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peaky-shelby · 2 years ago

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NEW ROMANTICS | MBAPPÉ [12]

» 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 12: La Petit Mort

» Writer's note: i do hope y'all are not skipping to only the scenes that the main two are together 😭😭 also this chapter will be going back and forth so read carefully.

» 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 @mati09 @books-loverss @l0verl4ne @kypostsblog @bluberrycheezk @hottieluvr @calcaneous @444jodie @dudde-44 @neysgf @wallflowerjournal @p4rkyonce @toclic @kyliannnkkk @mad-die45 @tlk-duskwood @mentalbaddie @karotland

PLAYLIST ▶️

Chaos. Voices. Flashlights. Cameras. An endless of maze of people she had to pass through, that seemed to get thinner with every step she’d take. Even when she was away from the journalists, the noise remained. Teammates following behind her, calling her name but she couldn’t stop for anyone. All she could hear clearly was the loud beating of her anxious heart that anytime now would probably fall of her chest. And then silence. A loud bang of the bathroom door closing and everything was shut out of the door. She cuddled herself on the floor, hugging her knees up to her chest and counting down the numbers she had learned from kindergarten.

MAGAZINE “MATCH” LONDON OFFICES – 1 MONTH LATER

Silence. Low sound of keyboards and chatter on the background. Taylor is sitting in one of the cubicle desks in main foyer. She has her head leaned on her hand, her face giving away her boredom as she read through one of the articles that were sent to her. She printed it and got up, she went to her Boss’s office, leaving the files on his desk.

“Already done?” he asked

“I’m a quick reader.”

“or a lazy one.”

“I don’t appreciate my work ethic being questioned like that.” She warned, cutting off his jokes before he could go any farther.

“right… thank you, you can go then.”

“Did you consider my request? About champions league?”

“I told you I have more experienced writer’s on that.”

“Did you even read my points?”

Her boss rolled his eyes “Ms. Wilock, why don’t you go back and finish your work instead of telling me how to do mine?”

She wanted to punch him. Knock his head on the desk and walk away with her head held high but instead she just left his office, cursing every curse word on the dictionary. As she sat back on her desk and opened her computer, she saw a post about the PSG game against Montpellier and Kylian’s injury that apparently was gonna keep him out of the game with Bayern. Her mind going back to the last time she saw all of them together.

1 MONTH EARLIER – PARC DE PRINCES

Kylian rushed to find her, he was stopped by Neymar before he could reach the bathroom door, pushed back by him. “Told you not to fuck with her!” he warned. Kylian slapped Neymar’s hand away and tried to move passed him. Ney stood in front of him, unbothered “Leave her alone!”

They’d continue fighting if it wasn’t for Taylor’s father walking by them to get to his daughter. Kylian slipped away from Neymar and followed Charlie. Marquinhos joining them shortly after.

“Taylor, it’s me! Open the door!” Said her dad knocking for her. There was no response.

“What the ‘ell happened?” Verratti came in, raising his hands. The second Kylian saw him, he felt like he lost any patience he was left with. He tried to attack him, jumping forward.

“Toi et ta ami!” he shouted, Marquinhos held him back. Standing between Verratti and Mbappe. The team was falling apart and all because of a vicious woman that wanted to make a name for herself in the cost of others.

“You’re blaming this on Verratti?” yelled Neymar, ready to grab Kylian by the arm but getting dragged away last minute by Messi. “He’s not the one that said those things about her on a microphone!”

“I didn’t know I was being recorded!” he defended himself.

Taylor’s father kept knocking, still no response, while the boys behind him were fighting like animals but he didn’t care about them, he didn’t care about whose fault it was, he just wanted to make sure that his daughter would be ok. The door opened just a tiny bit and he got inside, shutting it again. Kylian was gonna walk in as well if it wasn’t for Neymar standing in front of it. “Don’t you fucking dare!” The door flew open again, her father coming out worried.

“Get one of the medics here, Now!” he shouted and Leo with Marquinhos were the first to ran down the hallway and search for help. Mbappe snuck in the bathroom and saw her on the floor, her back on the wall, half conscious, rapid breathing, her hand on her chest. She had been showing signs of getting worse for a while now, he never thought it’d be this bad. Neymar held her up with the help of her father and Kylian felt so helpless, so useless in that moment. He was pushed by the medics who came in and took control with moving her while they gave her an oxygen mask to help her breathing. That gave her some sort of peace. He trailed behind the medics while they moved her to calmer room, to let her lay in there. He watched them moving calmly around her, one of them injecting her with something while her dad gave them her full medical history from the back of his head. He made a few steps, he wanted to find the one that caused this. He went to exit the room and Messi blocked him.

“I know what you are thinking and it’s not happening.”

“I just wanna talk to her.”

“She’s with Galtier. He’s handling it.”

“He doesn’t care about taylor.” Said Kylian, waving his head “He’ll just fire her when Ann tells him everything.”

“What’s everything?”

Kylian didn’t answer but his eyes betrayed him. Everything about his posture was betraying him. Messi held back any judgement, there was just pity in his eyes while he looked at Kylian with his hands on his hips. “go home.” He told him. “She’ll be ok and the journalist will be handled— Kylian! You do anything else and this will only get worse for her. Go home.”

“I’ll take him.” Said Neymar. The two other men looked at him kinda worried “I’m not gonna drive the car on a wall, don’t worry.”

Kylian looked behind Neymar, Charlie was coming out of the small room with one of the medics, looking calm. Neymar turned around and walked over to Charlie “Is she good?”

“Yes. She’s fine, it was just an episode.” Charlie met Kylian’s eyes, it was easy for him to point out the guilt in them. Kylian gathered up his courage and walked up to him.

“I’m sorry for the part I might have had in this—”

Charlie raised his hand “Don’t, son. This wasn’t you. Her disease is something we both had to live with, like you, I blamed myself a lot. But it’s no ones fault.” He paused “Walk with me.” He motioned his head and Kylian followed. For the first few steps they said nothing, then— “It’s a tricky thing, our condition. It makes everything a little harder. Things that come easy to most of the people, like breathing, it’s something we struggle with most times.” They stopped in front of a window, the moon watching over them. “She had to sacrifice way more than I did, I think sacrificing became a way of living for her.” He looked up and down at Kylian “I’m not dumb. I know more than she thinks about you two.” Kylian looked down. “I can also see in your eyes that you didn’t mean to hurt her today.” Kylian rubbed his face.

“I don’t even remember talking to that woman.”

“My worst fear is that when I am gone, Taylor will sacrifice everything again. Cause sacrificing it’s all she’s ever known. And I need to be sure before I do, that she’ll have something that will stop her from doing so. Anything that she can count on, the same way she is counting on me.” Kylian could already feel the weight of what her father was asking him “if you wanna make it better, make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Kylian let his words linger in his head. He thought about it while Neymar was driving him home. The silence was loud between the two.

“I should have spoken to Galtier.” He suddenly said “see what he knows. Prevent him from making any rush decisions.” Neymar gripped on the steering wheel. “What happened is on me. If he doesn’t know about me and her there’s no reason to fire her—”

“He knows Kylian!” Kylian looked up at Neymar. Neymar puffed his cheekbones “I spoke with Marquinhos. Ann told him everything. All her theories at least. She’s running with it…” he shook his head “Taylor shouldn’t have to go through this. They’ll eat her alive.”

Kylian wanted to knock his head in the window, instead he settled for hitting his knee repeatedly. While he was trying to recall anytime that they might have been seen together, anytime they held on each other for too long when they were cameras around, every time he teased her, brought her to her limit.

“HEY!KY! STOP!”

“MERDE!” He yelled and punched the door with his fist.

“Galtier is trying to control it”

“he’s going to control it by firing her—I promised her this wouldn’t happen!”

Neymar stopped the car outside of Kylian’s garage. A moment ago he would be yelling at him but he could see how much he was regretting his actions and how guilty he felt for Taylor. Perhaps, he thought, he really cared about his friend. “Go to sleep. We can fix this in the morning.”

Kylian nodded and left his car. He went up to his house, sitting on his bed, the bed she used to spent her nights in for a week before he blew everything up. He closed his eyes, covering them with his hands and let his mind wonder to the few memories he had with her. During half time, just a few hours ago the team was in the locker rooms, messed up because of how the game was going. She walked to the middle. Her eyes meeting his, because they had this secret understanding with each other.

“we’re a team” she said, her voice low but confident “from the ball boys, to you, to all the assistants, me, Galtier, we are a team. We lose and mourn together, win and celebrate together and defeats are softened and victories sweetened because we did them together.” She was looking at him when she said the last few words, he smiled. “so go out there and be a team and whatever happens we will deal with it together.”

Together. He wanted to hug her when she said that, it’s like his body and soul needed the contact and it killed him that he couldn’t do it. He settled for a short squeeze of hands and went back out there to play, clueless of the chaos that would follow just a while after. She doesn’t deserve it, he thought.

He got up quickly and went at his desk on the living room, throwing his documents left and right searching for something. He looked under the desk too but couldn’t find it. One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t stop until he did.

TAYLOR’S HOUSE – NIGHT

“come on, lay down.” Charlie helped her sit on the bed and ran on the kitchen to get an extra glass of water for her. She drank it all, mostly because she knew her father wouldn’t really give her a choice about it. Then she laid down, closing her eyes. “you need rest.”

“I need to know what the public knowns.”

“Nothing about you and Kylian yet, other than that you hate each other. What are you doing—put the phone down.” He took the phone from her and left it back on the nightstand.

“I want to talk to Galtier!”

“Tomorrow! You need to sleep!

“Did Marquinhos call?”

“Taylor!”

She kept her mouth shut, biting her lip, her eyes reflecting all of the sorrow she was feeling “did he call?”

Her father took the glass from her hand and laid her on the bed, dragging the blankets from under her and covering with them so she would warm. He tucked her in, lifting the blanket up to her chin so no part of her would be exposed. Taylor kept looking at him, waiting for him to give answer. “sleep, you’ll talk to everyone in the morning.”

But the night would only grow longer and the morning didn’t seem to be coming any time soon for either of the two and the grew more impatient, waiting for the sun to come up. Kylian was the first to leave his apartment. It was barely morning, the sky was still purple, the Paris streets were empty and as he drove, he kept thinking if he was doing the right thing. Then all of a sudden he was outside of Galtier’s mansion. He knocked on the door, a repeated loud knock until one of the maids opened up and he rushed inside, searching for his coach. Galtier came out of his kitchen confused.

“What are you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t fire her!”

Galtier sighed, his face proving just how tired he was already from this situation.

“Listen to me! I didn’t mean what I said—I was angry!” he searched in his pocket.

“Kylian! It’s not about what you said—” Galtier stopped talking when Kylian slapped a napkin on his hand. He looked at it, examined it, trying to understand what it was. He could make up some of the names on it, a shape that looked like a football pitch. The handwriting was Taylor’s.

“She did an entire game strategy on napkin. Just two days after she got here. A freaking napkin. And we won! You really going to waste this talent because I was an asshole?” Galtier looked up at him. Pity in his eyes. He motioned for Kylian to come inside the kitchen, he told him to seat while he poured a cup of coffee for each of them. He left the napkin on the table, along with the cup and sat down next to him. Kylian’s confidence was gone, he was back to being a guilty boy, his eyes turned away from anyone that could read them to find out just how broken he was.

“How much of it is true?” asked Galtier. Kylian focused on the smoke from the warm coffee in front of him. He didn’t want to admit to anything that might have been too much, what if it was a trick question. That was a good enough answer for Galtier. “She doesn’t have any pictures. If she did the story would be out already. You’re lucky. But you’re not safe. She’s not safe from the press or the internet.” All Kylian wanted to do was drop his face on the burning coffee. “Ann has in her hands what could be a career changing story, you think she’s going to let it go out of the good of her heart?” Galtier drank a little from his coffee, left the cup back down.

“So what’s the plan?”

“The plan is to let me handle it, so both the team and Taylor come out of it unharmed.”

“What about her job?”

Galtier paused, looked in Kylian’s eyes “that’s not my decision. And before you go rushing to the president’s house… it’s not his decision either. If you know what I mean…”

KYLIAN’S HOUSE – 1 MONTH LATER

“Fuck!” he groaned as he sat up from his couch. It had been a while since the injury but it still hurt when he moved abruptly. He walked over to his door and opened it, to find Neymar and Messi on the other side. Neymar was holding a bag with food and Messi had a box with beers. They walked in before Kylian invited them too, they were already in some deep conversation, speaking in Spanish. Kylian watched them walking to the couch, a bit confused as to why they were here in the first place. The two of them sat on the couch, making themselves comfortable. Neymar even took of his shoes so he could lay his legs on the table and Leo sat cross-legged on the pillows. Kylian approached them slowly, narrowing his eyes, he crossed his arms, standing over them, waiting for them to notice him and pause their conversation. Suddenly Neymar turned to him, looking a little annoyed to Kylian’s surprise.

“You can stand there the whole night? Sit down man, eat!” Neymar opened the bag and took out a couple of wrapped tacos. He placed them on Kylian’s table, who, again, watched while his two teammates started eating over his couch.

“Gosh, these are good! Kylian you should try them—”

“What are you doing here?” he snapped, waving his hands in the air.

Neymar looked at him with a full bite in his mouth, his expression resembling one of a kid’s that was being reprehended by his mum while eating. Leo stuffed his mouth with the rest of the taco and wiped the sausage from his lips. Then he opened one of the beers “Beer?” he asked and held it for him. Kylian was still confused by accepted the beer anyway. He sat on one of the chairs and Leo gave a beer to Neymar as well.

“How’s your leg?” asked Leo.

Kylian was still drinking so he shrugged his shoulders as a response.

“What did the doctor say about Bayern?” questioned Neymar.

“They don’t know yet!” he admitted and stared at the floor.

“Are you flying to the Event tomorrow?”

“Yes, why?”

Leo and Neymar gave each other a knowing look, Ney leaned forward and took a paper magazine out of the bag, throwing it on the table. The sound made Kylian look up, his eyes falling on the magazine and reading the headline. Something about Champions League. He gazed at Neymar “what’s that?”

“Read it!” prompted Leo. Kylian stretched out his body to get the magazine and opened it to start reading, multiple columns about multiple teams.

“What am I supposed to be reading?”

“Page 12.”

Kylian flipped the pages, stopping on page 12 and started reading. It was an interview of a footballer’s wife that he had never even heard of.” He was wondering why he was wasting his time reading it until he reached the end and saw her name on the bottom. He raised his head at his teammates, half confused and half angry.

“There is no way she wrote this.”

“Bet she’s not proud of it, but she did.” Answered Leo.

“She hated these stuff!”

“She still does, she just doesn’t have a choice.”

Neymar cleared his throat as if he was making a shot at Kylian, but the latter ignored it “They have someone like her, writing this shit?”

“We had someone like her and didn’t use her pretty well either so I’m not sure we should be judging.” Mumbled Neymar. Kylian threw the magazine at him.

“Still don’t understand why you are here. I tried to convince her to stay. She’s barely answering my texts now. What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell us the whole truth finally! Why did she leave if the story about you two never broke out?”

Kylian thought about it, his mind going back to the last time he saw her. The shot that he lost.

PSG CAMPUS – GALTIER’S OFFICE – 1 MONTH EARLIER

Taylor felt weird walking down these hallways. She felt like she was going to be ambushed by journalist or worst Kylian before she had the chance to reach Galtier’s office but thankfully she made it there without a scar. Knocking on the door and entering slowly. Sitting in her spot, looking as awkward as she had on the first day she got here.

Galtier examined her like he was expecting her to go first but she didn’t even know where to start.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good.”

“What did the doctor’s say?”

“To take it more easy.”

“doesn’t sound like you.”

She snorted “yeah, it’s not.”

He smiled, leaned forward on his desk “I don’t know if you’ve spoken with Kylian—” she shook her head negatively immediately, Galtier nodded “in any case, there are rumors and please don’t try to refuse them, that’s not why you are here.” She lowered her head. She was a grown up, an adult, pretending this wasn’t her fault would be childish. “As you understand, stay or leave, there need to be some differences around here. And you need to prepare yourself for the worst”

“I already have.” She whispered, her eyes finally meeting Galtier’s, then in one breath she said the brutal truth before he could “I can’t stay.” Galtier was taken aback by her decision, he was scared by how easily and quickly she made it. She must have noticed the terror in his eyes because she was quick to continue “it’s a conscious decision. I pride myself for being fair, I have to be fair with myself as much as I am with the others. What happened…” her voice trailed off, breaking because she could see him in her mind, smiling, holding her, caring for her “it was wrong.” But why did it feel so right? Why did apologizing for it felt like lying? She cleared her throat and continued “I’d love to say that I can pretend it never happened, but I won’t be able to…”

“Ms. Wilock—”

“I don’t think I belong in this world anymore. I don’t think I can keep my mouth shut when I see the things that are happening and writing…” she smiled “I miss it.”

“Looks to me like you are running away.”

“maybe.” She mumbled, staring at her fingers, scratching her nails. “But we both know the backlash, if Ann runs with the story, is going to be insufferable. I’m never going to be respected, always under the shadow of a man, Kylian and…” she paused “you. All me success will go to you, meanwhile I’ll have to deal with every sexist comment on the dictionary. And normally I wouldn’t mind, I’m tough but… half of it will be true and it’s killing me. It’s killing me that I gave them exactly what they wanted.”

Galtier listened to everything she was saying, carefully, he almost understood her. It’s only that if he had an opportunity like hers, to make the amount of money that she was making here but perhaps that was the difference between the two. So he let her go as quickly as she came. She exited his office, head held high but eyes burning with the need to cry and her body asking to fall apart. There was something about making rush decisions like that, like pulling off a band aid to open wound, doctors always said that was the right way, right? In any case she was used to do doing it like that, losing a career from one day to another, losing people she loved because she was unable to love them, because she was scared.

“I wouldn’t know…I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. Don’t think I’d even recognize the feeling if I did.” Her fingers slipped into his, he held them, stroking them gently and looking down at her as they sat cross-legged on his floor, then he smiled.

“Not even Mason?”

She snorted, slapping his hand “even that was a teenage crush. Nothing more. I’m telling you, it has never happened to me, I’m not built that way.” She shrugged her shoulders “maybe it’s because I know first hand everything has an expiration date. It’s hard to be as romantic when you’ve felt that.”

He interlocked his fingers with her as they sat cross-legged on his floor, candles keeping the atmosphere calm for both of them “it’s a messy feeling” he said in a low tone “one day it drives you mad. The other it’s peace.” He smiled, gazing over her hands, so tiny and yet able to keep him still for as long as they wanted “It gets you angry, impatient, miserable and at the same time calm, proud, loved.” He brought her fingers up to his lips, leaving light kisses on them “La petite mort” he whispered in her hands. She enjoyed the feeling of his warm breath washing over her skin. It’s the first time she didn’t mind him speaking French, like language barrier between the two was broken.

“What does that mean?” she asked, waiting for him to look her in the eyes.

He continued massaging her hands, a smile coming up to his lips, a teasing smile. “Small death. Its an expression. The French use it to describe the brief loss or weakening of consciousness” he looked in her eyes, with that dirty look combined with care “otherwise known as the feeling of post orgasm as likened to death, for us French people.” Even his words had an affect on her, the way that he said them, how easily he spoke about it. She slid closer to him, blushing and smiling.

“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.

He pushed her hair behind her ear, his finger enjoying the contact with her skin, the energy that vibrated between them and he leaned in, his lips barely touching hers “la petite mort” he said, his bottom lip hooking on her upper and dragging her closer to him until all her strengths crumbled and she dropped herself in him to chase her small death for the night.

And she wished she could chase it again but all she was chasing now was the exit, leaving the campus before he could see her, before she could lay her eyes on him because she worried that if she did all she’d chase would be him and a life made of sugar.

Kylian was training when Neymar ran to tell him that Taylor was upstairs, meeting with Galtier. Considering that all his texts went answered from the night before he ran upstairs. There was feeling of Déjà vu. Just one month ago he was running up to her and Galtier to yell, to tell her how much he hated her boss and now he was running to stop her because he couldn’t stand to the thought that he’d be the reason of her losing something she loved so much for the second time. When he got to Galtier’s office it was empty. His assistant was the bearer of bad news, Taylor had already left and she wouldn’t be coming back.

“Where are you going? We have three hours left!” Yelled Neymar but Kylian didn’t respond. Suddenly he heard a tougher voice, cold and brutal.

“Seven!” He stopped on his tracks, Galtier was standing in front of him. “I don’t suppose you are going anywhere else but training” he said, but it was more of an order “this fiasco ends here. If you wanna be anywhere else, you get there when you are done with your schedule. This is not high school football.”

Kylian gulped but he knew if she was here, she’d tell him the same thing. So, he obeyed and he continued with his training until the sun was down. While on the locker room, Verratti approached him hesitantly, sitting next to him while he was tying his shoes. He gave him a card, he took it, examining it. The name of Annette Monet, along with her details.

“You can give it to taylor if she wants to talk to her. Tell her I’m sorry if you see her.”

Kylian threw the card on his bag. “Why would I see her?”

“You were much closer than I was with her.”

“What did Annette tell you?”

“She hasn’t told me anything. It was me that did most of the talking but I didn’t think…”

“I told you not to get a journalist involved Marco!”

“She was a friend.”

“Obviously not.” He tied the knot on his shoe tighter and got up.

How did he find himself in her apartment? Knocking on her door to be let in? He’s been asking himself the same question ever since that night. One minute he was driving and the other he was standing in front of Charlie, same look in his eyes as the day before. Charlie was smoking a cigarette, he made note of it because he thought it was weird for him to be smoking in his condition. Then he heard Taylor walking closer to the door “I told you to lit that thing off! For crying out loud dad—” she stopped in her steps when she saw Kylian. She was holding cash in her hand, probably expecting the delivery man instead. They looked at each other, silent, until her father took the initiative to invite Kylian in and excused himself seconds later, leaving them alone.

Kylian looked around the room, her suitcases on the floor, a pile of clothes on the desk. Her room looked as messy as ever but it was a different kind of messy, it didn’t feel as warm as he remembered it to.

“What are you doing?” he asked almost disappointed.

She didn’t reply, instead she gazed away from him. Looking at some sort of comfort in her walls, considering digging a hole so she could sneak out of this situation quicker. He made a step forward, confident. “Why?” he asked and it made have been one word but it mirrored a thousand questions that she didn’t have a clear answer to.

“There’s no use talking about it Kylian, what’s done is done.”

“We can stop her from putting out the article—”

”no we can’t and what’s worse is that we can’t stop ourselves! We can delay her, we can put a pause to this, we can pretend we are not driving towards a cliff but eventually we’ll pay the price.”

“Even if it breaks, I can protect you. I’ll take the heat--”

“no you won’t!” she mumbled, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead.

“Merde—you think I’d let you alone in this--?”

“I have no doubt that you’ll do your best not to Kylian but you’re a man. No one’s gonna care about you fucking the new assistant. If anything, you’ll be praised for it! Me? I’ll always be the slut, my abilities will always be compared to this, poisoned by this. They don’t even know about this so far and your interview already has them hating on me—”

“That interview was illegal!”

“Does it really matter what it was?” She topped his voice. Kylian held back from answering. Maybe because he knew it didn’t make any difference. He really had said those things about her, what’s worse is that he really believed them when he said them. “Honestly between you and me, I don’t know if you ever trusted me as a coach at all! Don’t—” she raised her hand to stop him “you don’t have to say anything. It doesn’t matter, just please understand, that this is for the best.”

“You’re letting go of your dream for a stupid rumor—”

“where’s the fucking dream Kylian? Because this shit feels like a nightmare since day one. Me, trying to be someone I’m not. Chasing a vision, I had when I was a kid and realizing it comes with things I could never stand behind. I value respecting myself and choices more than the zeros on the paycheck.”

“What about me, then?” he asked, his voice firmer. “What about Ney? The rest of them? Is that what all of this was to you? Zeros on a paycheck?”

“Obviously not—”

“Then why are you acting like you’re just leaving a job?”

“So, I won’t break apart!” she yelled, her voice breaking, trembling. She hid her face immediately after she said it. Covering her eyes. “You think this easy? Cause it’s not.” She whispered in her palms and waited to hear the door opening and closing but instead she felt him coming closer, she felt his hands on her shoulders. His head leaning closer.

“This is my fault—”

“Its not about that!” she said, looking up. Having him this close was making her stomach ache. “We are both adults. All of this has been a series of choices that I made for myself. My choice when I gave in to you knowing there’d be consequences, my choice to keep it a secret, not putting an end to it and this… this is my choice too. I’m not letting anyone else make it for me, not Ann, not Galtier, not the world and not you. It’s just me facing the music--” she held his face in her hands, her thumb stroking his eyebrow “and I don’t blame you for it either. I knew what I was doing.” She leaned closer, her eyes began to stink “I wanted it. In a way, this is me protecting it.”

“It’s the wrong choice.”

“Maybe.” It came out so soft “But at least it’s mine.” She smiled and a second later she dived in his hold while he held her against his chest, his face hidden in her hair. Her face was molded on his shoulders, sinking in his perfume, his skin, his everything. He squeezed her in his arms, making a memory of what it felt like to have her there. “Do me a favor.” Her voice came out muffled from his shoulders.

“What?”

“Take a look at your leg before it’s too late.”

He laughed, his body vibrating. She tilted her head and kissed his cheek, her lips lingering on his cheekbone, he moved slowly, his head turning so he’d be kissing her lips instead. A slow kiss, their lips hooking on each other’s and dragging each other out until he molded his completely in hers.

“I’ll stop the article.” He whispered

“How?”

“I’ll find a way.” He said and he was confident. She kissed his cheek again and pulled away because any longer and they wouldn’t be able to control themselves.

TAYLORS’S HOUSE / LONDON – 1 MONTH LATER

Taylor threw her bags on the couch and walked over to the kitchen, getting a beer from the fridge. She started drinking when she heard tiny steps coming down the stairway, she walked back in the living room to meet her sister, who rushed to her arms.

“Hey little one!” she laughed, accepting the hug. “Ready for bed?”

“Can you convince mama to watch a little TV?” she pouted

“Hmm, I don’t think so. I think it’s time to sleep.”

“That’s right, thank you Taylor!” said Beth as she came down the stairs. Taylor smiled when she saw her and knelt down in front of Lily, stroking her long black curls.

“How about you run upstairs and I read you a bedtime story?”

“Will it be about football?”

She laughed “I was thinking the little mermaid.”

Lily nodded with a smile and ran up the stairs. Taylor turned to Beth, the smile fading from her face. “How’s dad?”

“Same as yesterday but he still got that fucking cigarette in his hand.”

Taylor went to find her father. He was in his office, a cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other, he was writing, always writing she thought as she approached him. He lit it off when he saw her by pressing it on the ashtray and he smiled at her, opening his mouth to speak but it was interrupted by coughing.

“She’s right for being mad at you, you know?”

“I know.” He sighed “but it’s only the second one, I promise.”

She noticed he had his inhaler laid on the table, next to the papers. He got up “Is lily in bed?”

“Yes.” She said but she was still looking at the inhaler. Terrifying how much a person could be depended on material things after all. “Did you speak with the doctor?” she crossed her arms to her chest, biting her cheek.

“Same old. Same old.” He stroked his daughter’s face. “Let’s not talk about it.” He kissed her temple and walked away. That’s when her phone began to buzz in her pocket, she took it out, looking at the caller id, comfort washing over her as she the name and picked it up.

“How’s my terrifyingly tall best friend doing?”

His laugh echoed on her ear. “I’m good. Missed ya. Are you coming tomorrow?” She puffed her cheeks, having completely forgotten about the invitation. “I’ll take that as a yes because you don’t really have a choice.”

“Jude, it’s not the best of time and I’m exhausted.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t make me call Trish and have her dragging you at the party—”

“You wouldn’t, you’re terrified of her.”

“That’s not true.” He said but his tone was betraying him. Taylor laughed. “Doesn’t matter, as long as you come. Maze will be here, Saka, Rashford—I heard beckham might make an appearance!”

“Now you’re just straight up lying!”

“Maybe but it’s what I’ll tell Trish and you know she’ll do anything in her power for you to come if she hears Beckham will be there.”

“You play dirty!”

“I play smart, love.”

She snorted. Looking behind her at Beth and her father leading Lily to her bedroom. “Will any other teams be there?” she heard him chuckling from the other side of the phone “Don’t be a smug!”

“it’s a party TJ! I don’t have the full list. Just come, have a drink. I wanna introduce you to a few people. Please for me. Do it for breaking my heart as a kid. It’s your last chance to see me before I head back to Germany”

“Fine. Ok. But I’m leaving early.”

“Sounds good to me darling.”

Some days he’d catch himself thinking about her, he’d hear a whistle and turn around expecting her to be there, moving her finger at him. He’d have a bad game and expect her to turn up in the locker room, yelling and making her sarcastic comments. Her exit was noticed by everyone, for most on the field but for Kylian, he’d feel it at home too. His lonely, big and cold home with the million-dollar view and the lifeless interior. He tried to replace her by flirting, going out, focusing on getting better and for a short time he thought he made it. During games he wouldn’t think about her so much, he’d play like he used to, her perfume fading from her memory until he felt the pain in his thigh midgame. It was brutal. He had to sit down, cursing himself while the medics gathered around him. He could hear her so clearly on his mind, the “I told you so” slipping from her lips.

And now while he was laying on his bed, reading her name on a magazine, thinking about the talent that was being wasted, he wished she was there, so he could tell her to run. Instead, she was stuck back in her own life, in her family home, tucking in her sister, working in an office in the morning and seeing her dad slowly fading. Different hallways, different lives. She laid on her couch, tv on, lights dim and she was writing on her computer, an article about Champions League and the teams that would be playing against each other next week. One of them of course was PSG and then she had to write his name and suddenly her fingers froze on the keyboard and she looked at it. Names, she thought, they have so much power over people.

NATIONAL EURO TEAMS EVENT – NIGHT

“This dress is too fucking tight” said taylor, dragging it so it wouldn’t lift too high.

“No…” mumbled Trish “that’s just you.”

Taylor smacked her as the two of them walked in the after party and Trish would have reacted if she wasn’t scanning the place for all the hot footballers she could get laid with. So many familiar faces and yet there was one missing “do you see beckham anywhere?”

“Jesus Trish, he is not coming. Bellingham lied to you—”

“No, he didn’t. I know when he lies, he knows I know, I can smell it on him and he’s too intimidated to lie.”

Taylor looked at her friend with worry, wondered how she always got her way with men so easily. Suddenly she felt someone coming and throwing his arm around her, and she would have jump if she didn’t recognize the cologne. She turned her head up, a smile Jude Bellingham pulling her closer to him.

“Jude, I can’t breathe—”

“Ah! I’m so happy you came!”

“Where is he Jude?” Asked Trish, interrupting their sweet moment. Jude looked up at her, smirking.

“Brought your bulldog with you, I see!” he smiled. “He’s not here yet.”

Trish walked closer to him, perhaps too close and Taylor watched them. She could feel the energy between the two, something between hate, fear and love, it was such a familiar sensation. “If he doesn’t show up, I’m gonna blame you and you are going to find that unpleasant.” She poked his chest and backed away, turning around--

“I’ve got to tell you something, you’re kinda hot when you’re like this.”

She flipped her hair, gave him a smirk “I’m always like this.”

Taylor couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Jude checking Trish out as she walked away, specifically focused on her curves, biting his tongue. “EW!” She exclaimed before she could stop herself. Jude returned his attention to her smiling and interlocked his arms with hers, “Come on, I need you to meet people.”

“What people?”

She wished she hadn’t asked because she heard so many names that night, her mind overloading with information. Until she reached the main target for the night. Sarina Wiegman, head coach of the national team of England. Jude took the initiative to introduce them while taylor was struggling to keep her cool. It was midway that she realized Jude was basically promoting her like she was a multitasking phone. She barely got the chance to speak while Jude was making a list of her entire career, sometimes exaggerating. Sarina seemed to be enjoying it, eager to know about her time in France, working with Coach Galtier.

“We are recruiting new people to follow us in Australia for the world cup. I’ll certainly keep you in mind young lady.” She said with a smile, before excusing herself. Taylor looked at Bellingham, with her mouth wide open. Jude was laughing at her reaction, feeling proud of his childhood friend.

“Did she really just say that?”

“Yeah, I think she did—”

Taylor had thrown herself on him before he could finish the sentence and he picked her up, spinning her around while they both laughed. When he let her down, she continued jumping out of excitement, only stopping when her eyes caught a sight of very familiar eyes, eyes that she hadn’t seen in years.

“Well, if it isn’t the first girl that left me on read!” He joked, a glass of champagne in one hand while the other was held out for her to shake.

“Mace…” she said in a sweet whisper, full of adoration and as soon as she gave him her hand, he pulled her in a hug. It was like she was on a time machine, surrounded by her childhood friends, before it all went to shit, a future full of possibilities. She pulled back to look at his face, smiling.

“Thank god you got rid of the bangs.”

He let out a belly laugh while Jude came round him and settled his arm around his neck “that’s what I keep telling him.”

“God this is so weird.” She mumbled “watching you two together when you both belong in different parts of my life.”

“Judy has told me all about you breaking his heart for Carbonara.”

“Carbonara is always worth it—wait a minute, did you just say Judy?”

Bellingham rolled his eyes “swear to god man—” Mason winked and squeezed Jude’s side as a joke. Jude jumped, stepping away from him immediately. “Stop doing that.” He whined. Taylor laughed at his reaction.

“You two fighting again?” Rushford stood behind Taylor, giving her a quick look before smiling “And in front of the lady?”

Taylor smiled when she saw him, putting her hand out immediately “I’m Taylor. It’s very nice to meet you, Marcus.”

“Oh? I think I just met your friend.” He shook her hand.

“Oh gosh is she drunk already?”

“I think she was looking for David beckham so possibly yes.” Taylor hid her face in her hands, groaning. “She’s with Saka now, though.”

“What’s she doing with him?” Jude asked, stepping forward and walking in between the crowd to get to Saka, Rushford followed behind them. Mason put his arm around Taylor and they started following behind the other two.

“So, is this like a European gathering for teams?”

“It’s supposed to be an unofficial celebration for the beginning of EURO 2024” He explained, talking in her ear so she’d hear better.

“Don’t tell me Ronaldo is coming.” She laughed

“Yeah, he’ll be here, right after Beckham.”

Taylor let out a loud laughter, elbowing her ex boyfriend. She looked forward, trying to find the rest of the group that had left them behind when she saw his silhouette in between all the others.

Expensive Dior suit. Golden watch on his wrist, same hand that he was holding his drink. She didn’t mean to but she held Mason’s hand, maybe because she needed to hold something in order not to run to him.

“Kylian.” She whispered and their eyes met in the darkness, the invisible string between the two, pulling them closer again.

Did he think about going to find her the minute he landed in London? Of course, he did and he probably would if it wasn’t for his management rushing him to get changed and got to event. He didn’t wanna be there, he wasn’t in the mood. His leg still hurt and most of these people, he didn’t even like but he had to pretend to be all happy and giggling. He tried to stay with his teammates from France for most of the night but people kept interrupting. He had his hand on his pocket for most of the night, ready to call her, see how she was doing. While he was in deep conversation with Giroud when he caught a glimpse of Mason Mount. He followed him with his eyes until he saw him stopping behind someone that looked like Bellingham. He tried seeing who was behind Jude but whoever it was, was short. Then his heart dropped, a woman’s figure that took him only 5 seconds to process was Taylor, being pulled into Mason’s arms. His froze right where he was, he watched, his eyes examining her every movement while she spoke with the two men she knew from childhood. Men that knew her better than he ever would probably.

“Kylian, are you ok?” Asked Giroud. Kylian looked at him quickly, nodding.

“Yes, I’ll be back right away.”

He excused himself, pushing the crowd so he’d get closer to her. Stopped when he was a few steps away from her and he saw her gripping on Mason’s arm, while her eyes locked with his.

Mason broke the ice by greeting Kylian like they were long lost friends, he even tried to make conversation with him but if you asked either Taylor or Kylian what he was saying, neither of them would be able to answer. They were to occupied listening to each other’s thoughts.

“Hey Mase. Why don’t you find Jude, I’ll come find you in five.”

Mason nodded and walked past Kylian, putting him in the shoulder as he left. Taylor then stepped closer to Kylian, motioned with her head and signaled him to follow her outside. He swallowed his entire drink in one ago and he followed.

Maybe if it wasn’t for Kylian she would have noticed her phone was out of battery again. Maybe if it wasn’t for Kylian she would have left earlier or Trish would find her quicker. Maybe she’d know that Beth was calling her repeatedly.

What do you mean in 3 chapters I'm gonna have to say goodbye to all of them????? What do you mean that this story is ending???? HOW THE FUCK DID A POSSIBLE ONE SHOT TURN TO 180 PAGES AND 90.000+ WORDS???? WHAT IN THE HELL???? WHY AM I CRYING??????? I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! Adore you to the moon and back and thank you for always commenting please please never stop interacting it's the only thing that keeps this story going and i do not take it for granted. I can see that the hype is over and most of the readers are gone but the few that are still here please as always leave a comment to keep the fire going. Feedback is the best gift in the world. Now.... What do you think beth needs Taylor for? How did Kylian stop Ann??? Is Taylor gonna find her place in the national team and move to Australia???? SO MANY QUESTIONS!!! LEAVE YOUR ANSWERS 👀👀👀

#newromanticsfic #mbappe x reader #football writing #neymar x reader #mbappe imagines #imagines #kylian mbappe one shot #kylian mbappe imagines

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holy3cake · 7 months ago

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Get to know you better!

Thank you for the tag @lancedoncrimsonwings!

Do you make your bed? Yep, but somehow my sheets never seem to fit properly. I hate the snappy corners.

Favourite number? 3 or 13, I really like "unlucky" numbers, but I do tend to get good news in 3's so I'm drawn to that number.

What's your job? I work in conservation, but I'm planning to start my PhD soon (employment psychology).

If you could go back to school, would you? Absolutely, and I did! I had some years out when I was younger, and I was scared that I couldn't return after that, but University honestly made who I am today :). If I had infinite money, I would go back and do at least two more degrees (I have a bachelor's in Psychology, but I would 100% go back and do English Lit and History).

Can you parellel park? Uhhh the first time I drove a car (my first and ONLY driving lesson) I drove into another car because I have AWFUL spatial awareness. So no, I cannot parallel park haha.

Do you think aliens are real? I'm kinda undecided on this one. I think I've watched too many horror movies so it's warped my overall view on aliens as a concept, but I would like to think they are real. But it's the psychologist in me that says no. I'm a bit of sceptic (especially with ghosts as well).

Can you drive a manual car? Following my previous car answer, the first car I drove was a Corsa without power-assisted driving and I was yanking the steering wheel like my instructor had suggested, but I crashed. So uhhh...no.

Guilty pleasure?...... I mean, apart from Harry Gilby? Probably not many, but I do like a shortbread (I try not to eat them because they have wayyyy too much sugar).

Tattoos? Unfortunately not, but I will endeavour to get @lancedoncrimsonwings to do a Daniel Sharman tattoo for me one day lmao.

Favourite colour? I used to love yellow when I was younger, but now I really like gold or bronze, almost candle tones.

Favourite type of music? I will listen to just about anything, but currently my playlist consists of Dua Lipa and Sabrina Carpenter. I always put on a good medieval lo-fi soundtrack when I'm writing though.

Do you like puzzles? I am extremely partial to a good sudoku puzzle, but I do like jigsaws as well (I just don't have a lot of time to do them).

Any phobias? I have Hydrophobia, but it's not as severe as it was when I was little. My husband is teaching me how to swim, so it's really nice to be able to get over that fear. I used to be scared of dogs as well, but now I love them :)

Favourite childhood sport? I genuinely don't know if this is a secondary school fever dream, but did anyone ever play benchball? When you stand on a bench and throw a softball at people? If you catch the ball, you get to join those on the bench, but if the ball hits you you're disqualified? It was absolutely hilarious.

Do you talk to yourself? Yeeeep, I think we all do don't we? Although I tend to just kind of speak aloud, normally when I'm writing or reading.

Tea or coffee? I really love coffee flavoured things, but despise coffee itself. Like coffee and walnut cake is my absolute dream. But I have to choose tea, I'm probably the most stereotypical Brit you'll meet, I would carry a box of tea with me if I could lmao. Earl grey is my go to though, especially to enjoy with @waterfallsilverberrywrites TLK fanfics :)

What movies do you adore? I am an absolute horror buff, I'm working my way through every single one. Buuuut my favourite movie is Love, Rosie, so take from that what you will haha.

No pressure tags: (Please do not feel pressured to answer all of the questions, this is purely what you're comfortable with :))

@jayalover @lord-aldhelm @waterfallsilverberrywrites @persephones-journey @redacted-thething @cary-elwes @book-and-music-lover

#tag game #about me #facts #get to know your mutuals better

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miagkoi · 1 year ago

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made a tlk yt playlist to collect analysis and behind the scene content...

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skatingthinandice · 2 years ago

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🎶and 🌹for the fic ask meme :)

ahh thank you nane!

🎶 do you use song lyrics and/or poetry in titles? how do you pick them? i use song lyrics quite a lot, no poetry so far. usually it's because i'll be listening to a song around the same time as writing and find the lyrics fit. sometimes they're songs that i've already associated with the pairing i'm writing about, sometimes it's a song i relate to a different pairing but the lyrics fit what i'm writing, sometimes the song is completely random but the lyrics stand out! i made a playlist with all the songs i've picked for fic titles (idea shamelessly stolen from @egg2k16) and i was slightly surprised to find them outweighed by non-song lyric titles tbh

🌹 pick a title and explain how you chose it, its meaning, and anything else you’d like to share. i'm most proud of the titles from my TLK series' as i like to link them together in some way. with the side by side series, i chose to use three word titles with at least one word beginning with the letter 'b', because the first work in the series set the trend. with the meanwhile in mercia series, they're all one letter titles. i usually find some way of mentioning the title in the work itself as well, and sometimes other titles from the series too!

emoji fic title ask meme

#ask #fanfic writing escapades

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the-better-rainbow-unikitty · 2 years ago

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omg after yeaaarrrssss of seeing u tlk abt TAD ive finally heard a song bc of the playlist (thank you for joining) i heard wild blue yonder and yh now i get it <3

Yes yes YES!!! I love that one!!! This message made me so happy ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ I love them dearly and hope you'll like more of their songs

#ask #the amazing devil #tad

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tovalhallaandback · 4 months ago

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A Game of Revenge and Loyalty

Pairing: Stiorra Uhtredsdottir/Sigtryggr Ivarson

Summary: The career academy may have taught them how to win the Hunger Games, but nothing of how to win the game of love. A forbidden love becomes more complicated as they quickly learn, the Hunger Games were not the only thing they signed up for when they decided to volunteer.

AKA - It's a Hunger Games AU! Mentor/Mentee vibes. Career vibes. - But not in the way you might imagine! TONS of angst but a promised happy-ish ending.

Trigger Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!! HG Canon typical violence and atrocites. TLK Canon typical violence and atrocities. Better tags on AO3, with each chapter having a content warning drop down for those who do not wish to be spoiled.

REPLY TO THIS POST OR SEND ME AN ASK IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED OR REMOVED FROM THE TAGLIST

Read the first three chapters on AO3, or try the first chapter in full below the cut:

Falling in love with Sigtryggr Ivarson might just be the biggest she has ever made, but there’s no space to think about that right now - not when she’s leaning into the crook of his shoulder, not on a night like tonight.

All around her, the voices of her classmates from the Career Academy rhythmically shouting “Speech!” echo off the surrounding boulders as they gather in celebration of District Two’s next champions. She and her boyfriend stand closest to the high rock wall where a few wooden pallets form a makeshift stage. A wall of red stone wraps around them like an amphitheater, opening up into a landscape of sand, cacti, and boulders of assorted sizes. With his arm already wrapped around her waist, he pulls her closer to his body, their gazes never breaking as chocolate brown eyes meet ice blue. Her smile widens, dimples deepening as he leans down, placing a soft kiss on her forehead before turning to the crowd.

“You want a speech?” His gaze scans over the crowd, a glint of mischief awakening in his eyes as the surrounding rocks amplify his voice. The laughter of the gathered crowd bounces off the walls, a unified “Yes” quickly following. As they begin to shove him towards the pallets, his grip tightens on her, pulling her along with him onto the stage as the whole quarry vibrates around them from the music and cheers.

Since the first graduates of the Career Academy came of age to volunteer, it has become tradition to send off the next tributes with one last party. While District Two often produces a victor, there could only ever be one who returns. But even as their champions celebrate their last nights, sorrow never tinges the atmosphere (at least, no one lets their sorrow be known). They are proud, honored even, to be offering this sacrifice to the Capitol (at least, that’s what they tell themselves). And so, they feast and drink to their hearts’ desires, giving the next tributes one last night of memories. And tonight, the party is for her boyfriend - District Two’s next male tribute.

Sigtryggr clears his throat, silence suddenly falling around them. A coy smile plays on his lips as she brushes her hand over his chest, her doe eyes peering up at him. “Tomorrow, Skade and I will volunteer with a promise to bring District Two back to its glory.” Two hasn’t had a Victor since his older brother, Ivar, won seven years earlier, while One, a fellow Career District and their rival, has had three more since his brother's victory. “No longer will we allow our power to be doubted. When we fight, we fight for all of you and show no mercy. But tonight…” His eyes meet hers once more as he offers her a small wink, “Tonight, we drink.” She suppresses the urge to giggle at his antics - he has always had a way with words. Then with a raise of a beer to the crowd, he finishes his speech, “May the odds be ever in our favor!”

As the crowd erupts into cheers once more, he leans down capturing her lips with his own earning a few whistles amongst the applause and jubilation. A smile etches itself across her lips as he deepens the kiss, dipping her backwards until her long deep brown hair grazes the ground, briefly catching him throw a vulgar gesture towards the whistlers - Wolland, his brothers, and a few other snickering classmates of his. But, she hardly hears their jokes or even the rumbles of the crowd. Because for a brief moment, she finds herself forgetting their location and the reasons for this party.

But as quickly as the moment has started, it disappears, suddenly tugged back up and released, the chants of his name intensifying. She gnaws on her lower lip, fiddling with the label on her beer as she watches him burst into his infamous battle cry. Reaching into the crowd, he yanks Skade up onto the pallets with them, then the two tributes raise their clasped hands victoriously into the air as the cheers become the primary resounding noise in the abandoned quarry once more.

As District Two’s newly crowned champions bask in their glory, Stiorra slips off the stage wandering towards one of the quieter corners of the humming party. Taking a moment to sip her drink, a smile finds itself on her lips again as she gazes at him from a far - blue eyes aflame with hunger and excitement.

A year an half ago almost to the day, she complained to her brother about the stagnation in her melee skills. Daggers, throwing knives, and bows continued to be pushed upon her by the trainers, but in the small chance that none of those weapons became available in the arena, she decided that she needed to master all potential weaponry if she wanted to win. Upon hearing her doubts, her brother suggested she ask Sigtryggr for help.

Sure, she had always had a crush on her brother’s classmate, practically since her brother’s first day at the Academy. And, Sigtryggr had seemed nice enough - always polite in their brief exchanges, intervening when Skade went after her older brother…He had also always been a great fighter, ranking number one in his class since his first year. But, she didn’t need a tutor; she just needed extra practice. Of course, her brother, trying to be the helpful kind older brother that he is, did not see it that way, nor did he seem to get her message (she very clearly growled at him for even suggesting she ask Sigtryggr for help), so next thing she knew, Sigtryggr was asking her to train with him.

For weeks, she fought the feelings that built inside of her. She denied that her temperament changed when he was around - denied that it killed her when the trainers forced them into individual studies. Told herself that the butterflies in her stomach were just from a questionable meal. But that all changed the day he pinned her to the ground after she refused to yield, even after losing her sword.

His ash-brown hair, almost chestnut brown under the winter sun, created a curtain around them, providing an illusion of privacy. For a moment, it was just the two of them as his ice blue eyes blinked back at hers. Before she could even try to wiggle free from his control, his lips were on hers sending shockwaves throughout her entire body. “I win,” he had whispered by her ear before releasing her from his weight and helping her to stand.

They both were punished for the incident, sent to their dorm rooms without food for the next twenty-four hours. Though, the kiss he gave her the next day when he yanked her into one of the darker corridors outside of the main training gym confirmed everything she had been trying so hard to deny. And after that day, she could not go a single day without seeing him. Too bad, she is about to lose him.

Despite the dark shadow that looms over his number one class ranking, she remains the proud girlfriend. Or at least, she tries to for him. For every time she showed even a drop of sadness for his future fate, he would dial back his intensity at the Academy, taking blows during matches that he typically would have seen coming, allowing for the opportunity for someone to displace him. But his blue eyes always remained stormy, instead of like the sky on a clear day, even with his insistence that he didn’t care whether or not he ranked first in his class and gender. She couldn’t blame him though - it is in his blood. His grandfather, uncles, and two elder brothers had not only volunteered, but had won. Plus, it didn’t help that it would likely be his best friend, Wolland, taking his spot. So, she does what any good girlfriend would do - puts on a brave face and pretends to be excited for him. But with reaping day less than twenty-four hours away, the act grows harder to maintain with each tick of the clock.

Eighteen months. Only eighteen months of stolen glances across the training gymnasium, lingering kisses in janitorial closets, scaling across ledges to dormitory windows…

They didnt have to hide it, not technically - more of a precautionary choice if anything. But, Academy leadership did find ways to discourage it - mostly by identifying it as a weakness to be culled. In the eyes of leadership, loving someone meant caring about his or her survival more than one’s own, an Achille’s heel in the Games. And to District Two, death will always mean dishonor. Dishonor to the district, but worst of all, dishonor to the families of the tributes who promised their people glory and wealth. Plus, there is the issue of her father who might just have a heart attack then and there if he finds out his little girl might not be a little girl anymore, especially once he finds out she’s dating a boy two years her senior.

But, love is a fickle thing that is not easily ignored. So in the end, their primal need to love and to be loved won, even with all the programming from the Academy. And instead of trying to shove it behind a locked door, they made the decision to be together, even if it meant keeping it a secret.

Only eighteen months, and so very close to making it. And now, eighteen months quickly slips through her fingers, faster than sand in an hourglass, every effort made suddenly feeling meaningless. Leadership is right - she should have never let herself fall in love. Not with him, at least. Not with the Academy all star..

But, she told herself she wouldn’t dwell on that notion tonight. Taking a large inhale of the warm dry air, Stiorra stares up to the sky where the stars are starting to reach their brightest, imprinting the memory of him - joyful and spirited and wild - into her brain one last time.

Life at the Academy is hard, and would only continue to become harder without his presence there to distract her. Constantly pit against each other, their rankings become their entire personality, dominating everything from their social status to their dorm room. If they are anything but a perfect machine, then they might as well end their life then and there. As a result, graduating classes never top more than twenty graduates despite the hundreds of children the District has to offer as tribute to the Games. And so, they all find themselves relishing in these moments when they could just be teenagers rather than robotic killing machines. Teenagers who deep down are just as afraid of dying as the other Districts. And yet, relishing in the moment is the exact opposite of what she wants to be doing tonight.

“And here I thought you’d be front and center this evening.”

She gazes over towards the source of the sound, her older brother’s voice rousing her from her peace. While her lips still brim with a smile, her eyes speak differently as they cast downwards towards the ground. By the elation clear across his features, she figures he has simply come to jest with her about the party, a habit they formed when they were young children attending Capitol parties with their parents. But, tonight of all nights - she cannot bring herself to join him in his delight.

Her voice is barely a whisper as she makes her confession to one of the few people that can see through her mask and to the only person who might understand her trepidation, “What if he doesn’t come back?”

Young Uhtred places a gentle hand on his sister’s shoulder as he speaks, “I have known Sigtryggr since we were eight years old. And since the first day we entered the Academy, he has ranked first in our class. If his superior melee skills do not win, it will be his brain. He’s outsmarted previous victors and trainers countless times.”

The small squeeze of his hand on her shoulder paired with his words is sweet, but it doesn’t help much. With a drop of his arm, he joins her against the boulder, taking a swig of his beer. Filling her lungs with the dry air again, she straightens her posture, trying to initiate a shift in her demeanor as the feelings of dread and worry continue to fester inside of her, haunting every thought. The darkness once overtaking her eyes fades into a small twinkle as she attempts to pester her older brother hoping a change in subject helps, “Father still giving you the silent treatment after your little display in front of Edward at graduation?”

At graduation, each graduate announces their post-graduation plans - volunteering, joining the Peacekeeper Academy, joining the Weapon Manufacturing Division, or joining the Quarry. Seeing as only two can volunteer, the rest typically make the decision to join the Peacekeeper Academy while one or two decide to join the Weapon Manufacturing Division. But, no one ever chooses to work in the Quarry. Not until her brother.

Young Uhtred rolls his eyes, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “I think we would see an end to these Games before Father ever speaks to me again." She swallows as she watches the agony transfer from her eyes to his, achieving exactly the opposite of what she intended.

With their father serving as President Edward’s Minister of Defense, everyone expected her older brother to proudly declare his intent to enroll in the Peacekeeper Academy. As children of a Capitol representative, it is their duty to model loyalty to Edward and the Capitol, but Young Uhtred might as well have spit in the young President’s face by joining the Quarry instead of his Majesty’s precious army. At least, that’s how their father seemed to see the action.

But, Young Uhtred had not made the choice to be defiant or radical. Not only does her older brother always avert his eyes whenever the next tribute death proves imminent, he also ranked dead last in his class - two facts their father has seemed to overlook entirely. He’s just not meant for the life of a Peacekeeper or to manufacture weapons of mass destruction. In fact, it remains a miracle that the Academy even let him graduate with the remainder of his class earlier in the week. It’s just not who he is, nor who he ever will be.

Seeking the return of his light, she nudges at his shoulder with her own. “You’ll be the best Quarry worker that District Two has ever seen!” She matches his expression as the smile that had been briefly lost begins to return to her brother’s face. “Besides, I already told Father that if he doesn’t start speaking to you by the beginning of the Games, that I’ll drop out of the academy and join you.”

Young Uhtred nearly chokes on his mouthful of beer, snorting at her declaration,“At least he will still have Osbert. That kid terrifies me.”

“I think Osbert will be the first to win the Games in a day,” she says with shutter. Having only been enrolled in the Career Academy for two years, Osbert has already made a name for himself due to his tendency to leave training dummies unrecognizable when practicing his melee skills. And, it definitely doesn’t help that he names them after his classmates. So once he inevitably volunteers in eight years, she’s certain her position as favorite child will be challenged.

“Nope, not even a day. One hour,” Young Uhtred quips, causing the image of her ten-year-old brother, coated in the blood of twenty-three bodies to overtake her imagination. Luckily the sigh her brother takes as he steps away from the boulder frees her, “I’m empty. Do you want anything else?” Stiorra shakes her head. He lingers for another moment, cocking an eyebrow at her, “Do you need anything else?” She shakes her head again.

Her gaze travels past her brother into the distance where she spots Sigtryggr in the middle of an unassisted keg stand. Eyes rake over his half-naked body trying to commit the look of his flexed muscles to memory. Still lingering, Young Uhtred turns, following her gaze to the blue-eyed young man falling into the arms of his brothers. “That is going to be one killer hangover,” he says.

When he looks back at her, she rolls her eyes with a giggle then nods her head in the direction of one of the bar tables sending him on his way. Finishing her beer with one final chug, she keeps her focus locked on his mess of dirty blonde hair as her older brother moves further and further into the crowd until disappearing completely.

Alone again, she fidgets with the label on her bottle, prodding at it with nimble fingers until it comes off cleanly. As she smiles at the perfection of her work, she feels the tears begin to come. A frustrated sigh escapes her lips causing her to viciously tear the small label into pieces in hopes of quelling the emotion. When that does nothing, her hand grips the bottle until her knuckles turn white. She then turns herself towards the scattered sets of rocks and desert behind her. Wielding her arm back as far as her flexibility will allow, she hurls it forward sending the bottle into the night sky where it disappears. The accompanying crackle of glass in the distance acts as her only indication that it has landed. When even that action does not free her, she digs her nails into her palms and inhales deeply trying to regulate her racing heartbeat as her blood pumps loudly in her ears and her chest heaves over and over again. Her teeth dig deep into her lip as she suppresses both the scream and tears that beg release.

Eighteen months. They only had eighteen months together. She wants more. She needs more. Every year. Every day. Every second. Even if he’s the most skilled tribute that District Two has ever laid eyes upon, there are always ringers from other Districts. Hell, even District Twelve got its first victor eight years ago. Besides, it has never been the other tributes that arouse fear inside of her. She has seen the best of tributes be taken down by the Capitol’s muttations, and even worse - starvation and illness. At the end of the day, it is a game of a chance not skill.

Her hands begin to shake as a sob tries to break free, her true emotions slamming at the walls of their prison like a dam ready to burst. Just as she prepares herself for the breech, she hears small rocks tumble behind her. She welcomes the distraction, using it to quell the wild fire raging inside of her.

“Sorry I’ll be pushing a dagger through his heart in a week’s time,” the sound of the small blonde’s voice dripping with acid has Stiorra retracting her earlier sentiment - she would much rather face her pent up emotions than deal with her intruder. Skade has always had a way of leeching herself beneath the girl from Two’s skin. With a roll of her eyes, Stiorra turns to face Skade, finding her perched on top of a large boulder picking at her nail beds, looking up only to offer the raven-haired girl a wicked smile, teeth gleaming in the moon light.

This year’s female volunteer’s smug grin sends waves of heat through Stiorra, igniting the embers beneath her skin. As flames consume her, Stiorra digs her nails into the heels of her palm, teeth clenching together viciously as she inhales slowly, holding the breath for three counts, then releasing it.

More level-headed now, Stiorra manages to snicker back, “I bet he kills you before you even reach the cornucopia.”

Once upon a time, she had considered Skade a close friend, seeing as they basically grew up together with Skade’s father a Sergeant Major in the Peacekeepers. But by the time they were twelve and fourteen, close friends became enemies - first because of the rigorous nature of the Academy and second because of boys. In fact, the small blonde had been the first to insult the brunette when news spread that she was dating Sigtryggr.

Skade’s nostrils flare, eyes like the ocean freezing over. Hopping off the boulder, the snake closes the distance between the two of them in three quick strides. Breath hot on Stiorra’s ear, she whispers viciously, “Maybe I’ll do it in his sleep while his arms are wrapped around me. Those nights sure do get cold and lonely.”

The villainous smile plastered on Skade’s face quickly turns into a scowl as Stiorra erupts into laughter, used to the snake’s attempts to invalidate her relationship. She began dating Sigtryggr when she was fourteen and half, the half having been quite important to her at the time. When rumors spread about the two of them, so did the vitriol with Skade leading from helm of the I-Hate-Stiorra ship. Almost everyone thought the Minister of Defenses’s daughter was too immature for the sixteen-year-old Sigtryggr, so she claimed the half year as if it made a significant difference.

'He’ll leave you once the games begin’ is their favorite. ‘He’s only with you for your father’s status' is hers. But even before she had started dating Sigtryggr, her classmates have tried to use her father’s status to discredit her - a feat also lead by Skade. Little did they know, Edward would sacrifice her entire family without hesitation if it meant maintaining his power.

Eventually, she learned how to wield more than just a few months added to her age against them. A small smile creeps over her lips at the memory of threatening some of their classmates when she had enough of their vitriol. Liv and Dagny had gone pale as a sheet when she taunted them with the threat of poisoning - so easy to slip a couple of drops from the deadliest berry in the country into their morning juice. Both girls avoided all beverages - juice, coffee, tea, even water - for the next few weeks. Then, there was Skade and her posse - much harder to terrorize, but still eventually received the message…once Stiorra threatened to tell everyone about how Skade wet the bed till she was seven, of course.

Skade inevitably changed her tactic - deciding to openly pursue Sigtryggr. One time last year, Sigtryggr received a chest wound during a sparring match. As it was minor, the trainers decided to take the opportunity to turn it into a lesson, showcasing how allies could be of use. Skade waltzed up in front of the entire upperclassmen, volunteering before even asked. Reaching for the gauze, eyes glinting with amusement, she stared Stiorra down as her hands roamed over Sigtryggr’s chest, drawling, “My, my someone hasn’t been missing upper body day.” Then taking one finger, the small blonde dragged it underneath the narrow five inch slash across his upper peck, wiping away the blood that had begun to trickle out, completely ignoring how Siggtryggr’s muscles stiffened and eyes fell shut underneath her touch.

When his eyes reopened moments later, a deep onyx eclipsed the sunny blue as he turned towards the trainers, “Isn’t it better if I do this myself? This won’t be the injury that kills me nor does it require assistance to bandage.” Giggling in triumph as the trainers insisted she continue, Skade took her blood-coated finger into her mouth then licked it clean before finishing the task.

He didn’t let Skade get away with it though - tutting every time she reached for the wrong item, ridiculing her technique, dissecting every choice till the snake was a bright-red fumbling mess. Their classmates chagrin became uncontrollable, laughter bouncing endlessly off the walls, only growing louder as the trainers tried to help the small blonde. But the icing on the cake? Immediately following the demonstration, her boyfriend threw his ruined training shirt at Stiorra with a wink while all the other girls fawned over him. Making his point clear, he would always choose the Minister of Defense’s daughter.

“How many times has he chosen me over you? What was the tally again?” Stiorra snipes back.

Skades spits her next words like venom, “I’ll be sure to bring you back a lock of his hair when he lets his love for you blind him. Maybe I’ll get lucky and your daddy will ask Adhelm to send a particularly vicious muttation designed just for him.”

Flames explode into an inferno as the brunette shoves the blonde with all her strength. Laughter escapes Skade’s throat when she staggers back a few steps, “Is that all you got? I can’t wait to see you die within the first ten minutes in two years.”

The small blonde stalks back towards Stiorra, the malevolence in her gaze taunting. Curling her hand into a fist, the raven-haired girl launches her attack, but a stronger hand catches her wrist stopping it midair.

“Fuck off, Skade. Don’t you have some blood ritual to preform to ensure your victory?” Wolland barks. With a snicker, Skade makes her retreat as Wolland slowly releases Stiorra’s wrist from his grip. He sighs as his voices lowers, replacing the malice with tenderness, “Why do you let her get to you?”

But instead of answering, Stiorra shoves past him, the table littered with bottles containing an assortment of different colored liquids her target. As she reaches her destination, she grabs the closest open bottle of clear liquid. Her nose wrinkles as the fumes sting her orifices. Squeezing her eyes closed, she brings the opening of the bottle to her mouth, leans back and then chugs. Slamming it back onto the table, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand disregarding the burning sensation that radiates from her throat as Wolland marches towards her.

Practically tasting the displeasure and sarcasm on his tongue, he says, “Ah yes, the perfect solution. Shall I offer you some nightlock instead next time?”

Stiorra’s gaze incinerates the back of the small blonde’s head, watching closely as she pushes her way back to the front, wishing she could slip some of the juice from the small dark deadly berry in reference into the snake’s morning tea. Hands curling into fists at her side, she says “She’s going to find a way to cheat, Wolland. I know it.”

“You know the Gamemakers are too smart to allow that to happen,” he says gently, arms crossing over his chest accentuating the muscles of his biceps. If it isn’t Sigtryggr trying to reason with her, it’s his best friend. But, the sorrow in Wolland’s eyes speaks the truth - it’s not the Aldhelm and his fellow Gamemakers who are in control.

“They want a show, Wolland. Besides, all Skade has to do is tell her father that Sigtryggr’s family are conspiring rebels. Next thing we know, his own personal muttation is in the arena.”

Licking his lips, the silence grows heavy between them until he quietly mutters, “I’ll take care of it.”

Stiorra’s gaze softens - she hadn’t meant to drag him into this, not after all the punishments he’d endured with Sigtryggr to help keep their relationship secret. He’d done so much for them over the past year and half already, that it felt unfair for him to rescue them yet again.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. You think I want to see him die either? For all I care, the bitch can rot in hell. You two aren’t her only victims,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“Thanks Wolland,” she whispers. Sure, she hadn’t intended for him to get involved, but he is right - this is bigger than her relationship with this year’s male volunteer. As the flames begin to retreat back into embers, she leans into the table, changing the subject, “When do you enter the Peacekeeper Academy?”

“The day after tomorrow,” he says with a frown.

“Does Hella know?” Stiorra’s voice is soft as she gently probes at the subject. As Stiorra’s best friend, Hella has also gotten looped into preserving the secrecy of her relationship. As a result, Wolland and Hella grew equally close to one another, even sparking their own dating rumors up until recently, when Wolland suddenly found every reason to avoid the girl.

Casting his gaze downwards, Wolland begins to shift his feet, “No.”

“Wolland, you have too. You can’t just leave her.”, she pleads.

Smoke clouds of sand erupt at their feet as he kicks at rocks, “I don’t know how, Stiorra.”

Joining the Peacekeeper Academy hadn’t been the first on Wolland’s list, not after he met Hella at least. He had told her and Sigtryggr that he planned to surprise the blonde after graduation with the news that he would be joining the Weapons Division. But three weeks before graduation around when Wolland started avoiding Hella, Stiorra’s father suddenly asked her about her boyfriend’s best friend, intrigued by his Academy stats. Confronting the tall burly young man, she learned the heartbreaking truth - the Weapons Division was no longer an option for him. Sworn to secrecy, it absolutely gutted the brunette to have to watch her friends suffer. But maybe if she couldn’t have her happy ending with Sigtryggr, maybe her best friend could.

“Tell her tonight. Have one last night with her. All you have to do is tell her the truth. She thinks you don’t feel the same way anymore. And, maybe I can persuade my father to let you be stationed here.” He raises his eyebrows, staring her down. “Okay, maybe I can’t do that but she’ll understand, especially if you tell her about needing the money for your mom’s treatments.”

Wolland sighs as he brushes a hand over his face, “Fine. I’ll do it.” But then, he looks back up at her, eyes blazing as a finger digs into her chest, “But, you need to tell him that you love him.”

Stiorra fights the urge to roll her eyes - of course Wolland knows that she and Sigtryggr still hadn’t exchanged those words, despite how evident their feelings for each other seemed to be. But that was the point - they didn’t need to say the words. Even with all the attempts to discredit their relationships over the years, she has never doubted Sigtryggr’s love for her. Time and time again, he proves it. He is the one who wants to tell her father about their relationship. He, who saw no harm in them being open about it tonight - he’s a graduate now, after all. Better yet he continues to talk of their future even though he plans to volunteer for the 68th Hunger Games tomorrow.

And, she loves him too - more than anything else on this planet, so much so that even just the thought of losing him is enough to make her palms clammy, head dizzy. But saying the actual words… Measly words wouldn’t suddenly change their pre-existing feelings nor would it change their fate.

So she opens her mouth to protest her boyfriend’s best friend’s request, while he holds up his flattened palm signaling her silence, “He needs to hear the words before he leaves.”

But, there’s no point in arguing with that this time, because he’s right - this might be her last chance and when he inevitably dies - at least he knows with certainty that she loves him. So with a groan, she grasps his hand solidifying their deal.

Just as their hands release, Stiorra feels two new ones suddenly slip around her waist, pulling her close. A tender kiss presses into her temple, then a chin rests on her shoulder, carrying the scent of honey swirled with mint, instantly making her smile. “I heard you tried to punch Skade,” he says.

“And, I heard you tried to beat Ivar’s record,” she teases, referencing her boyfriend’s elder brother’s infamous forty-second keg stand record from the night before his reaping almost ten years ago.

A soft laugh tingles her ear, “First, I beat said record by an entire thirty seconds. Second,” - he tickles at her waist coaxing laughter out from deep in her belly as she turns in his arms, releasing her from his torture once they are eye to eye - “I beat it last year. My little charade with the keg tonight was to get out of talking to Skade and her friends.”

Wolland leaves with a roll of his eyes, muttering something under his breath, probably a mocking insult. On most days, she’d throw one right back at him with a teasing glint in her eyes, but the scent of alcohol crashes over her, dulling the honey-mint as it pulls her attention back to her boyfriend. Eyebrows knitting together, she tries to recall if she’s ever seen her boyfriend this inebriated. Before she can find her answer, Sigtryggr leans forward, putting most of his weight onto her causing them to stumble a few steps back as teeth crash together, then catch her lower lip. Clumsy kisses becoming sloppier with each attempt as he pulls her closer, laughter rumbling low in his chest.

“Someone’s a little drunk,” she murmurs as he finally settles for gentle kisses on her nose, cheeks, and forehead. Her hands explore the smooth muscles of his chest, rising slowly until they entwine themselves behind his neck as she makes a mental note to thank whoever rid him of his shirt. Tilting her chin upwards a notch, molten chocolate eyes meet eyes like dancing blue flames.

With a flick of his tongue over his smug grin, his mouth drifts towards her ear, warm breath tickling her and dripping with a velvety coyness as he says lowly, “I may be responsible for this party suddenly becoming dry.” Stiorra lightly swats at the top of his left shoulder - or at least tries, the edge of her hand catching the edge of his shoulder. A small giggle flutters from her lips, as a warm buzz begins to overtake her senses - the aftermath of chugging white liquor finally catching up with her. “Happy Hunger Games, my love.”

Her hand misses his face entirely as she goes to brush the hair out of his face, still giggling as she asks, “Was getting this drunk Rognvaldr’s idea?”

“I could ask you the same question, my love.” She pouts at his non-answer, causing him to run his thumb over her lips. “It was actually Guthfrith’s idea.” Of course, it was his eldest’s brothers idea - his younger brother, Rognvaldr, may be the drunk but Guthfrith has always been the instigator, at least that’s what Sigtryggr always made it seem like. Really, she only knows Rognvaldr as they are in the same year at the Academy. But, she has exchanged a few words with Guthfrith when he’s visited the Academy with other Victors, and as for Ivar - he keeps to himself these days, hardly ever talks with his family anymore. “Something about carpe diem,” Sigtryggr finishes.

With a small nod, she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as she gestures with her eyes to his bare chest, “I see. And the shirt?”

“Rogvaldr. Thinks he can sell it at the market for a high price.”

She resists rolling her eyes, imaging his younger brother at one of the weekend market stalls, spinning tales about the t-shirt. Though, she has to give the imbecile credit - if Sigtryggr wins, he’ll probably get a hefty price for it. Her heart constricts again at the thought of losing her boyfriend, killing the playful mood instantly. Woefully, she strokes a few pieces of his shoulder-length ash-blonde hair, streaked with red from the summer sun, away from his eyes successfully, then breathily whispers, “Don’t let them cut it.” Next to his eyes and smile, it’s one of his best features - wild and untamed just like him.

As her hand recoils, he grabs it, bringing it to his lips to place a gentle kiss upon her palm before placing it back over his heart. “I’ll start the next rebellion if they do,” he teases. At least, one of them has not yet lost their joy. But, he wants to volunteer, just like she wants to in two years…maybe…she isn’t quite sure anymore since meeting him…But, it’s one of the first things they had in common - a ferocious hunger to be the best the Academy had ever seen. So, she tries to find the spark of joy buried deep inside of her again, hoping the fog of the alcohol helps.

Pressing herself up onto her tip toes, slightly swaying, her lips reach for his. Only millimeters a part, a roar of an engine tears them apart. A white vehicle rolls to a sudden stop, five Peacekeepers quickly exiting it. Forming a line, their guns take aim at the crowd.

“Return to your houses immediately,” the middle one roars - sounding eerily like Haesten, the Head Peacekeeper of District 2. He’s typically pretty easy going, letting most law violations slip by unnoticed - unless of course, Edward or other Captiol advisors are around. So if he’s actually doing his job for once, it must mean Aethelflaed, their District's escort and older sister of Edward, must have arrived earlier than expected.

Without a moment of hesitation, the crowd disperses, stampeding past the line held by the Peacekeepers. Sigtryggr tugs Stiorra behind him as they begin to join the crowd in fleet. They run for several minutes at full speed, stumbling occasionally with the alcohol still fresh in their system. Only slowing down once they reach the stone white buildings of downtown. Coming to a full stop with his hand still firmly gripping hers, he peaks around a corner. Her blood hums in her ears, adrenaline mixing with the alcohol in a way that lights her blood on fire. Coast clear, he keeps them moving until they come upon an alleyway.

Abandoned metal scraps, wooden palettes, shattered pottery pieces, and other random misplaced objects lay scatted across the backstreet like a mine field. Creeping around the debris, he releases her hand suddenly, then jumps a top of a nearby dumpster. Then, he jumps again, grabbing the bottom rung of a latter that clatters down after a few tugs. Dusting his hands off of each other, he gestures towards the old rusty fire escape. With a smirk, she glides over to it, beginning their quiet ascent of the eight story building.

A smile lightens her face when they reach the edge of the rooftop, coming upon her favorite spot, now their favorite spot. In a monotone world of white and grey stone, hidden treasures like the rooftop garden are a rarity. Her mother created the oasis when her parents first moved to District Two back when her father was still a low-ranking Peacekeeper. But after catching the eye of the former President Alfred, her father, Uhtred, was quickly promoted prompting their move to the wealthiest area of the District. Knowing the garden meant something to his wife, Uhtred bought the building with his new wealth to ensure it could never be destroyed. But after the death of her mother, Gisela, he abandoned the building, evicted its tenants then left it to rot. It remained this way until the last year when she worked with her older brother to restore it to its former glory.

Landing on the gravel, she closes her eyes, letting the sweet heavenly scent of the garden invade her senses, beginning to clear the fog of alcohol from her system. Wooden paths lead to a larger circular patio at the center of the rooftop. Vases and beds of pink roses in full bloom line the pathway with small fairy lights stringing along the posts. As Stiorra walks slowly towards the center, the lights suddenly flicker on. Waiting with her hand out stretched, Sigtryggr strides back towards her from the voltage box near the fire escape then grasps it firmly. Her head lolls to the side, leaning into his shoulder as they walk towards the center only for the sight ahead of her to make her pause. In place of the intrinsically patterned black iron table and chair set, there is a small makeshift tent instead.

When they agreed to come here after tonight’s party, she pictured only sharing a brief private moment, one last night private goodbye in peace - then they’d separate till the morning, sleeping in their own beds. But, it seems he had his own plans for the evening.

Turning towards him with a glint in her eye, she says, “You know. I’ve seen archives from the old world in my father’s office telling horrific stories of these scenarios - ‘Handsome young man lures naive young woman to her death’.”

A small chuckle reverberates from his chest as he slowly runs a hand over her hair, a smile forming over his lips, “Really? I thought the headline read ‘Handsome young man gets knife to chest after luring young woman to death’”.

Blue eyes enchant her, knees weakening beneath her as his thumb brushes over her cheek then tugs her upward by her chin. Lips meet in the middle, hands skating across his chest to tangle into his hair. Calloused hands slip under her crimson t-shirt as they graze the smooth skin of her stomach, sending shivers down her spine, pooling heat in her belly. A small gasp grants him the opportunity to tease her bottom lip with his tongue, then a low growl escapes his throat as his hands find the hem of her shirt. Slowly, he pulls the material upwards, kisses trailing from her mouth to her jaw, and finally to her neck.

Parting only briefly to toss the shirt to the side, their lips find each other again as he effortlessly pulls her into his arms. Hands cup his face as he approaches the tent, then… she’s lost to the moment, barely able to hear the rumble of patrolling Peacekeeper vehicles as the night starts to feel less like a goodbye, and more like a new beginning…

Falling in love with Sigtryggr Ivarson may have been the biggest mistake she has ever made…. But as their bodies say all the words they can’t, she reckons - it also may have been the best decision she’s ever made.

TAG LIST: @ladyaldhelm @holy3cake @arcielee @kingslionheart @whitedarkmoonflower // If you are tagged it is because you demonstrated interest (?) But happy to remove for future chapter postings! Also zero pressure to read <3

#the last kingdom #tlk fanfic #sigtryggr x stiorra fanfiction #sigtryggr x stiorra #sigtryggr ivarson #stiorra uhtredsdottir #alternate universe #hunger games au #my fics #sigtryggr #stiorra #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #idk what else to tag this but hopefully people find it lol #stay tuned for me posting the playlist!!!#and other shit!!#also doing a pretty header? if I find the time?#honestly i dont know how to post fic on tumblr anymore so hopefully i gave enough info to garter interest

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sigridsdottir · 2 years ago

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💌 sigridsdottir's masterlist

Ubbe Ragnarsson

A golden kiss

I am here now

Reflecting, on him and I

🫶🏻 character playlists

'coccham' TLK-inspired

Finan

Sihtric

Ubbe

#masterlist #mywork

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solinarimoon · 2 years ago

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This may be more about me than you, but for me you represent a connection to TLK and all the time we want to spend with those men, so:

Bloom by The Paper Kites.

It's the song that drifts through my mind everytime you cross my dash. 😘

Oh sweet and lovely Anon ~

Thank you! I wasn’t aware of this song before but I’ve now added it to my Cwen and Sihtric playlist on Spotify bc it fits perfectly and it is so gentle and sweet! I have a very eclectic music taste but folk/indie often fits my mood and aesthetic and you picked an excellent one!

Thank you again! It’s been a rough couple of days for me and this sweet little message gave me a smile 🧡

#thank you anon #answered #the last kingdom #sihtric #fields of wildflowers #sihtric x cwen #Sihtric x oc

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paula-in-dreamland · 2 days ago

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^^ Yeah that !!! Hyperfixation helps A LOT.

But when it starts to end…. well….This past year, Ive actively had to tell myself “You need to see this through. You will be so happy that you did in the end.” And then somehow - I wrote an 100k+ story. That I am ACTUALLY editing, editing which is actually feeding my brain SO MUCH more dopamine because not only is it finished - but the editing process is making it THAT MUCH stronger and cohesive as hard as it was to delay posting till I was in the editing stage.

Other ways Ive kept the hyperfixation? Kept active in the fandom. Continued to seek out the content that kept that daydream / fic idea alive in my head. For example, I have a “TLK” inspo playlist that is like 300+ songs I have tied certain scenes in my fic ideas that has helped keep them alive in my brain so that I WANT to get them out.

But yeah. Its hard. An uphill battle. And its okay to get distracted while writing! Thats normal! You might not just be completely in a mindset to write too! Or need a break bc your brain is stumped!!! Its okay if it takes a long time to write!!!

TLDR; Find what keeps the hyperfixation/ideas alive. Lean into your writing when it comes, don’t stress too hard when it doesnt. Take your time. And for those pesky moments when you have an idea but cant get to your computer? Jot it down anyways. On your phone. Tablet. Piece of paper. Voice note. Anything, really.

How do ppl with ADHD write fanfiction/books, cause I be writing with a commitment of a saved dog to his owner and then like second later I'm googling stuff like "what is a lifespan of a fly?" out of nowhere

That's literally the reason WHY I write everything so long

#writing stuff #fic stuff

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peaky-shelby · 2 years ago

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NEW ROMANTICS | MBAPPÉ [10]

» 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 10: we need love

» writers note: this chapter turned out differently from what I envisioned but the heart of it is the same, so enjoy, sink with them and I'll meet you on the other side

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She didn’t sleep. Maybe it was because of the way her body would react to his breath and his touch. Maybe it was guilt for her actions or maybe it was disappointment. Maybe all of those things combined kept her up at night but every time his hand reached for her exposed skin, the last two would fade away. Regret and guilt would be replaced by the need for more and so when he’d move even a bit away from her, those feelings would grow again. Like fire in the rain, that grew and lit off repeatedly. Caught in between a need and a sin.

She’d check the time, numerous times during the night. It was at 5am that she found the strength to roll away from his hold. She didn’t want to be in this room when the sun took it’s place on the sky, that would make it all too real for her. She changed into her clothes, somehow even as a shirt, he fit perfectly around her. She was cursed to have him on her back, whether it was metaphorical or literal. It didn’t take long before she saw his figure getting up, his hands pulling her back on his chest. She looked in the mirror, seeing clearly for the first time the crime she had committed. Why did she like it?

She was scared that if she said anything, she’d ruin it. They’d fight and they’d hurt each other. So she said nothing, she kissed him. One last taste of her favorite drug and she left his room like a thief. She almost made it to her room but as she made a turn on the hallway, she heard an odd laughter coming and she was met with an even odder sight. Neymar, On the floor, pale and half asleep with a very joyful Verratti by his side.

She approached them slowly, pulling down her hoodie. Neymar looked like death, while Verratti was laughing like a teenage boy.

“What’s going on here?”

Neymar moved a little in the sound of her voice. Verratti’s eyes beamed with excitement, his finger pointing at her. “IT’S MISS COACH!”

Taylor looked at Neymar, who seemed to be regretting all his life choices, she knelt beside him “ney?” she tried but he wasn’t really responding. Just humming. Verratti started pulling on her arm to get up but she wasn’t strong enough to hold both and she was more worried for Ney. He was completely out of it. She reached in her pocket for her phone and called Kylian.

“Miss me already—”

“I need help. Now. Neymar’s room.”

Kylian hanged up and went to find her. A few minutes later he was by her side. They gave each other a knowing look and he tried to get Verratti up while Taylor searched Neymar’s pockets for his key card. She found it and used it to open the door. Neymar, whose back was laid on the door fell backwards “SHIT” She yelled and bowed down to keep his head from hitting on the floor. She put his one arm around his neck and tried to get him up with all the strength she had. Kylian had already laid Verratti on the couch so he came to help her. They put him on his bed, taylor even tucked him under the covers while Kylian was taking of his shoes. She looked around the room, found a big bowl with pop corn next to the TV. She threw the pop corn on the garbage and left the bowl on the floor by his side. She Helped him lay on his side.

“when you throw up do it on the bowl. Last thing we need is for the maid telling stories of cleaning your puke.”

“I was mean to you.” Said Verratti from the other corner, lazily pointing at her. Kylian went back to him.

“What the ‘ell happened?” he asked, giving him a light slap.

“hey we were just drinking man! By the way don’t worry about the issue, I spoke with Ann—” Kylian stepped on his foot. Verratti screamed in pain. She looked at them for a moment before her eyes returned back to Neymar.

“Ney, are you sick?”

He nodded “JW gonna write about this, hm?” he poked her nose. His eyes half open. She took hold of his hand.

“JW won’t be writing about anything for a while.”

“I missed the penalty.”

She shook her head “is that why you’re like this?”

Neymar didn’t get to answer, his expression changed completely as he leaned forward, ready to puke. She lifted the bowl up to him, helped him hold it while his system was letting go of everything he had drank that night. She was looking away the whole time, her eyes finding Kylian’s. He rushed to her, replacing her hands on the bowl with his own.

“You don’t need to be here for this. Go to bed.” He said. But she refused. When Neymar was done she went and threw the puke on the toilet, flushing it down. Kylian joined her there. Taking the bowl from her hands again. “ill take care of them! Go!”

“Kylian, I got this. I just needed you to help me carry them.”

“This is not the first time one of us is cleaning each other’s shit. Junior has done the same for me, so has Marcus.”

“Taylor!” that was Neymar calling. She rushed back to his bed. Ignoring Kylian completely. When she knelt by his side again, he looked at her like a puppy “im sorry.” He mumbled. She wanted to cry just by seeing the pain in his eyes.

“It was just a penalty Ney. It doesn’t define you. Messi has missed lots, he is still the goat.”

“Why are you two together?” asked Verratti suddenly. Referring to Kylian and Taylor.

Kylian looked threateningly at him “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” he asked but it was more of a threat. Taylor on the other hand just kept her eyes on Neymar. Stroking his back. He started drifting of the way drunk people do. She could hear Kylian and Verratti bickering behind her.

“People are writing articles about you, you know!” said Verratti. That’s when she finally looked at him, narrowing her eyes.

“what articles?”

“Dunno.” He mumbled, getting more comfortable on the chair. “m sorry I was mean to you. I’ll make it up.”

She scoffed and returned her attention back to Ney. He looked like a kid. Kylian knelt behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“ill stay here, go to your room.” He whispered and she twisted her head to look at him. Their faces so close to each other. He gave her a comforting smile. He squished her shoulder, holding himself back from kissing her head. “he’ll be fine. Promise.” She very subtly leaned back on him, both of them giving what little they could give to each other without being too obvious. His lips brushed on her hair. He helped her stand up and showed her to the door. She lingered there for a while, her eyes darting between Verratti and Neymar. They were both asleep now.

“Call me if anything happens.”

“I will.”

“make sure he doesn’t choke on his puke.”

“yes Ma’am”

She tried to look at Neymar again behind Kylian but he stepped in front her, blocking her view. He looked down her and then looked at the door, motioning for her to leave. She nodded, Kylian brushed his fingers with her before she turned around and left them alone in the room. Kylian rubbed his face with both hands and went to check on Neymar, who had started coughing again.

He tapped on his shoulder “you ok man?”

He nodded. Opened his eyes. Kylian got up, but his entire body froze when he heard him speak again “don’t fuck with her” he mumbled, His face half molded on the pillow. Kylian looked at him. Even in his state, his sentence came out as a terrifying warning. He didn’t continue the conversation. He laid on the other side of the bed, his head laying back on the wall. A heavy breath leaving his nose. Making a mental note in his head to talk with Verratti in the morning about the articles.

AIRPLANE – NEXT DAY

They tried to avoid each other as much as they could in the airport, usually caught up in conversations in different and separate groups. Taylor had her eye on Neymar the whole time, he’d barely look at her. When they got on the plane, Taylor went to put her handbag on the cupboard over her seat, suddenly she felt Kylian’s front on her back. His hands reaching for hers, as he helped her place her bag there. He gave her a little unnecessary push with his front on her ass, bringing them closer together, and let out an unnecessary breath on her hair. Meanwhile his fingers lingered a little too long on hers.

“thanks” she whispered.

“no problem.” He said and moved away from her. She took the seat next to the window, watching as the team members walking in the small hallway. She put up her head when she saw Ney and called for him.

“sit with me!”

Neymar seemed hesitant at first but sat next to her, getting comfortable. There was an awkward silence between them. She started tapping her leg on the ground, making sounds with her mouth to fill it.

“rough night?” she asked.

Neymar snorted, looking down like a guilty kid. She smiled and nudged him on the shoulder. “are you embarrassed of me?” she asked. He shrugged his shoulders. “Junior, come on! You know how many times Trish had to drag me home after drinks?”

He looked at her, raising his eyebrows “zero?”

She opened her mouth to seem offended. But closed it again because there were really not that many times. She looked away. “ok fine maybe not that many.” He laughed, laying his head back. “but that’s not the point.” She returned her gaze to him “I may be your Coach but I’m also your friend. You’re allowed to be drunk around me. I’m not Galtier. And… you know… the reason you decided to drink. It’s not worth it.”

He scratched on his nails. “it’d be a good article. Neymar jr. Fails again.”

“Don’t do that to yourself please.”

“What would JW say? Would he celebrate the win?”

She laughed, leaning on the window “I’m sure he’d find some things to complain about. A team much below yours got 4 chances and scored. We could have ended this match 5-0. We still lack connection and yes, we were good but only cause they were weaker. So, what are we really celebrating? There’s still a lot of work to be done.”

Neymar smiled. “there she is.”

“point is the blame isn’t yours Ney.” She made sure to look in his eyes while she spoke “a penalty is a 50% chance. Anyone can miss and anyone can do it depending on the circumstances. Losing penalties is the least of this team’s problems. You and Kylian worked pretty well Together.”

He nodded. There was something else on the tip of his tongue, she could see it.

“You two are getting better along too, aren’t you?”

She nodded, keeping a straight face “yeah. He’s more cooperative now.”

All he did was smile and put his headphones over his head. Somehow she knew exactly what he was thinking but pretended not to.

Taylor got up in the middle of the flight to go to the bathroom. Her eyes met Kylian’s as she walked passed him and behind the curtain that led to the bathroom. There was a small space people could wait in case there was someone else inside. The lock was green, so she opened the door and went inside. She bowed in front of the sink, threw water on her face.

He started cracking his knuckles. Contemplating whether he should go behind her. Everyone seemed to be occupied with other things. Hakimi was watching a movie next to him, most of the others were as well. He stood up and went to find her. If anything, he loved seeing her trying to hide his affect on her in front of everyone else. He waited for her on the small space, hiding his figure behind the curtain and hoping no one would come along before she was done. And done she was, a few minutes later, her eyes widening when she saw him in front of her as she opened the door. “hi” he smiled. His body blocking the exit by the way he was laying on the door. She looked at him up and down, tried to squeeze passed him but he kept moving his body in the same direction as her. Two times was enough to annoy her.

“not the time.” She warned.

“don’t worry. Wasn’t gonna fuck you on the sink.”

She scoffed, pushing him on the chest to make space for her to leave. He stood in front of her again. Leaning his head down, she locked eyes with him, only until his gaze diverted to the level of her lips, licking his own.

“Come sit next to me.”

“are you crazy?”

“I’ll get Hakimi to sit with Ney.”

“No!” she said quickly. Then she looked away from him, tapping her foot on the floor “I think Ney knows. I don’t know how much or how but he has started picking up on things. I shouldn’t have called you last night.”

“if you didn’t, we’d have a story on our heads about a drunk Verratti and Neymar on the hotel hallways.”

“Better than assistant coach fucks star player—” there was a turbulence, causing her to fall flat on his chest. He gripped on her arms, to keep her straight and leaned harder on the doorframe to keep them both up. She let out a shaky breath, her fingers cycling around his arms, able to feel his veins, same way she had last night. He made a step forward, pushing her deeper in the bathroom, leaning in to kiss her. Their lips ghosted over each other’s, an invisible string pulling them closer together. One of his hands dropped to her hip, she could feel his touch too well over her skinny leggings.

“Star player knew exactly what he was getting himself into. It’s fine.” He whispered in her lips.

“I was talking about Neymar.” She said, keeping a straight face. But she broke into silent laughter when she saw his eyes darkening, his expression stiffening. She grinned, slapping his hand off her ass. Her shoulder bumped on his as she finally walked passed him. Proud of herself for his reaction. He bit on his tongue, twisting it in between his lips.

She went back to her seat, but the one next to her was empty. She searched around for Neymar. Found him to Hakimi’s side. Deep conversation with him, Messi and Ramos who were sitting on the seats behind them. Neymar was sitting his knees on the chair, facing Messi. He waved at her “ill be back in a sec” he said. Taylor thought she had gone numb. She didn’t respond. She just went and sat in her seat, searched out of the window for a way out. Sitting on the wing seemed like a better choice now. She took her blanket and covered herself with it. Laid back and closed her eyes. Maybe if he thought she was sleeping, Kylian wouldn’t annoy her. She heard him seat beside her, even chuckling but she didn’t move and he didn’t speak which was good. For a moment she thought he’d actually let her be. Be decent for ones.

Then her entire body shivered. Her eyes opening wide. Her breath getting hatched on her throat. His fingers crawled on her thigh. His hand hidden under the blankets that they had very comfortably lay over them. She didn’t look at him, she couldn’t even blink. She was scared that any reaction would lead to dangerous sounds coming out of her mouth. She didn’t have to look at him to know that he had that smug expression on his face. He didn’t stop of course. His hand continued going higher and higher, pinching on her skin a few times, stroking it others. She liked it. When it got too close she dropped her hands where his was but over the blanket. She looked at him. He was looking on his phone, unbothered, like there was actually zero connection between the two at that moment.

“are you out of your mind?” she hissed. He didn’t respond. But his hand moved down, closer to her knee now. He gave it squeeze, it felt more caring than his last touches but she knew he must be laughing on the inside. He slipped his fingers under her knee, holding her like any boyfriend would hold his girlfriend in the drive home. He finally looked at her, an discreet smile on his lips. Her phone buzzed a few seconds later and she turned it over to look at the screen. A message from him.

She shook her head, scoffing. Closed her phone screen and ignored the message. He squeezed tighter on her thigh. She closed her eyes, trying to fight the urge to hold his hand under the blanket. Truth is she liked it, and as long as his hands remained on safe distance from other parts of her body, then she didn’t want him to let go. He was counting on that. She put her hand under the blanket searched for his while looking at the clouds outside the window. When she found it, she let her fingers wrap around his. He accepted it, too quickly, turning his hand, so he’d hold her better. No one knew. No one could see. But he was drawing circles with his thumb on her palm and she was enjoying it.

The reached Paris in the afternoon. Everyone had a different car waiting for them to drive them home. Before Taylor got into hers, Galtier came up to her.

“We need to talk.”

She hesitated “everything ok sir?”

“Come by my office tomorrow morning. 10 am.”

Logically speaking there was no reason for him to know and there was no reason for her to he worried. But she was terrified. “Is it about the match against Pays De Cassel?”

“Not really. But we’ll discuss that as well. I’ll wait for you.”

She nodded as he left to go to his car. She watched him leave, her eyes falling on Kylian among everyone else. She smiled at him and got in her car. They drove her to the animal-sitting center she had left Luna at first. God, was she happy to see that little angel. Luna head bummed her on the hand when she went to pet her the first time, get warmth reminding her of the only thing that felt like home in this city. She took the cat back to her house, the driver helping her carry all her stuff before leaving her alone in the small apartment. Luna ran across the familiar floors, jumping on the desk and the bed, making herself comfortable on the pillows. She laid beside her, telling herself that she’d take care of the suitcases in the morning. She petted Luna with her finger, Luna in response started biting it and scratching it playfully. She smiled.

When she looked at her phone she was met with Kylian’s message again. She hadn’t deleted the notification so it was still there. The invite was still open. She was tempted. Tempted to feel his Temperature on her body, on her mouth, on her… she closed her eyes.

Kylian unpacked all his stuff. He had nothing better to do anyway. When he was done he dropped himself on the couch, hand hanging over his head as he laid back. He thought about texting her again or calling her but he didn’t want to push it. He was scared that any wrong move would bring the paper house they had started building, down. He doubted she was going to come to him, so he was prepared to go to sleep alone.

Then his phone buzzed. Her name popping on the screen. He picked it up, looking up at the ceiling, while answering.

“Can I help you, coach?” No answer. He smiled “just calling to hear my voice hm?”

Another moment of silence.

“Galtier wants to talk to me tomorrow.” He could hear the worry in her voice, even from the phone.

“Its probably nothing.” He tried to reassure her.

“Hm…”

He wished he could find the right words. He wished he could be by her side.

“Come here.” He whispered lazily on the phone. Too lazy to plead and also half knowing he doesn’t have to. His invitation not at all suggestive. If anything it came out as a solution to whatever was worrying her.

“can’t.” She whispered back “need to stay with my child.”

He smiled knowing it was just an excuse. “bring her with you.”

Silence.

“that’s too much work, just to see you.”

“I can come”

Taylor was on her bed, laying, same way he was. She bit on her thumb, his suggestion sinking in. Maybe if she kept allowing him taking the initiatives, she could pretend there was nothing she could do about it. Maybe if he came over to her, she wouldn’t really be doing anything wrong.

“been running out of cat food actually.” She said innocently. Heard him laughing on the other side

“Can’t go out walking in this cold.” He said.

“no.” she hummed. But it was more of a yes.

Taylor kept typing and erasing the same message that said that she had changed her mind. She did it about 10 times, until it was too late to send it because she heard him knocking on the door. Sitting on the edge of the door, she looked at her door. Her body frozen in her position. Another knock and she knew she didn’t have a lot of choices. She left her phone on the bed and made her way to the entrance of her apartment. A heavy breath leaving her chest as she opened the door. A tired Kylian, leaning on the frame with his arm while holding a full bag of cat food on his hands. She laughed, it seemed like the only right response because they were tragically funny. He smiled, looking down at her. She met his eyes with anticipation. Suddenly all her worries replaced by his perfume, by his whole demeanor and his presence. A light opened in the hallway alarming them that someone was coming up the stairs. She snatched on the threads of his grey hoodie, pulling him in her house and pushing the door closed. They both stumbled on their owns steps, only stopping when taylor, crashed on her desk, his head falling closer to hers and all she could look at was his lips.

“Such a small apartment.” He mumbled, grinning.

“Shut up” she shot back, realizing she was still holding on the threads. She pulled him down, her lips crashing on his, he dropped the bag, letting it crash on the floor. Didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, deepen the kiss. Hold her hips to pull her closer and she could feel him in between her thighs. Her hands crawled under his hoodie, taking it off and throwing it, somewhere in the room. Then they crawled under his shirt, coming in contact with his skin. He hissed at the coldness of her hands, biting on her lips. Both of them realizing that they should probably take a breath. They looked in each others eyes, heavy breaths and knowing stares. He smiled, cause he had never seen her like this before. His fingers traced on her skin under her shirt. His bottom lip hooking on hers and pulling it upwards. Then kissing the area under her eye, then her nose. Her hands moving up to his arms, stroking his veins, his biceps, like she was making a memory of how he felt. His lips went down to hers again, this time kissing her softer. It was gentler. it was more honest than any kiss he had given her before. His touch changed. Any other time he would have picked her up, thrown her on the bed and hovered over her.

Tonight, was different, she could feel it. He wanted to take his time, so did she. He held her more carefully, he didn’t rush it. She stood still while he was taking control, giving in to him as he pulled the shirt over her head, only thing she had to do was raise her hands, bring them on his shoulders when he was done. He lowered his head to her neck, the spot he knew would make her, his for the night. And surely when he kissed on it, she let out a moan, a beg for more. He made a few steps backwards, taking her with him and sat on the bed, while she stood in between his legs.

He kissed her stomach, she felt his tongue on her skin, his teeth almost biting her on the same spot. His kisses continued on a straight line. While his hands pulled her skinny leggings off, he pushed her hips to him and she sat on his lap, legs and hands tying around him. Her breast on the most comfortable level for him to leave kisses now. Under and over her bra, on her collar bone. Her head dropping back, as she accepted all of his gifts for the night. She leaned forward, his knee scraping the space in between her thighs. Her hands, held his entire face, she pulled her head up again, looking in his eyes and leaning her forehead on his. He pushed her hair behind her ear, his hands holding on her face the same way she was holding on to him. Their noses touching, their breaths synchronized.

She pulled off his shirt, threw it on the floor behind her and moved closer to his know bare chest. Her hands circling around his shoulders and her head bending, hugging him as tight as she could, to feel every single curve in his body against hers. To feel his heartbeat. His fingertips, caressed her spine, moving up and down her bone while his mouth made a home in her neck and shoulder. She tilted her head to kiss the back of his neck. It seemed this night, this moment could last forever. She hoped it would. Hoped she could stay down this rabbit hole with him for the rest of her life.

When he laid her on the bed, she started playing with the chain round his neck. His eyes staring deep in hers, while her other hand reached for the threads of his sweatpants, untangling them.

And the night burned warmer, their bodies getting as close as humanly possible. When they were done, they gazed at each other’s eyes for what felt like hours. His fingers getting tangled in her hair, hers tangled in his chain. She never minded being on her own but this… this felt nice too.

He woke up by her voice, speaking words in a language that sounded like French but could swear wasn’t French by her accent. Her voice was followed by a ticking sound. He opened his eyes, the sunlight cutting through his eyes.

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I SAID!” She yelled from inside the bathroom. He raised an eyebrow, confused. He got up, putting on his sweatpants and walking over to the bathroom door. He could listen more clearly now and yes she was actually trying to speak his language. Random words, speaking them to her phone. He opened the door, to find her sitting cross-legged on the cap of the toilet. He shit his mouth in a thin line so he wouldn’t laugh.

“une table pour deux personnes, s’il vous plait” she said in the microphone.

“Wanna get me out on a date?”

She jumped up on her feet, her phone almost dropping from her hands. “stop doing that—”

He grinned, pushed himself off the door and walked over to her. “tell me in French and I might.” He shrugged, approaching her in a threatening way. His hands snaking around her back, she was already dressed and ready to leave.

“je…”

“hm?” he prompted. How did her murdering his mother tongue sound so blissful in his ears.

“Je veux tu—”

“moi?” he asked, pointing at himself and pretending to be surprised.

She narrowed her eyes “oui?”

He smiled, leaning down to her lips. “Que veux-tu de moi, Taylor?”

She snorted, already confused by his accent but she played along “stop. Je veux tu… stop?”

He laughed, she blushed, her fists bumping on his chest. He kissed the embarrassment away. “La nuit dernière était incroyable.” He whispered in her lips “On devrait le refaire. Un peu plus souvent.” She pushed him away.

“You’re doing it again.” She reminded him, a little annoyed.

He smiled “do you want me to drive you at campus?”

“Hilarious. I’m getting an uber.” She walked passed him, out of the bathroom. He watched her and mirrored her.

“I used to drive you before this was a thing.” When he stepped out of the bathroom, Luna jumped on his sweatpants, trying to catch the threads. He hissed when claws cut through the fabric on his skin and knelt down to pet her.

“You have to go back to your house and change.” She looked at the desk for her keys. “catch” she said and threw them at him. He caught them before they hit his face. “lock the door before you leave. Bring me the keys back at campus.��

“because that’s not at all suspicious”

“Is it too optimistic of me to think that you won’t do it in front of everyone else?” she walked to her bed, checking that she had everything on her bag.

He smiled, getting up and coming up behind her. “You’re anxious.” He whispered.

“I don’t wanna be late!” she said, slapping his hands off her and hanging her bag around her shoulder. She turned around to look at him.

“Are you always rushing out like this after sex or is it just because of me?”

“im not rushing.”

“Yeah you are. You rushed out in the hotel. You’re rushing out now because your appointment is not for Another 2 hours.”

“I don’t wanna be late.” She repeated.

“You’re always late.” He reminded her, looking in her eyes. She gulped. Funny, how he could see right through her in the morning. He leaned in, about to kiss her under the morning light, when there was no darkness to hide, when everything was true. Her fingers trailed on his abs, she pulled away quickly, looking up at him.

“Lock the doors.” She whispered in his lips “feed the cat. Make sure no one sees you leave and be at campus at 11 sharp.”

“Or what?”

“ill figure out a punishment.” She smiled and slipped away from him. He bit on his tongue when he heard the door close. It was followed by a meow, the little kitten in between his feet, begging for food. She scratched on his legs again, making him kneel down.

“You scratch as deep as your mother.” He mumbled, petting her under her neck.

GALTIER’S OFFICE — DAY

Taylor waited outside. Her feet tapping on the floor until Galtier’s tall figure appeared in the hallway. She got up, greeting him quickly and he motioned for her to get in his office.

They say on their usual positions. An intimidating Galtier on his big chair behind the desk and an anxious Taylor on her tiny chair across from him.

“the win against Al Nssr was good. It seems things have started to work out.”

“I hope so.”

“The boys seem to get used to you.”

“Most of them, yes.”

“we need to talk about your salary.” She didn’t answer to that. Nothing seemed appropriate enough. “If you decide to stay.” Her eyes remained expressionless. Keeping any sort of emotion for herself. “PSG would be happy to keep you around.”

That was it. What she had been waiting to hear. To be one of the coaches or an analyst. Whatever position they decided to give her. She had made it through. It seemed almost like a lie. Too good to be true and yet, it felt like a theft too.

He passed over to her a document with her monthly salary, details of her hiring and her position. She could barely follow him. She was lost in her thoughts. The pros and cons. She had her ticket back in the game. But was she really in the game? There was this tickling sensation in her stomach. Happiness and fear mixed in one. Was the decision hers now?

“We can sign the contracts by the end of the week. I’ll need some time to speak with the big boss.” She looked at the document. There was a number on it, a long number with high digits… that couldn’t be hers. She’d never see that amount of money with her writings, not even if she worked on the highest paid sports magazine “Meanwhile you can think about it, run it over with your lawyers if you want.”

She nodded, taking the document in her hands “thank you.” She smiled, keeping in all the excitement, she had. Galtier smiled back at her and she took it as an indication to leave. Her steps, slow on the hallway. She checked at her watch, 10:30, it was. Kylian would be here soon.

“Excuse me, Ms. Wilock?”

She turned around, a woman, seemingly older than her. Long blonde hair and dressed like she had somewhere important to be. She was a journalist. Taylor knew by the way the woman held a notepad in her hand. She felt caught between two worlds. Who she used to be and who she could be.

“You are Ms. Wilock, right?”

“Yes. That would be me.”

“I’m Annette.” She shook her hand “I was wondering if I could ask you some quick questions.”

“About what?”

“How are you adapting on the team? With the boys?”

She smiled “There’s respect from both sides.”

“As it should. But I heard there was chaos in the beginning, between you and the players. And of course, there’s the question of your website that brought a lot of pain on this team and other teams as well. Are you ever getting back to that? With champions league coming up, are you loyal to Paris-Saint German? Is it worth everything you are giving up?” Annette smiled. Taylor was at a loss of words, she didn’t know what to answer first.

“I don’t have time for a one on one interview.” She said “Gotta get down at training but I bet I’ll see you around, won’t I?”

“From one journalist to another, Ms. Wilock. You know you will.”

Taylor stepped away, gripping on the document in her hand.

Kylian never gave her back the keys that day. She only realized when she went back to her house and searched her pockets. During the day, they exchanged a few words and mainly it was her yelling at him to stop playing around and laughing. Kylian would shoot her a knowing look, only her could translate and they’d go back to business. She had a meeting with Marquinhos, making several attempts to ignore the chaos in her mind.

“Is it odd that I’m having doubts?”

“No. Of course not. It’s a huge change. One month was a short time. Now we are talking about permanent.”

“Permanent is long.” She sighed.

“No matter what happens you should be happy and proud of yourself.” He said, shooting her a smile and getting up to leave.

All she wanted to do was go home and write. That always calmed her. So when she realized her keys were missing, she wanted to hit her head against a wall. She didn’t even think about calling him, she just grabbed an uber and went to his house. She stood outside, hands in her pockets. There were doormen outside of the building. That’s how you knew important people were living there. She couldn’t just walk in, she was scared they’d recognize her. So she called him.

“I was wondering when you’d notice.” He said as soon as he picked up.

“I’m downstairs. Can I come in from the garage?”

Silence, then a scoff. “Sure, go around the building, I’m coming.”

She hanged up and did as she was told. The garage doors opened and his figure appeared behind them. She walked closer, holding her hand out, waiting for him to give her the keys.

“Oh shoot.” He said “left them upstairs.”

She cocked her head, annoyed “are you fucking serious?”

He smiled. She groaned and walked past him to the elevator. He followed behind her.

A couple snarky comments, unnecessary touches and a few minutes later they were on his bed. Wrinkled sheets and their bodies tangled like one because she couldn’t control herself around him. Not when she felt his touch on her body, not when he gave her that devilish grin and leaned down so slowly, that only made her want him to go faster. Because when he did all these things, she’d forget even her own name, her past, her doubts, her injuries.

Their routine didn’t change. After sex, they were silent, just like all the times before, words couldn’t explain why or how they ever got in this situation but she was in his space now. He had control.

She tapped on the space between his breast, her fingers making a walk up to his neck. The neck that she had left her kisses on, her smell, her touch.

“what did Galtier want with you today?”

“I’m hungry.” She said suddenly, completely ignoring he inquiry. Kylian narrowed his eyes, confused but she was out of his arms and dressed in his grey long hoodie before he could stop her. He rushed out of the bed, putting his pants on and chasing behind her on the kitchen. She was inspecting the fridge already, taking out things she needed. She’d let out gasps whenever she found somethings she could use. He watched as she laid out the ingredients on the counter. “can you get me a recipe for carbonara?” He was baffled by her. The way she moved around like she had been on his place more times than ones. Like she lived there. He looked around for his phone, finding hers first on the counter where she left it after he picked her up to take her to the bedroom. He opened the screen, a pretty picture of her, a little girl-which he imagined was her sister- and her father.

“what’s your passcode?”

“I’m not gonna tell you my passcode.” She said, while bending down to get a pan from the lower cupboards.

“Is it 1 2 3 4 5 6?” he asked, while typing it out. The phone opened to his surprise and he started laughing. She stood up, chewing on the inside of her cheek but saying nothing. “god that’s dumb.” He mumbled and she really wanted to hit him with the pan in that moment.

“Find the recipe!” she said.

“you need milk for carbonara!” he commented, googling searching for it.

“No you don’t.” she shot back and looking at him.

“That’s how I like it—”

“my god! You really suck at following orders! Don’t you?” she snatched the phone from him and placed it on the counter, looking at the recipe he had found. “it literally says, no milk!” she looked back at him “all this time I thought it was just me but god you really suck a following orders, don’t you?” she asked but he waved her off, opening the fridge, the light filling the otherwise cozy darkness. He grabbed a water bottle and closed it again.

“Do you always cook in darkness after sex?”

She didn’t answer him, just made one of her silly face and started cooking according to the recipe. He jumped on the counter of the kitchen, sitting there as she cooked. He smiled, because there was something very calming about seeing her in his space like that. He took a sip from his bottle, his eyes following her every single movement.

Kylian made sure to point out hoe he’d like for her to not burn his kitchen more than ones and taylor ignored him every time. He got of the counter when she asked him to get plates, he left them right next to her, his hand ghosting on the small of her back while she was stirring the pasta.

“I still think it needs milk.”

“I still think you are an arrogant asshole but I don’t make a big deal out of it every five seconds!”

He lowered his head to her neck, taking a big bite on her skin while she laughed and shook him away, elbowing him slightly so he’d get back.

They sat on the kitchen top, across from each other. Talking about everything and nothing, while they ate. The night would grow longer, their figures would move like shadows, tiny secrets that no one ever had to know about.

“My father always blamed himself. I got the condition from him, so he was convinced it was his fault when I had to give it up. Truth is, he did everything right.” She smiled “wouldn’t have want to spend the worst years of my life with anybody else.” She opened her phone, pointing at a picture of little Lily. “She’s my little monkey.” She said, her entire face beamed when she was talking about her, so many of her walls crumbling before him.

“is she as loud as you?”

“she’s louder.” She laughed “but that’s why I love her.”

“you miss them?”

“’f course I do.” There was bitter sweetness in her eyes now, the smile lingering in her lips but falling just a little. That melancholic look reminded him of his first question of the night.

“Gonna tell me what Galtier said?” The smile faded away completely. She shut her phone off, staring at the table. “it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“it wasn’t…” she admitted “it wasn’t bad at all.”

“Then?”

She looked at him “he wants to finalize my employment.”

“wasn’t that already settled?”

“Not really. I was given a month as a test run. If it wasn’t for the articles that leaked, psg wouldn’t have told the world until they were certain.”

He nodded, looking at his plate, playing with the last bit of pasta that was left there “and now its certain?”

Dawn wouldn’t come for hours yet in matters of the sky, but it was slowly creeping up on them both in matters of their future.

“yeah.” She whispered. The feeling of guilt had already began fueling in her chest, just like all the times before. Any normal people would talk, clear things out before it was too late.

“that’s good.” He smiled, looking up at her again.

Cause they weren’t normal people and this wasn’t a normal situation. The longer they spent not talking about it, the longer they could pretend it was alright. Whatever ‘it’ was.

She tried to leave right after they finished their food. She wanted to go home, breakaway from him as soon as possible but he was leading her to the bathroom before she could protest. And how could she protest when his aroma dripped from every corner of the bathroom, when he helped her in the tub and she laid on his chest, both of them naked and bare.

She played with his fingers absentmindedly while he marveled at the size difference of their hands.

“you were right” she whispered

“about what?”

“the rushing out part.” He brushed his nose on her hair. “I’m afraid if the sun finds us together. Like this. I’ll have to explain myself and I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything.”

She grinned at his attempt to make her feel better, nuzzling closer to him and closing her eyes. Then it slipped out of her mouth, like air, like it was always meant for him to know. “I’m scared.”

To that he didn’t answer. Although he could relate a bit.

“And it’s not just because of you. Back then I lost football because of matters of the heart. Then I had to give up writing because I thought that I could get football back. Being away from my family, losing parts of my independence and now… now I could lose football again because of matters of the heart. A different kind. ” the last one was referring to him, he knew. “but what’s worse is that I don’t know what I want. I haven’t for a while. For years actually. I remember what I wanted before everything and I think is till want that… but sometimes I’m just scared of wanting.” Her voice trailed off. Realizing she had said too much.

“tell me something the world doesn’t know about you.” He lowered his eyebrows, thinking. It was difficult for him to come up with answer. She pinched on his arms, lovingly. “there has to be something.”

“I love my nieces and nephews, a lot.”

“everyone knows that!”

He laughed “I mean I guess it obvious but, they’ll never know how much. You will.” He stroked her arms, resting his head on hers while she played around with the bubbles. After a moment of silence he said “I love them so much I fear for them. My problem is similar to yours” He looked at the wall while speaking “I see it with Ney and his boy and the public relationships he has had in the past. It’s scary. To think that you will always bring discomfort to the ones you love. Sometimes it stops you from loving them enough.”

Their honest words echoed in the bathroom, only for them to hear and then sank on the water under them.

She twisted her body, so she could look in his face. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms settled on his shoulders. She smiled at him.

“you have to start by loving yourself first.”

“I think I’m pretty cool.” He joked, smiling. She cocked her head, her thumb brushing on his cheek.

“you admire yourself. That’s different. You’re full of yourself.” She shrugged “also different.” He scoffed, pinching the side of her stomach. She ignored it “I’m talking about loving your insecurities. All of it.” Her eyes examined his entire face, everything. Like she was memorizing it. “I’ve said it before. You’re worth it without having to prove anything.” She smiled.

And if he wasn’t so hypnotized by her beauty, by the moment itself and her words, he would have kissed her already. But she kissed him first, like she was making a promise. That she saw behind his façade. He kissed her back, like he was promising her he’d do better.

If they weren’t so afraid of loving each other, this could have been a love story.

AHHHHHH!!!! So many things to think about, so many emotions. So many choice. Such broken people. And the way to the end is near. Ones again thank you for being patient with me, these weeks are the hardest and updates will be slower but i promise I'm not giving up. Like always i can't wait to read your thoughts and comments. This chapter was supposed to end more dramatically butttt i guess 11 is where the peak is gonna happen. I love you all, forever and ever!!

#newromanticsfic #kylian mbappe imagines #mbappe imagines #mbappe x reader #mbappe x oc #football writing #football imagine #neymar one shot #neymar x reader

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