s cuter in person.” Taylor hummed in response, rubbing her eyes. “You wanna go get some coffee?” he asked and she nodded, carefully moving away from lily and getting up, she told Beth she’d be back in just a few minutes with coffee for the both of them.

Taylor was still wearing her mini dress, but Jude had left his jacket for her. Kylian would have offered his hoodie if he wasn’t scared of being recognized. They walked in silence, their fingers almost brushing as they walked. Taylor ordered their coffees but Kylian handed his card to the barista before she had time to pay. The barista took a good look at him but didn’t say anything. The two of them made their way back to where they were before, Kylian took the opportunity and interlocked his hand with hers, making her stop and pulled her in a private corner they could be alone for a minute. He moved his mask down and she took of his sunglasses because she needed to look at them. He leaned his forehead on hers, giving her any energy he had. She held his hand tighter and let her body drop on his chest, he rubbed her back, silence. That’s where the two of them thrived, that’s where they understood each other the most.

“Have you heard anything about Luna?” she asked suddenly.

He held back his smile “she’s thriving.”

“I miss her.” She paused “can you tell your friend to send some pictures?”

He stroked her hair behind her ear. “I’ll tell him.”

“thanks.” She answered and lowered her head. He noticed, sorrow returning.

“He’ll be ok—”

“Don’t say that.” She said quickly.

He hesitated “what do you want me to say?”

So many things, she thought. He brushed her hair, kissing the top of her head. “I don’t know.” He moved his hand to her cheek, lifting her head and kissing her temple, then her cheek, then the corner of her lips and she could taste the salt all over her skin.

The two started moving again, Kylian putting on his disguise like before, hiding his face and walking back to Beth but her entire body froze as she made the turn. Beth was up, standing in front of the doctor, head low, her whispers echoing in the empty hallways, lily laying on the couch, cuddled with her knees, still sleeping. Taylor’s knees couldn’t hold her up, her hands couldn’t hold the coffee cups, she dropped them, dropped herself on the floor too. Kylian tried to keep her up, pulling her hand but he didn’t insist. He let her crumble and he had never heard her making these sounds, these broken sounds, a low scream, combined with sobs and mumbling. She held on the fabric of his shirt, making a fist with her hand as she trembled, so fragile, he thought. So fucking fragile.

How do you move on from such a loss? When the hand that has been holding you through everything, turns cold. Only thing she can remember from that night is moving between different embraces, the sound of cries, hers and Beth’s. The doctor’s eyes. No one tells you about that, how the doctor’s eyes get imprinted in your brain, stay in you thought every time you try to think about the one you lost. No one tells you that even when you’re in the funeral, ready to say goodbye you think about them as if they are alive, expecting them to call as soon as the reception is over. You save a seat for them in church because you were used to saving it for them your entire life. And your last conversation remains on repeat in your head, analyzing every last word, lingering on everything they said.

“Why do you stay? You’re not even happy there.” He told her, the night before the party, the night before he left.

“I’m content.” She lied, now she whished she hadn’t. Her father coughed, it was a rough cough, she should have known.

“You’re settling.”

She looked at him, thinking about his face now, she could see all the signs, the circles under his eyes, his torn lips, his weak color. She could have saved him perhaps, if she wasn’t lost in her thoughts. “Maybe I am. But at least I’m home. It’d be the same in Paris.”

“Paris scares you for all it’s possibilities.”

“Paris scares me for all it’s dangers.” She admitted, looking down at the blanket that she had hidden under, pulling one of the loose threads, scratching her nail against it. “Should have let go of football when god told me to.”

“Since when do you believe in God?” he asked, almost laughing. “had to drag you in church when you were a kid, you weren’t a fan of it when you were a teenager either—“

“People change.” She said, but she was smiling because she knew how stupid she must have sounded.

“Yeah they do. When they are looking for an excuse.” She looked up at him, her smile fading away. “you’re forcing yourself out, telling everyone it’s your decision while convincing yourself it’s your only decision.” He always had the most brutal truths under his tongue, she pulled harder on the thread “No one tells you to turn back to PSG, but you could have a career in this and you are not chasing it—” he coughed, his voice getting raspier “I’ll always blame myself for you missing your first chance—”

“Pa—”

“Now it’s your choice.” He moved closer to her, placed his hand on her heart “it could beat forever and it would never be enough unless it’s in the rhythm you want it to. Don’t let it die in silence.”

Silence. There was so much silence as she stared at his coffin, little lily holding her arm and leaning on it, a reminder of what she was left with to protect. He was gone now, and the only thing Lily had left of him was Taylor, that gave her a sense of responsibility. For the afternoon, lily and Beth went to stay with Beth’s mother, she told them that she could pass by there at night but she wanted to home first, change. In reality all she wanted to was to be alone, think about everything and sink in her sorrow, in hopes that she’d find the bottom at some point. She parked the car right outside of her house, paying little attention to her surroundings. She got out, playing with the keys in her hands when she noticed a familiar set of shoes, and she looked up, she held her keys tighter. She was happy to see him.

“Jude gave me your address.” She nodded. “I would have come to the funeral too but I didn’t—” she raised her hand to stop him.

“It’s best that you didn’t. last thing I needed was paparazzi trying to get a picture of you. There were already whispers about Bellingham being there, I can’ imagine what would happen if you showed up.” She said while walking closer to him. She noticed he was holding a paper bag in his hands and his eyes were soft, she tried to remember if she had seen them as soft in the past. She let out a breath, like she had reached sore after a long way out in the water. She let her body fall on his chest as he shielded her with his arms. “my eyes are dry.” She mumbled “didn’t think that was possible.” He rubbed her back and lowered her head to her ear.

“wanna go inside?”

“yeah.” She whispered and the moved away to get to the door. She unlocked it, stepping in the house, expecting to hear her father’s footsteps running down the stairs, lily screaming her name, Beth cooking in the kitchen. It was empty. No sounds, no movements, just ghost. She told Kylian to leave his coat on the hanger behind the door and walked in the kitchen, ignoring the chilling silence in the house.

“Coffee or tea?” she asked, keeping her mind occupied, as she left her bag on the kitchen counter and opened the cupboards. Kylian came in a moment later, examining the art on the walls, the decorations, toys all over the floor, lily’s he imagined. There was so much color, so much coziness that he felt like he was trespassing to a home he was never invited to.

“tea.” He said, still looking around the kitchen. He could almost imagine the whole family in this room, laughing, teasing each other, a little sad that he never got to experience it with them. His thoughts halted when he heard Taylor hissing and cursing, he looked at her. She was holding her thumb rubbing it and he imagined she had burned herself. He moved closer, coming up behind her while she rumbled about how much she hated this kettle and she always told her father he must buy a new one. Her words fell sort as soon as he embraced her, pulling her to his chest to comfort her and he could almost hear the tears coming. She grasped his arm, her nails almost digging on his skin and he lowered his head to her neck, his grip getting tighter as more sobs escaped her mouth. Weak sobs at first that turned to heartbreaking noises, similar to the ones she made at the hospital. She used her other hand to rub her face, turning around and finding solace in his hug. He picked her up slowly, walked with her to the couch.

“The tea” she whispered.

“I’ll get them.” He said as he sat her down on the pillows and used the spare blanket on the edge of the bed to cover her. He went back in the kitchen for a few minutes, returning with the cups and leave them on the coffee table before finding his seat next, she moved a little forward so he’d sit behind her. He threw his arm around her, bringing her closer to him and she got comfortable on his scent, feeling slightly lucky that he happened to be here, that she was able to feel his skin on hers. She closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh, sniffing in her sadness. He kissed the top of her head and let her cry, without saying anything. He reached for one of the cups and held it in front of her, helped her take a long sip. He was wondering if she had eaten anything in the last 24 hours, he doubted it. He let the cup back on table and brought her even closer, tucking the blanket so she her body wasn’t exposed to any coldness.

“just when I think I’m out of tears—” she wiped away some with her palm, her voice coming out rough. He drew circles on her arm under the blanket and lowered his head, so he could kiss her ear. “It feels like it’s never going to end.” She said, a sob breaking her sentence, her moved her closer to him.

“It will.” He whispered. “it’ll get better.” She gazed at the wall, her mind felt empty.

“It’s not about me I’m more worried about, you know.” She admitted. She moved a little, only so she’d be able to look at him. “it’s lily.” Kylian didn’t know what to say to that, there were no right words. “I met him, I lived him.” She smiled “he was my everything for a long time, what sucks is that she…” she paused, trying to breathe through the pain “she won’t know him.” More tears came rolling down, she shrugged her shoulders “she won’t know what it’s like to have him screaming your name on the bleachers, when he—” she sniffed “tries to be angry but fails—” she laughed at the memories. He watched her carefully, stroking her hair while she spoke “and you know Beth will do a great job but she should have… she should have gotten the chance to live a life with him the way I did.” He wiped the tears for her this time, she leaned on his touch, hyperventilating. “what if she forgets him?”

“that won’t happen. At the end of the day, she’s got you for the rest of her life to remind her of him. Right?” It was so confusing that he’d ever let this woman as close, it was an unfamiliar feeling that he couldn’t translate. How much he cared about holding her together, how he wanted to cuddle her until the storm passed, there was a warmth on his chest, a realization that was settling right over his heart about how he felt about that woman. “have you eaten anything?” he questioned and she shook her head. He went to get up but she pulled his sweater.

“please.” She mumbled and he stayed where he was, didn’t move at all, if that’s what she needed, that’s what he would give her. She turned her head so her nose would be pressed against his chest. And they stayed like that for a while, tangled with each other. He felt her calming, her breathing stabilizing, she’d hold his fingers, play mindlessly with them. An electricity washed over him when she brought his hand closer to her lips and kissed it, he closed his eyes, blocking out any dirty thoughts because it wasn’t the time. “where’d you get that?” she asked suddenly and he looked at his hand, she was rubbing her thumb over a long scar he had on the back of his hand. Kylian smiled but shook his head.

“Can’t remember.”

“Did you get a cat at campus?” she interrogated her finger now brushing over a scar on his arm, that he had forgotten was there. She tilted her head back, forcing herself to smile at him “or was it a lady?”

Kylian laughed, bending his head on hers “nah haven’t met one with nails as sharp as yours yet.” Taylor snorted, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the closeness. Maybe he could help her forget for one night.

“then it must be a cat.” She hummed “I only know one that hates you as much.” Kylian bit his lip, he didn’t want to tell her, as if he would be admitting to a crime. “you said you gave her away.”

He didn’t respond. He stared at her closed eyes, waiting for her to open them so he could look in her soul. He stroked her chin with his thumb. “I said I’d try.”

She smiled, leaning closer to him, their noses brushing against each other. “Is it that hard to find a cat a home these days?”

He dug his hands under her hair. “had to be sure they deserved her.”

She finally opened her eyes, the two of them looking one another like they were about to kiss for the first time. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“I felt like I was stealing her.”

She shook her head, looked down at the threads of his sweatshirt and started playing with one of them “you could never steal anything from me. Seems I keep on giving everything to you.” He lifted her chin with his index finger, so he could lock eyes with her again. She smiled “how is she?”

“I told you, she’s thriving.”

“Buying her the most expensive cat food, are you?”

“Taking her out for walks and all that shit.”

“Do your new girls like her?”

“They never stay around too long for them to find her.”

She scoffed, he noticed the spark in her eyes returning “does she hide under the bed?”

“You remember the high cupboards in the kitchen?”

She hummed

“She stays there all day.”

Taylor placed her hand on his chest “does she sleep here like she used to when you’d come in the apartment?”

He held her hand “some nights.”

“You didn’t have to keep her.”

“elle me fait penser à toi.” [she reminds me of you.] He confessed in a warm breath that hit her face, his gaze remaining focused on her eyes. For all his fear of making eye contact, he didn’t look away even for a second, neither did she. A smile creeped on her face, he wondered if he understood what he said, the familiar heat he used to feel around her returning. Sher leaned in, connecting her lips with his, a sort, emotional kiss, a taste, a slight brush. Then they pulled away, not too much, just enough so he’d look in her eyes.

“Tu m’as manqué aussi” she said in a low tone, balancing her head on his. He couldn’t hide his smile when he heard her speak his language, he wished his could, he wished his hands were tied behind his back as well, so he wouldn’t give in to his thoughts. He didn’t have time to do any of these things because she kissed him again, this time with more force, like she was trying to steal something from him.

“Taylor…” he mumbled in between her lips. She didn’t stop. She climbed on him, getting as close as she could and he had no strength or will to push her away, he wanted this as much as she did. But something in him screamed that it was wrong, that she was too broken and he was taking advantage of it. His hands slid down to her hips, trying to put some force, so she’d stop. She moved back only an inch. He held her face. “you’re too vulnerable”

“I know exactly what I’m getting myself into…” He closed his eyes, remembering of all the times they said this to each other. Of all the times they used it as an excuse. “promise” she added, leaving a peck on his lips “I need you ky.”

He leaned in, sucking on her lips, giving her what she asked for. “are you sure?”

She nodded quickly, leaving a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Her fingers crawled under his shirt, making their way round his biceps, remembering his shape, remembering him. He kissed her, the spot right under her chin, remembering the feeling of her skin on his lips and she locked herself on him for a moment before getting off him, slowly, dragging his hand with her, signaling him to get up.

He did. Their fingers interlocking. He pulled them up to his lips, leaving a trail of kisses as she walked with him to the stairs that led to the bedrooms. He followed, silent, calm and intrigued, she could lead him anywhere and he wouldn’t complain. The reached one of the closed doors. She stopped in front of it, turning to him, he trapped her between him and the door, kissing her again, realizing how much he actually missed her. She pushed down the handle of the door, un-trapping herself and stepping backwards at her room. Her space. There was something different about being in her family house, like he had only seen a version of her in the apartment she was renting in Paris, like she had only let him in halfway through until now. She kept walking until she reached her double bed, a curtain hanging from either side. They stood in front of it, as if they had never touched each other again, like it was the first time.

In a way it was. A chance to go back to the start, when their bodies burned under the same sheets. He made a step closer and she reached for his jumper. He stopped her, his hands covering hers. “no rush” he whispered and moved her hands away. He didn’t care about his own satisfaction, even though he knew he’d get it, he wanted to be sure that he’d get her as high as possible, tonight wasn’t for the both of them, it was for her. His fingertips, caressed her cheekbone, her eyes closed, she was enjoying it. He took his time, moving his finger around her face, until he reached her lips, where his thumb dragged her bottom li. It was dry, it was colorless, he wanted to change that. So he kissed her, she tried to fasten it, but he didn’t let her. He searched for the buttons of her black cotton dress, started unbuttoning it from the bottom-up while his lips gave life to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him deeper, forcing the kiss to last longer. She pulled his jumper again, pulling it off him, over his shoulders and exposing his muscular arms. She let the clothing item drop on the floor and stepped on it as she got closer to him, he returned to her neck, his favorite place in her body, pleasing her any way he knew how. “jump” he whispered in her neck as he instantly picked her up on his arms and sat with her on the bed, kissing the exposed skin in between her dress. His lips in between her breast working like a drug in her mind. She’d let herself in his mercy for the night. He took of his shirt, uncovering himself and she got drunk simply by the sight. She leaned on him, clinging onto him while slid the dress off her shoulders and let it fall off. Still taking his time, choosing his kisses carefully, making sure every inch of her body was touched and shivering. He picked her up and maneuvered his body, so she’d be laying down and he’d be on top. He pushed her up on the bed, so her neck would be comfortable on the pillows and toyed with the thread of her bra, debating whether he should take it off yet or not.

He chose not to, instead left kisses all over body, from her collarbone to her breast, to her stomach, he knew the way like the back of his hand, like it was home. He heard her whimpering, eyeing her before continuing his trip by kissing her thighs, both of them. There was something different about the way he was holding her this time around. Like the time apart changed their little dance. And she couldn’t pin point the difference yet but she liked it. He came back up, pulling down his pants with his one hand, she helped.

And they continued touching and kissing, getting to know each other’s bodies again, until the could both feel it was time to get lost in each other. He could feel him in between her thighs, hesitant, looking in her eyes, asking for permission that she gave freely with a nod. He lowered his head to her neck and before entering her he whispered to her ear “Ma petite mort.” And then he slid on her, pushing a moan out of her lips that filled the room, echoed in the walls of her childhood bedroom that has changed over the years to mirror who she was as she’d grow up. It took her a while in the haze for her to translate his words—

“is that what love is to you?”

“I think it’s fair to say it weakens your consciousness. Has you dying and awakening repeatedly.”

“How did you say it?” she bit on her bottom lip.

“la petite mort”

Except he didn’t say La. He said Ma. Such small difference. Such heavy confession.

Her eyes opened as realization hit, while he was still inside her and hidden in her neck and her body felt so light in that moment, so fragile. And she wished she could confess the same to him, find a way to tell him she felt the same way. He lifted his head from her body, looked in her eyes, she pulled his head down so she could kiss him, let him taste the words she couldn’t tell out loud.

Next morning the sun creeped in through the curtains that they had let open during the night. He woke up with her body still laying on his, still asleep and as fragile as he remembered it. He checked the time and knew he had to leave soon, catch the flight back home—odd, if he was meant to go home, why did this feel like home as well? He gazed at her rosy cheekbones, how her face was squeezed on the pillow, her chest going and down as she’d let out a fragile breath, he gazed at her like she was a painting, meant for his eyes only. He kissed her nose and moved away, searching his clothes around the room, he put on his pants and his shirt. Picked up his jumper and left it on the bed for her. He leaned over to her, leaving another kiss on the eyebrow and she moved slightly, awakening from the hypnosis he had put her under.

“I have to go.” She reached for his arm, holding it gently. He kissed her, one last kiss. “we’ll talk.” He spoke in her lips. She nodded and let him distance himself. When opened the bedroom door, she sat up and put on the jumper he had left for her. She wanted to go behind him, tell him a proper goodbye, but she was terrified that if she did, she wouldn’t let him go at all. She slowly walked out of the bedroom, listening to him picking his stuff when suddenly she heard voices—“shit” she mumbled and ran downstairs.

Kylian was standing by the front step, laughing at something, talking to someone. She had to get to next to him to see her little sister talking. “lily, where’s Ma?”

“In the kitchen.” She said with her tiny voice. Kylian looked at taylor, a little embarrassed at the situation. Taylor didn’t really know what to say either. “What’s Mbappe doing here?” she asked. Taylor opened her mouth slightly, searching for the right words.

“I wanted to make sure your sister was ok.” He said quickly, then he kneeled to her height. “I’m a close friend” he explained.

“Lily!” Beth came in the living room, holding glass of orange juice. Taylor looked immediately at her, regretful of the circumstances “Oh—” she mouthed but held herself from saying anything else. “Sorry, I didn’t realize—” while the grown ups were occupied feeling awkward about everything, lily ha gone closer to Kylian, put her hand in his ear and whispered

“can we be friends too?”

Kylian smiled, the awkwardness melting away as he looked to the little girl’s eyes. He nodded “you can come to Paris with your sister one day.”

“I’m not as good in football. Mark talks about you all the time, he even has a notebook with your face on it.”

“Is mark your friend?”

She shook her head, hiding begin the doll she was holding. Taylor stepped closer. “we’ve got a little crush on mark you see.”

“Oh—” he laughed “do we? Well, what can I possibly help with that? You think he’d like it if you have him autograph of mine?”

She nodded, smiling. Taylor went and found a piece of paper quickly and a pen, giving both to Kylian. He signed even wrote a message for mark and gave it to lily. They took a picture together and he excused himself, said he had to go to the airport. Taylor showed him to the door, the two of them standing out of his car.

“Thanks for that.” She smiled.

“Uh don’t think about it. I know what it’s like crushing over a Wilock girl.”

“Technically she is the one crushing over him.” She corrected. Kylian pulled her closer y the long sleeves of his jumper.

“I’ve left a bag for you. In the kitchen. It’s some gifts by the boys.”

“They still think about me?”

“Some more than others.” He smirked.

“Did you tell them about…?”

“No. I thought best to tell them in person and I wasn’t sure if you wanted too either.”

“Thanks. Yeah, you can tell them when you get there. Tell them I’ll be ok.”

“I will, because I know you will.”

She stroked his cheekbone, grinned. “last night was nice.”

“Yeah” he licked his lips and chewed on his bottom one.

She kissed his cheek, her lips lingering on his cheek “fly safe.”

He kissed her back and got in his car, driving away.

For the rest of the day she had to answer calls and messages, condolences and everything that she had been ignoring. After the 10th call, she felt like she was she was a robot, reciting the same thing over and over again. People she hadn’t spoken to in years were calling, telling her how much they loved her father, some of it felt so fake to her, she wanted to yell at them.

She plummeted herself on one of the chairs in the kitchen table, shutting off her phone and throwing it on the table. “I don’t want to talk to any more of them.”

“Then don’t” said Beth, while she was mixing the soup. Taylor looked at her.

“What are you making?”

“Chicken soup.” She glanced at her “do you mind fixing the table? Dr. Rhodes we should try keeping a routine for Lily’s sake.”

“Yeah…” she nodded and got up. Then she noticed the bag on the middle of the table and sat back down “god I forgot about this.”

“What is it?”

Taylor untangled the bow and opened the bag “Kylian gave it to me, I don’t know.” She put her hand, searching for the random items and took out a dozen pictures. “Bloody hell…” she looked at them, her heart melting at the memories. They were pictures of her and the boys. Pictures of when they won against AL NSSR, or when they had a water fight on campus. She sensed the heat of a tear under her eye. A picture of her and Neymar, looking like dorks. A picture of her in her blue Dior dress, next to Ramos. She let out a laugh. Beth turned to her, letting down spoon she was trying the soup with and went closer.

“Are these from Paris?”

“Yeah.” She said. She looked back in the bag, found a napkin, she picked out and realized—“I’m gonna kill him.” She whimpered, she didn’t mean it of course, all she wanted to do was kiss him. She read the names on the napkin, remembered writing them herself, the first night that she went out with the whole team. The jokes the shared, Neymar being a little too flirty. Kylian staring at her, a gaze that at that point she couldn’t decipher but now she longed for every time she closed her eyes.

“You look happy.” Said Beth, taking her out of her thoughts. She turned her attention to her, confused. Beth dragged back one of the chairs and sat down next to taylor. “Love the dress” she said as she picked out the picture with her and Ramos. Taylor forced a smile and looked back on the bag, there was as shirt in the bottom, she took out, it was with the psg colors, her name on the back, number 16 under it. She was bawling, but these tears tasted differently. “Aw sweetie.” Beth moved her chair closer to taylor and cuddled her like any mother would. She rubbed her head.

“The night before he left, he told me I should go back and I told him I couldn’t because I had him here and I couldn’t leave him—” she could hardly breathe “and now he’s gone and I got you and lily, I can’t leave you either—”

“Hun, listen to me—” Beth pulled away, forcing taylor to look at her, cradling her face “you are not gonna stay here for us.” Even she was crying now “Lily doesn’t need you to stay. She needs you to show her what life can be. She needs to see her older succeed in all the ways that you have. You know how proud I am that she’s got you to look up to?”

“Why do I always have to let go of something in order to get something else? It’s not fair—”

“Oh love…” Beth stroked her hair, her expression filled with compassion and love “unfortunately life is that way sometimes. And possibly this won’t be the last time you’ve got to make a choice like this but as your father would tell you—whatever will be, will be.” Taylor rubbed her nose; she was a mess. “As long as we are terrifying of wanting, that’s when life gets us down. Losing Charlie, it will haunt me forever, but he always cheered for us to get what we wanted, didn’t he? He was such a believer in knowing what you want, with no fear or embarrassment. Always sad that you were so scared of admitting to your own wants.” She smiled, kissing her temple “go to Paris. Be with him, be with the team, whatever you want and that’s when you’ll find balance.”

Taylor nodded and fell in her arms, in the back of her mind, thinking it was her father, that was holding her. She sank in the thought.

When everyone went to bed, she stayed in the living room, she had the lights low, the fireplace open. She was looking at the pictures, her t-shirt laid on the couch, while her computer stayed open on the table, on a booking website for airplane tickets. It was a simple and she’d go back, not necessarily to stay but to get a taste, she if she wanted or even if she could stay. She let down the pictures, leaned forward on the computer and clicked it.

No one said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard.

IM SORRY I PROMISE I NEVER MEANT FOR THIS STORY TO HE SO SAD ITS THE CHARACTERS 😭😭😭😭😭 god this one was a hard to write but i do hope you liked it!!! As Always your comments are welcomed and needed, especially now that we are so close to the end. The plan is for only two more chapters but it all depends to how long ch14 will be. What do you guys think now that it's ending? What has been your favorite moment and what do you think will happen? Will these two finally be happy in the city of stars 👀✨ keep an eye out for all the hints. Ending has already been revealed. Love you all so so much!!!

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