#kylian mbappé imagine

[darlingmbappe]

When We’re Ready [1] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two]

Summary: Kylian's blatant desire for a baby has your head spinning. Though, you must say, he is quite convincing...

Warnings: SMUT! Minors, go away. Penatrative sex, oral (female receiving), groping (semi-public), breeding kink, cussing, horny mfs, kinda cringe and cheesy but I stand by it. Let me know if I missed anything! – English is not my first language. –

Masterlist

Kylian was easy to read. His expressive face always gave him away; scrunching and elongating against his will. Even when he was meant to hide his true feelings in certain situations, there was always a little twinge of the eyebrow or crook of the lip to let you know exactly what he was thinking.

Maybe you just knew him too well, spent too much time with his elastic face to pick up on the micro expressions that made it possible to know his mood at any time. But, something was different about tonight. Cheeky? Yes. Pensive? For sure. Annoyed? Maybe… It was hard to say with the way he stared at you from the bed. One hand propping up his heavy head while he watched you intently putting lotion on. 

This expression was new.

“Babe?” You call, rubbing together the leftover lotion on your hands, sitting in front of him on the bed. “You okay?”

“Mhm.” He hums, still seeming out of it as he shifts and stares at the TV now, though it only reflects a dark image of himself back at him, seeing as it wasn’t even turned on.

You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t buy it. Something’s on your mind.” You take your rings and earrings off, setting them in your jewelry catcher by your nightstand. Kylian stayed quiet as you got under the covers, drawing his attention back to you.

When he didn’t give you any sort of answer, you had no choice but to scroll on your phone in an attempt to ignore the burning stare that came from your husband's side of the bed. Eventually, it was impossible to pretend you didn’t feel his eyes dead set on your face. You shut your cell off and set your phone on your stomach, looking directly at him, your sudden view shift taking him by surprise. “Okay, seriously. What?”

“Nothing.” You catch a smirk barely grazing his lips before he just shakes his head, turning and switching off his bedside lamp, cozying up under the duvet. “Don’t worry about it.”

You huff and sneer at his answer, shutting off your lamp as well, curling up with an obvious annoyance at the lack of information. “He thinks I'm not gonna worry about it.” You mumble to yourself passive aggressively, your back turned to him. “You’re being weird. I don’t like it.”

“I'm not being weird.”

“Are too.”

Kylian stared at the back of your head, quiet as he slowly reached for your waist, effectively pulling your body up against his to share his warmth.

“Oh, so now you wanna cuddle?” You grumble, settling in comfortably despite the bite that laced your words.

He kissed your hair, lost in his own racing mind, not fully convinced he should bring this up to you tonight. Your annoyance was surface level, nothing he was deeply concerned about because he felt the way you relaxed against his own muscles, letting his arms act as your blanket. 

He was sure that the thoughts that persist in his skull had crossed your mind as well. As he lay there with you, the love of his life, he let his brain think without hesitation; no if’s or but’s, no playing devil's advocate with himself. He let himself indulge in the future fantasy that he had dreamed of since he was a small boy. He felt lucky he had you in all of his delusions, always right there with him. You’re around in every scenario he makes up; ever present, making you laugh, making you swoon. He feels so lucky that you stand with him in the tangible world as well, looking better than anything he comes up with in his mind. Saying funnier things, sweeter things.

As your breathing stables, he’s not sure if you’re fully asleep yet, or how long the silence has even run for. His throat would close at the words when you were awake and responsive, but now that he couldn’t tell, it was easier to whisper them to your sleeping figure – nothing holding him back from telling you his little secret.

“Let’s have a baby.”

His voice could have been mistaken as a sigh as he breathed the words gently into your ear… but you heard them.

Your eyes shot open wide, the air becomes harder to take in your lungs at the shock, laying still in his arms. Slowly, you lift your head and stare back at him. He feels just as shocked upon seeing that you’re actually awake, gulping at the confession he let slip. 

He knew you wanted kids, just like he did. You’ve been married just about four months and had previously talked about waiting two years or so to start a family. The pair of you agreed stability in the home was necessary before bringing a child into it – which was fair enough – but his baby fever was deadly. There wasn't anything he could do to keep away the images of little toes, and bassinets, and rolls on their tummy, and dimples on their legs and… just everything. He wanted to see them grow up. He wanted to debate you on who they got it from. He was prepared to do anything for that baby, and the baby itself is just a thought. A sweet little figment of his imagination… but they already had your eyes.

“Did I hear you right?” You sleepily mumble, feeling his grip on you grow tighter and his heartbeat quickening just a smidge.

He kisses your sleepy cheek, resting his face against yours as his arms wrap more securely around you. “Oui, mon coeur. I want a baby with you.” He repeated, voice still soft.

“You think now is a good time for us?”

“Mm…” He ponders a moment. “I think so.”

“Is this what you were thinking about?”

He kisses your shoulder. “Yeah. Been thinking it for a while.”

“A while…”

“A month or two.” Kylian shrugs like it's casual… like it hasn't completely taken over his brain from the second he saw you walk down the aisle. “Imagine our little family. Just the three of us." He lets the silence marinate, unsure of whether or not you've fallen asleep on him. "Don't you think?" He squeezes you gently, needing to keep this conversation going now that it's started.

You burrow your back into him to let him know you're still lucid. "Yeah. Just the three of us... but... is now the time to bring a baby into the world?"

His sigh sounds defeated, tickling your face. “You don’t think it is…”

“I don’t know… I haven’t really thought about it.” You admit, looking at him once more. His eyebrows furrow and now you can read him clearly. 

The overthinking face. 

Despite being confident in himself and his actions in pretty much every aspect of his life, Kylian is a chronic overthinker. He’ll let his thoughts drag him into a darker place. He begins to question little comments or actions that he wouldn’t have thought twice about if the little voice in his head would just leave him alone. The crease between his eyebrows tilt upward, his tongue finds his top row of teeth, his stare points away to a still object that will allow him to daze off into the flying spiral of introspection. 

You tap your finger on his chin to get him to look back at you so you could ground him. “I have thought about it. A lot. Just not so much recently…” You say, not only doing damage control on your last comment, but a true statement on the topic of family that you’re interested in exploring further. “With the wedding, moving, family stuff, you know. Everything’s a little jumbled right now.”

The gears turn in his head and he purses his lips. “No, I get it.” He sighs deeply. “I guess you’re right.” You turn in his arms, now curled into his chest. He kisses your forehead before resting his chin on it, engulfing your body completely in his. “But, maybe two years is a little long to wait.”

“Yeah, I agree. Who knows if we’ll even still be together by then.” You grin mischievously into his skin and feel the vibration of his deep chuckle from your obvious joke.

“Shut up.” 

You move your head so you could look at him, pressing a kiss to his chapped and upturned lips. “Let’s give it until the end of the summer. That’s like, what, three months? If we both feel like the time is right, then we start trying, For real.”

He closes his eyes to feel your presence in his, content enough with the compromise. Isn’t that what marriage is all about, anyway? 

He wiggles his eyebrows. “You up for a little practice?”

“Practice?”

He rubs a firm hand down your back, letting it rest lower than it was before. “Just a little refresher…”

You caught on, rolling your eyes as he pulls away to gauge your reaction to his suggestion. 

“Ky, if anything, you’re a little over-practiced in that department.”

“No such thing, baby. Take it from me, I’m an athlete.” He smirks cheekily, letting only one finger run against your skin, tracing where the hem of your tank top had been resting on your hip. He dipped it lower and pulled up at the waistband of your underwear, letting it snap back gently, stinging only slightly but your sleepy state caused you to feel it ripple through you like he had whipped you.

“Hm…” You were sleepy, sure… but Kylian dipped his face into your neck. His lips could not have been more supple against your skin. The open mouth kisses he placed were gentle, soft, beyond seductive. Your eyes shut against your will at the feeling, his large palm flat against your side and moving up under the material that separated his bare chest from yours, tongue prodding out just slightly to taste your skin. “... I guess we can practice. Just a little…”

That night changed everything for you. 

You see babies everywhere now, it’s like the population multiplied overnight. There was nothing that could stop you from cooing at their tiny socks and chubby ankles, the sound of their giggle echoing through the grocery store, their innocent little smiles when they looked at their mommy or daddy… God, does everyone have a damn baby but you?

The months went on and the late summer sun was hotter than it had ever been. At least for as long as you’d lived in Paris. You could barely walk outside for the mail without sweating and needing a shower. You verbally thanked the heavens you weren't pregnant right now, not being able to imagine carrying a human inside of you with all of this heat. Kylian brushed it off, still holding out hope for a new addition to the Mbappe household. 

Kylain might be an extremely intelligent man, but, boy… subtlety is not his strong suit. It started with him leaving open baby magazines on the kitchen counter, flipped to the cutest, smallest, chunkiest little one they had on print. He’d send you baby TikTok videos with a message that read “do you like this color for the living room walls?” 

In his defense, he was never trying to be subtle. He continued to think about what you said that night he first mentioned trying, and he still thinks that bringing a baby into the mix is right for you two. He tried to chop it down to his social media algorithm sabotaging him with constant baby content or maybe the honeymoon phase after the wedding had him feeling this strongly, but those explanations just didn’t feel right. After knowing you for six years and getting to love you for almost all of that time, he was eager to create a family with you right in the center of it. 

The baby discussion had made a sharp turn at some point this last month. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it all went from questioning every aspect of your life together and reasoning with one another about very serious doubts and scenarios, to unhinged conversations about things that just caused you to giggle. Things like: where the pair of you would bring your newborn on their first vacation, what their first word would be, if they’d follow in Kylians footsteps, how much money the tooth fairy would give them for their first lost tooth.

It’s safe to say, you finally came to the silent conclusion that you were ready – but that realization couldn't have come at a more awkward time.

Dinner with his whole side of the family was a blessing for you both. It wasn’t very often that every schedule cleared up in the same time frame. A large restaurant section was rented out in the heart of Paris for family and friends to get together. It was a nice time to make conversation and catch up on everything life had churned out since the last time you’d seen each other. The appetizers were spectacular, the drinks were doing their job, it was all so nice…

… Except that nothing – yes, nothing – is more awkward than being unstoppably horny for your husband in front of his entire family. You cut yourself off after martini number three when you noticed it was turning your brain into goo. The buzz wasn't enough to make you drool and incoherent, but seeing your Kylian playing with his niece and nephew, picking them up and turning them upside down, pressing affectionate smooches to their bulbous cheeks… drooling and incherency was not far behind. 

He was going to be such a good dad. He was already the most caring husband, even with all of his responsibilities and commitments. He found time for you in every sliver of open space in his schedule, needing to soak up quality time with his wife as if it were as necessary as air. 

The entrées began to come out as everyone took their respective seats. Kylian was still oblivious to the googly eyes you’d been throwing in his direction all night, but it wasn’t long after he sat down that he caught on. 

He leans over to whisper to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I know that look. Very well.”

You shudder at his breath tickling your skin. Flustered beyond belief, you could only manage to shake your head, letting out a shy and breathy laugh.

Kylian bit his lip and snickered along with you, setting his hand on your knee and faces forward. His touch was hot. A skillet off of the stove would have sent the same wave of heat all the way up your limbs. You reach for the water on the table, positive that the fierce blush overtaking your face would be obvious to anyone who decided to look at you in your current state. His long fingers began moving against your knee, tracing mindless patterns that only sent you more goosebumps. He knew that every gentle touch or fragment of affection he would give you right now would be heightened tenfold… he loved knowing that you were putty in his hands. He knew your mind – and right now, he had completely taken over it.

“Feeling okay, mon amour?” The sly smirk on his face gave him away. He was just teasing you, and Lord, does he love teasing. His hand moves upward to your midthigh, stopping and moving his thumb up and down above your dress, crinkling the material. “You’re looking a little flushed.”

You’d been avoiding eye contact, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your needy gaze. “Kylian, stop it. Your mom’s sitting right there.” You reprimand in a soft voice, not wanting to raise any attention to the pair of you up to nothing decent.

“I’m not doing anything.” He chuckles, moving his hand a little higher. You suck in a sharp breath as he leans into your ear again. “Won’t you look at me, bébé?” 

You shake your head no, feeling quite shy as your throat dries up. You clear your throat discreetly and reach for the cold water once more, but Kylians hand grabs your palm, bringing it to his lips. “Let me see those eyes, baby.” He mumbled against your hand. His back was turned to the rest of the table, acting as a human curtain for your obvious discomposure.

You roll your eyes before looking at him. You tried your best to give him a scolding look, but the second you saw that same glimmer in his eye that matched yours, your current sensitivities doubled down. The pace of your heart heightened quickly, the warmth in your cheeks increasing by the second.

You felt like leaning in to kiss his lips. He licked them right when he took a quick glance at your own, your hand still taken in his.

“Your eggplant parmesan, madame.” You didn’t even see the waiters bringing out the entrées being too engrossed in Kylian's burning stare. You smile up and thank her then look around the table. You’d forgotten that there were other people there for a second, much less his family. His mom, dad, nieces, nephews, aunties – distant or otherwise… You had to pull yourself together before they caught on to your overly horny demeanor. 

Kylian took his hand off your thigh when his chicken alfredo was placed in front of him, noticing how you sat up straighter. For now, he’d let you do your best to make regular conversation with his cousins that sat across from the both of you, but he noticed how tightly your legs were crossed together. He saw your eyes dart away from his whenever you turned his way. When he brushed your pinky on the table before engulfing your hand, you took in a sharp breath. So sensitive. 

He nodded toward your empty plate. “Feel like turning in early, mon coeur?”

You raised a brow at him. “Ky, you sure? Your whole family’s here. Don’t you wanna stay a little longer?”

He shrugs. “We’ve been mingling for like,” he looks at his watch, “almost three hours. Besides, I’m quite a bit distracted tonight.” He peeks down at your cleavage, darting his tongue out to wet his lips. “I think I wanna take you home.”

You shudder when he leans in and kisses the corner of your lips. To anyone watching, it’s a sweet gesture of affection, but to you… it was erotic. Sensual. It made you tighten your thighs even more.

His attention is taken back to the others at the table, letting them know that the two of you would be leaving a little early, blaming it on his morning training schedule. You two made your rounds to every seat, kissing cheeks and rubbing shoulders, making sure you left a good impression with each and every one of the members of the group. 

He opened the car door for you, grabbing your hand to help you in, kissing your knuckles before hopping in the driver's seat. He weaved through traffic with a sure hand on your upper thigh, slowly and subconsciously getting higher and higher. 

It’s unfair that he holds all the power right now – making you sweat and need him with every purposeful tap on your skin. The pads of his fingers migrated downward over your dress until it reached the hem of the frilly garment. His eyes were fixed on the red light in front of him as he let his hand travel under your dress – the simple skin to skin enough to invade you with goosebumps – feeling each and every one on the trail he formed toward your panties, toying with the band wrapped around your hip.  

You didn’t even mean to swivel your hips closer to his hand, but when his forefinger traveled lightly to feel your slit over the elastic material, you couldn’t stop yourself. “Ky…” You whined as he wiggled his digit against you. 

You look over to see his smirk facing forward, practically visualizing his ego growing at just your involuntary mewl. Looking at his lap, you saw the trace of his member was much too prominent to assume your neediness wasn’t affecting him. You reached over and took hold of it, gripping with a single squeeze that had his breath shake in surprise. 

“Merde, cherie…” He hissed, taking sporadic peeks down at your hand as it rubbed him through the layer of cloth. It wasn’t responsible to grope him while he was behind the wheel, but the standstill traffic and ultra tinted windows lent you enough feelings of safety to continue your motions. You felt him getting harder as you pumped your fist as best you could over his stiff zipper. 

Half his mind wanted to ask you to wait until you got home so he could shove you between him and the wall, feel, kiss, bite, lick every centimeter he saw… but how could he? Your fluttering lashes made him forget how to speak coherently. He just couldn’t resist you. 

His personal fucking kryptonite. 

There you both sat, hands on each other's most intimate parts in the center of traffic. It was kind of exciting that the people on the same road had no idea what was going on. That the thick steel doors and blackened windows were the only thing keeping them from seeing you throw your head back when he pressed on your clit. That they were oblivious to the sweet sounds that bubbled up from Kylians chest as you ran your knuckles over his tip, the hand that wasn’t lost under your otherwise innocent dress gripping the steering wheel so, so tightly. 

Kylian took a quick and sharp left, finally away from the traffic going down the last road until you reached your private residence. His foot pressed all the way down on the pedal, impatiently rolling the stop signs. In any other scenario, it would make you nervous, but you truly didn't even notice the way he broke traffic laws once he had removed his hand in the urgency of it all. 

You unbuckled as he drove down the last couple of blocks, leaning over the center console to attack his open neck, surely leaving a big purple bruise in your wake. Your hand wrapped around his face, pressing him further into you. He grunted and closed his eyes as soon as he put the car in park inside the garage, wasting no time grabbing for your leg so you could straddle him in the tall SUV. 

Kylian hiked your dress up with his hand firmly placed on the globe of your ass, squeezing your flesh harshly as you grinded down onto him. With his lips now on your own, all the sounds of pleasure were muffled and smothered.  

“J'ai tellement besoin de toi, putain.” I need you so fucking bad. His hands roamed higher around your waist as he got access to your neck.

“J'ai besoin que tu mettes un bébé en moi. C'est si dur.” I need you to put a baby in me. So bad. When you say these words, you feel him stiffen. His hands cease their movements, now only gripping you in place as he leans his head back to look at your face. He needed to see if you were joking or not. Breathless and completely earnest, you stare into his wide eyes, feeling the way the mood changed with just a single phrase. 

He hints at a smile. “You’re serious?”

You nod, kissing the tip of his nose, brushing your thumb dearly on his cheekbone. “So serious.”

He grins happily, pure excitement behind his eyes as he rubs your back with an incredible gentleness. He’s overtaken with fondness as he leans in to kiss you again. He smiles into it, letting out a joyous giggle when he hugs you tightly.

He barely pulls back. “Let’s get you inside. My beautiful wife.”

He couldn’t keep his hands off of you as he hugs you down the hallway toward the master bedroom, taking small detours when he simply couldn't help himself; grasping your neck to kiss you lovingly, slowing down to press you against his front and whisper sweet things in your ear. 

You half expected him to throw you on the bed, rip your dress off, and take you like it was an animalistic instinct. By his conduct in the restaurant and in the car, you’d expect nothing less than a rough and primal fuck. 

But, no. He walked you backward toward the bed, only staring into your eyes adoringly as he lifted you up to lay your head down on the pillow comfortably. 

He kissed you once before just looking at you on the mattress, knees turned in and pathetic little squirm demanding its way through your limbs. Your pretty purple dress was now wrinkled and twisted, halfway up your thigh, straps hanging loosely off your shoulder.

He beamed, deciding to sit on his knees with you in between him as he began undoing his white dress shirt, button by button, eyes never leaving yours. Your grabby hands untucked the material from his pants, matching his slower pace as you undid the buckle of his belt.

Once his shirt just hung on his shoulders, he placed two warm hands on your legs, allowing them to wander up and up, the material of your dress all scrunched up in their path. He unveiled your body to his hungry eyes, tapping the side of your ribs so you’d sit up and let him take it off of you completely. You both giggled softly when it finally went over your face, disheveling your hair in the process. Kylian brushed it all away from your features, grabbing your face sweetly and laying you back down, noses only an inch away as he balanced his body on top of yours.

“Mon amour.” He mumbled adoringly, brushing his nose with yours, grazing your lips slightly. “We’re really doing this.”

You just smile, pecking the cheesy wide grin that had taken over his features. “We’re ready.” You confirm, wrapping both your arms around his neck. 

He slowly made his way down your body, inch by inch, kiss by kiss. His tongue made soft and swift circles on your left nipple, your other being pinched and soothed by his strong fingers. As he ventured further, he placed his palms firmly on your tummy, kissing it so tenderly, as if to prepare a space for his future baby. Blessing it’s temporary home before they even had the chance to get there.

“You’re going to look so pretty when I get you pregnant.” The words were strangled between the emotions in his voice and the ringing in your own ears; the pressure of his lowering hands making your head spin. 

He tossed his shirt aside along with his pants when he reached your underwear, placing himself with purpose as he began pulling down the lacy garment. He hummed delightedly when a string of your slick clung onto the material. You showcased your pussy to him like he paid for it, jutting your hips toward him with pure need. 

“You’re so fucking wet.” He murmured as he ran a finger through your folds, just to tease, perceptive to the shiver that formed a sweet noise from your chest.

Without needing further instruction, he kitten licked your clit, gently sucking on it now and then. You turned your head into the silk pillow, letting it catch most of the crude noises you were making for the man between your legs. With his arms securely wrapped around your thighs, he pressed his face further into your core, shaking his head back and forth before adding two fingers. 

“God – fuck, Ky.” The abstruse praises spewed out of you when he curled his long, long fingers up, pumping them as they hooked inside your rigid walls. 

He pulled them out too quickly for your liking, taking his magic tongue with him as he stared down at your pussy. He stretched your skin apart with his thumbs, playing with you for his own visual gratification before slowly inserting three fingers inside at once. He watched them intently disappear into you, then quickly looking at your face that twisted in delight as he stretched you open – preparing you for his thick member. 

You wailed in pleasure, your hands gripping the sheets until your knuckles turned white. “Oh my god, Kylian.” How he loved hearing you moan out his name. It only made him need you more, staring up at you dotingly past your stomach. “Please, baby… I need you.” You begged.

His fingers slow down before leaving you bare. He watched your empty pulsing hole for only a second, licking his fingers clean as he shuffled around to be on top of you once more. 

He hovered over you, staring deeply into your eyes. You sighed in contentment at his gazing, allowing one of your hands to go astray to lower his boxer briefs over his ass, pulling down the front as well. You took hold of his thick and hard cock, pumping it while keeping eye contact with your lover. It was so beautiful to observe the tiny fragments of expressions that waved over his face. The microscopic twinges of his eyelids, the slight curve that forms between his eyebrow, the gentle pursing of his lips. 

You tugged him to your opening, running his dick along your soaked lips, lubricating it as you began to try and prod yourself open with him. Just the feeling of his tip beginning to enter your tight pussy had him shuddering. Kylian met your hand, helping it guide his cock to your entrance, slowly inserting his desperate mushroomhead.

He moved slightly, watching your expression for discomfort. “You’re so tight.” He huffed. Your hand stayed on his base, his small and paced movements still only to stretch you out for him. He felt the pads of your fingers as he shallowly pushed in and out of you.

“Faster.” You demanded, moving your hands to his ass to follow his movements. 

He complied, heavy breathing fanning your face, his pace increasing, stuffing more of himself inside of you. Kylians eyes were shut tightly, head lulling down and occasionally planting a sloppy kiss on whatever skin happened to be closest to his parted lips. His arms shift into a plank position and he nuzzles his face in your neck, body pressed firmly against you – the beads of sweat on his muscles rubbing against your middle in tandem with his thrusts that still only went in halfway. With your hands still on the globes of his ass, you clenched and pushed him deeper with your palms. 

He groans at the feeling, almost all the way inside of you. “You want it all? Huh?” He asks between gasps of air. “You want me to stretch out your tight little pussy. Take it.” He kisses you, tongue aggressively scouting your mouth. He lifts your legs up and sets them around his shoulders. 

While staring into your eyes, he snaps his hips forward until his pelvic bone was pressed deliciously on your own.

“Fuck!” You scream, feeling him so, so deep inside of you. The slightly upward curve pinned against your g-spot as he stayed still in that position. The way your strained walls grabbed him and kept him buried inside made his eyes cross for a second. He tilted his head and kissed your left knee. Your foot grazed his back when he pulled out almost all the way, and, Christ… the look he gave you was debilitating when he thrusts back in.

When you say Kylian is easy to read, you really meant it. You could stare at his face for all of three seconds and gauge his mood. It was something he actually found a little annoying sometimes; coming home after a tough day and you’d force him to talk about it before he would even get a hello out. He could say he hated your perceptiveness all he wants, but he’ll never truly convince himself of that. He loved that he could communicate with you with just a simple impression on his features. 

Now, he thrusted in and out, in and out as he gazed down at your hooded eyelids – and the look on his face was, again, one you've never seen before. 

And despite this, you just knew what it meant. You felt it in your heart. 

Love. Passion. Devotion. Care. Companionship. He'll be there for everything that is to come.

You saw your future in the shining glimmer in his irises. You saw everything. 

Tears naturally welled in your eyes, one slipped, rolling down the side of your face. There was a glint of concern in Kylian as he slowed his unforgiving pace, but you moved your hips to keep him going.

He halted his motions and was about to ask you if you were okay or if you were hurt, but your hands cradled his face and you leaned up to peck his lips. “I just love you so much.” You say, answering the question he hadn’t even asked yet. 

He lets out a deep sigh, wavering and telling. His thumb grazes over the trail of your tear, then leaves it there to stroke your skin. You gave him a light and playful spank on his right butt cheek, making you both giggle. He leaned down and kissed you feverishly – smooching once, twice, three times and pulling back only slightly.

“I love you. Je t'aime. Dieu, je t'aime tellement.” I love you. God, I love you so much. He planted sweet kisses all over your face, still smiling. “Tu es tout pour moi.” You are everything to me. 

He pulled completely out of you, leaving you empty. A whine bubbled out of your chest and Kylian traced over the crease that had formed between your eyebrows, just before inserting himself back. Your mouth opened in pleasure, a moan stuck inside your throat as he gradually powered through your tight walls, inch by fucking inch. It was a feeling of complete satisfaction when his tip collided with your sweet spot once more. Even better when the drag of his thrusts nudged it over, and over, and over, A slow pace. A gentle pace. A pace that he felt necessary for the beginning of this new chapter. 

He knew he was close, but kept his rhythm to get you there with. His hand found your clit quickly, making you jolt up, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him into you.

“Oh, shit, Kylian… God! Yes! Fuuuuck…” The heaps of praise melted like butter in Kylians ears. The sweet voice of the woman he loves praising him made his heart flutter, soaking in the feeling of your teeth sinking into his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna fill you up.” He stuttered into your hair, changing the motions of his fingers of your sensitive bud to get you there faster.

“Please, please, Kylian.” You kiss his neck, biting the skin. “Get me pregnant. Please.”

He moaned at your words, feeling like he couldn’t stop himself from orgasming for a minute longer. “Putain, je suis sur le point de... bon sang!” Fuck, I’m about to… Jesus Christ! 

It was there. Right there. His thrusts faltered, he took your face from his neck and ran his free thumb over your lips, pressing his forehead to yours as he groaned deeply. He squeezed his eyes closed as you felt his hot spurts of cum painting your walls, shooting into you delightfully until you were sure you were full. He cursed, eyes screwed shut as he continued thrusting sporadically. The feeling of it all made the knot in your abdomen pop. You screamed his name, legs shaking on his shoulder violently, toes curling, thighs shivering.

He pulled his hand away and kept fucking his cum into you through his groans of overstimulation, right until he had to gently and slowly pull out. He kept your legs pressed against your chest as he ventured down the mattress to get a better view of your pussy; his seed spilling out of you in dribbles, forcing him to stuff as much as he could back into you with his thumb. You shivered, lifting your head to watch him admire his work as if you were a piece of art he’d spent centuries perfecting. Slowly, he brought your sore legs back into a more natural position, soothing your aching muscles with a gentle massage. You were still coming down under his touch, both of you absolutely breathless. He throws himself down on the pillows next to you, whisking your hand from your heaving stomach – just holding it as you both calmed down and caught your breath. 

“Christ…” You mumbled, chuckling a little bit. You rotate your body toward him with a giddy smile on your face, cuddling into his side and kissing his cheek. He began chuckling along with you. “What if I'm pregnant right now?” You ask, excitement comfortably taking over your face. 

He shakes his head and looks at you, then down to your exposed stomach pressed against him. His hand snakes onto your middle, gently pushing you on your back as he steadied his hand right on your belly button. 

He didn't even need to say anything. His face said it all. 

The excitement of it all carried through the following weeks. It took everything in you to not tell every one of your friends and co-workers that you guys were trying. With the media breathing down your necks, it was agreed that this would be kept on the down low and you’d only announce when you were showing and could no longer hide it. Privacy was important to you both as a couple, and saying you're trying was really just a socially acceptable way of telling people you and Kylian were just constantly having sex.

Your leg bounced in anticipation as you asked your Alexa (again) how long was left of your fifteen minute timer. Kylian chewed on his thumbnail as he sat next to you on the bed with the same frustration at the slow clock ticking down, needing to know if the little stick that sat in the bathroom had one or two lines painted on it. 

“I’m not pregnant.” You say into the silence with no evidence that that was true.

He leans back, taking his raw nail away from his teeth. “You could be.”

“I don’t think I am. Wouldn’t I, you know, like, feel it, or something?”

He sighs, placing a sure hand on the small of your back. “I have no idea. I don’t know if you know this about me… but I’ve never been pregnant before.” He smiles, earning a forced grin from you. He notices the unnaturalness of your curved lips to appease his bad joke, never reaching your eyes as they darted around the room nervously. He scoots closer, hugging your shoulders comfortingly, rubbing them like it would take away your anxiety. “Whatever it says, we have time. We keep trying.” He kisses your cheek with a quirk in his smile. “I quite enjoy trying.” You huff out a laugh – a real one – and playfully jab his stomach with your elbow. 

That moment lasted no longer than a few seconds before the sound of the alarm went off. You audibly gulped down the minimal moisture in your mouth, taking a deep breath in as you both walked to the bathroom, Kylian holding your shoulders as he walked behind you into the tiled room. 

“You want me to look?” He quietly asked after you just stared at the stick that was face down on the counter, not moving a muscle or even blinking. You nod, wiping your hands on your pants. 

It felt like everything moved in slow motion when he reached for the otherwise insignificant plastic test that your future was written on. He kept the stick face down in his hand and took a deep breath in. You subconsciously crossed your fingers at your side. You’d never done that before, but you were hoping the universe would listen to your silent pleading superstition. You watch his face so intently, hyper-analyzing it before he even turns the stick in his hands. 

His eyes shot down to it and he pursed his lips with a miniscule sigh. Without saying anything else, he sets it back down on the counter and pulls you in for a hug. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you needed confirmation of your suspicions, looking over at the stick with only one single line. 

He put his chin on top of your head, squeezing you dearly. “It’s okay. It was our first try.” He murmured as you wrapped your own arms around his torso disappointingly. 

You nod despite the grave let down, having convinced yourself that it would happen now like you had both hoped. “Yeah. I don’t know why I expected to get a positive that quickly. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”

He shakes his head, not really knowing what to say to comfort you while dealing with his own waves of sadness. Embracing each other in lieu of speaking was just as comforting, knowing you both were having the same experience together was consolation enough. 

He kisses the top of your hair with a whispered I love you, holding you, holding him. 

A/N: Part 1 of 2 (possibly 3). I'm back! Thank you to everyone for being patient with me and checking up on me through my little month hiatus. Sometimes, you just need a break and I appreciate you guys so much for being so kind through it! Huge hug and kiss to everyone here! Based on these requests (anon 1) (anon 2). And, don't worry, @megannandrewss , yours is coming in the next parts!

Taglist: @trentione @mentalbaddie @neymarsrealgf @akiraquote @mrswhitethornbelikov @kymb-10 @formula101x @photmath @marcelineslove @tsikik @iheartkyky @freshfraise @jokertbh @germanapples @urfuturesoccerwife @nightlockcornucopia @laylaynaynay130 @starlight8374 @depressoesssspresso @mbappesbae @ maddyperrezz @gigiboss @xanjoy @lovekm @jkkiks @vvbasmavv-blog @suzysface @ lolarmy72 @lizzz2967 @kylians-world @superswaggycooch @shashla @mehrmonga @abayo222 @missmo79 @tties24-7 @gurleenkl @drewstarkeysbae @ vibinwkay @ctn26 @ippid @i0veless @abayo222 @b-bradshaw @http-isabela @zoeeeruiz @mitruscity @kenanlotus0 @mbapbaesluvr @alwaysclassyeagle @nhatquynh @philipetchebest @ricsaigaslec @dfswfvf @urfav-tz @kylianswag @fanatica2023 @alexisquinnlee-bc @megannandrewss

[blossom-works]

Home for My Heart: It’s Not What it Looks Like!

“Hey Ethan, do you know where your brother is?”

Your little brother (despite him being taller) shakes his head “no”. Frowning, you thank him and continue with your search. 

Kylian had an award show to attend and he invited you to come to the after party with him. Every now and then you would attend these parties with him. Parties were never really your thing, but you do enjoy them in small amounts. Plus, the paparazzi would be there and expose your relationship. You do not want to be labeled “Kylian Mbappe’s rando woman 20XX”. 

Most of the time you and Kylian stuck to each other, but sometimes find yourselves on the other side of the room. When this happens, Kylian is having fun with his friends and you are talking with yours. Thankfully, everyone who knows about your relationship also keeps is a secret. They understood that Kylian does not want you to be shoved into the spotlight. They may take photos of either of you, or the two of you together, but they never post them. If anyone who does not know asks who you are, you try to come up with a white lie. Most of the time your friends will cover for you. Telling that person that you are with them. 

“¡Ey! ¿Adónde vas?“ Pilar yells out to you. Despite her being twice your age, you two are good friends. You two do not hand around often, but you tend to check in on each other every so often. There have been times where you and Pilar will set a day aside for a little in-person catch up. Since Sergio and Kylian play for Spanish teams, you and Kylian hang out with the Ramos family.  Hey! Where are you going?

“¡Estoy buscando a Kylian! Él tiene mi teléfono.” I'm looking for Kylian! He has my phone.

Pilar beckons you over to her. “That can wait. I want to introduce you to someone!”

Looking around, you try to spot your boyfriend. With no luck, you decide that your search can wait a couple of minutes. Pilar looks really eager to introduce someone to you, but you have not called your parents this week. At least once a week you call them to ask how they are doing. You will ask how your siblings and their families are doing. Sometimes your mom will gossip to you. You also ask if they need anything, financial wise. When you and Kylian got serious-serious, he told you that he wants to take care of your parents. The only thing is, your parents hate taking money from anybody. Somehow Kylian got them to agree that if they need help, financial or otherwise, Kylian would be the first person they should call. 

Ethan excuses himself from his friends to go look for his brother for you. When you first met the Mbappe family, it took some time for Ethan to warm up to you and vice versa. It was not because he did not like you, he just did not know you. When you both got to know each other, it was game over. You and Ethan became the best of friends. You became an older sister to him and Ethan became the little brother you did not know you needed. It helps that there is a two year age difference so finding common ground is not hard. Plus, you tag-team in teasing Kylian. Ethan plays for another team in a different country, but you always try to watch his match via in-person or on TV. 

While you are talking to Pilar, a hand comes from behind you and plants itself on your waist. 

“Hey, bébé.” Kylian greets with a kiss to your temple. 

“Where’ve you been? I was looking for you.”

“Désolé, j'étais à l'étage avec certains de mes coéquipiers.” Sorry, I was upstairs with some of my teammates.

“Do you still have my phone with you? I have to call my parents.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Kylian digs into his pockets and takes the device out. You and thank him and try to find a quite area to call your parents. While seeking a suitable place, you noted how sweaty Kylian’s forehead is. He and his buddies were probably just partying hard. Kylian deserves to let go for a night since he works so hard in his career. Tonight, your boyfriend can just let loose and be a normal person. 

The first time Kylian brought you to one of these parties, he did not let you out of his sight. He knew that you were not a party-person, and since you did not know anyone at the time, Kylian felt more comfortable with you by his side. He introduced you to a couple of his friends and their partners if they brought them. Slowly, the more you came around, the more relaxed you got. Kylian still checks in on you when he can though. He knows that these parties can get a little out of hand. 

Most of the parties you went to before you moved to Spain were with close friends and family. There were times where you did go out and club with friends, buy you never danced and limited yourself to one or two drinks a night. Most of the time you were the shepherd herding your little sheep. It was not that you were a party-pooper, you just like being the responsible one. If you truly wanted to let loose, you would do it at home with friends. You would rather do something stupid in the safety of a familiar environment and with people you trust, than do something stupid in a random building with people you will never see or meet again. 

Two Days Later:

Your job at the hospital is a good one. As a child life specialist, you job is to break down medical terms and procedures to younger children. You have had to get creative in your explanations. Sometimes you will even need to get a diagram as a visual aid. Another aspect of your job is to keep the children entertained when no one else is able to. 

It gets stressful at times, but it makes the child less scared of the unknown. Plus, you take some of the burden off the parents. There have been times where a child unfortunately does not survive the procedure or treatment. Those are the days where you go home with red eyes. You have a journal of all your patient's names, reason for hospitalization, likes and dislikes, hobbies, and for some, death date. 

You wanted this job because your cousin used to be hospitalized when you were younger. He had heart complications and had to stay at the hospital for a long period of time. You remember visiting him with your family and there was always a lady lurking around. Not in a creepy way, but in a way where people know she cares. Sometimes she would bring you treats during your visits. When you cousin got better and was able to leave the hospital, he gave the lade a small cake in appreciation for everything she had done for him. 

To see her try to make your cousin laugh or smile was a pleasure to witness. The way she explained things were awesome too. She always knew what to say and how to make it make sense to a child. Since you were in high school, you knew you wanted to be like her. So, you did everything you could to do that. 

Whenever it is time for one of Kylian’s games, there are screens of children who are hospitalized. Kylian would often ask you for advice to brighten their day (not like he needed to. Almost all of those kids are happy just to be acknowledged by the footballers). He even joked that if you teach him, he could one day help find a cure for their illnesses. You remember telling him, “I know I work in a hospital, but that doesn’t mean I know medical terms. Shit. I have to ask doctors to help me do my job.”

As you sit in your desk chair, you co-worker comes running in. She loudly shuts the door and locks it. 

“¿Has estado en tu teléfono?” Have you been on your phone?

“No. No he podido encontrar un descanso hasta ahora. ¿Lo que está sucediendo?” You give her a weird look. No. I haven't been able to find a break until now. What's happening?

Your Spanish was semi-fluent but since you started living in Spain, it has gotten better. Your French on the other hand is alright. Since meeting, Kylian has been helping you read, write, and speak his mother-tongue. 

Your friend pulls out her phone and shoves it in your face. A little annoyed at her action, you snatch the phone out her hand and look at whatever it is that has gotten her this frantic. On the screen is a picture of Kylian on a yacht with a woman in an intimate pose. The headline: “Kylian Mbappe back together with Emma Smet?”

Oh, hell no...

One Hour later:

“Kylian Mbappe Lottin! You get your ass over here!”

No noise comes from the penthouse. You told you boss that you had an emergency in order to leave work early. You have no idea how you did not get a ticket for speeding. 

You throw your bag to the nearest surface and start tearing the place apart. The entire penthouse looks like a tornado has come through as a result of you searching for the Frenchman. After finding no one else present, you plop yourself on the couch in tears. You wonder what the hell went wrong between you and Kylian. It feels like hours before you hear the front door open.

Not wanting to look back, in the most aggressive tone you can muster, you greet the Frenchman. 

“Where the fuck have you been?”

Kylian does not answer you, which only makes you more mad. 

Whipping around you say, “I asked-”

Just behind him you spot a head of dirty blonde hair. Her eyes are wide and slightly frightened. Like a child when their parent caught them doing something wrong. Emma Smet is in your home. Holding hands with Kylian. 

“Just what the fuck-!”

---

Your eyes snap open and grabbing the pillow from under your head, you slam is against Kylian’s head. Your throw is hard enough to make Kylian wake up in a panic. His eyes land on you hold your pillow in the air, and your angry face. It takes him a couple of seconds to register what had just happened. 

“Bébé! C'était pour quoi ça !” Baby! What was that for!

“You cheated on me in my dream!”

In disbelief Kylian defends himself. “How is that my fault?”

“You cheated on me with Emma!”

“What?” Kylian has no idea how to handle this situation. His brain is still groggy from sleep. He has heard about women getting mad at their boyfriends or husbands because of these dreams. Kylian never thought it would happen to you, and damn, he underestimated a pillow’s force of nature. The left side of his face is throbbing. 

“And how dare you date other women before me!”

“Quoi!” Kylian’s eyes blow wide. What!

In a huff you took your deadly pillow and yanked the comforter off Kylian and marched downstairs to the couch. Like a child throwing a tantrum, you throw yourself on the couch and cross your arms while you lay down. Your brows are furrowed so hard that may be lucky if you do not wake up with permanent wrinkles. Alone and cold, Kylian is still trying process the not-so-really argument that had just happened. Shaking his head in amazement and slight annoyance, he grumbles out of bed and tracks you down. Feeling a little vengeful, Kylian lays his full body weight on top of you. 

“Get off me!”

Kylian tells you “no” while snuggling up to you through the comforter. His head is directly on your head, to which he nuzzles it. You truly feel like someone whose dog keeps moving around in the middle of the night. You try your best to throw Kylian off you, but to no avail. The man is just too damn heavy for you, and it does not help that your crossed arms are trapped between your body and the couch. 

“Kylian! Get. Off.”

“Non.”

Huffing, you start to wiggle your body side-to-side in hopes that your boyfriend will slip of you. No matter how hard you wiggle, the man just would not fall off. If anything, it feels like he is putting more of his weight on you, which you have no idea how that is possible. Giving up, you lay on the couch, completely still. 

“Are you done with your tantrum, petit? - Ah, traitement silencieux, hein?” Silent treatment, huh?

Copying your previous actions, Kylian sways his body side-to-side. His attempt works because not only is he on top of you, but he weights more than you. You groan as a way to tell him to stop, but it only encourages your boyfriend to continue. Knowing you cannot do anything, you just lay there with your arms still crossed. When Kylian finally decided to stop annoying you, he asks if you “forgive him for cheating on you in your dreams”. Kylian emphasizes the “your” part. 

Still throwing a bit of a tantrum, you quickly turn your head to the side to the point where Kylian worries you will get whiplash. “Non.”

In disbelief for another time tonight, he demands to know why you are so adamant on being mad at him. 

Pushing yourself off the couch, you sit with all your limbs crossed. “You cheated on me with your ex!”

“In your dreams you doofus.” The annoyance Kylian felt is now gone. He is fully amused at your child-like behavior and misplaced anger. The thing about Kylian is that he does not stay mad for long. Most of the times he will just laugh or smile things off. Like now. 

“You still did it!”

Now, you know how much you are overexaggerating, but you still want to be mad at Kylian. It does not hep that Kylian knows you know you are being irrational. And his little wiggle fit did make you feel a little bit better. Kylian copies your posture almost exactly, and to top it off, he lets out a huff. He gets a kick out of watching you roll your eyes. 

“Chérie, you do realize how ridiculous you’re being, right?” How you want to smack that smug smirk off his face. Kylian teases you enough for you to let go of your misplaced anger. Still though, you have your pride. You lay back down on the couch and pull the blanket to your chin. Knowing he won, Kylian scoots behind you and pulls you close to him. 

“Are you done with your temper tantrum now, love?”

“...Shut up.”

[sorceresski]

Sick Day - Kylian Mbappé

Pairing; Kylian Mbappé x reader

Summary; You’re ill, you neglect yourself and he takes care of you.

You knew it was going to be a shitty day when you woke up at 4am with a splitting headache and the beginnings of a fever. Kylian lay next to you, snoring lightly, his arm draped over your stomach possessively.

Deciding to deal with the fever when the sun rises, you let yourself drift off to sleep. You woke up a few hours later to Kylian rummaging in your shared wardrobe as he prepared to leave for training. You felt even worse now, your entire body ached. You pulled the covers over your head to drown out his noise and the sunlight.

“Amour, are you ok?” He asked, coming into the room. He knew something was wrong because you were usually the first out of bed.

“I might have to call in sick today, I don’t feel very well,” mumbled the heap of sheets on the bed.

You felt the bed dip with his weight, his concerned expression coming into view as he peeled back the covers from your face. He pressed the back of his palm to your neck. “The fever is not that bad. I’ll leave breakfast and some medication in the kitchen before I go. Promise me you’ll take it.”

He knew how much you hated swallowing pills. “I’ll take it,” you rolled your eyes. He still didn’t look convinced. “I promise.” He knew you too well. Satisfied with your response, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and made his way to the kitchen.

You picked your phone from the nightstand to let your boss know you won’t be able to make it to work today, the sound of Kylian in the house serving as background noise.

“I’m leaving!” He yelled, the front door closing after him. The apartment fell silent and you fell into an unpleasant sleep, drifting in and out of consciousness.

———————————————————————

Kylian walked into the apartment 6 hours later to find the pancakes and pills he left on the kitchen counter untouched. He threw his bag to the floor and ran up the stairs.

He opened the bedroom door to find you in the same position he had left you in this morning. He tutted and shook his head. He was disappointed but not surprised, he just wished you would prioritize your health.

“Y/n?” He shook you awake. “You’re burning up!” He immediately sprung into action, ripping the sheets off you and sitting you up on the bed. He took your (his) shirt off you and swept you up effortlessly to the shower.

You blinked the last bits of sleep away. “What are you-” Was all you could get out before you were hit by a blast of cold water. You squealed, attempting to fight your way out of his hold, but he was far stronger than you. He held you under the shower for a couple minutes, getting soaked as well.

He dried you, while you glared daggers into his chest. “I hate you,” you sniffed.

“I know,” he said calmly. He walked out of the room and you took the time to study your reflection, a mess. When he returned, he had changed out of his wet clothes and gave you a fresh pair of clothes for you to wear. Your joints screamed as you shrugged them on, suddenly feeling exhausted and hungry. Very hungry.

He led you back to the bed, making you rest against the headboard. You avoided his eyes, suddenly feeling ashamed at having to be taken care of like a child.

Kylian came back with a bowl of soup and the medication he had left on the counter hours before.

“My mother’s recipe.” You felt your heart swell at his sheepish smile. He placed the medication on the nightstand and crawled into bed beside you. “Something for the fever and headache.”

“Thank you,” you said genuinely, earning a kiss on the corner of your mouth. You cringed away from him. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I. Don’t. Care.” He punctuated each word with a kiss. He turned on the tv finding something to watch while the sounds of your slurping filled the room.

A/n: the first thing I’ve written on this app that isn’t smut😭

Requests are open for Kylian, Haaland & Neymar.

[nymrs]

#2. MISBEHAVE | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: above

Genre: smut (oral, male receiving)

Pairings: Kylian Mbappé x female reader

"Come on Ky, one short dance and I'll shut up for the rest of the night", you pleaded, but your boyfriend beamingly shook his head from left to right.

You currently were on one of Neymars parties and as usually, the house was crowded, filled with tipsy people dancing and jumping around. The alcohol took control over your body, you loved dancing, especially if you were drunk enough to not care about how your moves looked like to others. Kylian, on the other hand, tried his best to avoid dance floors. He simply thought he wasn’t good at it and didn’t want to make a fool of himself.

Neymar, who was standing only a few metres away from you, watched you rocking back and forth on your seat, discreetly moving your hips to the loud music. He heard you singing along and begging Kylian to finally go with you in between the lines of the song. "May I, madame?", Neymar smirked and reached out a hand for you. You glanced over to your boyfriend, who sometimes got jealous of you and Neymar being so close, though there was no reason since Neymar and you were like brother and sister. "Go", Kylian sighed out, feeling relieved you would stop trying to convince him now. You quickly pecked his cheek before intertwining your hand with Neymars and dragging him to the middle of the room, holding your hands up high eventually feeling the release of enjoying yourself. The two of you foolishly danced around, laughing at each others goofy dance moves, until a slower placed song came on and Neymar grabbed your waist in order to pull you closer to his body. "Do you think he’s getting mad again?", Neymar whispered into your ear. You spied over to Kylian, only to see his body already tensing up at the view of another man touching you on those spots only he was privileged enough to touch. "Definitely", you giggled out as Kylian started chewing on the insides of his cheek. Neymar and you didn’t let his insecurities stop you from having a good time though. Driving your boyfriend insane was your personal way of amusing yourself. You loved seeing him being all possessive and protective over you. "Are you done?", Kylian bluntly asked as he walked up to you and grabbed your wrist, dragging you away from Neymar, who was left alone, chuckling to himself before he turned around to continue his dance session with someone else.

Feeling Kylians muscles vibrate caused by the built up tension turned you on in a way you couldn’t explain. The way his jaw clenched, his hand held onto your wrist so tightly - Kylian showing his dominant side was your weakness.

"Am I getting punished now?", you joked when he led you down the hall, stopping at the door of one of Neymars many guest bedrooms. "Maybe", Kylian coldly responded, clicking the door open and slightly pushing you inside. His tongue moisturised his lips by slowly circling on them while his eyes wandered up and down your body. "You owe me an apology." You bit your bottom lip while you nodded yes, taking some steps towards him, "I do. I haven’t been really nice to you, hm?" His breath against your skin sent tingles all over your body as you were only a few inches away from one another. Your fingers tipped slow beats on his chest, steadily lowering their position. Kylians breath got heavier the moment your hand found its way to his well visible bulge. Before you finally started rubbing on his cock through the fabrics, you kept on looking down at it and peering up to stare right into your boyfriends eyes. He looked down to watch your hand move up and down on his growing curve, letting out a low moan when you used two fingers to put some pressure on his sides. You kissed his neck as you unbuttoned his shirt, then your lips went all the way down from his shivering chest to his v line. Arriving at that spot, you wasted no time and quickly pulled his jeans down along with his boxers, revealing his huge cock to you. Just like every time you saw him, you admired him with one hand pounding on him at a calm pace, supporting yourself by holding onto his knee with the other hand. You covered his dick in short soft kisses first, next twirling your tongue just around the tip. Kylian threaded your hair, brushing it away from your face so he could watch you with his dick in your mouth. You knew he had enough of your teasing when his hips started moving, pushing his shaft deeper into your throat. With your hand massaging his balls, you began to bob your head back and forth, looking him in the eyes as you tried to keep them open. His head fell back in pleasure. "Yes bébé, just like th- fuck", he moaned out once you got faster and squeezed harder on his balls. His hips found their rhythm as he thrusted in and out your filled mouth. Your eyes got watery with all the gagging, saliva already running down the corners of your mouth. Kylian pulled on your hair, you felt his cock twitching. His groans got deeper and longer with every thrust. The moment he was about to cum, he grabbed the back of your head, pushing his cock the deepest he could. His eyes roll back as he uncontrollably moans out. You feel his warm semen shooting into your throat and let him watch you swallow it before licking his cock clean. Kylian tries to catch his breath as you proudly smile at him, "Am I forgiven?"

[emwritesfootball]

Formalwear | Kylian Mbappé

hey em! hope you’re well 💕could you pls write sth with my baby mbappe 😍 his gf runs her own enterprise and everyday she’s dressed formally and it turns him on so much. one day she shows up to his house in the middle of the night wearing a trench coat and nothing underneath 😈 and she’s really assertive and dominates him in bed for the night and he loves it. can you make it super duper smutty if poss 🥺

Warnings: a lil femdom, nipple play, cunnilingus, blowjob, light mention of edging

- - -

You walked out of the bedroom ready for the day, tilting your head to one side to put in your earrings. Kylian was already at the table eating breakfast, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. 

“Good morning,” he said, giving you a quick kiss. “Busy day?”

“Yeah. Got an earlier-than-usual meeting followed by a presentation and then a very important meeting with a potential investor.” You were almost breathless recounting your upcoming day, excited for the challenges ahead.

“You’re going to look very sexy during that presentation. I wish I could be there.”

You shot him a grin, rolling your eyes as you poured yourself a cup of coffee to go. “Don’t worry - I'll give you the play-by-play later, as long as you return the favour.”

“Are you coming back here tonight?” Kylian asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“I wish,” you sighed, shaking your head. “I’ve gotta head home and make sure spiders haven’t completely overrun the place. You leave tomorrow for an away match anyway, right?”

“Oui, Le Classique against Marseille. I should be back by Sunday.”

You gave him one last kiss that held promise of things to come later. “I’ll see you then. Au revoir, Kyky.”

***

You watched Le Classique from your house, cheering on Kylian every time he got close to scoring a goal until he finally did. An idea sparked as you thought of ways to congratulate him when he got home.

Sunday evening, you stood in front of your wardrobe, surveying your options. Kylian was infatuated with all of your formalwear - pencil skirts, blouses, and of course, the lingerie you wore underneath them. 

You took your time getting ready, showering before assembling your clothing and putting it on. Each piece was meticulously selected along with your perfume and jewelry. You slid on your favourite pair of heels and slipped your trench coat on for the finishing touch before walking out the door.

Kylian was about to go to bed when he heard a knock at the door. He opened the door, his smile growing wide as he saw you on the other side. “I thought you couldn’t stop by tonight?” He said, leaning in for a kiss that you didn’t grant him.

“Thought better of it,” you replied, stepping inside and reaching for the buttons on your trench coat. “And after the way you played, I figured you deserved a little treat.”

Kylian’s eyes lit up. “What kind of treat, chérie?”

“Sit down and I’ll show you.”

Kylian did as you said, spreading his legs so you could see the growing bulge in his sweats. “Don’t,” you ordered when he reached for his cock, smirking when he immediately pulled away. “Good boy.”

Kylian’s eyes were locked on yours as you sauntered over to him, undoing one button at a time on the trench coat. His tongue poked out to wet his lips as you bared your cleavage. “Nothing on underneath?” He asked in French, switching to his native language.

“Nothing,” you confirmed, getting to the last button and shimmying the trench coat off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. You let Kylian drink you in, knowing how good you looked naked in just heels and thigh-highs. 

Kylian swallowed hard. “I’ve been fantasizing about this.”

“I know.”

“Can I touch you?” He looked up at you, waiting for confirmation. When you gave it, Kylian reached for your breasts, running his thumbs over the hard peaks of your nipples.

“I think that’s enough,” you said, right as Kylian was about to put his mouth on your nipples. “Get on your knees.”

Kylian dropped to his knees, moaning as he did so. You propped one leg on the sofa so that your pussy was open to him. Taking his chin in your hand, you led him between your legs until his mouth latched onto your clit. You let out a moan as he licked and sucked at your dripping cunt, his fingers dipping into your hips for leverage. 

“Don’t stop, Kylian!” You whimpered, gripping the back of his head to hold him in place while you rode his face as you came. The orgasm rocked you and you were grateful you had him to hold onto as you composed yourself. Kylian looked up at you and you leaned down to give him a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

You walked toward the bedroom, Kylian at your heels. He laid down on the bed and you took pleasure in getting to undress him, freeing his cock and taking his length in your mouth until he was a whimpering mess, begging to cum, but you didn’t let him. 

“Patience, Kyky,” you chided, mounting him so you could ride him. “You’ll get to cum when I say so.”

You let Kylian give you two more orgasms before you let him cum, Kylian babbling his thanks as he came inside you.

“You’re going to spend the night, yes?” He asked, cuddling into you.

“You’ve still got my suit hanging in your closet, right?”

“Of course.”

You fell asleep in his arms, both of you wishing you didn’t have to get up for work in the morning.

[cialovesklopp]

DRESS ➺ k.mbappé

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — a day at home with red wine in the mix, always guarantees for an eventful night with heavy feelings developing in the mix

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 6.2k

𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 — dress [taylor swift]

mon amour — masterlist

amara imani would like to take her statement back. she did not hate her life anymore.

since the arrival of the french striker in her life, a lot of things had taken a tour around for her. he had taken such a big place in it, he had even managed to change her perspective on her own situation. in the one and a half months they had known each other, kylian had become her closest friend and ally. 

the moment kylian had texted her, they had immediately taken off where they had left. conversation with him was easy and she never felt the pressure of having to fit someone’s image of her. he made it comfortable. the feeling of deep drowning in the sea started to become less and less, and breathing got easier. 

but next to that, he had also been there for her, emotionally and physically. whenever she had been down due to the press still trashing her in every of their articles, he had been the one she called. for every rant, every breakdown and every support, he had been the one on the other end of the line. to cheer her up, the two would spend nights watching rom-coms and eating take-out which usually went against his diets but he couldn’t care less. all that mattered to him was that she smiled again. 

that had also been why he had helped her so much with her new apartment. the guilt of renting out a stranger’s apartment as a favor had been eating her up alive so amara had been very happy about kylian’s advice to help her buy one when she had told him about her feelings. usually, he was not one for apartment hunts and hated redecorating, hence why his mother had decorated his home and yet for her, he was willing to get dirty with paint or spend hours in ikea. 

the furnishing of her apartment itself had been largely inspired by pinterest, which kylian had found great pleasure teasing her about. but amara had just ignored him, loving the end result of her apartment. looking around her home, she knew it had all been worth it. the softness of her simple couch, the beige tone of her walls that blended perfectly with the rays of sunshine falling down on her room plant -- she loved every inch of her apartment. 

the sound of the tv played in the back as she read her book calmly. the scent of cinnamon spread through the room, the perfumed candle burning on the small modern table in front of her. snuggling into her couch as she continued to read, she enjoyed the comfort her home extended. it was impossible to not feel a sense of affiliation. 

she was also feeling very welcomed in paris. she found herself very surprised when she remarked she was not bothered by the loud, crowded streets and noises from the busy city. instead she loved living in the french capital, loving its energy and the possibility to speak french again and lose her accent she had caught during her time in england. although she had not made any new friends or acquaintances in paris, putting herself in a lock-down to not draw any unwanted attention to herself, she had settled well into the city.

even funnier was that, since kylian’s arrival in her life, the fact that her career was crashing down, did not bother her as much as it had a month ago. before their encounter, she used to think, her career and voice where all she had, that she was nothing more than that but Kylian had definitely changed that. he had done more than that — he had changed the way she viewed herself. he liked her for being Amara, just Amara and not the personality she wore in public where she was reduced to her voice. 

his aura was just different. but a good different, the kind that lightened everyone’s heart just at the thought of it. he was nothing she had experienced before but it was something amara wanted to bask in. 

just thinking of him spread warmth through her body. he reminded her of a ray of old light that shone at the end of the tunnel, the signal that something better was coming. 

snuggling her legs closer to her body and covering it with her soft, woolen cardigan, she listened mildly to the sound of the birds twittering, a book in hand and no regard or care for the world outside her apartment. except her book and him, nothing else was on her mind. her mind rested in a peaceful state that nothing could bring it out at the moment. 

or so she thought. her moment of silence, quiet solitude and inner peace of mind got disrupted brutally with the sound of her phone ringing, tearing her out of her state of tranquility. there was some annoyance present, outweighed by hesitance as she picked up the phone, ready to face grace again for some bad news. a smile showed up on her face though, when she read kylian’s name on the caller id, relief and annoyance vanishing in an instant. 

she closed her book, putting it down beside her and accepted the call quickly, happy to hear what kylian was about to tell her over the phone. 

“hey kylian,” amara greeted him on the phone, her voice coming out soft and tender. 

“bonjour mara, comment as été ta journée?” he asked, his voice matching the tone she had given him, warmth spreading through the phones.

“actually good — till you called,” she joked, grinning widely at the nickname she had been given by him. “i’m just kidding, it was okay. spend the day reading. i swear, that book was so dusty, because it’s been so long till i bought it. 

“still more productive than me.” he laughed, amara feeling the whole room illuminating just by the sound of it. 

“what can i say?  you spend the day, running after a ball. can’t be that hard,” she retorted sarcastically.

“i haven’t seen you get an offer, where they pay you 82 million per year,”

“that’s because people pay me to see my voice and not the amount of times i net a ball into a net.” she snapped back casually, “anyway, before i get meaner, how was training?”

“comme d’habitude,” kylian replied, waiting a bit before asking his next question, “what do you think of going out for dinner? it’s my treat.”

his question started a war in her. even though her heart started racing and she felt excited at his offer, she hesitated. amara was reluctant to go out again. the fear of being caught in the public and making new headlines scared her more than she had imagined. 

she muted the call, contemplating with herself whether she was ready to step back into the public again. the press were dying for a picture of her again, and amara knew they were ruthless enough to do everything for it. every of her next moves after the cheating scandal were watched with the biggest scrutiny, critics and journalists ready to attack her at the next faux pas. 

there was anxiety deep down in her, an insecurity, created by the press and headlines she had to endure in the past weeks. she struggled with leaving her home, even if it was just to go to the next local bakery. there was a constant battle between her and the public, tearing her down everyday, the fear of destroying her career and reputation even further was bigger than her desire to move on -- she wanted to, desperately but she felt her reluctance. she was afraid. 

she wished for the return of normality in her life but her fear of damaging her career outweighed her desire for it. and amara knew, her fright of being caught outside would ruin the dinner kylian had planned for them. instead of focusing on him, she would be distracted, her attention divided between the looking out for press and the man in front of him. and he didn’t deserve that — kylian deserved a normal first date. 

“je suis tellement désolée,” she began, falling back into her native language, “i think the world of you kylian, i really do. but I'm just not ready for this — for us"

“you don’t have to feel bad,” kylian cut her off, his voice sounding safe and kind, “je te comprends.” — i understand you

“i just don’t want to rush into anything,” she explained to him over the phone, “it’s… je ne sais pas vraiment comment dire, mais… i think i just need some time for myself. i would love it if someday, it went further, but right now i can’t. i want to take this slow, i guess.” — i don’t really know how to say it

her voice was vulnerable, mellifluous some would say, as she spoke. and he could never be mad at her. he had noticed her hesitancy immediately and was somehow not surprised by it. time tended to be a delicate measure in love affairs and he was willing to wait, if that meant he would be able to earn her trust and show how much it meant to him. prove to her that he was everything she needed. “we move at your pace if you want. if you want to go slower, we can go slower. i follow you. we’ll leave this friendship for now as it is and maybe one day, we’ll have that date. but till then, i’ll wait till you’re ready.”

she let out a breath, she didn’t even know she had held, relief washing over her. her heart melted at his words, the way he understood her, respected her choices, and didn’t push her for something she was not ready — it felt nice to have a partner, an ally like him in her life. 

“merci ky,” she thanked him gratefully, “thank you so much for understanding. how about you just come over?”

“i’d like that,” he responded, amara smiling when he accepted her offer. “do you want me to bring take out?”

“please do,” amara exclaimed, moaning at the thought of food. “there’s no way i’ll leave my couch except if it’s to pee.”

he laughed and she could just imagine the sight of that, watching his dimples appear again. “if you say so…”

“i can promise you, i did not plan on cooking tonight.” 

“well, then it’s good, i’m coming over with food.” he bragged sassily, followed by short laughter. “and again, i’m saving amara imani from dying.”

“just hurry up, please?”

“i’m on my way, cherié.” 

ending the call, an immense giggle left her lips, surprising her so much, she clasped her hand in front of her mouth to stop herself but it was useless— she still bursted out laughing, smiling brightly from one ear. the effect kylian had on her truly amazed her.

the ring of her doorbell pulled her out of her light slumber, groaning as she stretched her arms. her couch might have been comfortable but the position she fell asleep in definitely wasn’t. the novel she had started right after finishing the previous one had bored her so much, she hadn’t even noticed how her eyelids became heavier and heavier and the words she read suddenly didn’t make any sense to her anymore. there had been no point of change, the next moment her eyelids closed, she had left them in their state, falling into a light sleep. 

her body made it clear that she was tired, the way she had to drag it off the couch to get to the door. she wasn’t expecting anyone except kylian so she didn’t waste any time, trying to fix herself up a bit before opening the door. but she wouldn’t need to anyway. in kylian’s eyes, she could wear a potato bag and still be the most beautiful woman in the world (even though she would disagree wholeheartedly).

opening the door, amara’s eyes landed immediately on the brown paper bag, the french striker was holding in his right hand, standing outside her door. 

“you brought lunch,” amara stated plainly, her mouth starting to water when her nose caught a small scent of the food.

“actually dinner, considering it’s past six,” he retorted jokingly, entering her apartment. even though he had been over several times, kylian still felt a sense of pride, whenever he looked around. the countless hours he had spent, rummaging through magazines, walking through ikea had paid off. he noticed in her behavior that she felt at home. 

“i don’t even remember what i had for breakfast— did i even have breakfast?” she murmured in front of her, a satisfied expression apparent on her face. it changed quickly though to an embarrassed one, when suddenly a grumble was heard and it was clear that the origin of the sound was her stomach. 

“well, i brought,” he began, opening the brown bag and taking out its contents, “alfredo pasta with chicken,” he placed the meal on the marble kitchen counter, “a chicken caesar salad and,” he trailed off, grinning widely at her. “this beauty.” to amara’s surprise, he held up the bottle of red wine he had brought with him, which she recognized immediately.

“how did you—, i can’t even remember— what the hell?” every attempt she tried to form a sentence failed despairingly. the shock on her face was visible, she was clearly taken back. especially because she couldn’t remember even have told him about her tase of wine. 

kylian’s grin only widened at the sight of seeing amara speechless, happy to see he had somewhat the same effect on her as she had on him. “you mentioned it once during our movie nights… think it was when we were watching that movie about how to get rid of a guy and this clingy girl. anyway, you told me this was your favorite.”

this time, an unknown kind of warmth spread through her chest and her whole body. of course, her attraction for him grew even more but there was also something else. he remembered something she couldn’t even recall, whether she had ever mentioned it. but the fact that he had, warmed her heart. she felt seen, something that was very rare with evan. 

she took the bottle from his hands, accepting it thankfully. “i don’t think anyone has ever gifted me wine before, let alone my favorite.” she admitted quietly, hugging the bottle a little closer to her body. 

“i am glad to be the first one,” he replied softly and held out a fork, “so which one’s gonna be? pasta or salad?”

“i think…,” she started, pushing the bowl with the salad towards him, while reaching for the one with the pasta in it, “your nutritionist will start to hunt me down if i let you eat any more unhealthy take-out food so you take the salad.”

“well, ice cream and rom-coms sound so much better than salad and tread miles, tu ne trouve pas?” he commented rhetorically, grabbing his food that had been assigned to him and plopping down onto the sofa. he tapped on the free space next to him, waiting for her to join him. amara rolled her eyes but still followed his request, sitting down next to him, and hugging her legs closer to her body. “so, how’s my song going?” — don’t you think?

the nigerian singer rolled her eyes playfully at the star football player, preferring to eat her dinner than talk about her career even if she knew he meant it jokingly. a moan left amara’s lips as soon as the food hit her mouth, her taste senses immediately overwhelmed by the sensation of it. she wasn’t aware she had been this hungry till she had actually started to eat the food kylian had brought. her head fell back in satisfaction, ignoring the way kylian made fun of her. it was just her and her food.

“it’s in preparation,” she retorted shortly, going back to her food again. “but i should ask you, how many goals have you already scored for me? and what about my champions league?”

“there were tons of goals for you,” he bragged, shrugging his shoulders and waving dismissively. “the question is how many albums and songs are you gonna dedicate to me if i do win you a champions league?”

she scoffed, almost offended that he thought she couldn’t measure up to the significance of a champions league. “i’m gonna dedicate a whole tour to you if you do.”

“i’m gonna have a whole cabinet of trophies just for you.”

“you should put them right next to the cabinet with my grammys” amara replied sweetly, sarcasm clear in her voice. “along with your world cup trop-- stop stealing my food, kylian.” she cut herself off, exclaiming the last part of her sentence when kylian tried again to steal some of her pasta. 

“but i don’t want the salad,” he wailed, poking at the lettuce leaves on his plate. 

“t’aurais dû apporter plus de nourriture. it’s not mine you’re gonna get.” — you should have brought more food

“I’ll buy you some more”

“not gonna work,” she said firmly, pushing her bowl closer to her chest. kylian turned, acting as if he turned back to his plate before attacking hers again, making amara shriek by surprise at the attack on her food. “kylian!”

he held his hand up in defeat, knowing Amara was too stubborn and wouldn’t budge. “fine, fine,” the French striker said, bringing his attention back to his salad. the chicken Caesar salad wasn’t bad but he would choose pasta any day over green lettuce, after all he had never been a big fan of vegetables, only eating them when necessary. “so… what do you say, we listen to some music?”

“as long as it’s not my own, hit play.” she commented simply, “and i swear i will ban you from this apartment if you put any french rap.”

“come on, you said you loved French rap.” he objected, reaching for his phone and the bluetooth box on the small cabinet. 

“no kylian, i said that to stop you crying about your shit taste in music.”

“it’s not that bad.”

she scrunched up her face, a thoughtful expression apparent as she contemplated how to deny his statement. “well, anything’s better than your fashion style.”

“please neymar said it was good.”

“and you trust his opinion why?” she shot back quickly, raising an eyebrow.

he looked down, nearly embarrassed. “because he gets all the good reviews on his outfits.” kylian admitted shyly, not facing her as she let out a laugh.

“well, yours are shit.”

“now, you’re just being mean.”

“shouldn’t have tried to steal my food.”

“your still mad?” he exclaimed, “i told you i would buy you more.”

she shook her head, starting to collect their used dishes. standing up, she headed straight for the kitchen, putting their plates directly in the dishwasher, not in the mood to get her hands dirty. 

“do you want a hug?” kylian called after her, grinning widely. “i know it’s not food but it might also make you feel better.”

a shy smile sneaked onto her face, a chuckle leaving her lips at his proposal. grabbing a corkscrew, she returned back to her place with the bottle of wine he had gifted her. “I want the wine you brought me.”

“i can’t drink, i have training tomorrow,” kylian mumbled, rejecting the glass of wine she had held out to him and put his phone back down again, the lyrics of je te laisserai des mots starting to sound through the bluetooth box. 

“that’s okay, i can drink for two.” shrugging, she filled the red liquid into her glass.

“way to make me feel better.”

“i try.” she replied softly, closing the gap that separated her from the warmth of kylian’s body. 

there was silence between them, comfortable peace listening to the music. as the soft piano of the french ballad lulled them into a sense of comfort, amara snuggled into his body, resting her head on his shoulder as she sipped on her wine.

“you know the wine tastes better when you drink it with me,” she muttered, laughing lightly as the stunning song ended — and one of hers began. 

“oh…,” he noted, once he recognized her voice. he scrambled for his phone that lay on the white table in front of the couch, hurrying to skip the song but amara prevented him from doing so by grabbing his right arm. 

a fond smile graced her lips, “you can leave it,” she admitted gently. “i’m just surprised you even had me in your playlist.”

again, he looked at her, embarrassment clearly visible on his face. “i kind of asked neymar about you and he just grabbed my phone. i didn’t know he added this.”

she reached for his phone and restarted the song — and to kylian’s surprise, started to sing along. 

as she began to sing along to the lyrics of her own song, kylian found himself again completely mesmerized by her. the way her voice immediately adapted and matched the rhythm of the slow, r&b song — she could not be more perfect in his eyes. except her voice and the usual noises from the typical parisian life that sounded through the windows, it was quiet in the apartment. his heart filled with love and admiration for the woman in front of him. he had longly stopped listening to the lyrics but he didn’t care — all that mattered was her angelic, soothing voice. if kylian could, he would save it as his ringtone but at the same time, he would have hated the idea — he wanted this moment to be remembered by them and only them, and not some third part — this was for them. if he had had doubts about them before, about the way his feelings progressed so quickly, they were all gone now. all he wanted was to call her his, to hear her say, he was hers. 

two minutes passed, spent with her singing and him listening to her happily before the final notes of the song faded into the comfortable silence. kylian instantly began clapping, showering her in compliments as the melody of the new song started to sound over the bluetooth box but amara gave no quite reaction. a wave of sadness washed over her, grief and sorrow settling in and darkening the comfy vibe they had created. 

noticing her silence and the change in her behavior, with amara not even replying to one of his compliments, he looked at her and reached out to put an arm around her. he pulled her closer to his chest, making sure not to spill her glass with wine. 

“it’s just weird…,” she began, staring holes into the ceiling, “it’s one of my favorites songs and yet i also hate it. i guess everything is just still there.”

“is it possible for me to love a song when i was in such a bad place at that time?” she asked the french striker, taking small sips from her glass of wine. 

“it’s not always the team that plays better that wins.” kylian noted, his gaze shifting to the black woman on his chest staring at the ceiling. 

she chuckled “he never kept his promises,” amara confessed, referring to her song. “i kept all of them. he never kept his.”

“i may not have spent evenings cooking dinner for him naked but i did cook. and i spent endless nights waiting for him to come home. dressed up nicely because i thought it would make him finally pay attention to me,” she scoffed, realizing just how stupid she sounded, “he has probably no idea how it feels, waiting for someone to come home and instead waking up to new cheating rumors and scandals. and whenever i confronted him about it, he painted me as the jealous bitch. it’s what inspired me to write this.”

“did he cheat on you before this?” kylian questioned and amara let out a loud laugh. 

“countless times,” she answered, taking a big gulp from her wine. “there were tons of cheating scandals. i was lucky they never made it into the press or were able to be demented. but he definitely depicted me as the stupid, naive girlfriend…  he made a fool out of me,” amara recounted, venom lacing in her voice as she explained her part. 

she took a deep breath, “he didn’t love me. he loved the idea of me, the rising star girl who had the potential to become the next beyoncé. i was publicity for him, nothing more. amara didn’t exist, amara imani the singer was present.”

“were you happy?” he asked her quietly, his voice matching her volume. “i mean, was there a moment where you were happy?”

she shrugged, clueless as to how she should answer his question. “i don’t know. maybe at the beginning, when everything was fresh and going well. but the deeper it went, the more fucked up it became. like i said in the song, i loved making him jealous because at least there, i felt appreciated. making him jealous was proving to me that he still had some feelings for me, it was all i had left of our relationship in the end.”

listening to her woes, kylian felt his heart bleed with hers. anger flamed up inside him but he needed to be the bigger person for her, he would be everything he wasn’t for her. she had exposed her vulnerability in front of him, wore her heart on a sleeve and he swore to himself to protect it. all the ugly scars and marks and yet she shone brighter than any trophy. her heart was gold, authentic and pure - and worth more than any ballon d’or he could receive. 

he swore to himself he would be the person she always needed. the one who held her when she was at her lowest, the one who cheered and supported her when she was at her highest. his desire and determination to be the man she deserved and needed outmatched his own want for a champions league — she was the bigger picture, worth more than football.

“he didn’t deserve you, he never did,” kylian muttered. “and i am so sorry about what you had to go through in your own relationship. no one deserves to feel unfulfilled in their own relationship. but i can promise you, whether it we will be me or another man, you will be treated like the queen you are in your next one. it’s the least you deserve.”

amara lifted herself up from his chest and stared into his eyes, moving her eyes from the ceiling to look at him. suddenly, there was no one mattering except them, they were in their own world. time seemed to stand still as they wandered through universes together, the sorrowful atmosphere replaced with a delicate one, filled with passion and chemistry.

they were able to hear each other’s heart beats, pumping in a sync rhythm. they saw nothing but each other, leaning in, wanting to close the space that separated them from feeling each other’s touch. as she wanted to place her hand around his neck though, she accidentally spilled her glass, still filled with red wine, watching as some of it spilled on the white carpet and her top. 

she may not be able to blush but amara was certain, if she could, she would have matched a tomato’s skin color, with the embarrassment she was feeling at the moment. next to embarrassment, anxiety also rose through her body because of kylian’s impending reaction. innerly, she already prepared herself for the disappointment and anger, just waiting for when he would lash out. after all, he had spend an entire day helping her with the couch and carpet just for it to be stained now with red spots.

memories flashed through her mind, remembering how this had happened with evan and he had spent ten whole minutes, yelling at her, cursing her for her clumsiness. she wouldn’t be mad if kylian was angry at her, she was used to it. 

since the floor wasn’t opening and swallowing her as she would have preferred, amara excused herself swiftly and disappeared into the bathroom, hoping that if she was quick enough, she would still be able to save the evening. her hands were trembling and she felt her legs shaking due to her mind constantly reminding her what had happened with evan, the last time something like this had happened. she sighed frustratingly, trying to restore her composure. 

kylian on the other hand, wondered why she had rushed out so quickly. he didn’t understand what was so embarrassing about spilling some wine— he had done it a thousand times and it never bothered him or made him mad. if she thought he would lash out on her, kylian was sure, he would start to hunt down evan henderson — it didn’t take a genius to figure out that her reaction was a result from past trauma. but he could never be mad at her. 

he grabbed some papers from the kitchen roll along with a few cleaning tools and started to clean up the small stains she had left. it wasn’t much, with the majority of the wine spilling on amara’s shirt rather than on the carpet. he wasn’t judging her from walking away so quickly, wanting her to know that she would never have to worry about anger with him. 

after he had managed to somewhat erase the red stains from the carpet, he headed for her bedroom, remembering the big spot on her shirt. luckily for him, he had been there when she had organized her dressing room, not planning on spending twenty minutes to find her a comfortable top. after some looking around, he finally settled for a simple rose oversized shirt, thinking about how she had named the color as her favorite. 

walking to the bathroom, he entered it quietly and found amara at the sink, trembling as she tried to get rid of the stain in her shirt. she was rubbing the fabric aggressively, her legs trembling as they tried to withstand the amount of energy. 

“tout va bien?” kylian asked her slowly, making her look up and her expression slowly turned from embarrassed to surprised. he held up the pink oversized shirt hesitantly, not really sure if he chose the right one. “i’m not really sure if you’d like to this one, it’s the first i found but i could always—” —is everything okay?

“thanks ky,” cutting him off, she thanked him, sending him a small smile through the window. he turned around, waiting for her to change out of the dirty shirt into the clean one. as she gave him a signal that she had changed, he turned back and took place next to her on the floor. “sorry for ruining the event.”

“don’t say that, you didn’t ruin anything.” he objected immediately. 

“you don’t have to lie, i’m used to it. i always ruin evenings.”

he shook his head, sighing at her stubbornness. “i guarantee you, you didn’t ruin anything mara.” 

“it kind of feels like that,” she admitted, deflating. “not that it would be the first time.”

he put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to his chest again, like they had sat on the sofa thirty minutes ago. “mara, i know he made you feel like this but i can assure you, spilling wine is a normal thing. it was an accident and accidents are what make us human. so, stop apologizing for ruining the night because you certainly did not.”

her eyes traveled up to his, staring at him in admiration. “i admire you, kylian, honestly i do so much.”

“me too,” the psg player stated, earning a light slap from amara on his shoulder. “ouch.”

“be serious for once,” she responding in a scolding tone, widening his smile. “i mean it.”

“i did too. he may have made you think that it is unacceptable to make mistakes but i can assure you, you can make hundreds of them. this is what makes up human,” he replied softly, gazing at the woman on his chest. “and if it makes you feel better, this is the best not-date dinner that i have ever had in my life.”

“same,” she agreed, cuddling even closer. “they don’t know about us, right? or that night?” she asked somewhat nervously but it was only detectable in der undertone.

“no, I looked. it’s all right. they’ve got no idea about me and you.” he replied, a sincere smile forming on his face.

“merci kylian. you’re a true lifesaver, on and off the pitch.” she thanked him. “and now please explain to me, how the hell did neymar talk you into thinking your outfits were good.”

he let out a loud laugh but nonetheless started explaining with amara interrupting him from time to time to leave some sidemarks. but they were comfortable as they sat on the bathroom floor. 

the sound of water drops falling from the tap they had just used was heard behind them, and amara couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotions. from the start, when they had met, she had known that kylian would be different from him. yet, this moment, as simple as it was, was special to her.

the way she found herself drawn to him — she had never had those kinds of emotions with evan, felt the attraction towards his personality.

the little twinkle in kylian’s eyes as he talked about how football had always been his passion, didn’t go unnoticed by her. there was just something so captivating, endearing even about the way he spoke. she found herself hanging on to his every word, fascinated by his intelligence, his wit and unique perspective. she felt safe and understood in those four walls.

and then there were his two small dips at the line of his smile, that she wasn’t sure whether they were dimples or not but couldn’t get herself to care. for her, they were the most adorable thing next to his smile. whenever they appeared, amara found herself completely mesmerized by it — for her, they were the most beautiful thing. 

just watching him talk, she realized just how much of an effect he had on her. it was happening quickly but yet so calm and hesitant, there was no denying of her growing feelings for the french striker. but she liked that it was happening at her own pace.

so here they were, sitting on the bathroom floor with red wine-stained clothes, talking about the world with no care for what is going on outside. they were in their own bulb, and god forbid, someone brought them out of it. with every second that passed, amara realized that she had found something special in kylian. he was becoming hers.

it was late, probably one or two o’clock in the morning and yet energy was pumping through amara’s veins. kylian had left a few hours ago, bidding goodbye due to having training in the morning and since then, amara could not rest. 

while they were sitting on the floor, talking about the world and god, she had suddenly been hit with inspiration. all of a sudden, words in her head started to make sense and build lyrics, perfect for a new song. and the more he talked, the brighter she got. 

as soon as he had left, amara grabbed a new notebook and started writing the lyrics into it, trying to build as much as she could. it was now well past midnight and she had almost finished a whole new song. 

truthfully, there were still some holes but that was nothing she couldn’t fix. going over the words she had written, she immediately noticed the reason why it had been so easy for her to write. all the words written on the paper described one man and her feelings towards him: kylian. 

and the longer she thought about it, the more she knew what she had to do. she grabbed her phone, immediately swiping up her contacts lists and pressed on grace’s contact icon. she should have felt bad about waking her friend up that early but excitement for her new song definitely outweighed her guilt. 

“hello,” a sleepy voice answered on the phone, grace. 

“gracey, i’ve got amazing news.”

a loud groan was heard at the other side of the line. “amara, do you have any idea which time it is? i was sleeping.”

“sorry but i just had to tell you. i wrote a new song. and i’m ready.”

“ready for what?” her manager asked her, seeming confused. 

“i am done hiding and i’m planning big for my comeback.”

[footballfanficwriter]

Absent

Summary:where Kylian promises his son to be there for his match but doesn't show

Maman ou est papa" ( Mom where is Dad?")

"Je ne sais pas, ma chérie" ( I don't know my darling))

Kylian was supposed to be here by now, Théo is playing today after being on the bench because of an injury, Kylian promised he would be there but I don't think he will

I try calling him for the 5th time today and it goes straight to voicemail

I sigh and look at my son whose putting his cleats on

"Is he coming?"

"I don't think so Théo"

He looks at me with a sad look that I instantly want to remove from his face

He hugs me tightly and I hug him back, I then pull away and look at him, then wipe away the tears that have escaped his eyes

"Je suis la, amour" ( I'm here, love)

"Ok Maman, je t'aime beaucoup" ( ok mom, I love you so much)

"Je t'aime beaucoup aussi Théo" (I love you so much as well Théo)

"I don't want to go"

"C'mon, you'll do great"

"But he's not here"

"Yeah, but I am, do it for me, can you play for me today Théo?"

"Ok, I'll play for you mom"

"Merci, ok now go"

He hands me his bag and waves at me, I wave back at him and give him a smile

I make my way to the stands and watch Théo, I pick my phone up and try to call Kylian again, maybe he can make it just in time before the second half, but it's no use it goes straight to voicemail again

The match starts and I put my phone away giving up on calling Kylian, I just want to focus on my son's match

The first half goes on and I see Théo look my way, then the empty seat next to me

He looks sad, angry and frustrated

The ref blows the whistle indicating that the second half has begun

Théo, sprints to the opponent and manages to get the ball

He passes it to one of his teammates then his teammate passes back to him, he dribbles past the defender and shoots the ball, then scores

He celebrates and points to me,blows a kiss towards me then makes a heart

I stand up and clap for him and he mouths "I love you mom"

I mouth back to him, "I love you too Théo"

By the 90th minute Théo's team has won 5-0 and Théo has scored 3 goals and assisted in the other 2

After the match he walks up to me and I hand him his water bottle

"Good job honey I'm so proud of you"

"Thanks mom"

I pick him up and he lays his head on my shoulder

"Can we please go home now"

"Ok, let's go"

I walk to the car and put him in the back seat, we then drive home in silence, and I'm occasionally glancing back to see him with a sad look on his face

"Théo"

"Maman?"

"Are you hungry?"

"No, I just wanna go home"

"Do you want to play FC24, when we get home?"

"No, I'm just tired, I think I'm going to sleep"

I give him a look that says really

"After I take a bath"

"Don't you want to spend some time with me, we can watch cars, or monsters inc., any movie you want to watch"

"Yeah, maybe after my nap"

"Ok, hey you know I was thinking maybe we can make cookies, do you want to help?"

"Not today mom, I don't think I'm in the mood"

"Ok, do you want me to help you with your bath?"

"No, I'm a big boy, I can do it myself"

"Ok"

The rest of the car ride is silent until we get home

Théo, gets out of the car and walks into the house while dragging his bag with him

I sigh and walk into the house and find his cleats and shoes placed neatly in the little shoe cupboard, usually I have to tell him to it, but today seems different

I go to the kitchen and get started on dinner

"Maman"

"Mhm?"

"Can you please help me"

I turn around, and see Théo struggling to take his shirt off

I slightly chuckle and walk towards him to help him

"What happened to the big boy?"

"He needs his mom's help"

"Clearly"

I help him take his shirt off then carry him to the bathroom, then open the taps making sure that the water is the right temperature for him, I then add his favorite bubble bath into the water, and he gets in

He puts some bubbles on his hair and starts playing with his bath toys

"What type of big boy plays with toys in the bath?"

"Ok fine, I'm still a small boy"

I chuckle and start bathing him, afterwards I wrap him up in a towel then carry him to his room and place him on the bed, and start taking out some clothes

He moisturizes himself then put on the clothes that I laid out for him

"Do you still want to take your nap"

He nods his head in a tired way and climbs onto his bed, grabs a thrower and lays his head on the pillow, I kiss his forehead and he smiles saying

"Thank you mommy"

"You're welcome Théo"

I walk out of his room and go back to the kitchen to continue making dinner

After 2 hours I hear the front door open, he's here

He walks into the kitchen and looks at me but I ignore his gaze

"Ça va, amour"

"Amour"

"Ma chérie"

He walks closer to me but i move away

"Lassie Moi" I say (leave me alone)

"C'est quoi le problème?" He asks ( what's the matter?)

"Ah bon, t'es sérieuse, Kylian" I ask ( really, are you serious Kylian?)

"C'est quoi c'est pas" ( what happened?")

"C'est ton fils, il est triste" I say ( it's your son, he's sad)

"Mais pourquoi" he asks (but why?)

"Pasque il son père" (because of his dad)

"Moi?" (Me?)

"Oui, toi" ( yes you)

"What did I do now?"

"So you didn't know that your son was playing today, after he told you two weeks ago and kept reminding you so you wouldn't forget"

He looks at me with shock, like I've just told him the most suprising news

"Mon Dieu, Kylian he even told you this morning before he went to school"

"He's match was today?"

I let out a frustrated sigh

"Where were you even, huh, and why was you phone going to voicemail everytime I tried calling you?"

"I was with Archaf, and I lost track of time"

"You lost track of time doing what?"

He's quiet

"What were you doing Kylian?"

"I was busy"

"You know what I don't even want to know, just get away from me"

"Where is Théo anyway"

"He's sleeping, he took a bath and went straight to bed"

I hear him sigh behind me

"I'm sorry"

"You're apologizing to the wrong person"

"Then I'll go and apologize to Théo"

"No he's asleep, don't wake him up"

"So what must I do then?"

"I don't care, just don't bother the child"

He goes upstairs and goes to our shared room, I the hear the shower taps, indicating that he's taking a shower

30 minutes later, I'm done making dinner and it seems Kylian is done taking his shower and he walks downstairs

I dish up 3 plates of food then go to the table and place them there

I then go upstairs to wake Théo up

"Théo"

"Amour"

He opens his eyes and looks at me

"Maman?"

"Ouies, c'est Moi amour, est que faim" (yeah it's me love, are you hungry?"

"Oui je faim" (yes, I'm hungry)

"On y va"(let's go)

I pick him up and we go downstairs,when we get to the dining table we find Kylian already there waiting for us, I place Théo in the seat next to me, where there's a plate of food

We eat dinner in silence until Kylian breaks it

"Théo"

"Papa"

"Je suis très désolé, mon fils"

"C'est bien papa"

"Ah bon?"

He nods his head

"But why were you not there, how come you didn't come to my match?" Théo asks with his voice slightly breaking

Kylian looks at me and I look at Théo

"I was busy" Kylian says

"With what"

"Théo, arrête ici c'est pas ton problème" (Théo, stop, this is not your problem"

"Ouies mais c'est mon problème" I say (yeah but it's my problem)

"Je travaillerai" he says ( I was working)

"Avec quoi?( with what?)

"Rien" ( nothing)

"T'es sérieuse, t'es fou ou quoi, t'es travaille avec rien?" (are you serious, are you mad or what, you were working with nothing?)

"Oui" he says (yes)

"You must think I'm an idiot"

"But I was working"

"Papa, s'il te plaît" Théo says (dad please)

"Théo, this is non of your business"

"Then why weren't you there?" Théo asks

"I was busy"(Kylian says)

"Théo, arrête je parle avec ton père, go to your room" I say ( Théo, stop, I'm talking to your dad)

He gets out of his seat and walks upstairs

"Are you serious, are you not going to tell me what you were so busy with that you had to miss your son's first match, after the injury he had?"

"All you need to know is that I was busy"

"Are you cheating on me?"

"What, no"

"Then what were you so busy with"

"Nothing"

"Fine, since you don't want to tell me, I'll be sleeping with Théo today" I say standing up from my seat, "you can sleep in the guest room or on the sofa, also do the dishes before you go to bed"

I walk upstairs and go to Théo's room

"C'mon, let's go" I say

"Where are we going?"

"To my room"

"Why?"

"You're sleeping with me"

"Can we watch movies and stay up all night"

"Yeah, we can"

"Can we start with Marvel movies"

"I was thinking the same thing"

We go back downstairs and pick out some snacks for the movie

"Not so many sweets Théo"

"Ok"

After picking some snacks and deciding what movies to watch, we go back upstairs to my room and put the movie on the TV

I tuck Théo into the bed and his tiny head sticks out from under the covers

"Maman?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Daddy going to leave us forever?"

"No, my love, he's not, me and your father are just having a bit of a disagreement"

"What's that?"

"It's when two people don't see eye to eye on something, but in the end they always work it out"

"You promise?"

"I promise Amour, now stop worrying about that and let's focus on the movie,ok?"

"Ok"

The rest of the night is spent watching movies till the early hours of the morning

Théo eventually falls asleep, cuddled up to me like I'm a teddy bear

I switch the TV off and kiss Théo's forehead and he snuggles into me, I close my eyes and fall asleep

[prettyinpurplelights]

hii ur writing is SOO SOO good im practically going insane over ur mbappe writings. could u pls write smth about mbappe being sick and reader having to take care of him but he's just enjoying being a brat and clinging to reader ? like imagine taking care of this manchild. imagine the HAVOC he would wreck if he didn't get a kiss from his gf

HOUR OF NEED

Heyy, thank you for your lovely words, means so much 🫶🏿 hope this is okay!

“You’re leaving me here all by myself? This is your fault.” Your boyfriend sniffles, pouting as you put on your jacket, ready to leave the house.

“I warned you about kissing me last week when I was sick.”

“But your mouth was so nice and warm.”

“And now here we are.”

“So you’re going to abandon me in my hour of need?”

“Kylian, it’s just a cold. You’ll survive.” You roll your eyes.

“I hope you know those may be your last words to me. Ever! Who knows if I’ll still be alive and breathing when you get back.” He shivers dramatically and you grab your bag, placing your phone in your coat pocket.

“I spent all day yesterday playing nurse Ky, I have to go to the office.”

“And you think if nurses just left their patients before they got better, anyone would recover?”

“You are a ridiculous man Kylian Mbappe. You have a runny nose and a high temperature, just keep hydrated and take your pills. I’ll see you at 6.” You reach over to kiss his forehead and he rolls over and pulls the covers high over his head.

“You don’t deserve to kiss me.” His voice his muffled under the blankets and you laugh.

“Whatever you big baby.” You call as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

————

“So if we push the campaign from this angle, I think the overall engagement would-“

PING!

Your phone buzzes for the hundredth time in the last 10 minutes since you started giving your pitch to the newest clients at your firm. You reach for your phone to turn it off, apologising profusely, when it starts ringing and you see your boyfriend’s face lighting up the screen.

“I’m so sorry, I just have to take this very quickly, I really apologise.” You hold your hands in a prayer sign before scrambling out of the office with the phone to your ear.

“Kylian, what the hell do you want.”

“Y/N…” his voices sounds strained and breathless, and you immediately begin to worry.

“Kyky? Baby what’s wrong?”

“I just…can you…” He coughs violently and you wince. He really doesn’t sound good, and you feel start to feel a little guilty for leaving him alone. “Can you…come home please? E…Emergency.” He croaks out that last part, as though he doesn’t have the energy to do anything else.

“Oh baby. I’ll be there as soon as I can okay? I’m sorry for not taking you seriously. I’m leaving the office as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” he breathes before hanging up abruptly and you think the absolute worst. Maybe it wasn’t just a cold, maybe it was something worse, and now he’s alone and confused and deteriorating. You head back into the conference room, chewing on the inside of your cheek anxiously.

“Everything okay Y/N?” Your boss asks.

“Yes, ummm, it’s just my boyfriend is really ill right now, and he’s just called me and he doesn’t sound too good so I’m a bit worried that’s all. But we can get this pitch finished up and I’ll go and quickly see him on my lunch break-“

“Kylian is ill?” He says, shocked as if you’d just told him his own mother on was on her death bed. “Oh no, you must go to him right away. We have the PowerPoint and your notes, Lisa can finish your pitch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes of course, I hope he makes a speedy recovery.”

“Thank you so much, and I really am sorry.” You disconnect your laptop from the hdmi cable connected to the project and slide it into your handbag.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N, please let us know how he’s doing tomorrow, you don’t have to come in if he’s still not feeling well.” He smiles. You thank him one last time before rushing out of the office and down to the elevator to the underground car park. You barely lock your seatbelt in place before hightailing it out of the building.

“Kylian!” You yell as soon as you make it back into the apartment. You drop your bag at the door and hurry up the steps, taking them two at time. It’s not long before you’re bursting into the bedroom. “Ky, baby what’s wrong? Have your symptoms gotten worse?” You sit on the bed, taking his sweaty face into your hands. “I’m sorry for leaving you baby.”

“You’re back.” He croaks.

“Of course,” you sigh leaning in to kiss him and he lets you this time. “What was so urgent?”

“I…the bistro is out of chicken soup and I really want some chicken soup, I was wondering if you could make some for me please?” You drop his head, and he falls back onto the pillow violently.

“Ouch!” He moans, rubbing his head.

“Kylian…” you close your eyes, your right hand pressing on the bridge of your nose. “Kylian, do not tell me you pulled me out of work because you want FUCKING SOUP!”

“I missed you too?” He pouts.

“Kylian! I was in an important meeting with my boss!”

“The one that’s the PSG fan? I’ll have someone send him some tickets to our next game, he’ll be fine.” You roll your eyes.

“Of course that’s why he let me leave the office without hesistation….but that’s not the point Ky!”

“Look babe, I’m sorry for making you leave work.” He doesn’t look sorry in the slightest and it pisses you off even more. “But I mean…you’re here now? So…”

“So???”

He opens his arms, his eyes wide as he smiles. “Come spend the day in bed with me.” You throw a pillow at him, landing in the space his open arms created, before storming out of the room.

“Where are you going?” He calls out.

“To make YOUR FUCKING SOUP!“ you shout back. “Tu es un putain d’idiot!”

———

You feel someone’s arms wrap around you as you’re stirring the soup and you shrug your shoulders.

“Get off me Kylian.” You mumble.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks, holding you tighter as he presses a kiss into your neck.

“Kylian Mbappe Lottin, I’m within an arms reach of very sharp objects. Get the fuck off me.”

“No.” He insists, burying his head further into your neck. “I want to hug you. I read somewhere hugs and kisses when you’re sick are very healing.” He moves from behind you to stand by your side, his arms around your shoulders instead, leaning forward with his eyes closed and lips pursed. You shove the teaspoon you were using to taste the soup into his mouth instead and push him off you as you untie your apron and place it on the work surface.

“You can keep your kisses. I’m not trying to get sick again.”

“You kissed me earlier when you came back?”

“Yeah when I thought you were on your death bed you manipulative man child.”

“Oh Y/N, come on!” He whines, stomping his feet. “I’m not a baby.” You look at his stomping foot and raise an eyebrow. He stops and his lips turn up in a little smile. “Okay fine, maybe I am a baby. But I’m your baby. And your baby is sick and needs you. He needs your kisses. Desperately or he might drop to the floor right now.”

“Drop. I don’t care, I’m not kissing you.”

“But I said I’m sorry!” He groans.

“And you’re forgiven. But I’m not kissing you. I don’t want to get sick again.”

“Actually,” he says, coming up to you as you reach into a cabinet above the sink to grab two bowls. “Since I caught this cold from you, it’s the same strain, and you can’t catch a cold twice with the same strain of virus. So you can kiss me as much as you want.”

“And since when did you become Dr. Mbappe.”

“I did some reading in the 3 hours you abandoned me.” You slide past him and start serving up the soup in the bowls.

“Good for you.”

He takes the bowls from you and sets them on the island before backing you up against the counter. The blanket around his shoulders falls to the floor as he rests his arms either side of you on the granite worktop, trapping your body between his.

“Just one kiss.” He whispers against your lips, his face barely an inch from yours. “Please. Just one.”

“Fine.” You press your lips against his lightly, ready to pull away but his hands cage your face, and he presses his lips harder against yours, deepening the kiss. You both pull away eventually breathless, your hand around his neck.

“Better?” You ask in a low voice.

“I’m cured.” He murmurs, before he suddenly recoils and sneezes all over your face.

“DUDE!” You shout, pushing him away as you reach for a tissue.

“Well, almost cured.” He laughs, stopping when he sees your stone cold expression, your eyes shooting daggers at him. You shove his bowl of soup into his chest and go to sit on the sofa with yours. You soon feel Kylian snuggle up next to you, lying down dramatically with his hand over his forehead.

“I suddenly feel weak and dizzy, I don’t think I can hold myself up Y/N.”

“What? You want me to feed you the soup now?”

“If you insist.” He smirks.

“You are unbelievable,” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too as you pick up the bowl and hold a spoonful to his lips.

“I also think a kiss in between each spoonful will really help speed up my recovery process.” He nods as he slurps the soup from the spoon.

“You know what, you should legally change your name to Mbaby.”

“Haha funny.” He retorts. He points to the soup, then his lips before opening his mouth wide. You intentionally put the bowl down and pull out your phone, flipping the camera to selfie mode and holding it up so both you and Kylian are in the frame simultaneously.

“Look at this big baby here,” You start, as you press the live option on your instagram. “Big boy Kylian Mbappe lying here while I feed him soup because he’s got a little cold he can’t handle.” Kylian reaches up to grab your phone but you leap from the sofa to the other side of the coffee table.

“Y/N, turn it off.”

“Oh look,” you say into the camera. “Suddenly he has the energy to get up. You should’ve seen him merely a few seconds ago guys, acting as though he had the plague.”

“Y/N, I’m warning you.”

You laugh as you read some of the comments from the fans on your live, getting louder as you see one from his teammate.

“Ky, Achraf said stop being such a pussy!”

“That’s it!” Kylian says before leaping over the table, but you’re a tad quicker than he is, dodging his lunge and making a break for it into the kitchen. “Cut the live Y/N, or I swear-“

“Or what?” You taunt, flipping the camera so it’s facing him as he stares you down from the other end of the island in the middle of the kitchen. You quickly slip through the door and up the steps before he can reach you, but Kylian proves himself to be one of the fastest men in the world once again because he’s grabbing onto your shirt just as you reach the top of the steps pulling you to the floor, his full weight on top of you as you raise your arm as high as you can out of his reach.

“Okay guys, I have to go, it’s time to feed baby Kyky his cough syrup.” You say just as Kylian grabs the phone out of your hand and turns it off.

“Looks like you’re suddenly feeling better hmm?” You tease, laughing.

“You…” He starts but his sentence trails and he pulls the blanket over his mouth before sneezing into it loudly. He sniffs, rolling over so he’s lying next to you, wheezing and breathless. “You’re so lucky I’m ill. Once this cold is gone, you’re dead.”

———

Tried to make it a bit fluffy, I feel like it probably wasn’t that fluffy aksjsksk enjoy ! <3

[brideofmbappe]

Chef's Kiss || Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x reader

Summary: A passionate encounter unfolds in the kitchen as Kylian comes home. You both share intense moments and proceed to the bedroom, leaving you both breathless and content.

Warnings: smut,cursing

As you stand in the kitchen, focused on cooking a delicious meal, you hear the front door open, and in walks Kylian, looking tired but happy to be home. He can't resist the sight of you in the kitchen, and without a word, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. You feel his warm breath on your neck, and a smile spreads across your face.

"Hey, you're home early," you say, leaning back into his embrace."Yeah, I couldn't wait to see you ange" he murmurs, planting a soft kiss on your neck. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you turn off the stove, giving him your full attention.

With a mischievous grin, Kylian lifts you up and gently places you on the kitchen counter. His hands move to your hips as he kisses your neck, and you moan softly at the feeling. "I miss this", he says looking in your eyes.  Kylian's hands begin to rub up and down your legs, sending shivers through your body. You reach up and grab the back of his head, pulling him closer to you.

Kylian moves his hands up and begins to unbutton your blouse. As he works his way down, he pulls it off exposing your lacy bra. Kylian cups your breasts in his hands, rubbing them lightly, making your nipples harden against his palms.

You arch your back, pushing your chest towards him. Kylian slips his hands under your bra, and slowly removes it from your body.

He leans down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it lightly. You close your eyes, letting out a low moan. Kylian switches between your nipples, leaving both of them wet with his saliva.

You push yourself against him, wanting more. Kylian slides his hand down your stomach, over your panties, and into your pussy. Your breathing becomes heavy as you start to grind your pussy against his hand. He starts to finger-fuck you, while continuing to suck your tits. You moan louder, and reach down to touch yourself. Kylian stops what he is doing, and looks up at you. "I want to taste you."

With that, he pushes you down onto the countertop, and pulls your skirt down. He runs his tongue along your slit, and you moan shakily. Kylian then moves his tongue inside you, fucking you with his tongue. You wrap your legs around his head, trying to get him deeper inside you. Kylian takes this as an invitation, and begins to thrust his tongue in and out of you.

He continues to eat you, until you finally come all over his tongue. He pulls away, and smiles up at you. "You taste so good amour," he says, licking his lips. You smile, and lean forward, kissing him deeply. Kylian picks you up again, and carries you upstairs to the bedroom. He lays you down on the bed , and yanks his boxers down to climbs on top of you. He kisses you passionately, and you can feel his cock pressing against your pussy.

Kylian slowly lowers himself onto you, sliding his cock inside you. You gasp at the feeling of being filled completely by him. Kylian begins to fuck you slowly at first, but soon speeds up, picking up speed. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

You can tell he is about to come, and you beg for him.Kylian grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, holding you still. You try to pull away, but he holds you tight.

You look into his eyes, pleading with him to let you go. He lets go of your wrists, and grabs your face, pulling you towards him. He moans into your mouth while fucking you. You stare into his eyes. "Fuck me harder Kylian!" you scream, and he does just that. He fucks you faster, and harder than before. You can feel your orgasm building as he grunts, and beg him not to stop.

"Please don't stop! I'm going to cum!" Kylian responds by pounding into you even harder, and you climax, screaming his name. After a few minutes, he collapses on top of you. He kisses you softly, and you lay there together, catching your breath. Kylian rolls over on his side, and pulls you close to him while grabbing your arse. "Fuck, that was amazing," he laughs.

[touteslespetiteschosess]

Is It Over Now? || Kylian Mbappé

Plot: Kylian and y/n have been fighting for so long, she's not even sure she knows what they're fighting for anymore. Angst.

Warnings: toxic relationship

Word count: 3458

Masterlist

y/n well done on your goal, amour x will you want dinner when you get home? i'm making myself some pasta so i'll do extra for you x do you know what time you'll be home? i've left some food in the fridge for you x kylian can you reply please? i'm worried it's getting late, where are you?

A deep frown was etched on her face, she stared at her ignored texts, the oldest sent five hours ago and the most recent nearly an hour ago. None of them had received a response and neither had her calls.

She hadn't been able to go to his match today, as she'd already arranged to go out for her friend's birthday in the morning. Kylian hadn't minded though, it wasn't a particularly important match and she rarely missed any of his games, so she could be forgiven for this. Surely that wasn't why he was ignoring her. Well, knowing him at the moment she could easily conclude that there was no reason behind the radio silence. He was just being Kylian.

Dick.

She knew he probably had no reason to ignore her; he was most likely just over at Achraf's and didn't value her emotions enough to dain her with a text back. Still, having been alone in the house for so many hours with only her thoughts to keep her company, she couldn't stop her mind from wandering. It only felt natural to pick up her phone and she really couldn't help herself from opening Instagram. Her thumbs had a mind of their own, opening one of his fan accounts.

Then there he was, grainy footage of him on their story at some club in Paris, surrounded by his teammates. And then there was somebody else. Some girl sat at his side- on his side more really- his arm flopped lazily over the back of the booth behind her.

She was saying something and he was laughing. He was laughing in a way that he never did with y/n anymore. Wow, he was really laughing- surely nothing she said could be that funny.

The video was short, maybe five seconds, but she restarted it, watching it again, feeling a fire raging within her. The next story was a photo that some stranger in the club had taken. The pair were on the dance floor, none of his friends were in sight now. Her hands were up in the air and only now did y/n notice the girl's outfit. She wore a little red dress, just like the one that hung up in y/n and Kylian's shared closet. It was his favourite dress and she knew it.

At the sight, the fire that burned within her suddenly settled, an eery calm setting over her. After a few moments, she headed upstairs and drew a bath, watching the water slowly rise up the tub's sides. She loved that bath; the tub was huge, yet elegant, and sat right in front of a huge window which gave the most amazing view of the Eiffel Tower. Besides that, she and Kylian had spent some memorable nights in this bathtub. Not for a while though, she thought.

Now that she really considered it, she wasn't sure how many good memories she had with Kylian in the last six months. Maybe after three years together, she'd just grown used to the knowledge that she loved him and hadn't considered if he still deserved it. Maybe she hadn't considered if he still deserved her.

Maybe she'd been so caught up in the idea of the perfect man she'd met in that bar three years ago. She still remembered that innocent smile so vividly, the way he'd lift his glass to sip, almost hiding behind the thing. How every time she'd flirt with him, he'd blush like a schoolboy, and then suddenly shoot back with the most outrageous comment.

How a month after they'd started dating, the pandemic hit, and he'd turned up at her door, much to her disapproval. Then, he'd immediately asked her to move in with him. She still remembered his words.

Take a chance. If we're gonna go down, let's go down in flames. I don't wanna forget you, baby.

That aged like room-temperature milk.

He'd convinced her so easily, his charming smile and smooth words always getting the best of her. And he'd been right. Those had been the best few months of her life.

And even after lockdown, when she was back at work and football became more full on, everything had just seemed so right. He just seemed so right.

Every time he'd go away for matches, he'd always find some stupid trinket to bring home for her. The tradition had started the week they'd met, when she'd asked him out on another date and he'd had to turn her down, as he was playing away in Italy. He'd brought her back a little keyring- a pizza with Italia written on it. It was so tacky and so cheesy that she immediately fell in love... with the keyring. Their fridge was still littered with far too many magnets to count, very out of place in his black and white, minimalist kitchen.

Of course, she remembered the first gift, and she remembered the first time he'd forgotten. It was after an away match to Manchester City. An away match that had knocked PSG out of the Champions League- in the semi-finals.

It wasn't that she'd been expecting a gift- no, she completely understood. It was difficult for him; he'd been injured and therefore couldn't play the second leg. He'd had to go all the way to Manchester and didn't even get to kick the ball. He just had to sit on the bench and watch his dream fade before his eyes.

Despite not playing, she knew he blamed himself. He always blamed himself. For the injury. For not scoring in the first leg. For everything.

At the time, she hadn't been upset that he hadn't bought her some shitty magnet for their already cluttered fridge or a bottle opener for their already stuffed drawer. Besides, Manchester didn't have much to offer in the tourism department besides football, so she could forgive him for not wanting to search through shops full of his opponents' memorabilia, just to uphold their tradition.

Looking back on it though, that was the moment he snapped. Three weeks later, he'd returned from Reims empty-handed; when she'd playfully questioned him, asking how she was supposed to sleep at night without an 'I &lt;3 Reims' t-shirt, he'd grunted something about being busy with work and she tried not to let her face fall, wishing he'd have just made some stupid joke in response.

Y/n, I can't afford to keep buying you all these presents.

Honey, nobody hearts Reims.

Well, I had some grapes for you but I got peckish.

But no, he'd just grumbled some excuse and gone up to their room. They'd won the game too. The last match of the season. Sure, they hadn't won the league but that fate had been sealed weeks ago.

Of course, at the time, she hadn't sat up at night, tossing and turning because her relationship was over. She'd understood. For him, she'd understood.

Then, the trinkets began to come every other away match, then once a month, once every few months, and then they stopped coming. The last remnant of their once-sacred tradition still sat on her fridge. He'd brought it back after an unremarkable league tie against Nice. A little magnet in the shape of a palm tree, in the colours of the French flag, with two words on it.

Trés Nice!

What did that even mean? Neither of them were sure. She loved it.

After that, however, the keyrings, and magnets, and bottle openers, and t-shirts, and pens had suddenly stopped. Not trés Nice!

The bath was full, the bubble bath she'd added working a treat. Slowly, she eased herself into the warm water, sighing as she settled back in the tub. She didn't even have her phone but she really didn't care. For what must have been an hour, she stared out the window at the city below her. From his castle, she watched his kingdom, knowing she didn't have a place in it anymore.

She stared at the dark streets they used to haunt, giggling hand in hand as they snook out of their apartment for late-night strolls (though it was always technically morning) down streets that at any other hour would be packed with hundreds of people, pointing at Kylian. Or when they used to go to tourist attractions in the middle of the winter and he'd pull on a balaclava, dragging her up the Eiffel Tower or the Champs Elysees, insisting her liked the thrill. In truth, so did she.

She liked standing hand in hand with him, knowing the crowds around them had no idea Kylian Mbappé was in their midst, and they never would because he was her Kylian. For that moment, at least.

It was late when she heard the door downstairs, the security system blaring loudly. She didn't panic, as it quickly turned off. He didn't say a word on his arrival. She could hear him drawing closer to their bedroom, his feet heavy on the stairs, in the hallway, in their room, approaching the bathroom door.

She thought he'd let his guard down when they first met, telling her his worries and fears, but maybe he only truly knocked down his walls that night in the bathroom months ago, showing his true self.

Maybe she only truly got to know him after Qatar, when he really snapped. When she'd tried to comfort him and he'd yelled at her because she'd never truly understand what he was going through. She'd told him she was sorry. She'd apologised. For what? She still wasn't quite sure.

Maybe she only truly knew Kylian when she'd been struggling at work, doing overtime to catch up on her ridiculous workload at home. She'd missed his match and he'd lost; then, when he returned home and she hadn't been in the mood for kisses and cuddles, he'd been furious. He'd said it was her fault she was stressed- she'd brought it on herself. She could quit her job any day and never worry about money again. She'd tried to explain but he couldn't comprehend her need for self-reliance. If anything, he was insulted that she didn't trust him enough to let him take care of her. He'd never been overly traditional or had an obviously fragile masculinity but that night she'd questioned everything she thought she knew about him.

Of course, he'd apologised the next morning and she'd forgiven him. They were both stressed and there was no reason to let one pressure-fueled spat escalate into more than it needed to. Then those one-off spats became more and more common until they were the norm. If they weren't in silence, they were fighting.

They only found peace when they were fucking. Even that physicality wasn't what it once was, no longer the same slow, gentle love-making. Now it was always quick, desperate, his once soft kisses now left bruises and his whispers of sweet nothings had morphed into wordless grunts and moans.

Is that all this relationship was anymore? Physical.

Light flooded the dimly-lit bathroom, as he swung the door open carelessly. He looked almost taken back at the sight of her, his eyebrows raising a little, as though he hadn't expected to see her here- in her own house.

Then again, maybe it wasn't her house. Sure, she'd lived here for almost as long as they'd been together but it was never really her house. It was Kylian's house in Kylian's city, and she was here too.

He stared at her for a few seconds before smirking, "Hey." he mumbled, already stripping down to join her.

She sunk further down in the tub, allowing the thick layer of bubbles to give her back her modesty. Silently, she watched him, her lips a flat line, her eyes on his face, not his naked body. He wasn't looking back at her. He was too focused on hastily ripping of his trousers and his shirt.

Without hesitation or any more words exchanged, he climbed in the tub and she leant forward as he slipped behind her. She wanted to be held in his arms just one more time, to feel his body against hers. He positioned his legs on either side of her, his arms flopping over her shoulders, as he pulled her back into his chest. Resting his face on her shoulder, he let out a noise, somewhere between a contented hum and a whine.

She ignored him, turning her head to stare out of the window. The city's skyline was dark and at this time, the tower's lights were off. Now, it was just a dark silhouette against a dark horizon, only made visible by the bright light of the full moon.

"What are you sulking about?"

As he spoke, she could smell the alcohol on his breath and she almost wretched at the scent. Her voice was calm and steady, as she asked, "Where have you been?"

Her voice sounded like she had an innocent curiosity in the question as if she didn't already know the answer, or she was merely asking to make small talk.

"Oh, some of the team wanted to go out to celebrate the win."

He didn't lift his head from her shoulder, placing a soft kiss on the damp skin. He lied with such ease. Well, he hadn't entirely lied, just withheld some important elements of the truth. Maybe she'd have preferred it if he'd just lied to her. At least then he would have had to make a conscious effort to deceive her. No, this felt so much worse; he spoke with such ease, as though it was the whole truth, and maybe he too believed it. Maybe he believed that she didn't need to know about the girl in the red dress, just like he'd believed she didn't need a text back, or a kiss goodbye before he left the house this morning, or a goodnight before she fell asleep last night or the night before that or the night before that.

"And who was that girl?" she asked, her voice still chirpy, not a hint of bitterness showing in her tone.

"Huh?" he twisted his head, the side of it on her shoulder, gazing up at her face.

"The girl you were with. She was in a red dress, like the one I have. Blonde hair and-"

"Oh," he cut her off quickly, "she's one of Ousmane's friends, I think."

"You think?"

"Mhm, I don't really know. I didn't speak to her that much."

Now, that wasn't a half-truth, that was simply a lie.

"Oh, okay. Just 'cause you seemed really friendly with her."

He scoffed, lifting his head, his tone suddenly switching, "What, were you stalking me?"

"No, but you didn't reply to my texts and you came home seven hours after the match finished, so I wanted to make sure you weren't dead in some ditch."

"Of course, I wasn't. Can I not have a night out with my friends?"

"Yeah, that's fine but you didn't fucking text me back and the next thing I see you've got some random girl in your lap at the club and you don't even have the courtesy to tell me about it."

"It wasn't like that! Why would I come home and tell my girlfriend that some nobody had been coming onto me in the club?" he snapped.

"Because you were coming onto her too! Don't you think I deserved to be warned that people were going to post pictures of my boyfriend with someone else! It's fucking humiliating!"

She stood up and climbed out of the bath, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. She quickly grabbed her robe from where it hung and wrap it around herself. She sat on the little ottoman in the corner, hugging her arms around herself.

"What are you saying? You know I wouldn't cheat on you!"

He yelled the statement as though it were a fact. Maybe he believed it. He seemed to believe a lot of things. Maybe he just didn't think about her perspective much.

"No, I don't! What reason have you given me to trust you?"

His face fell into an expression of fury, "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know, Kylian!" she almost yelled and almost sighed, somewhere in the middle, "I don't know. What are we even doing this for?"

"You tell me! You're the one picking a fight for no reason!"

"No, not this just... why are we here? We keep fighting and I don't know what for."

He stood up, "What..."

"I'm not happy! You're not happy! What's the point!"

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he rushed over to her, "I'm happy, of course I am!"

"Well, I'm not." she murmured, standing up from the seat and heading for the bathroom door.

"What are you doing, where are you going?" he asked, panic setting over him.

"Away," she muttered, heading to the closet.

"No, you're not." he declared, chasing after her, "Look, baby, I'm sorry, okay?" Ignoring him, she began to change into some joggers and a hoodie. "Y/n, you're not leaving me."

"Why not? All we ever do is fight! There's no point in us being together if we make each other fucking miserable!"

"I told you, you make me happy! You make me happier than anyone else in the world!"

"Why don't you treat me like it then? Why don't you treat me like I'm worth anything? Like I'm a fucking human being!"

He was quiet, watching her as she grabbed a bag and started to toss clothes into it. "Y/n, I love you. I-"

"Do you, though? Really?"

"I do. Look I know I've been busy with work but you know how stressful my job is. I'm trying to be here for you and do my best for the team-"

"No, you're not. I know how hard you work but I have needs too. I can't keep doing this."

She dropped to her knees, zipping up the bag, packed with enough clothes for a few days. He stood in the doorway, blocking her exit as she tried to get her toothbrush from the bathroom.

As she stood in front of him, he took her hands in his, "Please, baby, I'll change. I'll do it for you, I swear."

"It's too late, Ky," she said, shoving past him. He didn't budge, "Kylian, get out of my way."

He clutched her hands as though his life depended on it, placing soft kisses on both of them, "I need you. You can't leave me."

"You should have thought about that before, shouldn't you?"

She shoved him out of the way and grabbed a few things from the bathroom before heading for the front door. He chased after her, his mind racing and his heart pumping a mile a minute in his chest. He swore it was working so hard he could hear his heartbeat in his ears- or was it the sound of her feet on the stairs?

"Y/n," God, her name sounded so right on his lips, he wanted to say her name forevermore, "she meant nothing. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have entertained her like that." Tears were forming in his hazel eyes, he watched her putting on her shoes, "Y/n, you can't leave me, I love you. I- I don't want to live without you. I don't want to be on my own."

"Kylian," she stood up and cupped his cheek. Her hand was so warm and fit so perfectly around his face, as though it was moulded just for it, "you know I'll always love you."

Covering her hand with his own, he shook his head, a single tear rolling down his cheek, "Don't do this to me, amour."

She hated seeing him like this: he barely ever cried. In all of their time together, she'd seen him cry maybe four times and it had never been because of her.

Her soft thumb wiped away the tear, "Don't cry. You'll be okay."

Then she was gone. The door was open and then it was closed. She was there and then she was gone.

He watched the space she'd been stood in for far too long, as though she'd swing the door open at any moment and declare that she'd had a sudden change of heart. But she wouldn't.

She was gone. It was over.

Masterlist

[darlingmbappe]

Family Man | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: Your husband is feeling a bit nervous about staying home alone with your daughter for the first time. When you ease his worries, he thanks you the best way he can, but then surprises you with a big request.

Warnings: SMUT! Oral (female receiving), romantic sex, breeding kink, Kylian being a simp kinda, cussing, not checked for spelling/grammar errors. Let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

“Charlotte is finally down.” Kylian sighed from the doorway of your bedroom, trudging over to his side of the bed.

You smiled up from your novel as you watched him crawl on top of the comforter, laying his head on your arm and cuddling at your side. “She’s a piece of work, that girl.” You chuckle.

Kylian breaks out a grin, thinking about his wonderful three year old baby girl. “Wonder who she got it from…”

“Ha!” You set your book down on your lap, tilting your head down to look at him. “You’re joking. Kylian, You’re the biggest piece of work there is.”

He chucked into your shoulder and flipped on his stomach to be face to face with you, heavy leg comfortably draped over your thigh. “But you love us both.”

“So much.” You leaned over and kiss him sweetly, setting aside the now bookmarked novel on your nightstand. “Don’t know how I put up with you, though.”

“Well, you’re gonna get a little break from us this week.” He spoke and glances over at your packed suitcase sitting by the door. You sensed the tinge of nervousness in his sentence and put a reassuring hand on the back of his head.

“I’ll only be gone a week, Ky.” You comfort, tracing the structure of his brow bones gently with your forefinger. He leans into your touch, humming softly before burying his head in your neck. Clearly somethings on his mind.

“I know. It’s just…” he turns, wrapping an insecure arm around your waist to hold you closer, “I’ve never been alone with her for that long. Not for a week straight.” You scratched his back softly, allowing him to melt into you more. “I mean, what if she gets bored and I run out of things to do? Or what if she doesn’t like the activities I have planned for us? What if she breaks a leg or something on my watch?”

“Baby…” you coo, grabbing his chin between your thumb and knuckle so he’s look up at you. His big brown eyes showed his apprehensiveness, almost begging for you not to leave in the morning. “You know you’re an amazing dad, right?” He nods sheepishly, but you understood where this insecurity came from.

When Charlotte was born, it was at the beginning of the season. He did his best to take as many days off as he could, wanting nothing more than to be with you and his newborn baby girl. Though his efforts were much appreciated, you were still left alone with her many times, sometimes for days on end. It’s was through no fault of his own and you knew that, always reassuring him that you understood his responsibilities as a major world renowned athlete. Of course you’d love for him to be there with both of you 24/7, but it’s not something you would ever hold against him.

He was deep in thought and you could practically hear him overthinking the next seven days, coming up with every worst-case-scenario possible. “I was nervous the first time I was alone with Char, too.” You said softly. “It’s scary, I get it. But, I know you two will have the best time. Whatever you have planned, she’ll love it because she’ll get to do it with you.”

His lips curled up, staring back in adoration. “You think?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Of course. She’s so excited to be with just you. When I told her, it actually kind of hurt how happy she was.”

This made Kylians whole face break out in a wrinkled smile. “Yeah?”

Of course he loved that, his competitive nature trumping his sense of humility. “Oh yeah.” You grin. “She’s dying for some alone time with daddy.”

“And you?”

You furrow your brows. “Me?”

“Mhm.” He shifts to hover over you lazily. “You need some alone time with daddy?” The smirk he gave you sent a rush through your body.

Your arms wrap around his neck as he puts his legs on either side of you, nudging your nose with his. God, this man just has a way about him. The way he looks at you consistently makes your stomach erupt in butterflies, even after all these years.

“Cheeky, cheeky boy.” You tusk, leaning up only slightly, teasing a kiss on his wanting lips. “What does daddy have to offer?”

“Whatever you want. I’m yours.” He touched his forehead to yours, you slowly lifted your chin to touch your lips to his.

Starting off gently, he breathed in deep through his nose, savoring this moment. Having a toddler, it’s hard to find time to be intimate when they’re always around. Always.

But, it kind of makes the sex way hotter… way more anticipated.

He pokes his tongue in and you opened up immediately, suddenly desperate for some action. He began moving his hips over the thick duvet you laid under, giving himself some relief, but you needed that layer gone. You began tugging at it desperately, Kylian got the hint. He sat up, tossing aside the blanket and stared down at your sleep attire, humming to himself and licking his lips.

“You’re so sexy.” He grumbled, now looking at you with nothing except love and lust. Your hardened nipples poked through your white scrunched up shirt, displaying your lower half for Kylians pleasure. The pink cotton panties you wore had a little rose engraved on the front, sending your husbands brain into a spiral as he started crawling down your body involuntarily. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

He made it down to where you needed him, a gentle touch on you thighs opening your legs. You didn’t need much coercion from him, knowing the usual rhythm of this sort of thing. Being with him for so long meant you knew each other patterns and needs.

“I get a goodbye gift?” You teased once he situated himself between your legs, big hands moving your knees upward toward your chest.

Instead of responding, he placed a meaningful kiss to your covered core, looking up at you, wanting to watch every reaction he persuaded out of you. He stiffened his tongue, poking at your clit methodically before biting the fabric and clipping his thumbs underneath the seams. Slowly, he slid them over your legs, his eyes glued to how your pussy reveled himself to him, already glistening.

“I already told you, bébé. I’ll give you whatever you want.” He mumbled in a trance, only looking up when you whined at his lack of movement. “You gotta tell me, bébé. What do you want?”

“Don’t be a dick.” You poked with a pouty giggle, jutting your needy hips toward his mouth. He splayed his hands over your middle, holding you down. “Just eat me out, Mbappé.”

“Always so bossy.” He jeered, but lined his mouth up anyways, purposely blowing out a sigh on your pulsing core before flattening his tongue on you. Your eyes rolled back, keeping your moan quiet with a hard lips bite as he continued to work his muscle, lapping up and down, focusing on the bundle of nerves at the peak.

“Always taste so sweet, bébé.” He praised, dragging his fingers down your hips, feeling the goosebumps he’s creating on your soft familiar skin. The feeling of his lips moving against your cunt made you grip the sheets until your knuckles turned white.

You looked down at your husband between your legs, eyes closed, seemingly hypnotized and focused solely on pleasuring you.

Without warning, he poked his tongue in and out of your needy hole, making you gasp at the sensation. “Shit, oh god.” You gasp. A quick hand made it’s way behind his head, pressing him further into you. He stuck it in as far as it would go out of his mouth, circling and wiggling around, feeling your pulsating walls. He moved a hand from your hip and dragged his forefinger agonizingly slowly on your clit.

“Let me show you how much I’ll miss you.” He muffled, the vibration of his voice making you moan out.

“Please.” You begged, watching him with hooded eyes. His finger dipped lower and lower, tapping on your sensitive nub to make you jolt. It made him laugh, obsessed with the sight of you squirming under his touch.

He teased his middle finger in before inserting two inside of you. Kylian was always one for foreplay, eager to make it the best experience for the both of you. That’s so hot.

You were a moaning mess, hot and bothered as he curled his fingers up, his mouth attached to your pussy like a man starved. His eyes were now wide open and gazing up at you, your chest heaving, your back arching, your quiet moans singing in his ears like a melody. It was all too much for him as he began humping the bed in desperation. Getting to see what he can turn you into could have made him cum on the spot, but he wanted to cum inside of you. He needed to cum inside of you.

You whimpered when he detached his mouth, wiping his glistening face with the back of his hand. “You’re fucking amazing, mon amour. I love you so much.”

You’d gone off the pill years ago before you got pregnant with Charlotte and hadn’t gone back, relying on condoms and quick reflexes. You’d talked about having more kids in the future, but not recently enough to prepare you for what your husband said next.

“Let me put another baby in you.”

Your breathing was heavy, but it stopped for a moment out of shock. The look on his face was completely serious as he crawled up on top of you, lifting your shirt enough to reveal your boobs, tweaking your nipples between his fingers.

You swallowed the noises threatening to spill out of you throat, staring into the eyes of the man you’ve adored for so many years — the eyes that were practically heart shaped whenever he caught even a glance at you.

“Let me get you pregnant.” He repeated and dipped his head in your neck, trailing a soft path of kisses upward until he reached your mouth, lingering there a little longer. He leaned into your ear, giving it the gentlest bite before whispering. “Remember how I couldn’t keep my hands off of you?” His hands roamed down to your stomach, caressing it like he used to do. “You looked so fucking hot with my baby inside of you.”

You couldnt help but smile, feeling your heart beat faster for him. “What about the mood swings?” He kissed behind your ear.

“Don’t mind them.” He kissed your jaw.

“My feet swell pretty bad.”

He kissed your cheek. “I give great foot rubs.”

“Cravings?”

“I’ll get you anything you want.” He placed the last kiss on the corner of your mouth, pulling back to stare into your eyes, wiping away any stray hairs that fell onto your face.

You sighed up at him. “You think we’re ready?”

He finally landed his kiss on your lips, breathing you in like you were a drug. “I know I am. So, what do you say, bébé?”

Kylian was the worlds best dad and even had three Father’s Day mugs to prove it. He was attentive and loving and caring and wanted nothing but the absolute best for his family. For your family.

“Let’s make a baby.” As soon as those words left your lips he kissed you deeply. You both smiled into the kiss, attempting to pucker but failing, eventually just giggling into each other, hugging tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”He hummed, standing up and shedding his joggers and boxers, revealing the main attraction.

God, the way you salivated at the sight of him was almost embarrassing. You’d worried about what marriage would do to your sex life, especially after having a baby, but Kylian always made you feel so sexy. He flirted with you constantly, found every possible way to make you squirm. You found that the longer your with him, the more things you discover about him that make you adore him more. Want him more.

You adjusted yourself as he slotted above you, your legs wrapped around his middle as you traced his collarbone. The shift from how the night started to now made your head spin. You couldn’t believe that you’d decided to start trying again out of the blue like this, but knew in your heart that you wanted this too.

He lined himself up, prodding you open slowly to let you adjust to his massive size.

“Oh, fuck Kylian.” You breathe, grabbing his face sweetly as your eyebrows knit together. He loved the faces you made when he was inside you — missionary being his favorite position.

He moved his hips until he was all the way in, waiting for your cue for him to continue. It didn’t take long, it never did. When you nodded at him, he began thrusting, his pace slow as if every movement was personal and meaningful. You loved the stretch he gave you, feeling every ridge, every curve.

This type of sex is Kylians favorite. Sure, he’ll take you roughly, spank you until he can see a mark. He loved the feeling of having his hand wrapped around your throat, or thrusting into you with such speed and force that it makes your legs wobble the next day. But something about the steady pace, the perfect rhythm, the eye contact, holding your hand, getting to kiss you like it would transfer the love he kept in his heart to yours... getting to take you in piece by piece was the most thrilling thing he’s found in his lifetime. Having the pleasure of holding your hand, listening to your whimpers and quiet “ah, ah”s was like a drug. He was undeniably addicted to you. Obsessed with every inch of your being. He couldn’t think of a more personal way to show the woman he loved how much he means to him. No amount of money could buy this type of intimacy.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbles, reaching down to intertwine your hands, in need of feeling more of you. “I can’t imagine my life without you.” Your heart was melting at his words, his dilated pupils absorbing every inch of your face. His rhythm was hypnotic. Your needs begged for him to go faster, harder, to take you roughly… but your heart outweighed those thoughts. Though slow, it was the most romantic sex you’ve had in a while. “Cant believe I got you. I can’t believe I get to love you forever.”

He spoke sweetly, his breath fanning your face with his words and pants. The knot in your stomach tightened, making you squeeze your legs around his middle. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” You whimpered, somehow forming coherent sentences through the intense pleasure. “I love you, Kylian.”

He slotted his face in your neck, breathing heavier than before, hoping your skin would muffle the sinful moan that erupted from his mouth. His thrusts kept the same speed, but faltered slightly. “God, bébé. I’m gonna cum.”

You hugged him tightly against you. “Me too.” The feeling of his pelvic bone continuously rubbing against your clit and the slight tug and push of his member inside of you was consuming your every sense. “Fuck, Kylian.”

You dig your teeth into the skin of his shoulder or else you’d have screamed in pleasure, waking up the innocent little toddler just a few rooms down. The knot popped, making your toes curl, the bliss of it all creating spots in your vision. You came hard as Kylians thrusts continued at a slightly faster pace.

He kissed your cheek, seeking his own release — it didn’t take long to find it upon feeling your walls quivering around him. “Ah, dieu.” He moaned. “I’m cumming.” He panted, hissing and squeezing your hand as he looked into your hooded eyes. He bit his lip hard to keep quiet, breathing harshly through his flared nostrils.

He came down, his arms giving way as he laid on top of you to catch his breath. He hugged you so close, kissing your lips sweetly. He lifted himself to stop crushing you, matching your smile before he began to slowly thrust again.

“Shit, Ky!” You whisper yell, gasping at the overstimulation.

He hissed but continued his movements. “Gotta make sure it sticks, bébé.”

After three more thrusts, he stops and pulls out of you gently, laying his exhausted body next to you. He dipped his hand down and held yours, bringing it to his face to kiss it and kept it held at his lips. He looked at you as if you were a queen, a goddess.

“You think Char will be happy if we give her a baby brother or sister?” You wonder, laying on your back because you read that staying there for fifteen minutes after sex heightens your chances of getting pregnant.

“I don’t know… eventually. I think she loves being spoiled.” He grinned. It was true, Charlotte squealed every-time Kylian got home with something for her. Whether it was cupcake or a a tiny Tiffany necklace, she loved getting gifts.

“And who’s fault is that?”

Kylian made a guilty whatever face. His favorite thing in the world was getting to spoil his petite princesse.

Kylian places your hand on his chest, just above his heart. The stare he gave you was weakening, dibilitating, so full of raw emotion. You felt it thumping under your palm, knowing he meant that his heart was in your hands. You leaned over and snuggled into his side, kissing his cheek and keeping your hand on his heart. His heart rate picked up instantly, earning an earth shattering, lovey dovey grin from you.

Whatever the future holds, the family you’ve created with Kylian stands on strong pillars of love and loyalty. Having someone who you can trust blindly is the key to a life full of wonderful moments, and Kylian takes on that role with pride — absolutely devoted to creating the happiest life for his two princesses. You and Charlotte really are the luckiest girls alive… and with the possible addition of another family member, you might just get even luckier.

A/N: wrote this between classes today to give y’all a little something because my school is nearing midterms so I gotta crack down with studying. Thanks for reading! Also I didn’t spell check or grammar check this very thoroughly so I apologize for any mistakes <3

[blossom-works]

Power Couple

Request (anon): Hiii!! How are you? Can I ask for a kylian request where both the reader and him go on Ridiculousness and it’s just all fluff and jokes, thanks anyway

Thank you for your request! I had to tweak your submission since I don't think Kylian would allow his s/o on a platform like that for privacy's sake. I do hope that I made you proud with this though!

---

About a month ago, you and the board of your hospital agreed that it would be best if you quit your job. Now, why would you quit a job you absolutley loved doing? The reason why both parties agreed to it is because while you were on maternity leave, someone found out you worked at the hospital and told the world. People started coming to (and sneaking in) the hospital just to snap a photo or a short video of you. Some even harrassed you. It got so bad that the safety of the staff, patients, and actual visitors came to the surface.

When you told Kylian about this, he was furious. He took it to his social media and posted a statement saying that he was disappointed with his "fans" behavior. Kylian also said that he would be taking the threats and harassment towards you to court. "I do not take the safety of myself or my family members lightly. All threats and harassment made towards my wife maliciously or jokingly, will be investigated by my legal team."

You cried for days after you left your job. You truly loved it and the kids there. Kylian even asked to take a day off practice to make sure you were okay. Since then, you have been distracting yourself by being a stay-at-home mom. You loved it. You love being able to take care of your child 24/7. In fact, you took pride in it. When Matthew was old enough, you and Kylian enrolled him in daycare. It would be good for him to socialize with babies his age and people who are not you or Kylian. You hated being home alone with no husband or kid to dote on. It was just you and that big ass house.

You brought this to Kylian and you both came up with a solution. Fayza, your mother-in-law, is working on a project for Inspired by KM and she could use your help. You immediately accepted Kylian's proposal and the next week, you were working alongside your mother-in-law. Your first day was pretty easy, just reviewing the project itself and adding your little details. The following days were more hands-on work. You even had to do a small interview with Fayza about the project.

To say that you were nervous was an understatement. You are grateful that Fayze was there to take the lead when you stumbled here and there. While in Bondy, you met the kids there and did so many fun activities with them. From cooking and baking to playing a game of football with them. At that time, the targeted demographic did not know that you were Kylian's wife, but now, people know that Kylian's wife is supporting her husband through his organization.

Now, you are confident when doing your interviews. You added a lot of value to the organization that you ended up being named "director". A position that sits just under Kylian. You even have your own secretary! French news media went wild about how much of a power couple the two of you are. When you were given the position of director, Kylian threw a huge party to celebrate. The more projects you push out in Inspired by KM, the more your face gets recognized. You transferred the knowledge you gathered while working at the hospital and inserted it into Kylian's organization.

You and your family traveled to France a few days ago because you and Kylian have to do an interview there to talk about the latest project of Inspired by KM. Kylian's parents will be at the family home so they can watch their almost one-year-old grandson.

The two of you agreed to stick to a neutral-colored wardrobe. Kylian is wearing a white button-down and black slacks with some loafers and as always, donning a HUBLOT watch. You chose to wear something a little more dressy. A back shirt and blazer with a pair of beige, velvet pants and nude heels. You tied your hair in a low bun and are wearing an Olivia Burton watch Kylian got you for your first anniversary. Quite the power couple look indeed.

(Bold dialect will be in French)

"Mrs. Mbappe, it's well known that you joined your husband's organization because you lost your job at a Spanish hospital. How was that like for you?"

Ah, a question you have heard and answered a dozen times before.

"It was hard. I loved my job but the board and I came to a mutual understanding and agreement. Both parties agreed that it was no longer about whether or not I should keep my job, but it was about the safety of the people who worked and were administered there."

The interviewer nods and writes down a couple of notes. He then asks Kylian how he felt about the situation. Kylian just said that he was angry for you and did what he could to protect you. He calls the incident a blessing in disguise because you have done so much for his organization, and it has made the two of you closer as a couple.

"You gave birth in the fall of last year, correct? Has motherhood clashed with your duties for Inspired by KM?"

"No, it hasn't. I'm thankful for my husband's resources that allow me to work with Inspired by KM. Motherhood has made me a more nurturing woman which helps with my job at KM."

Again, he nods and writes down some notes. The interview so far is a bit redundant. His questions have been questions you have answered before, just worded differently. It does not help that the interview is a live one (with a live audience), so you cannot make any signs that show your disinterest.

"So, the recent project Inspired by KM was actually partnered with UNICEF. Can you tell me how that happened, Mrs. Mbappe?"

Finally! A question about the project that was recently launched.

"Certainly! I have always admired the work that UNICEF does and our missions align. One is just more global than the other. I shared my desire to expand KM's reach to children all over the world with my husband and our board at KM. Everyone came to an agreement and I wrote a proposal partnership to the general director of UNICEF."

"Why did you agree to it Kylian? Other than it being because your wife wanted to."

"When my love first brought the idea up, it was just the two of us. She had already come up with the project's structure and it was all very detailed. It wasn't just something she came up with on a whim. My wife did her research because she truly wished to make the project a reality. She was very passionate. She was still passionate when she proposed the idea during a board meeting. My wife supports me by cheering for me in the stands when I'm playing, and she supports me by working for my organization. I agreed because I want to support her."

The audience watching clap for Kylian's response. They even hollar when you kiss Kylian's cheek in appreciation. You are so glad that you are wearing makeup that hides your blushing face (besides the actual blush used).

"I want to bring attention to this projection screen here." The interviewer motions to the object. The projection turns on and a video pops up. The play button is clicked and when the first frame comes on, you hide your face into Kylian's shoulder in embarrassment. He too hides his face in your hair in embarrassment.

What on earth is being displayed to make you and Kylian want to hide from the world? It is a video of you and Kylian carelessly dancing in the office building. To destress the two of you, Kylian put on some music and coerced you to dance with him. Neither of you realized that Wilfried recorded the moment.

In the video, neither of you cares to observe your surroundings. Heck, one part of the video shows Kylian trying to twerk to the beat of the music. The room fills with laughter and you and Kylian are trying your best to shrink yourselves. Oh God! This entire interview is being broadcast! - Live!

Thankfully, the video stops at one minute and the torture is over. Takes a couple of seconds for the laughter to die down which does not help with your embarrassment. You are pretty sure your blushing face is showing through your makeup, but you can only know when the videos and photos of today come out. You lift your head off of Kylian's shoulder and fan your face. Kylian is busy wiping the tears of laughter and pain away from the corner of his eye.

"Well, it seems like the two of you do a great job at supporting each other." The interviewer coughs out. "In all seriousness, it's great to see two busy people such as yourselves enjoying the small moments in life. It's relatable and I believe it brings a positive message to people that they should have fun when they can."

Your husband speaks up. "I agree. It's like with football. I have to be serious when I'm on the pitch but when I'm off, I can have some fun and enjoy life. Enjoy the life I have with my wife." Kylian reaches over and holds your hand in a tight grip. He brings the back of your hand to his mouth and plants a firm kiss on it. The star athlete is never big on PDA. He always finds a way to hold onto you though. It could be hand holding or putting his hand on your waist or the small of your back. The most PDA Kylian will do is a kiss on your head or a small peck on the lips.

For the remainder of the interview, Kylian never let go of your hand. The two of you had to stay an hour or two after the interview to do some fan service (mainly Kylian). Many of his fans came up to you and asked how Matthew was doing. It warms your heart to know that there are people who you do not know, who care about your small family. You tell them how Matthew is a wiggle worm and how he loves to eat squash. He hates tomatoes and is unsure about cucumbers. Bread and cheese though, Matthew would live off of it if he could (French genes amirte).

A little far from you, you think you hear someone asking Kylian if he can teach them how to twerk. Your husband persistently declines the request that was clearly made to poke fun at him. Gosh, that video is going to haunt him forever, huh? Mentally, Kylian sarcastically thanks his father. The day was eventful for the two of you. Over the course of a few months, you have learned how to see the blessings in the curse. You found a way to help children not just in your community, but to the children spread across the globe.

---

Hope my little newsletter isn't too cringy or pathetic

[photmath]

It Was Never Us | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Summary: You had finally had enough.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: ANGST, ANGST, cursing, time jump, lots of dialogue

Note: I reluctantly apologize. I rushed to get this out in time before the semester started so if there are mistakes, I do apologize for that.

FOUR YEARS AGO

It has been three times now. Three times that Kylian had forgotten about your biweekly date night. Three times that you were left feeling like a complete failure. Three times you were left questioning yourself what you did wrong.

The first time he had forgotten about it, he made it up to you by taking you out the next day. The second time: he had made plans with Neymar that day, said that he got the days confused, you just said that it was fine. You weren’t in the mood to argue that day—especially because your team had a bad loss—a match he hadn’t even bothered to show up to, let alone text you ‘good luck’ or ‘sorry about the match.’

But today, today was different. It was the anniversary of your four-year relationship. He said he had the night handled a couple of weeks ago, and that all you had to do was ‘dress pretty.’ You weren’t able to double check with him because of his away match yesterday. He was flying in today and then was going to attend a rehab session to loosen his tight muscles.

He had promised he wouldn’t be back home late.

However, it had been almost four hours past the time he was supposed to come by and pick you up. So now, you are just fed up.

He hadn’t mentioned anything about the anniversary date or your plans. Let alone a text message saying ‘Happy Anniversary.’ You thought maybe he was planning an elaborate dinner, that that was the reason why you hadn’t been sent your favorite flowers or even a call.

Your phone dings again. A timer you had set for yourself to start winding down for the night because you had a big match tomorrow—Women’s Championship League—against Chelsea.

Standing in the kitchen in your heels, dress still on, you couldn’t take your eyes off your phone: a video of Kylian at a restaurant with Neymar and some of his other teammates. He wasn’t doing anything bad, but he was just there. Never did he mention to you that he was going out tonight. The video had been taken over an hour ago.

You don’t even feel angry. You feel embarrassed. Humiliated. But you don’t let those emotions consume you, instead you start packing a set of clothes in a large traveling purse you have. You weren’t going to stay here tonight, you couldn’t.

As you zip up your bag, satisfied with the items you packed, you go back to make you some type of dinner. You hear the front door unlock and you let out a breathy sigh to calm down your feelings as he walks in.

He glances at you, and then does a double take, his head tilting, “It’s a bit late to go out, ma chérie, don’t you think?”

You cross your arms in front of you, Kylian’s confused expression only growing. You give him a calm smile, “You tell me.”

“What do you mean?” He sets the training bag he took this morning on the dining room chair. He props his elbow against it.

“What’s today?”

His cheeks warm suddenly, his mind juggling through birthdays and anniversaries. He stills. His shoulders slack as he rubs his face, “Fuck, fuck, chérie, I’m so sorry—”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. I’m done, Kylian,” you say. Your voice is so eerily calm that it makes him worry.

He looks at you, his eyebrows raised, “What?”

“I’m done.”

“No, chérie,” he walks towards you in a couple of strides. His arms are reaching out for you but you swipe them away. Your heels clack against the marble tile as you walk past him. “Let me make it up to you.”

You let out a laugh, “I can’t believe I wasted this time with you.”

He’s shaking his head but you can’t see him frantically following your pace up the stairs, “Don’t say that, mon amour.”

“You haven’t remembered shit, Kylian!” you whip your head to face him. His face is only guilty and full of shame. “I can’t even remember the last time we cuddled, let alone held hands.”

You knew juggling between matches of you and him, time got stretched impossibly. But the times you were home, Kylian used to never take them for granted, neither did you. The both of you would cherish one another whenever in each other’s presence. Always communicating, loving one another, and supporting each other at games if time permitted.

But then the World Cup happened. You had the time to go to Russia and you and Kylian had the best time there despite you only being able to see him after his matches. His popularity and recognition skyrocketed. He was on everyone’s mind and you couldn’t be any more proud.

However, that was the turning point in your relationship. No longer were you guys able to go on weekly dates comfortably—not with Kylian’s new status. He would have to rent out restaurants or you two would get bombarded. It turned to every other week because it got exhausting trying to make time with him at a restaurant.

Kylian’s hands fumble on the rail, clutching onto them. His eyes tear away from yours and you scoff, continuing up the stairs. His steps heavy and fast, “Chérie, wait.”

“I waited for four hours, I’m done.” You grab your bag and sling it on your shoulder.

He gawks, “Done with what?”

You look up at him, “Done with this. With you and your unkept promises.”

His face falls again and he stops walking closer to you, scared that any move towards you will only push you away. He says, “No, can we just talk about this please?”

“Sure, Kylian, we can talk,” you indulge, your voice laced with sarcasm.

He frowns, his mouth opening but he says nothing. He scratches his neck, searching for words, “I—I’m sorry.”

Your hand teases off the engagement ring from your finger, setting it down on the dresser you and Kylian share. Kylian’s heart squeezes at the sight of you. He can’t stop himself from walking to you, “Wait, please.”

You stand there, eyeing him quietly. His eyes are darting back and forth between your bare finger and the ring. “Don’t do this. Not right now, you have a game tomorrow. What—what did I do wrong? I’ll fix it, chérie, I promise. I’ll fix it.”

His hands find yours and you let him. You had already made up your mind and you weren’t going to change it. You couldn’t keep doing this each time.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” you say and his eyebrows furrow. “You’re not the man who proposed to me on my first ever professional football field that I played on. You aren’t the person who used to rent out restaurants for me without hesitation if I said I was craving something.

“You kiss me when you come home but you don’t talk to me. You don’t ask how my day was or tell me yours. We don’t cuddle. You don’t even go to my games anymore so I’m surprised that you remembered tomorrows. And you’ve missed our date nights for the past months, and I’m so tired of it.

“I’ve done everything. I’ve gone to every game I could possibly make and cancel plans with my friends to make sure we have our date night. I’ve talked to you and told you if something is wrong, like how you have told me to do. We talk it out and we’re usually fine, but this—this has been going on for so long now, that it started off small and now it’s just grown.”

Your eyes search his and they’re stuck frozen staring at you, taking in your words. You pull your hands from his and he doesn’t fight them to break away.

You clear your throat, “I stopped complaining because I didn’t want to be that bitchy fiancé everyone complains about, but no, I will not settle with someone who is no longer the person I love. So I’m done. I’m not going to marry someone who forgets or gets too comfortable in their relationship that they stop entirely and can’t even realize it.”

He steps in front of you, halting your movements, his voice shaking “Give me one more chance and I swear it will be the last. I swear on everything.”

“You can’t keep promises.”

You move around him but he’s quick to step in front of you again. His hands desperately clutching for yours, “Wait—we��ve been busy these past few months, okay? I think we’ve both been exhausted—”

You shake your head, “Don’t say ‘we,’ Kylian. I have given you everything even when I was tired. That’s the difference between you and I.”

He nods quickly, “Okay, me! I have been exhausted lately that I just haven’t been thinking right. I haven’t loved you the way I should’ve. I haven’t given you the attention nor the time that you deserve. I did get comfortable, okay, yes, I admit to that and it’s my fault.”

You adjust the bag on your shoulders, “It is.” You move past him and walk down the stairs. “Even if you had texted me I probably would’ve let this slide, but to go out tonight, seriously?”

“I forgot,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, I know you wish to hear something else—” the both of you stop in the kitchen. His breath hitches, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t keep our promises.”

You take in the view of his face. He’s completely deflated and you wish that brought you joy, but it doesn’t. You want to wrap him in your arms and put your ring back on, saying that you were overreacting but you don’t.

Just a few months ago the two of you were celebrating his twentieth birthday, and then a few months afterward he was proposing to you. The face he wore that day, so full of joy and excitement of what the future held. A stark contrast now.

He frowns, tears welling up in his eyes. A shaky sigh escapes his mouth, “I love you.”

You blink away the tears that threatened to pool, “I love you too, Kylian, that’s why I have to do this. I don’t want to hold myself back—I mean I have a fucking final to play tomorrow and here I am still awake. I can’t keep doing this anymore. I don’t deserve to be second in your life. I hope you find the person that you—”

He cuts you off, “Don’t say that.”

“I wish you all the best and success.”

He closes his eyes, nodding. Somehow him not looking made you walk out easier. And once you finally made it to the elevator, you leaned against the wall and bawled into your hands. Your sobs rattled the entire elevator.

------

PRESENT

“Holy shit,” Sergio mutters. Kylian’s eyebrows furrow next to him, Hakimi across from him leans into the iPad Sergio carries.

“On our PSG?” Hakimi asks.

“There’s only one féminine team,” Sergio replies.

“What’s up?” Kylian perks his head up.

“Y/N Y/L, she just got transferred here.”

Hakimi’s brows furrow, “Woah, her name sounds so familiar.” He flicks his fingers, “Agh! I know it, it’s right there.”

Kylian freezes, dropping the band he and Hakimi were using to stretch. It goes swinging to Hakimi and he winces as it makes contact with his chest.

“Really, Ky?”

Kylian ignores him, walking towards Sergio, examining the article.

The headline reads, “Star Defender is Coming Home!”

Sergio beams, “She’s really good. Marquinhos told me about her…”

He keeps talking but Kylian doesn’t register his words. He’s still fixated on the images of you, you wear a happy smile in your FC Barcelona uniform in one of them, and then in the other you hold a PSG jersey up. You had just been on a stellar season, he knew, of course he had known.

He kept up with all of your games since the two of you had broken up. He had tried to follow you on social media, but watching you play and seeing you up close on his phone, he couldn’t stomach both. He was so glad to see you doing well on Barca that he couldn’t comprehend why you would want to leave them.

Sergio furrows, thinking the same thing, “I wonder why she’s leaving.”

Hakimi shrugs, “I guess we’ll have to just ask her when we see her tonight.”

“Tonight?” Kylian croaks.

He nods, “The exhibition match tonight against the women’s team.”

Kylian eyebrows raise, “That’s today?”

“We were just talking about it,” Sergio says. “How did you forget?”

Kylian, still in shock, “No, I know it’s today. I just…I don’t think she’ll be playing tonight.”

Hakimi chimes, “Maybe she’ll just watch, but no she’s definitely here.”

“How do you know?”

Hakimi and Sergio both furrow their brows at their teammate. His sudden different behavior was not going unnoticed. Sergio lets out a nervous chuckle, “This picture is from today, Kyks. Are you okay?”

Kylian scoffs and then lets out a restrained chuckle, “Of course.”

Sergio nods at him hesitantly and then scrolls down to read the article. Kylian watches as his eyebrows furrow and his heart screeches as Sergio reads it aloud, “‘She’s expected to play in tonight’s exhibition match, and it will definitely be a sight to see her and Kylian Mbappé on the same field. Just four years ago, the two of them were expecting to tie the knot, but suddenly called it off, breaking the hearts of many of their fans…’”

Heat pools around Kylian as both of them look at him. He fixates his eyes with one of the medicine balls that lay some feet in front of him, not daring to look at the two of them.

Hakimi nudges him, “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

Kylian coughs, “We didn’t work out.”

“You fucked it up?” Sergio asks. His voice is blunt.

Hakimi speaks again, “So you were just never going to say that you had a whole fiancé at one point?”

Kylian sighs, “Yeah, I fucked it up, and it’s not something I’m proud of, Achraf, why would I tell you that?”

He shrugs, “I mean, I could’ve helped you or something.”

“It was four years ago, we didn’t know each other by then. Can you guys please just not say anything? We don’t talk about this anymore,” Kylian’s voice is firm.

Sergio and Hakimi glance at each other, their faces betraying Kylian. Kylian lets out a sigh and shakes his head.

Hakimi talks first, “How long were you guys together?”

Sergio then: “This is an engagement though, how could you have stayed quiet this whole time—”

Kylian rolls his eyes, “It was an engagement. Not anymore—”

“Did you cheat?” Sergio asks.

He groans loudly, “God, no. How could you say that?”

Sergio shrugs, “I mean four years ago was what…2019? You had to still be clouded from the World Cup.”

“I didn’t cheat on her, okay?” Kylian knows he can’t walk out of the session no matter how badly he wants to, so he rubs his face and plops down on the floor, stretching out his hamstrings. Luckily, the three of them were a bit far from the rest of his teammates, so they couldn’t hear much of their discussion.

Hakimi nods his head, “So you did something worse?”

“Like stopped showing up?” Sergio guesses.

Kylian suddenly hates himself for befriending two people who are already married—and Sergio was years into his happy marriage.

“Or, forgot something?” Sergio guesses again.

Hakimi groans, “Never forget a birthday.”

“Or an anniversary. I have my phone set to remind me months before.”

Hakimi laughs, “That’s smart. Kylian?”

He sighs, “I forgot our date nights…and our anniversary. And stopped showing her affection.”

Both of them quiet down. Kylian had yet to cool himself from the prior nerves he got from when Sergio first said your name, and their laughter-turned-to-silence wasn’t helping.

Sergio furrows, “You just threw her to the curb?”

Kylian looks at him, angry with his choice of words. He then looks at Hakimi and Hakimi looks disappointed. His face reminds Kylian of how someone feels when their younger sibling’s hearts have just been broken. Full of protection for someone he had never met.

“I didn’t mean to, but yeah, our lives got hectic months after the World Cup…that I just lost it. I couldn’t manage my time, everything was moving so fast. Dates were coming up before I even realized it, and then she was gone.”

The two of them are quiet again, Hakimi definitely couldn’t relate and Sergio was searching for some good advice.

Sergio coughs, engulfing the silence, “You were just a kid at that time, Kylian. Your recognition exploded and you didn’t know how to manage it. I wouldn’t place all the blame on your shoulders if I were you.”

Kylian shakes his head, “It was my fault though.”

“And the worlds,” Hakimi states.

“You young guys don’t know how to handle it until it happens,” Sergio advises. “You guys will think you do, but you don’t. Everything moves fast after you blow up, but you can never forget about the people who stayed by your side.”

Kylian nods absentmindedly. The advice would’ve been helpful four years ago, but he listens either way.

“Head up, you have a girl to catch,” Sergio says, getting up and patting Kylian’s head as he passes him.

------

Kylian wishes Sergio’s words didn’t give him a surge of encouragement because here he was rehearsing the speech he was going to tell you once he got the time. He cringed as he thought of it. What was he even supposed to say?

Warm-ups had gone swiftly. He had seen you warming up from afar and the glimpse of it alone had his heart faltering between beats.

He knew that you would probably have to defend him, so it made him nervous thinking about you so close to him. The closest the two of you had ever been in four years.

The sound of the whistle was the only thing that got him out of his mind. He had a performance to put on. One that he knew would be cut short by half-time to let the youngsters play, so he had to give it his all since the stadium was sold out.

He tried to keep his gaze off of you, knowing that he would probably freeze and choke up the moment you looked at him.

Seeing Hakimi get the ball back, he knew it was time to start sprinting. He sprints around you, nearly tripping on his feet as the smell of your shampoo swarms his nose. It was still the same smell.

He hadn’t realized you were so close to him. He sprints down the line, and you’re following him.

You couldn’t lie and say that you wanted to throw up, seeing him now brought back all the memories of the two of you. And the funny part was that only the happy memories were the ones you remembered and thought of the most. You didn’t think of the bad parts—not that fast at least—until you had to remind yourself why the two of you didn’t work out.

He gets the ball passed to him, but he has to go through you first to get in a cross. He can’t help but to smirk, a nervous laugh escaping his mouth before he can even comprehend that you stole the ball away from him. You kick it to your teammate, slowing down to a jog. You feel him jog beside you.

“Good ball,” he says, jogging past you. His voice sends you chills. He turns around to face you and a ghost of a smile litters his face.

The game goes on. You and Kylian interact only briefly. When he sprints past you and you know there is no way to catch up to his speed, you let out a groan. He’s chuckling as runs past you and you have to fight back a grin.

The halftime whistle blows and you walk to the locker room, a smile finding your face as you clap hands with your new and some familiar teammates.

You find your way to the restroom, having already heard your coach’s words and line up changes. The restroom in the locker room was crowded so you decided to go to the one down the tunnel.

“Hey,” a voice calls out and you freeze. Of course he was waiting for you. You turn around slowly, Kylian already wearing his wind breaker as he gives you a nervous smile, “Are you playing the second half?”

You shake your head, still shocked at how much he’s grown and his presence. “No.”

Kylian motions his head to an elevator, “Want to come up with me?”

“I should probably tell my coach.”

He waves it off, “I already told him.”

You raise your eyebrows, “What?”

“Let's go upstairs to the media box, I want to talk.”

You almost want to laugh at his bluntness. Your eyebrows are raised, “Kylian.”

He walks towards you, his walk full of confidence as a smile tugs on his lips, “What?”

“I don’t think that’s a good look from me to my teammates.”

“They think you’re with Sergio Ramos right now talking about defense strategies,” he laughs. The sound of his glorious laugh and the crinkles besides his eyes almost make you want to hug him. Almost. After all, this was still the man of your first everything since you were sixteen.

“He’s in this too?” You ask.

He nods, “Just come on.” He presses the button for the elevator, holding the door open as it opens immediately. He holds out his hand for you with a growing smirk.

God, did he look so handsome. That glint in his eye used to make you so weak in your knees and it wasn’t failing now.

You grab his hand and the touch makes your nerves radiate throughout your arm and hand. You silently hiss and his eyebrows twitch but then it goes away. He had felt it too.

The elevator closes and he grins, “Welcome back.”

“Thank you,” you say, stuffing your hands into your windbreaker. You were suddenly glad that you decided to change completely because Kylian still had on his grass stained shorts and socks. You stifle a chuckle.

“It was fun beating you,” he snickers. He settles into the corner of the elevator and doesn’t hide his eyes as they skim down you. “Although you did play well, we may need you on our line actually.”

You laugh, “Oh, shut up.”

He hums, “Music to my ears.”

You roll your eyes. Both of you completely ignored the elephant in the room and you were glad. It was nice to see him again. The person you were talking to was who he was before the World Cup. Before he got too in his head. It makes your heart swell to see him happy again.

The elevator door dings open and he leads you to whatever room he was planning. It’s small with a single table and chair. The walls are painted blue and one of them is a whiteboard. A large window shows the view of the field below.

“What is this place?” you snort.

He laughs, “A small media room. Sometimes they do interviews in this room, but new coaches, never the players.”

“And that’s it?”

He smirks as the two of you make eye contact, “Sometimes a hideout the guys and I go to when we get sent off.”

“Like a red card?”

He nods, “Yep.”

You shake your head, chuckling. He pulls out the seat and motions you to take it. After you sit, he sits on the table, his legs dangling as he looks at the field. He’s sitting across from you on the table and has his back to you. The players were starting to make their way back onto the field.

“I promised—well Sergio—promised to have you back down there within twenty minutes,” he says, his eyes still glued onto the window. “I—” He lets out a shaky laugh and it makes you laugh at his nervousness. “They’re upset with me.”

“Who?”

“Sergio and Achraf.”

“Achraf?”

He glances back at you, “Number 2 on the field. Hakimi.”

“Oh, yes, okay I know him. Why are they upset with you?” your eyebrows furrow.

He rubs his neck, “I told them what happened between us.”

You nod your head slowly although he can’t see you. Well, might as well rip off the bandaid now. Time was ticking.

He looks down in his lap, “I’m sorry, chérie. I didn’t really mean to tell them, but they read an article and it said that we were in a relationship. They started asking a bunch of questions.”

“Wait, there's an article?” You’re already on your feet as you round the table. You don’t even have your phone on you to search for it.

He shakes his head, “It’s not bad.”

“You read it?”

He nods and stands up. He grabs a hold of your waving arms, settling them, “It’s not bad. It was talking about your accomplishments and then only mentioned me at the end. Said that it was going to be a ‘sight to see’ us on the field together after we called off our engagement four years ago.”

“It mentioned that?” You didn’t want the media’s attention to be on your previous relationship, it should be on a team.

He nods, his hands still on your wrists, rubbing circles onto them. “It was brief. Not a lot about you and I.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Where were you?”

He gives you a faint smile, his hands lingers on yours as he takes a seat on the table right beside you. He lets go of your hands, “Why did you come back?”

You sigh and rub your palms on your sweats. He wasn’t going to like the news. The media hadn’t even caught wind of it yet. “I’m getting married.”

Kylian can’t help the reaction he lets out. His eyes widen and his mouth falls open. His eyes are on you and you watch as they go from shock to hurt. He looks away immediately, his head looking down as he covers his mouth.

“He wanted to move here, got a job, and then hoped I would follow him.”

Kylian looks up, his eyebrows creased, “You wouldn’t do that though. You would never give up your dreams. Tell me that’s a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“For a guy?”

You sigh, crossing your arms. It was a bit out of character. “I’m back here because PSG needed a defender.”

He stands up, his head shaking, “Tell me the truth.”

“I am.”

Kylian stands only a foot in front of you, he has to look down at you to talk. His voice is serious, “So what happened to your dream?”

“It was to win the Champions League with PSG. I never got to do it,” you say.

Both of you silently think about that night of your break up. The next day, your team had played horribly against Chelsea, losing 3-0. You wish you could say you played well but you hadn’t at all. Kylian had come to that game, watching in the same room you both stood in now.

He sighs, “You won one with Barca.”

“That wasn’t my dream though.”

“I know,” he gives you a meek smile. “I just—there has to be more to the story, chérie, I mean help me understand.”

You palm your forehead, you should’ve known he was going to want to talk about what you were doing here back. You had left that season to Barcelona after the Champions League, wanting to get out of the city you grew up in. But also wanting to get away from him.

“Is that all you brought me up here for?” you ask.

He shakes his head, “I wanted to see how you’ve been.”

“I’ve been good, Kylian. How have you been?”

“Miserable,” he mutters. “Even more now.”

“Mmm, I’m sorry about the World Cup.”

He waves you off, “I was miserable before that.”

“Why?”

“Because I lost you,” he agonizes and you stop yourself from expressing your annoyance.

“Kylian—”

“Does he make you happy?” His arms flop down next to him as he awaits your response.

You muse, “Yes.”

“Everything you wished I gave you?”

You bite onto your lip. Kylian was one of a kind when the two of you first started dating, almost nothing could ever top his morning cuddles and kisses he would give you. He always knew which muscles to massage before your training sessions. Or how you liked your coffee. Or how you would always like to run yourself a bath after strenuous workout sessions. He’d have the water ready for you when you’d get a home.

“Chérie?” He raises his brow. His hand goes to your cheek and he brushes the delicate skin. The both of you almost melting at the contact. You lean into his touch instantly.

“He’s a gentleman.”

“That wasn’t my question,” he whispers. “Why are you here, mon amour?”

You feel him brush away the tear before you even notice it’s there. You open your eyes and his eyes flutter with concern. You step back, wiping away your tears, “I should head back.”

His arms are around you before you can stop and you break down into him. Your head digs into Kylian’s strong shoulder as you sob into him. He still smelled of sweat and outside, but you didn’t care, all you felt was him. He kisses your head as his embrace tightens, pulling you closer to him.

This felt like home. His scent. His arms. The feeling he brought to your chest, you hadn’t felt this way in four years.

He holds you for a couple of more minutes until your crying dies down. He kisses your forehead when he peels you away, “Tell me. I’m not going to judge. I can take the criticism.”

“He wants to have kids,” you frown.

Kylian sneers, “What a jerk.”

You laugh through the tears and he gives you a small smile. You cross your arms, wanting Kylian’s warmth back. “I don’t even want to have kids right now. I’m playing so well and then I’d have to stop. I’m too young.”

He chuckles. He knew he shouldn’t have found this situation comical but it was. You had told him before how you would only want a kid now—when you were both young—or when you were both older, that there was going to be no in between. So he knew you weren’t going to give this man children until years later. This makes the ache in his heart ease, knowing that he would never treat you this way.

“I’m being serious, Ky,” you groan. “I’ve told him all this already and it’s like he doesn’t care. He can’t even see me halfway.”

“You’ve called off one engagement before, why not go for a second?” He teases. He says it so nonchalantly that you jab at his shoulder.

“Stop it.”

“Okay, okay,” he swipes the smile off of his face. “So you’re here because he wants kids?”

“He wants to settle down, and said that he always wanted to live in Paris.”

“Is he famous?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I didn’t want to do that again.”

He clutches his heart, “Ouch.” You don’t respond and he takes a seat back on the table. He folds his arms, looking up at you, “You told me that you didn’t want to be held back. Isn’t that what’s happening now?”

“How am I being held back?”

He shrugs, “You want a Champions with PSG. Not kids.”

“We can have kids in the future.”

“He wants them now.”

“Well,” you sigh, “it’s still an ongoing discussion.”

He huffs.

You keep going: “I missed Paris. I wanted to be back here with my family. My parents and siblings are getting older. I have a niece who I only see on the holidays and I feel like I’ve missed out on her entire life. I practically have!”

He nods his head slowly, but you can see the way the glimmer in his eyes diminish. He was upset. He exhales, “So it’s just a sudden win-win scenario for you? That it’s easy? Two birds in one stone?”

“What do you mean?”

He stands, he looks disappointed. “You come back here to get married. Maybe win a Champions League. You have your family around you. And then you settle down with this man and have kids.”

You didn’t understand the problem. That was exactly what you had planned. You didn’t see anything wrong with it.

“Kylian, it's been in the news about me possibly transferring for months now. He read about it in an article, and then brought the idea up to me, and then I told him that yeah, I’d think about it. Then the next day, he gets a job here and then I suddenly have to think between two decisions.”

He raises his arm to stop you and you raise a brow at him. He doesn’t bat an eye. “You gave up your life in Barcelona to follow him. Not for you. For him. You would’ve never thought about moving back here if it wasn’t for him.”

“That’s not true,” you cross your arms. “I wanted to move back here.”

He shakes his head, “Maybe you did, but it wasn’t for your family.”

“How could you say something like that?”

“I know you, chérie. Your ambition is too high to ever stop to follow someone. Your family has never held you back, no matter how much they have tried to persuade you. Hell, even I tried to persuade you before. When you have your mind set to something, it’s set. Your niece was born four years ago, a little after we broke up, and what? You barely miss them now?”

You scoff. Kylian’s words were harsh. A brutal blow to you and your return.

He’s shaking his head again, “This man took a job without even asking you! And you were fine with that? He’s never even lived in Paris.”

“It’s different.”

“How?” he scowls. “How is this any different than when you would wait for me to change? Instead, it’s as if I had never changed and you just dealt with it. Are you kidding me? You would have never put up with that—and you didn’t.”

“He can actually keep his promises, Kylian. He remembers anniversaries at the very least. That’s already more than what you did.”

A ripple of a sarcastic laugh escapes him, “Our anniversary would be next week, and when I proposed to you, that’s in three months and two days from now.”

“You remembered that a bit too late.”

He sighs, his hands settling on the top of his head, “I just—you’re making a mistake with this man. He wants a kid, chérie, he wants you to stop playing. He’s already got a new job that I assume pays better than his last. He wants you to be a mom.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Your irritation and annoyance only grows into silent anger. “If you think your words are going to somehow make me leave him and go back to you, you’re dead wrong.”

Kylian’s gaze moves to the pitch. It was at the 60th minute. His rehearsed speech was long gone and time was dwindling down. His mind couldn’t stop thinking about what to say next. He didn’t like the idea of you coming back home under these circumstances.

You wipe your face, “And what does it matter to you anyway? You and I aren’t in a relationship, Kylian. I don’t owe you anything.”

He looks at you, “He doesn’t make you happy. I know it because you were happy with me, before I fucked it up. You don’t look like that right now. You don’t have that glow.”

You snort, “And you’re supposed to bring that all back?”

“I can if you let me.”

“Hilarious. I’m done here.”

He steps forwards to you, a hand settling on your waist and you don’t move, frozen by his sudden touch. His eyes glance down to your lips and then back towards yours, “Just think about why you came here. You know the real reason only. The reason you gave me was full of shit. You and I both know it. I know you want to win the Champions League with PSG, but the only reason you were transferred is because you asked for it. Barca would have never let you go just because.”

He stops, his gaze growing more firm, “And say that yes, you wanted this dream to come true because it happened in Barcelona. I get that. I know that. But what happens when you win it? When you retire and realize that you don’t actually love this man the way you think you do?”

“I lo—”

He shakes his head, “No you don’t. You’re waiting. You’re hoping that something changes. That your feelings towards him change. I know that because you have that look. That same look when you were waiting for me to change. Waiting for me to snap out of it and realize that I had fucked everything up.”

He eyes the clock on the field: 64. He was out of time. Fuck.

You stare at him, lost in his words. This was what he wanted. For you to doubt yourself.

His hand presses against your cheek and then he drops it, “I’m not like the person I used to be. I do remember things now. I don’t ever forget because of what happened between us.”

He lets out a small chuckle, “I definitely won’t pester you to have my kids right now. I won’t compromise on your dreams. I won’t ever make you doubt my intentions. I promise to never make you feel this way, or the way you felt when you left. I’d never tell you to stop chasing your ambition, even if it takes years that we never have kids. Because let's face it, PSG has some growth to do.”

He gives you a meek smile, “My heart was only ever yours to have. And I'd love it if you met me at my penthouse, but only come when you’ve broken up with this jerk. You can come whenever you want, your dresser and empty space in the closet waits for you.”

Kylian takes your face into your hands and presses a chaste kiss on your cheek, lingering his face in front of yours as he pulls away. Both of your breaths are faltering and heavy.

“I’ll see you later,” he whispers. He releases you and leaves the media room.

You’re left alone with his looming words replaying in your mind. You had a life-altering decision to make. Especially because he read you well. Read right through your lies.

--

(Part Two)

[nymrs]

i told you so part 2?🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

I TOLD YOU SO [II] | NJ, KM

Summary: Kylian kind of messing up your birthday party, Neymar confronting him afterwards

Genre: fluff (Neymar), a small amount of angst (Kylian)

Pairings: reader x fuckboy Kylian, reader x big brother Neymar

It was your birthday, the night of the party you wished Kylian would attend. Ever since he told you about his date, you haven’t even talked to each other. He messaged you a few times, asking you to come over, but didn’t seem to care when you left him on read without giving him an answer. Even though you missed him, you felt good putting yourself first.

The party went better than you thought, you were able to distract yourself from any negative thoughts and appreciated having your favourite people around. "Where’s Kylian?", one of your friends asked after following you into the kitchen. Taking a cold bottle of water out of the fridge, you shortly froze at the mention of his name. Turning around to face her, you attempted to play it cool, "He’s not coming." She furrowed her brows at you. "Why not? I thought you were so close." Your eyes rolled at her question, though you tried to hide your downcast expression. "I didn’t invite him", you coldly responded and rushed over her. "I feel like there’s something you haven’t told me yet", she insisted. You took a deep breath, "Can we talk about this later? I don’t want to discuss this out on my birthday." She understandingly nodded, "Sorry." Through the light pain you felt, you smiled at her and tilted your head. "Forget about it. How about a round of shots?" The pair of you giggled and went back to the rest of the group.

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"So I died my hair blonde okay, and no joke, she did the same, one. week. later", the girl sitting across from Kylian laughed out before sipping on her champagne glass once more, "She’s obsessing over me, just because I've been on a date with her boyfriend. Months ago! I mean, I never really cared about him. He’s not even my type. The only reason I went on this date was pure boredom. Seems like he never got over me rejecting him… Kylian?" He was on his phone, rewatching your instagram story again and again. Him not being invited to your party kind of made him feel offended. Kylians date repeated his name several times, slightly pushing his hand until he finally looked up, "Huh?"

"Are you even listening to me?", her face scrunched up as her eyes moved back and forth between Kylian and his phone, which he quickly locked. "Honestly, no." Her lips parted in shock, discomfort showing in her face. "I gotta go now. It was nice seeing you", was all he said, not even dedicated a glance to her, before he finally got up from his chair, paid for himself and walked out of the restaurant.

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The atmosphere at your party was at its best as you played drinking games and downed one shot after another. Neymar and his mates avoided drinking too much of alcohol in case any of you girls felt bad or needed help.

Currently you were playing "Never have I ever". Neymars friend Gil read out the questions. If you’ve done one of the said things, you had to drink your shot. When Gil read out a dirty question and you quickly downed your shot, Neymar widened his eyes at you. "Damn Y/N, I didn’t want to know that", he spoke up jokingly, his chuckle being interrupted by the door bell ringing. You were about to get up, but your brother insisted he would go for it. "What the fuck are you doing here?", Neymar asked when he opened the door to find the uninvited visitor. "It’s Y/Ns birthday and no one told me?!", Kylian complained, lightly pushing Neymar to the side in order to enter the house. "I can't recall her inviting you." Kylian looked around the decorated house and nodded as he enjoyed some of the snacks he found. "Yeah and I'm actually pissed about it." Neymar scoffed in disbelief. "You didn’t even remember it’s her birthday, so-" He got cut off by you entering the room. "Who is it Ne- Oh." For a few seconds, you silently stood in front of Kylian who kept on searching for something of his taste at the snack bar. "Happy Birthday princess. Forgot to tell me about your party hm?", he greeted you. Neymar rolled his eyes at him before deciding it would be the best to leave the two of you alone. "I thought you’d be on a date", you crossed your arms in front of your chest. He tried to talk through the bunch of grapes that filled his mouth. "Didn’t go as planned. Nevertheless, what’s up with you? You’re not answering my calls and texts, now you didn’t even invite me to your birthday. I could’ve used you sometime this week." He wiggled his eyebrows while you just raised one at him. "Yeah, you could use me, the only thing you need me for."

"Girl what? We’ve agreed on this friends and benefits thing", he said, "You could’ve just told me if you got uncomfortable with it. Adding to that, I've told you I don’t want anything serious. You’re my best friends sister, I wouldn’t play you like that."

"Your best friends sister? Is this all I am to you?", you cried out, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. "Y/N, what got into you? I thought we were just having some fun, what are you making a scene for?" "Damn, you really don’t get it do you? I'm not spreading my fucking legs for just anyone!" As a tear rolled down your cheek, it suddenly hit him. You liked him more than a friend and he was too blind to see. "I'm- I'm sorry Y/N, I had no idea. I never meant to hurt you", he stuttered out as you couldn’t even stop the tears from flooding. Neymar walked in the room to check up on you, only to find you hiding your face behind your hands and crying bitterly. He quickly rushed up to you, wrapping his strong arms around you. Kylian was trying to explain himself, but Neymar didn’t let him. "Leave. Now", he glared at him. Kylian tried to continue, but he was lost for words. "I’m sorry Y/N, I really am. I… I hope the rest of the day goes well for you."

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With Kylian leaving, your good mood was gone as well. Neymar asked everyone to leave and suggested spending the rest of the night watching movies when you’ve finally calmed down.

You just came back from showering, already getting comfortable in your pajamas, when Neymar jumped up from the couch. "I'll go get some snacks, do you want anything?", he asked, pulling his car keys out of his joggers. "No, thank you. Hurry up though, or else I'll fall asleep", you softly smiled at your brother in gratitude. He didn’t only go to grab some snacks, but discuss things out with his former best friend. Luckily, Kylian just got out of the cab when Neymar parked in front of his house. Neymar stepped out of his car and noticed a girl following Kylian, their hands intertwined. When Kylian realised who stood there, he simply looked at him in confusion. "We need to talk", Neymar said, expecting that girl to leave, but she only tightened her grip on Kylians hand. Kylian was tipsy, but she was drunk as fuck. "Can y'all do this later? We were just about to…", she blabbered, holding onto Kylians arm as she was about to stumble her way to his entrance door. "You were about to get your ass back in that cab and let us talk, alright?" Her eyes widened at Neymars words.

"You’ll just let him talk to me like that?", she looked at Kylian, who didn’t take his eyes off Neymar. "Do as he said", he coldly responded. She made her way back to the cab, cursing them out inaudibly. "So what do you want to talk about?", Kylian finally spoke up to break the unbearable silence. "My sister, obviously", Neymar started, "I never supported what the two of you had. I knew you would hurt her. This situation isn’t anything I didn’t expect. But leave her alone now. Just fucking drop it. Even if she gets weak and tries to contact you, don’t even think of replying. If I ever happen to see you close to her, or even just message her, I swear to God Kylian, I'll forget myself." Kylian remained quiet, feeling a strike of shame as he listened. "Did you hear me?", Neymar said, soft but still in an angry tone. "I’ll leave her alone. Just take care of her and make sure she’ll be alright, okay?" "Bet on it", Neymar reassured him, glancing over at him one last time before getting into his car and driving home to you.

"Finally! What took you so long?", you shouted out the moment you heard the entrance door open. "Sorry pequena, they didn’t have your Ben & Jerrys so I had to find it somewhere else." You couldn’t hide your big smile when he handed you your favourite ice cream. "You’re the best, honestly", you squeaked out. "I know, I know", he laughed. Neymar watched how happily you ate your ice cream, the way you giggled at the silliest parts of the comedy movie, and in that moment he promised himself, he would never let anything or anyone hurt his little sister ever again.

[mbappeslover]

écoute chérie // kylian mbappé | part one.

kylian mbappé x f! reader.

saw this edit on tiktok, they edited mbappé to écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer and… i fell in love. the song is sooo mbappé.

y/n got the job as kylian’s personal assistant. his previous assistant fired for unknown reasons. y/n had heard about kylian mbappé and his terrible attitude. she wasn’t excited to work with him. but, turns out.. he’s actually not that bad.

read part 2 here.

read the finale here.

credits to the editor: strkvoid on tiktok, they did such an amazing job <3, my favorite mbappé edit.

“y/n y/l/n, you’ve been accepted!” the notification pinged and appeared at the top of your screen. you clicked on it so fast.

one week ago.

“y/n, have you seen this? kylian mbappé’s management is looking for a new personal assistant.” your friend tells you during a phone call.

“oh really?” you ask.

“yes… and, you qualify for it! like a 100 percent. wait, i’m gonna send you the link.”

you received the message and clicked on the link, it was indeed an exclusive offer/application to becoming the footballer’s new personal assistant.

“y/n, you should really go for it. the pay is amazing and i’m sure it’ll be an awesome experience.”

you skim through the countless pages and listing of requirements and benefits the job offered. plus, you were indeed qualified for the job.

“mmm… i don’t know. everyone talks about how much of an asshole kylian mbappé is. how he’s a jackass with a shitty attitude and an unbearable ego, bigger than the universe.” you explain, iffy about this whole thing.

“oh please, it’s not like you’re gonna be all lovey dovey with the guy. imagine how much money you’ll be making. you want to quit your current job right now anyway.” your friend says, trying her hardest to convince you.

you laugh. “okay, you’re right. i’ll call you back, i’m gonna read through all the paper work, submit my résumé and update you on it.”

you weren’t too serious about it, you doubted that you’d actually get the job.

everything just got real. definitely serious.

you got the job, you were on call with the footballer’s management, and you were now getting familiarized with his schedule.

“alright, ms. y/l/n, we’ve spoken through all the things you’ll be needing to do for kylian. i’ve sent you an email of a file that lists all the things you must do for him. now, all we need is for you to sign a few things. it’ll take you about ten minutes. it wasn’t much before but… some things went down. so, we had to make a few arrangements.” kylian’s manager stated.

you just nod taking everything in and trying to process it at once.

you heard the ping from your phone, signaling you got the email.

“okay, perfect. today, i’ll show you around psg and tomorrow you’ll be meeting kylian.”

a tour guide took you around the stadium, briefly explaining different areas and rooms in the building to you.

it was a long day. you were now in bed, aimlessly scrolling on instagram because you couldn’t sleep.

you’re nervous. why?

the athlete you’ll be attending to is possibly the biggest asshole in paris, france and you’re gonna have to deal with it.

you decide to go on his instagram.

“k. mbappé, 94.1m Followers, 389 Following, 1204 posts.”

you click on the first photo presented and begin scrolling down.

in almost all photos he’s smiling, with a caption full of emojis and empowering words.

he looks so… sweet?

is this the same guy with the so-called “bad attitude?”

you fell asleep.

after scrolling through all one thousand, two hundred and four posts by kylian mbappé.

your alarm rang, loudly.

you groaned, getting up to prepare yourself for the day.

after getting dressed, you received a call from kylian’s manager.

“good mornin-“ you tried greeting politely, before cut off.

“good morning dear, i need you here in ten minutes.”

“it’s only 9:00, i was told to be there at 9:30. did something happen?” you ask, exasperated.

“yeah, well, kylian decided to come earlier than we thought and right now, he wants an organic green juice from le juice. it has to be from juicerie.” the manager explains.

“le juice is like fifteen minutes from where i am right now, how will i be able to make it in ten?” you say, slightly panicking.

“well, find a way. mbappé cares about his health, a lot. all that stuff about nutrition and good food is the key to health. if you didn’t know, now you do. be here in ten, please darling!” the managers says in a cheery voice before hanging up.

first day on the job and they were already trying to make the impossible, possible.

you quickly go on the website for le juice and order and paid online for a medium organic green juice for pick-up.

you catch a taxi and head over to le juice. it was a five minute drive because it was still a bit early and the streets hadn’t start to fill yet, luckily.

you ask the taxi driver if they could wait for a quick second while you grab the order from inside.

the taxi driver fussed a bit yet ultimately decided to wait.

again, you were able to swipe up the juice since the shop just opened and customer didn’t pile up in the juice bar.

you hop back in the taxi and make your way to the stadium.

“tsk, your first day on the job and you’re seven minutes late. you better hurry up and get in there.” the manager scolds you once you arrive, outside the office room of psg.

“well, you should’ve told me i would have to be here earlier, you cunt.”

you didn’t actually say that, you thought it, but, you didn’t say it.

you quickly enter the room, with a little a stumble, almost tripping on your own feet. you quickly laugh at how much of a mess you are.

the room is packed, there’s people everywhere, most likely other staff members. you see at the corner of the room, there’s a small crowd of people surrounding something.

you squeeze in between people, trying to find a way through.

“excuse me. yea, sorry. my apologies. let me just squeeze in. i’m sorry.” you murmur out while gliding through the people in the packed room.

that’s when you were faced with him.

he’s exactly like those photos on the internet, a vibrant face, smiling while the people around him asks him questions like how’s his morning, would he like anything to drink, trivial things to simply make conversation. 

the infamous kylian mbappé.

you cleared your throat, put on your most brightest smile and polite voice.

“mr. mbappé, this is your organic green juice.” you say, putting your hand out to give the drink.

the area becomes quiet as the attention shifts on you.

you briefly look around confused.

and the smile that was once on kylian’s face had disappeared.

it was replaced with a hard stoned, cold glare.

“the fuck?” you thought.

he grabs the drink from your hand, not even thanking you before continuing the small talk with staff around him.

you try your hardest not to make a face at his rude behavior.

you brush it off.

literally.

brushing yourself off, taking a deep breath. putting on a polite voice again, you introduce yourself.

“hello, my name is y/n. i’m sure your manager already told you about me, i am your new personal assistant. if you ever need me, for anything, feel free to let me know. that’s my job, of course.” adding in a little humor to lighten the atmosphere, reaching your hand out.

once again, the area of the room goes silent. his smile falls once again and he slowly turns to look at you.

“d'accord. où est ma paille?” (okay. where is my straw?)

the crowd laughs.

you reach out your bag, handing him the straw before walking away.

“the rumors are true. he’s insufferable. literally an asshole. a two-faced scum? who even treats someone like that? no wonder his old assistant left. who’d want to deal with that.” you were now on the phone with your friend who encouraged you to apply.

“y/n, calm down. i know it was frustrating, but, it’s just your first day. at least quit after you get your first check.” your friend said, trying to comfort you.

yea, that’s right. y/n cried. cried very hard. today was extremely difficult.

you followed kylian everywhere, attempting to tend to his needs, but, all he did was be rude or downright ignore you.

“sir, how are you feeling? would you like for me to schedule a massage for you, in case you are feeling tense?” you ask.

“do i look tense to you?”

“mr. mbappé, your manager has informed me that you have a meeting on friday at 3pm.”

“who makes meetings on friday? i’m not going, you’re going. i have to relax.”

“mr. mbappé-“

“please stop bothering me. aren’t you my assistant? why must you keep calling out my name, you’re here to handle my business.”

“i don’t even know what i did to him? why should i get treated like this? it makes no sense.” you complain to your friend.

“i’m sure it’ll get better eventually… hopefully.”

“yea, hopefully.”

it’s been two weeks, working as kylian mbappé’s personal assistant.

to say y/n felt drained would be an understatement.

fourteen endless days of talking to a brick, solid wall.

a brick, solid wall with snarky remarks and a stinky attitude.

“mr. mbappé, your driver is outside waiting for you. he has the specific refreshments you asked for.” y/n says.

“alright, walk me to the car.” he says.

y/n’s concerned because he usually just nods and walks to the car himself.

as the two makes their way to the car, kylian starts conversation.

“your name, y/n, right?”

this is weird.

so weird.

“yes, sir. y/n y/l/n.”

“alright y/n, can you cook?”

“yes, i can cook, why?” y/n questions.

“génial. je veux que tu cuisines pour moi. (great. i want you to cook for me).” kylian says nonchalantly.

y/n stops dead in her tracks as kylian continues to walk.

“so, now i have to cook for this man? really?

well, it is your job…

oh, shut up. i know that!

just saying…” you internally battle with yourself.

he turns around, “well are you coming? i don’t have all day and i’m starving.”

you snap out of it, speed-walking to catch up.

“why are you standing by the door?”

you were in your bosses house. well, it’s not out of the ordinary because you are his personal assistant.

however, this is a drastic jump from a few days ago, when he didn’t even want you near him.

“are you okay, mr. mbappé? it looks pretty bad. i can go get you some soothing gel!”

he hurt himself pretty badly while trying to perform a trick during practice.

“no! i’m fine. don’t touch me, move!”

he spat out, stumbling to get up by himself.

you back up in utter shock.

other staff runs up to offer him support as he limps away.

mbappé’s pov:

his new personal assistant stood at the door, looking like a lost puppy that was left for dead on a rainy night.

kylian knew he was being hard on her, harsh to her. but, he couldn’t let his guard down.

he refused to let history repeat itself.

“why are you standing by the door?” he asks.

y/n seemed to be lost in her thoughts when he said that because she snapped up and made her way into the house after taking off her tory burch sandals.

kylian observed the woman as she subtly looked around the place before making her way to the kitchen.

he couldn’t lie. she was beautiful. she could be on the cover of a makeup magazine because of how natural and pretty her features were.

he wishes he could see her smile. most of the time she wears a frown on her face, sometimes a pout that kylian finds endearing. he wouldn’t show that though. or.. say it, ever.

her hair looked so soft, her voice was so nice on the ear. she had a nice figure, ones of a dancer, delicate, light on the feet.

“mr. mbappé? did you hear what i said? i asked, what exactly would you like for me to cook?” she said. he loved her voice, utterly. like a bee, wanting to drown in honey. he wanted to drown in her voice, listen to it forever.

“call me kylian.”

for some reason, he finds himself wanting to get to know her. get closer to her.

y/n’s pov:

‘oh God, he’s staring.’ you think to yourself.

y/n has made her way to the kitchen after taking in the penthouse. it was so nice and luxurious. she wondered how much or how long she’d have to work before ever living in a place like this.

she began looking in the cabinets, taking out a few pots and pans before realizing her boss didn’t even tell her what he wanted to eat.

“mr. mbappé, what exactly would you like for me to cook.” y/n says, an attempt to ease the tension.

‘he’s still staring. what the hell is wrong with him?’

“mr. mbappé? did you hear what i said? i asked, what exactly would you like for me to cook?” she repeats.

he looks you straight in the eye.

“call me kylian.”

you two continue making eye contact, you thought you’d feel uncomfortable, but, it’s rather… nice? it feels nice. it’s the first he’s ever actually acknowledged you.

you break the eye contact, clearing your throat.

“alright, if you don’t have anything set in mind, i’ll just cook and try to make do with whatever you have here.” you say.

it’s been about 50 minutes and you’re finally done cooking. you made steak & farfalle pasta with creamy tomato sauce.

kylian went into his bedroom since you began cooking and hadn’t come out. but, you did hear faint music coming from his room.

you begin to plate his food nicely, setting it on the kitchen island with a glass cup of ice water.

luckily, you clean along the way while cooking so there wasn’t a mess. you were tired, you wanted to get home and unwind.

you walk up to his bedroom door, about to knock, when the door swings open.

“oh! i was just about to knock. the food is ready.” you say slightly surprised.

he doesn’t say anything.

but, you could care less. your attention shifts to the song being played in the background.

“is that écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer? i love that song so much.” you say excitingly, completely forgetting that you’re at work. technically.

“yeah, it is. i love that song too.” he replies with a small chuckle.

‘did he just chuckle? with me? did kylian mbappé, my rude ass boss. chuckle… with me?’

you smile, looking at the small smile that adorned his face as he chuckled.

you won. you’re winning mbappé over.

mbappé’s pov:

he was in his room, sipping on some expensive red wine from a brewery that gifted him some.

he felt at peace, moments like these to himself. drinking something, listening to music, letting loose.

not only that, but, most likely, he could smell the aroma from the food his personal assistant, y/n was making for him.

its been a little while, he was gonna go check on the food.

his favorite song comes on.

“partir, venir, mourir, courir.”

what a lovely song. he sings to himself, along the chant before making his way to the door.

opening it, there she was.

“oh! i was just about to knock. the food is ready.” she says, obviously a little spooked.

he doesn’t care about that, though. the more he looked at her, the more time he spent around her, the harder it got to suppress his obvious attraction to the woman.

he visibly sees something click in her head as she moves from his sight to get a better hearing of what was being played.

“is that écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer? i love that song so much.” she says.

‘God, she’s so cute.’ he thinks to himself.

“yeah, it is. i love that song too.” he says, trying to hold back the ‘awe’ he wants to say so bad.

she smiles.

kylian felt like his heart could explode.

without absolutely zero exaggeration, she has got to have an award for having the most beautiful smile in the universe.

that smile right there—convinced kylian that he would make it his mission to always see that smile as long as y/n’s around him.

y/n turns around, leading him to his meal.

his stomach grumbles as he lay eyes on the food. it looks delicious. better than any five star michelin restaurant he’s been to. would probably taste better as well.

he’s confused, though. there’s only one plate of food.

he turns to y/n.

“where’s your food?”

“oh, i only made food for you, sir-“

“kylian, call me kylian.”

“yes, i’m sorry, kylian.”

“i’m gonna wait here for you to finish your food so i can wash your plate, then i’ll be out your hair, if that’s fine with you, kylian.”

he knows he can’t just let her leave like that.

he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he thinks he knows what he wants.

“that’s fine. come sit down.” he says, pulling out the chair next to him.

y/n hesitantly makes her way and gets seated. kylian slides over the glass of ice water to her.

“no, it’s for you.” y/n explains.

“i know, but, just drink it. i have some wine in my room.”

“okay, do you want me to go get it and pour some out for you?” y/n says, about to make her way there when kylian gently pulls her down.

“no, no, it’s fine. relax.” he says.

kylian begins eating, almost scarfing the food down.

y/n takes a sip of the water while looking at him eat.

“is it good?” y/n asks.

he stops for a second, chewing and swallowing what’s in his mouth.

“very. best meal i’ve had in a long time, y/n. thank you.” he says with a genuine smile on his face.

y/n smiles back before bringing the glass cup up to her lips and drinking some more water.

“so, y/n, how old are you?” he says, finishing up his food.

“i turned 24 a few months ago.” y/n says.

“really? i turned 24 a few months ago as well.”

“i know that, you’re the star of france.” y/n says with a small smile on her face.

he smiles at her again.

y/n couldn’t take it.

‘this is awfully weird. why is he being so… nice. it was concerning.’ she thinks to herself.

silence takes over the room and the only sound being the fork hitting against the glass plate as kylian takes a bite of the pasta.

“kylian, why are you so mean to me?”

“y/n, i know i haven’t been the nicest to you…”

they say at the same time. they both laugh.

“you go first.” kylian offers to y/n.

“alright, i was asking. why are you so mean to me? did i do.. something.”

kylian sighs deeply, “no y/n, you did nothing wrong, but, a lot happened before that’s making me like that towards you. just know i don’t mean it.” he explain.

“well, what happened?”

“i’ll tell you later.” kylian says finishing the food.

y/n took the plate and glass cup, made her way to the sink and began washing the dishes.

y/n wondered, what was on his mind. what was he thinking about.

too deep in thought to not see her boss, kylian. staking right next to her, leaning on the countertop.

she finishes cleaning the plate and cup.

she turned to her left, her soul jumping out her chest.

“kylian! why are you always sneaking up on people.” y/n said, laughing off the remaining shock with a hand over her heart.

“sorry, sorry, i just like looking at you.” he laughs.

y/n laughs too.

“oh really?”

“OH? REALLY?” she says backtracking because it registered to y/n what he said.

“yes. you’re beautiful.” he says, stepping a teeny closer to the beautiful woman in front of him.

y/n blushes.

“the food was really good as well. i really wish you would’ve ate with me.” he says.

“i’m just your assistant. i don’t want to break any of your boundaries. i respect you.” y/n says.

“i respect you.” kylian replays it in his head.

he already had a slight crush on y/n, but, this was different.

he has a crush on y/n.

“wow, you’re making me feel like shit for treating you the way i did. i respect you, too. say, come over again tomorrow. if you make me something to eat again, i’ll tell you what happened.” he says with a smile on his face.

y/n remains silent. she was thinking.

‘is kylian mbappé flirting with me?’

there’s no way.

yes there is! look at the way he’s looking at you. he wants you!’ you weigh out to yourself.

kylian think it’s adorable. the way y/n constantly looks like a lost puppy.

he bends down a bit, leveling himself to y/n’s height to get her attention.

“everything alright in there?” kylian says.

y/n seems to still be in deep thought when kylian giggles.

he takes his index finger, placing it underneath y/n’s chin, lifting it up.

he looks her in the eye.

he wants to kiss her, her lips look so soft. he’s 100% sure if their lips were to simply graze across one another, he’d still love it. be addicted to it.

y/n looks back into his eyes, feeling her heart beat and her stomach start to flutter.

“deal or no deal?” kylian says as he tilts his head to the side.

y/n eyes drops to kylian’s lips. they were the perfect size and naturally protruded out.

she imagined how it’d feel. probably like a pillow, or, maybe a marshmallow.

y/n eyes make its way back to kylian’s.

she made up her mind.

“deal.” she says before gently removing his finger from her chin. she gathered her bags and made her way to the door, kylian following right behind.

she slipped on her sandals as kylian unlocked & opened the door.

y/n walks out, before turning to kylian who stood by the door.

“goodnight.”

“goodnight.”

they say together.

the two laugh.

“till next time then, goodnight mr. mbappé.” y/n says.

“it’s kylian and i’ll call you tomorrow. make sure you answer. goodnight, y/n.” he says, smiling.

a/n (author’s note):

i am confident in this at all.. i feel like it could be way better but i wanted to hurry and publish something to whoever’s waiting. i’ve been so busy and tired with school :,(. it was supposed to only have one part but i didn’t wanna rush the plot too much.

i tried something new with the whole “pov” thing. and, i hope it’s not too confusing because i switch from 2nd point of view to 3rd a lot.

i guarantee part 2 will be more exciting than this. thanks for reading!

[cialovesklopp]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ➺ k.mbappé

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — when your whole career is crashing down, one finds out that tequila and an unknown man become your best friends.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 6.6k

mon amour — masterlist

where did it all go wrong? amara imani truly didn’t know. her life went from a fairy tale to a nightmare in the span of a few weeks, and now she was back where she started. nowhere.

how could she have gone from loving her life so much and being proud of the person she had become and all that she had achieved to having to hide herself within the four wall of her apartment and not being able to recognise her own reflection.

everyday another new version came out, the same story just with a different title and a little bit further from the truth than it was before. all about the same cheating scandal she witnessed unfold with her very own eyes. yet she never saw it coming.

some could say love made her blind. no, it didn’t. it made me stupid amara thought. now all that so-called love had left to offer her was a broken heart and a shattered reputation. and she cursed love with every fiber of her being for realizing that she had been played by an below average man for the last two years.

hiding in paris hadn’t actually been her original plan but after having to cancel her tour, she had thought that in the french city, people wouldn’t recognize her as much as they did in the usa. she had thought wrong. paparazzi in paris were just as ruthless as they had been in new york and los angeles. even in paris, she wasn’t able to hide her face and get a break from all the drama without being blinded by flashing lights everyday.

amara had been lucky that grace had some extended family in the french capital that had been nice enough to let the singer stay in their modest cottage apartment till the newspapers and celebrity magazines stopped twisting the narrative to make amara look like the villain in her own relationship.

was amara hurt by her boyfriend cheating? not really. she grew up in a third world country where there was a lot more to worry about than a boy breaking your heart. it was her dignity and ego that was screaming pain.

he could have done it privately, spare her the humiliation and stress of the whole world finding out at the same time as she did. she would have preferred finding their text or photos - it would have hurt less. but no, he wanted to leave a mark before he left.

he cheated on her with the same person he told her not to worry about. her insecurities and jealousy fits were all in vain as it was always about her. and left amara wishing she had listened to her gut.

nearly two years gone. text messages he had sent her were still saved in her phone even though she had blocked his number. the good moments were forgotten and only the bad ones remain.

at least in this little bar she had been offered her peace. the small vintage club was located a little bit more outside of paris, meaning only locals know about it. amara had instantly fallen in love with it as soon as it caught her eye. the flowery design and plants that decorated the outside along with comfy armchairs and small coffee tables made it perfect for amara’s much needed self-care day. what she loved the most about it though was how by night, the dreamy cafe turned into a night bar yet still was filled with comfy, modest glow. le claire de la lune always knew how to cheer her up.

she lost count of how many she had downed but it was clear that she had passed the tipsy stage. it was an average day, with clouds blocking the sun of paris, and yet even with the cool air hit her, she still felt a fuzzy type of warm due to all the alcohol flowing through her system.

the chances that someone recognized her in this small bar were low, yet she still refused to take any risks and opted to leave her sunglasses on. she gratefully reached for the drink she had ordered, flashing the waiter one of her famous red-carpet smiles. sipping on her drink, she went through her phone but stayed away from her social media. checking the time again, she looked on her phone for any new messages and yet everything looked the same as she had left it fifteen minutes ago.

are you still coming?

so sorry, don’t think i will be. it’s better if we don’t meet up now.

so you’re ditching me?

with everything that’s going on at the moment with you, i think it’s better if we hold our distance

don’t call me ever again

“asshole” she muttered, putting her phone away again. why couldn’t anything go to plan, she cursed, finishing her drink in one shot. the only thing that never disappointed her, tequila.

ordering another drink, she failed to notice the dark brown eyes that lingered on her. it was clear to everyone around her that she was past the normal stage of drunk. if she drank any more, she would pass out sure enough. but amara didn’t care anymore.

she used to. but now she couldn’t be asked. she was past the point of always carrying herself, her own image while evan got to do whatever he wanted because he was a millionaire heir. but she also didn’t see the point anymore in caring. everyday that went by, her reputation got dragged deeper into mud by every news article - everyone was making money off her, except herself.

she took her sunglasses off, dragging her hands down her face in frustration. she wanted to cry. but like ariana grande had said, there were no tears left to cry. she was drained. she had cried it all out after she found out her boyfriend cheated on her publicly. and the stress of having to cancel her tour because of a mental breakdown didn’t make it any better. she didn’t have tears anymore to cry.

“it’s not fair,” she muttered drunkenly. the bartender watched her helplessly, not really sure what to do with her. at her request of filling her glass, he complied, preferring to just do his job and not meddle into his customer’s life.

“can i help you?”

amara jumped slightly which caused her to lose her balance and grab the stranger’s arm to find stability. she truly could not hold her drinking sometime. she let go of the unknown man’s arm, mustering him strangely. he was handsome, that could be said.

“if you can give me back my self-esteem and my reputation then yes, but since i doubt. no you can’t.”

she stood up swiftly in a rash movement but this time her legs did not obey, with the amount of alcohol she had drunk and gave out under her. to her luck, the man had put his arms around her waist, catching her quickly before she could land on the cold floor.

“i’m kylian,” he introduced himself, placing her carefully on the chair next to him. “and i really doubt i could help you with that but my mother always told me, sometimes even only listening is helpful.”

amara’s eyebrows furrowed, confusion appearing on her face. who was this man? and why was he so nice to her? she thought about leaving but some of her dignity was still left — and losing it in front of a stranger was not in her plans so she sat quietly next to him.

“i heard what you said earlier. about something not being fair. do you want to talk about it?”

she rolled her eyes, not even bothering to acknowledge him. she couldn’t lie, he was attractive and handsome, but the alcohol was clouding all her judgment. if she still had her reputation, she would have probably asked him out or flirted with him, but right now — honestly, all she could feel was annoyance and tiredness.

“don’t you have anything else to do instead of bothering me?”

he chuckled, shrugging carelessly. “well, i was here with my friend but he kind of dumped me because he found someone more entertaining than my company.” he pointed with his finger to a black man, currently flirting — that’s what it seemed like in amara’s perspective — with a brunette woman. amara had seen her here when she had come in.

she laughed and held out her hand, waiting for him to grab it. he seemed surprised at her swift mood changement but nevertheless, accepted her handshake. “welcome to the club of being dumped. i got dumped twice in the span of two weeks.”

her last sentence must have probably lit a light in kylian’s head, seeing his expression change. it must have been dark from her side perspective and the moment she had turned to his, the light fell down completely on her, making her immediately recognizable.

“je suis désolé pour ce qui c’est passé.” the footballer replied solemnly, falling back into his native language. but that didn’t bother amara — it had been too long since she had spoken french, a part of het missed speaking it. “ you didn’t deserve that.” — i am sorry for what happened

his words seemed sincere. a change from all the things that she had heard or been spoken to. she had to watch all the people, who she had considered friends, drop her as quick as she could count just because they deemed their images more important than her. it had truly been a stab in the back.

he didn’t have to say it out loud for them to know what he was referring too. after all, one would have to live behind the moon to not have heard from the whole imani-henderson scandal. one, that seemed to get worse from day to day. “guess you kinda caught me. yes, it’s me, amara imani hiding from the world and getting black-out drunk. what’s there to save anyway.” she exclaimed desperately, shrugging her shoulders, "everybody's talking and talking behind my back. they have no idea how i feel at the moment... a few months ago he acted like he planned on proposing and the moment i go on tour our couple falls and he cheats on me with that brunette nepo-baby that probably never had to work for anything in her life. and to top it all off, they have the audacity to destroy the very thing i hold closest. it’s not fair.”

her voice broke down and she probably sounded a bit watery but as said, she had no tears to cry anymore. pain and hurt outweighed sadness and anger. her reflex made her want to grab her glass but she remembered she had already finished it. she stared at her reflection, lifeless, black eyes staring back at her.

kylian had been in many situations but dealing with a fellow a-list celebrity who was drunk had never been one. as much as he wanted to help, he did not know what to do. especially because he knew that if it was him in that situation, he would have probably wanted to be left alone. but he also couldn’t get himself to leave her like this here -- he preferred to stay.

“why is being a celebrity so hard? it used to be my dream, inspiring people like me that the world is open to them. and look where i am now?” she questioned rhetorically, “ i’m the one who got cheated on. i deserve to be the scorned woman but instead i’m turned into an animal at the zoo, the paparazzi will turn their flashlight on at any chance they get. i’m human too.”

she sighed heavily but for some reason it felt good. ranting to someone about her life -- to someone she didn’t know and who didn’t hold any expectations on her. except for her mother, no one really knew how she felt, no matter how many people tried to put themselves into her situation.

“it’s crazy how much i understand you.” he revealed after a moment of silence, “sometimes the media put things about me in the press, i didn’t even know about myself. i remember how hard it was after i chose to stay in paris. they were literally tearing me apart.”

“but i’m sure you didn’t run away and hide from the world till your pr-manager tells you it's safe again, did you? that route is only reserved for amara imani because she apparently destroyed a relationship.” amara commented dryly. a lump formed in her throat, her stomach feeling heavy because of their topic. she swiftly ordered another drink although she had promised herself to stop the drinking. she was way past drunk.

his body hesitated but he still placed his hand on hers. she relaxed immediately at the sensation — his hand extended warmth and the feeling of heat spread instantly through her body. “i can assure you it’s not the end of it. you will shine again.” he tried to lift her up and removed his hand, amara’s hand still vibrating from the contact.

a soft smile spread on her lips, probably the first since days; a true genuine smile and it was to a stranger she had known for about twenty to thirty minutes. again, she finished her drink in one big sip and placed the glass down before starting to collect her things.

“it was very nice talking to you but i need to leave.” she murmured melancholy. tiredness was also an effect alcohol had on her. instead of making her all energetic and giddy, even the strongest vodka only made her tired. emotions would be running through her body on their highest, with very sensible hormones to the point it tired her out and she passed out from sleep. “i don’t know what I’m still doing here.”

“you are way too drunk to leave now. you can’t even manage to stand up alone.” he objected, raising his eyebrow. it was true, the only reason she had even been able to stand up and call the waiter, was due to her gripping the marble counter with her hand firmly.

“i will be fine. you don’t have to worry.”

“i don’t think my conscience could sleep if i let you home like that.”

“like i said, you don’t have to worry about me.” she reassured him, letting out a chuckle that came out more like a yawn. if she didn’t leave any minute, her body would not hold out on her. “at worst case, if something should happen to me, you’ll read about it first thing in the morning because it will be plastered everywhere.”

laughing lightly at her own joke, amara’s heart lightened as she saw kylian’s face turning from creased with concern to graced with a bright smile as he laughed at her. she scanned his face, taking in every detail of his face, memorising it all as if she was about to take a test on it. she was truly scared, she would forget it all tomorrow.

she immediately noticed the two small dips on either of his face that connected to his smile. amara didn’t know whether they were dimples or not but she couldn’t care less in this moment. all that mattered at the moment was that he was smiling which made her face loosen as a smile fought its way onto her lips too.

he stood up from his stool and reached forward to take amara’s purse. “come on, i’ll bring you home.”

“firstly, you don’t have to and secondly you don’t even know where i live.”

he waved dismissively at her, “two problems with a very easy solution. so how about you tell me your address so i can actually bring you home and sleep at my home with a good conscience that a drunk woman made it back safely?”

“for all i know, you might as well be some creep called kylian who just wants a good picture for the next scandalous issue. i heard they’re paying good for everything that futures me.”

“ouch, and i thought we had bonded,” the french attacker joked, putting a hand on his chest to show his false heartbreak. “but if you want a whole resume of me, then so be it.”

“my name is kylian mbappé, famous star football player and also a celebrity. and i am not out to get a picture of you for your next scandal. wouldn’t serve me anything.” he stated, typing his name into his phone to show it as further proof.

“that’s what they all say.”

“if you need extra reassurance, my driver would gladly be your witness, in any case”, he argued, trying to reassure her. tiredness was practically written on amara’s face and he didn’t know how long she would still last. “just give me your address. i promise, i won’t sell you out to the press.”

another yawn escaped amara’s lips. “well, as much as i would like to give you my address i can’t.”

if he was frustrated, he didn’t show which amara admired him for. evan had hated her stubbornness. “well, what do we have to solve this time? i told you three time already that i don’t plan on doing anything. i have some dignity.”

“i can’t give it to you because i don’t know it myself. my phone is dead and i can’t remember it anymore. i have only lived there for—,” she yawned, “two and a half weeks. and my head is starting to spin.”

“how did you even plan on getting home in the first place?”

she seemed to be thinking about his question, but her eyelids also fell rapidly and kylian noticed that whenever she blinked, her eyelids would stay closed for an extra second. he knew that feeling just all too well.

“you could sleep at mine,” the words left his mouth before he even had time to think about their weight. he was just as surprised about his offer as amara but he didn’t show it. “i have an extra bedroom, you could always sleep there. it’s cheaper than checking into a hotel right now.”

as much as she hated feeling like a burden, she knew he was right. it was well past midnight and she doubted that any hotel right now would open their doors just for her. in addition to that, every muscle of her body yearned for sleep.

he held out his hand, which amara grabbed thankfully, knowing she wouldn’t have the balance to stand upright. as they walked through the club, heading for the backdoor where kylian’s driver would wait for them so they wouldn’t catch any unwanted attention, amara started to snuggle up a bit into his side. by the time the driver arrived, she was already completely on his side, her head laying on his shoulder.

he helped her, holding her hand as they got into the car. he greeted his driver with a nod, mouthing a silent apology for waking him up at that hour. he didn’t say anything about amara, which kylian was thankful for, not wanting the singer to feel like a burden.

it wasn’t a very long ride, but long enough for amara to fall asleep and claim the back seats as her bed, extending her legs over the seats.

what exactly he found so endearing about watching a person sleep was still a mystery to him and yet he couldn’t keep himself from smiling at her completely enamored. seeing her breathe so calmly as she slept, put a smile on his face. after hearing just how horrible the past few weeks had been for her, all he wanted was for her to be able to finally catch a break.

he knew just how many sleepless nights she must have had, staring at the ceiling or turning around in the bed because fatigue just refused to take over your body. flashbacks of the past days would reminisce in the brain and especially the painful emotions were at their highest during these times. having gone through all this, he was happy that she was sleeping so soundly.

kylian had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed they had arrived already. he was brought out of his thoughts by his chauffeur, tipping his shoulder to get his attention and asking him what to do with the woman sleeping on the backseats.

“laisse, je vais m’en occuper,” he had responded to his driver. — leave it, i’ll take care of it

after countless attempts to wake her, kylian gave up and just let her sleep and deep down he was content with himself for his decision. who would dare to wake her after she had finally managed to get some sleep, knowing just how many sleepless nights she must have been through with all the drama?

so instead, the french striker put her carefully, with the help of his driver, into his arms and chose to carry her to bed instead of waking her. she was light, not as light as a feather as some like to say but she wasn’t heavier than other people he had already carried.

he is definitely grateful, the media weren’t able to catch a glance of them because he did not know how to explain to his pr-manager how he managed to be pictured with a drunk, passed out amara imani in his arms.

arriving in the luxurious yet comfy apartment that his mother decorated for him, he headed directly for his bedroom. he laid her softly on the bed, making sure she didn’t wake up though it seemed to him that she was sleeping like the dead at the moment. even the apocalypse happening probably wouldn’t wake her.

kylian was unsure whether he should change her or leave her in her clothes. her outfit was not too uncomfortable that he would feel the need to change her but he knew that skinny jeans and a short crop top weren’t exactly the definition of comfy. he took off her heels softly and decided to leave her like this, scared of stepping over boundaries.

with a last glance over her to make sure everything was okay, he left his room and got ready for the guest room. why he didn’t think of putting her there didn’t even cross his mind, for him it was an obviousness. it felt natural for him even though they had never met in real life before.

with a gentle smile on his face, he finally found sleep after spending thirty minutes thinking about his day and how it turned out.

it was the scent of breakfast that woke amara up from her deep slumber. the moment she left her state of reduced mental activity and her body got control of her conscience, her head began pounding, throbbing with high frequency.

she turned around, trying to extend her comfort but it turned out to be useless with a big headache preventing her. her eyelids opened slowly and closed in the same tempo once they made contact with the bright sun shining through the windows. the curtains which were drawn in front of it barely made an attempt to stop the powerful sun from shining through.

again, the scent of breakfast made its way into amara’s nose, a loud grumble of her stomach following next yet she had no desire to leave the bed. her body snuggled against the big, cloudy duvet that she covered it with and her head felt like paradise, laying on the comfortable big pillow.

as she felt another sharp pain in her head, she decided to stand up and realised she was not in her new parisian apartment she had recently rented, looking at her surroundings. instead of her usual marble nightstand, where a candle and a box of tissues were located, she was met with a white night stand that contained her purse and phone.

instantly, memories of the previous night rushed through her mind at the sight of the black hermes clutch she remembered having worn yesterday. amara also noticed that she still wore yesterday’s clothes which filled her body with relief. she had excluded the scenario of having slept with someone -- for that her left bedside was way too tidy and she had slept too messily -- but was grateful, she hadn’t done anything stupid last night.

removing the big, white sheets from her body, amara stood up, incapable of calming her desire for food down anymore. especially when it smelled like pancakes and waffles, her typical hangover food. she tip-toed through the room, spotting her high heels next to the bed as she looked for a place where she could charge her phone. she found success in the corner next to the nightstand and plugged her phone in before leaving it like that. either way, amara was sure that it would collapse again from all the messages that would be flooding her notification centre.

she followed the smell of food that brought her to the kitchen finding the man that had been kind of enough to let her stay. he was standing behind the stove, moving to the music in his airpods, as he flipped the pancakes. amara remembered only bits of him last night, the strongest information being his smile.

kylian looked up and greeted the singer, standing at the dining table in the kitchen with a smile. he reached for his phone next to him and stopped the music playing in his headphones to give her all his attention. “bonjour madame dormir,” he joked, and amara immediately noticed the two small dips that formed around his smile that were so attractive to her last night. and still were.

“bonjour ky-,” she started, embarrassment visible on her face as she failed to remember the name of the man that had been more than kind to her. she searched her mind for any memory or hint of his name but came up empty which kylian found highly amusing.

“it’s kylian,” he replied, amusement clearly visible on his face.

amara slapped a hand on her mouth to stop herself from laughing but only managed to hide the small chuckles that left her lips. “i am so sorry,” she mumbled, apologizing.

he waved dismissively, not caring about her failed attempt to remember his name. truthfully, he hadn’t expected her to remember anything, after all he had seen the amount she had drunk yesterday.

“don’t worry about it,” he assured her, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. along with two painkiller pills, he handed it to her which she took gratefully but couldn’t contain the surprise at his behavior. she finished the glass of water in one big gulp, her head immediately feeling relieved after the intake of medicine and took place at the big kitchen counter.

“so, i didn’t really know what you would like for breakfast but I guess, you can’t go wrong with pancakes and waffles, right?” he chatted, his good mood clear in his voice as he handed Amara a plate of pancakes with fruits as side. she hesitantly accepted the plate, not because she was wary of the food but more because she wasn’t used to this treatment.

In nearly two years of relationship they had had, evan had never acted the way kylian did. whenever she would come home from a night out with friends or family, he would watch her suffer in silence and continue on with his day. not that she expected him to do so but it would have been nice to know your boyfriend cared after seeing his girlfriend hungover with a headache.

she hadn’t been very subtle with her reluctance to take the place as kylian asked her after it. she shook her head dismissively, soft smile gracing her lips. “it’s just, I’m not used to this. ev- he never did this for me. I would have to do everything.”

“he’s an idiot,” kylian commented dryly. “he doesn’t know what he’s missing.” he added before finally starting to eat.

it wasn’t an awkward silence between them. they were comfortably eating in each other’s presence after such an eventful night. amara enjoyed her breakfast to the fullest as well as this uncomplicated time. she knew the moment she stepped into out of this apartment, she would clash with reality again and brought back to her current life.

looking at the time, amara was shocked to see that it was already half past twelve. she wasn’t in a hurry but also didn’t want to extend her stay. she couldn’t avoid reality forever.

“you didn’t tell me what exactly made you think paris could be your escape place,” kylian began, trying to start a conversation. amara groaned, knowing she would embarrass herself again with her answer.

“well, i was on tour like i said before all this happened. and my next show should have been in Nice — actually it was in Nice. so we went there, i performed and then i had a mental breakdown and couldn’t perform anymore. i had to stop my performance and later then stop my tour because the media was destroying me. but grace, my pr-manager and best friend, thought i couldn’t stay in nice so she placed me in paris, organized everything and practically send me there. i’m just trying to make the most out of my situation at the moment.” she explained, somehow embarrassed about the way she sounded. “or maybe, that’s even the end of my musical career.”

“you shouldn’t say stuff like this, people might think you believe that,” kylian advised softly, “if i said stuff like that after every loss, i would be fresh meat for the wolves. you need to carry yourself, be confident. the mind is as important as your own image.”

“easier said than done.”

finishing her food, she stood up and headed for the bedroom in which she had spent the previous night in. she passed several pictures, hung up in the hallway that her eyes lingered on. she envied the smile he was pictured with, lifting the world cup. or the way the twinkle in his eyes shined through the picture as he held the ligue 1 cup he had won with his team. she remembered the way it used to be her.

the girl who couldn’t believe her dream had become true. they had called her the next beyonce, the upcoming queen of pop/ rnb because she liked to mix both styles in her song. back then it had been everything to her. she had poured everything into her first album and it had won her a grammy. she had carried that spark into her relationship but a year into it and it had extinct.

she had to admit to herself that the critics were right about her second album. it was mediocre in comparison to her first one. the songs were not dull but they also didn’t bring out the usual effect that was normally carried through her songs. it hadn’t flopped but it also hadn’t been what she had imagined. she had disappointed herself and that always hurt more.

amara picked up her charger and purse and put on her high heels, ready to leave. as she walked through the floor, she stopped again in front of the picture that had instantly caught her attention when she had walked through the hallway the first time.

just the way he seemed so happy, pure happiness radiating from the picture. it was nearly embarrassing that she couldn’t remember anymore when she had been this happy. he had a firm grip around the trophy, the golden medal around his neck overshadowed by it. she felt the way her face loosened, a fond smile appearing slowly on her lips.

“beautiful right?”

she flinched, turning around swiftly to find kylian leaning at the door, arms crossed loosely. he had a smirk on his face, amara didn’t know whether it was because he surprised her or because he caught her staring. “we had actually won the ligue four games before but it’s always another feeling actually holding the trophy. c’est un sentiment extraordinaire.” -- it’s an incredible feeling

“i remember holding my first award.” amara told him, smiling just at the thought of that night. “i was so nervous and it was a bit heavy so it actually fell out of my hands. it was just so surreal.” the sound of her laughter reminded kylian of music. he didn’t know if it was a singer thing that your laugh had to be melodic but he didn’t care. if he could, he would listen to the sound of her laughter everyday.

they walked back to the living room and amara took place on one of the small armchairs that was seated next to a big plant. she looked out of the big window, in awe with the view. for the amount of money he must have paid for this apartment, the view was certainly worth it. from her location, she was able to see the most beautiful things that made paris the so-called city of love. amara recognized the eiffel tower in all its beauty, rising magically into the sky.

“so… how long do you plan on staying?” kylian asked, taking place next to her. he was dragging out her stay while amara was reluctant to extend her stay. although they had only known for a couple of hours, there was chemistry between them.

but he wasn’t the only one not wanting to leave. not when he felt so warm, his apartment felt like home. she felt a sense of belonging even if she had only spent one night.

“don’t really know. a month, a week -- it all depends on how long the media are gonna paint me as a whore and homewrecker.” she replied emotionless, “i mean, i’m not even on social media and i still know what people are saying about me.”

a hint of bitterness followed her voice as she spoke, the resentment against the negative terms she had said were clear in her voice. she swallowed the lump in her throat, not wanting to seem emotional again in front of him.

“so… what are your plans?”

she shrugged, chuckling at her own reaction. “music, music and maybe if i have a bit time left, more music.

“remember to write a song about me okay?” he suggested in a snickering tone.

she was about to answer but her phone screen lit up, notifying her that grace had called her several times last night and had just tried again to reach her. she sighed, knowing what this would be about. at kylian’s questionable glance, she turned towards, sighing again. “probably a call to tell me there has been new press. maybe this time they’re saying that I deliberately destroyed their couple? who knows at this point.”

amara stood up, grabbing her purse as she got ready to leave. by now it was surely past two. “i really need to leave now. i’ve already extended my stay by long now.” she said kindly.

he wanted to protest but who was he in her life to stop her? he had only known her for a few hours, he wasn’t in any position to beg her to stay. so against his will, he accompanied her to the door, he was surprised at himself, it had never been this hard to let a person go. not even the one night stands he had actually felt a connection with. she was different.

she would have probably stood there forever, staring into his eyes. even though they were dark, amara was able to separate the black of his pupil from his dark brown irises. the sound of her phone vibrating again, brought her out of her trance.

“well, i guess i really need to leave now. thank you so much for letting me stay here again, you really saved me yesterday. would have been really difficult for me. and breakfast was amazing.” she thanked him, taking him into her arms for a quick hug.

“it was nothing, don’t worry.” he retorted dismissively but amara shook her head firmly, contradicting him.

“no, it’s not nothing,” she objected, “you took me, a stranger, who was drunk, in and let me add, you let me sleep at yours and made me breakfast in the morning. that’s not nothing kylian. i’m very thankful for this.”

she was about to turn and press the door handle, to leave the apartment but she decided against.

“you know, i could always give you my number,” amara suggested slyly, grinning brightly, “that way, we can arrange for part two of this.”

“i also think you should give me your number. after all, i have to reach you somehow in case to remind you about my impending song.” he replied, smiling at her and amara found herself falling again for it. the way his smile and the two small dips that formed around his cheeks always were always able to make her swoon, should be studied.

the singer grabbed the first thing she saw in her view that she was able to write with and grabbed the striker’s arm, writing her number along with her name on his forearm. amara

he looked at his arm, amused at the black ink and smiled even brighter when he noticed the little heart next to her name. amara reached forward and pressed a soft kiss on kylian’s cheek, inhaling the smell of his cologne as her skin made contact with his.

“i hope you call,” amara added. the smile that graced her lips was mesmerizing. kylian was used to see it on tv, maybe even on the red carpet but he would have never expected that it would happen here, in the hallway of his apartment. that he would receive her hundred million dollar smile right here.

“i promise i will.”

with a last wave, she left his apartment to go handle the chaos in her own life.

he hated watching her go and just wished that she would stay. he walked back to his bedroom and let himself fall on the bed. opening his phone, he quickly realised that his phone would probably become his best friend in the coming days with her number still written on his arm.

he typed her number into his phone and saved her contact under amara, adding the small heart as she had done on his arm. somehow looking at her profile picture on messenger or stalking her page in instagram filled his heart with a sense of innocent amore.

was he attracted to her? yes. but was that the reason that kylian was so taken to her? no. she was nothing short of perfect (even if she would wholeheartedly disagree). and kylian couldn’t fathom for his life how someone so angelic ended up with a sleaze bag like evan henderson.

he knew it was a long shot but he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that she was his at the end of the day. that all her songs from now on would be about him, and they would never be sad or heartbroken, because she would always be happy with him.

kylian was determined that all his goals would be dedicated to her, that they would be each other's safe space, home bestfriend and lover. and that he would never hurt her like evan did. maybe she hadn’t been as lovestruck as he had been, but he would wait for her, he would be patient. because she was worth all the time in the world.

kylian:

hey

amara:

hi

you actually texted

kylian

je le t’avais promis, n’est-ce pas?

amara:

well, the official rule is to wait three days after a date before you text

kylian:

three hours, three days, its all the same

so when am i getting that song?