#kylian mbappe fic

[spidybaby]

Gold digger

Summary: A lost item at the airport and a miscommunication can be the end of your relationship.

Warning: cursing.

Part two

A/N: This is pure exaggeration. Please don't believe this is based on any real action. ❤️

Stress

Was a short-term for Kylian current status.

He lost his toiletry bag at the plane, even tho you fly private, he managed to lose his personal things.

"Kylian, can you please calm down. Everything is going to be okay. We have already changed the house locks, and we froze you credit cards, and they're looking for it." You say massaging his shoulders.

"I can't help but worry, that's my whole identity. I have nothing now."

He was worried because his father suffered from identity theft.

"You have something."

"What?"

"You have me," you hug him from behind. "I know it's not too much, but I'll make sure all your things return to you Kylian. Even if I have to search the plane myself."

He smiles at your reflection on the mirror.

"You're more than enough."

After a small talk, you both were getting ready for his birthday dinner, planning it, and having everything ready from where you were vacationing was hard, but you managed to do it.

When the family started to arrived, you greet everyone and made sure they were all conformable.

"Honey, can I use your bathroom, the two down here are busy."

Wilfrid asked you.

"Yes, use any of the upstairs bathrooms. You don't have to ask, please do."

Wilfrid went upstairs to his sons bathroom, he sees Ethan getting out of your room. "Gotcha," he jokes.

"Jeez, the bathroom is still busy downstairs?"

"Yes, it is. Why do you think I'm here?"

"I'll be with everyone, be careful with the hand washing, y/n got her makeup very close to there and we don't want to ruin anything."

"I'll be careful, go have fun."

Wilfrid did what Ethan told him. He was careful with your makeup.

"Oh, merde," he couldn't find a towel to dry his hands and didn't want to shake them scared to ruin something.

After looking around a little, he noticed the navy blue hand towel on top of a travel bag. Probably Kylians.

"Oh, Ethan, always so messy."

He picked the towel and dried his hands. He was about to leave when he noticed what was inside of the travel bag.

Kylian lost toiletry bag.

He grabbed it, checking it inside. Everything was there, his wallet, his keys, his documents. He was relieved that everything was there.

He was about to turn around and go find everyone to share the news, but he notice other thing.

The travel bag wasn't his son's.

It has some of your personal belongings.

"What?" He's confused about why you have it.

To be honest, he wasn't your biggest fan. He always got that feeling about you that didn't quite convince him about you.

Kylian, of course, always told him off.

But this time, he had proof.

He exists the room as fast as possible, looking for Kylian.

"Arrête, Kylian." He called when he saw him doing shots with Tchaga. "Come with me."

He was confused but did what his father told him. Wilfrid dragged him to his room.

"What is going on with you?"

"Shut up, did you find your things?"

Kylian rolled his eyes. He got asked the same question several times.

"Non."

"What if I told you that it has been on your home all this time?"

"Quoi?" He asked confused

Wilfrid walked back inside the bathroom to grab the big bag, throwing it onto the bed.

"Look inside." His father ordered him.

He does as he's told.

Opening the bag that was originally his, but after a few vacations with you, you made it your own.

When he opens the bag, the first thing he sees is his lost bag.

"You find it." He says excited. "Merde, thank you so much." He was happy. All his things are secured with him.

He's about to hug his father but notices his cold expression.

"I found it, but I found it here."

Kylians frowns.

"That's impossible."

"Is it?"

"Dad, c'mon, what are you implying?"

Wilfrid thinks his words before saying them. "She had the bag Kylian."

But he knew she didn't. He was sure his girlfriend, the one who saw him cry in distress because of the lost of the bag.

"Non."

"Kylian, why would I lied?"

"Non, there has to be another explanation."

"Oh really, then tell me what it is?"

"Don't move."

He's furious. He walks fast looking for you.

"Y/n," he called your name, noticing you and his mother were talking. "Can I borrow you for a second."

"Sure, bébé. I'll be right back."

When you started walking upstairs, he grabbed your arm and hurried your steps.

"Ouch, Ky." You tried to let go, but he wouldn't.

Once he enters the shared room, you see his father.

"Ky, let go, please. You're hurting me."

His father is looking at you with an angry expression.

"What's wrong?" You ask, arm still on his hand. "Kylian, let me go. Please."

He let go of you. He was angry, you know by looking at his face.

"I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me." He says elevating the tone. "Where is my bag?"

"What?" You were confused. "Why would I know?"

"Don't." Wilfrid says. "You sure you don't know?"

"Why would I know?" You repeat. "Kylian, what the fuck?"

He walked to the bed, where the bag you used for your things during this vacation was laying. He opens it and pulls his bag.

"Want to explain yourself?" You look at Wilfrid and then back at Kylian.

You stayed quiet, the tension was thick.

"You believe I did this?"

Kylian is not looking at you anymore. He's looking at the window.

"Kylian," you call higher this time. "You believe I did this?"

He shakes his head. "No, I know there has to be an explanation for this."

"I don't understand." You wanted to cry. "Why would I do this?"

"I'll tell you why?" Wilfrid says. "Take this as you want, but you're a broken college student. You're full of debts. Don't think we don't know that." He says harshly. "So you did it as a way of pretending someone else did it. You know all his card codes it was easy money and bye debts."

You can feel your heart breaking. You didn't know his father had that image of you. Wonder if his whole family thinks the same.

"Kylian." You say out of breath. "You think that too?"

"No, of course no." He's trying to get to you, but you're backing away. "Dad, I don't think. No. Maybe you forgot you put it there."

You shake your head. "I didn't take it. Believe me."

"Then why was it there?" The harsh tone didn't cease.

"I don't know." You start to cry. "I didn't take it, Kylian, please."

"I think," he says before kylian could talk. "You need to pack your stuff and leave. I don't trust you around my son, and I'm not going to allow you to be here seeing what you did. I'm not going to allow a gold digger to be with my son."

You feel humiliated. The man you love is hearing how his father insults you and won't bat an eye.

"Kylian." You tried one more time.

"Kylian, go outside, go back to the party."

The way he obeys his father is incredible for you. He didn't even look at you. His head is hung down.

Once he left you two alone, Wilfrid walked up to you. "Pack your stuff, and don't try anything, I'll call you a cab." You nodded, scared.

He left the room, going downstairs, he sees Kylian chugging a whole glass of liquor. He can't imagine how he's feeling.

"Hey, dad." Ethan called his father attention. "Come here."

Ethan takes his father a little far from where his brother and friends are.

"Guess what I did." He's smiling like crazy.

"I don't know, tell me."

"Well, I spent the whole day at the airport, I found Kylian bag, I know he's down because of that, y/n told me how he's all sad. So I went there and they found it with the covers of the seats at the laundry station."

Wilfrid feels his blood turn cold.

"I left it in one of his bags and covered it with the towel, I'm telling y/n so she can surprise him. Have you seen her?"

The smile on Ethan face is making him feel worse, his eyes turning to Kylian, sitting at the couch trying not to break down. All because of him.

"Merde," he turns around, looking for you.

When he opens the door, he finds uncontrollably crying, packing all your stuff.

"Y/n," he says, getting closer.

"Don't worry, I'll be quick, I'm only taking my own stuff, that I bought with my own money."

He saw how you pack, not knowing how to fix the mess he created.

"Y/n." Ethan calls. "Y/n? What are you doing?" He's now worried. "Dad?"

"Ethan, please go downstairs." You say not wanting him to see you like that. "Please, it's okay, I'm fine. Just go."

"But."

"Go, I'm fine, E."

Wilfrid feels like throwing up, even when he had treated you like crap and accused you of something so terrible, you treated Ethan with such love.

Etha runs downstairs, looking for his brother.

"Kylian, come, please. I don't know what's going on, she's crying, she's packing."

All his friends turned to him, getting worried about the angst scene the little Mbappé is on."

"Kylian, move your fucking ass."

"Don't bother Ethan, just forget about it. Go eat something and ignore everything."

Everyone is looking at Kylian with amused expressions.

"Kylian, is this about the fucking bag? Because if it is, I already told dad that I found it, it's on your dior travel bag. Now can you please come."

His eyes snapped back at his brother. "You did what?"

"I found the fucking pouch, now come upstairs quickly."

Kylian pushes his friends in order to run upstairs. Finding his father outside of the door.

"What the fuck did you do? You told me she had it." He screams. His whole family and friends are now aware of the situation. "What the fuck?"

He enters the room, finding you closing your big suitcase. "Amour, please hear me out."

"Why?" You say angrily. "So you can let your father call me a gold digger again? For you to let me get humiliated by him?"

"What?"

You both turned to Ethan and Fayza, they're standing outside of the closet.

"Dad called you what?" Ethan asks.

"Ethan, please don't get involved into this."

"No! What the fuck is wrong with you, dad?"

"Ethan," you call him. "Please, don't do this."

Fayza and Wilfrid are arguing. She's trying to understand the situation.

"You," E, says, pressing his finger hard into his brothers chest. "Let's him call her a Gold Digger?"

"He said she took the fucking bag" he justified.

"Oh and you fucking believe that?" He laughs "Kylian, your girlfriend have had your whole bank account information for years, she had been taking care of important and expensive jewelry. And you believed that shit?"

You wanted to cry again, Ethan was right. You have been helping your boyfriend with his finances for a long time now, all because you were studying a financial career.

"Y/n, darling, grab your stuff, we're leaving." Fayza says angrily. "And you, she turns to Kylian. "You disappoint me so much, how could you?"

"Fayza, it's okay, I already called a friend." You don't want his family to have a fight because of you.

"Nonsense, you're coming with me. Ethan, help her with her things." Ethan runs to you. "You don't deserve this, I'm sorry."

You let Ethan take your suitcase downstairs.

"Y/n, please amour."

"No!" You push him away. "I've never done anything for you to doubt about me. I was the one who offered you to pay for the things at the hotel, I've been the one who takes care of your wallet and watches during games or parties." You pause, taking air, you wanted to let out everything. "I rejected your help when you offered to pay for my loans, I said no. You want to know why?" You turn to Wilfrid.

At this point, both Kylian and you are crying.

"Because I'm not here for the money, I earn my own, and yes, I'm a broken college student, but I know how to work hard for what I want."

He only look at his shoes.

"Please don't go, I need you."

"No, Kylian." You laugh. "You don't need me. Why would you need someone like me? To feel more important?"

"No, amour."

"Don't call me like that." You scream at him. "I don't want to see you again, I'm done."

"Please," he begged. "What am I going to do without you?"

"I don't know, Kylian." You shake your head. "But if you ever need a gold digger, call me up. Apparently, your father thinks I'm one."

[sorceresski]

Le Matin - Kylian Mbappé x reader

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x gf!reader

Contains; bit of fluff, smut (dry humping, p in v, unprotected sex)

You woke up to find yourself pressed against his side, his hands lazily roaming your body. Kylian would run his hands down your back to your arse and back up, exploring.

You held back a shiver as he stroked patterns on your bare shoulder. He didn’t seem to be doing it consciously, it wasn’t inherently sexual, but it sent tingles down your spine.

He pulled you impossibly closer as you snuggled into him, breathing in his familiar scent. It was one of those mornings where everything felt perfect. The warmth of being wrapped in your boyfriend’s arms, the sun beginning to rise, chasing the blue night sky and casting the morning in a dull grey.

You snuck a glance up at him to find him staring straight at the ceiling deep in thought. You observed his relaxed demeanor, wondering what he could be thinking so early in the morning.

Kylian caught your gaze and you ducked your head back into his bare chest. “You’re awake.” A statement, but you nodded.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, struggling to ignore his hands which rested on your hips, occasionally slipping underneath your shorts to grope your ass.

“Everything. Us.” Oh. You both fell into a comfortable silence again, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You draped a leg across his waist and nuzzled his neck, leaving soft kisses and nibbles on his neck, to his jaw, and back down to his neck. He sighed in content, shutting his eyes. Kylian reveled in your touch.

He raised your chin and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. He pulled back and watched you watch him. There was something in his eyes you’d never seen before. They held so much love for you in that moment, it almost scared you.

But before you could dwell on that thought, Kylian was crashing his lips back onto yours. Still soft, but with renewed passion. You moaned into his mouth. Before long, you felt his hardness pressing into your thigh that was draped over his waist.

You ran a hand down his chest, following his happy trail as it disappeared below the waistband of his sweatpants. He let out a breathy moan, letting his head fall back to the pillow, as your hand wrapped around his length.

You gave it a tug as you grimaced playfully. “Why are you so horny?”

He chuckled, “You’re the one with her hand down my pants at 6 in the morning. You started it.”

“Oh so I should stop then?” You pulled your exploring hand back.

Kylian brought you to straddle him effortlessly, sporting a shit-eating grinning. “I’m not saying you should.”

Grinning as well, you leaned down to kiss him. His hands were back on you. They roamed from your neck, back, hips. You were vaguely aware of your dampness as he began to rock you back and forth on his length.

He sat up with you still straddling him. You ground your hips against him, still separated while he began an assault on your neck. You moaned as you felt him graze his teeth against that spot he found that always drives you crazy.

Your singlet top had come off sometime in his ministrations and Kylian was now kissing his way down to breasts.

“Allez, on your stomach.” He patted the bed and placed a pillow for you to lay on.

You shivered in anticipation as you lay down ass up, still in your shorts. You watched him take off his sweatpants, his hardness springing out deliciously.

He traced his fingers down your spine and hooked his fingers in your shorts, taking them off, exposing you to him.

You held your breath as Kylian pushed your legs apart and settled between them. You jutted out your hips in response as he ran a finger through your wet folds

“You’re so agreeable in the morning.” He said, to which you rolled your eyes.

“Kylian…” you whined, hoping he’d give you what you wanted without more teasing.

You moaned into the mattress as he pressed into you, bottoming out in one slow thrust. He gripped your waist, as he repeated the motion a few more times. He was being delicate with you this morning for some reason.

“Kylian please.” You didn’t care how needy you sounded anymore. He chuckled and picked up the pace, placing his hands on each side of your head as he thrust into you with new fervor, though still gentle.

You thrashed beneath him as he hit that spot over and over, your wails muffled by his sheets, the same ones which you held onto. He was on his elbows now, his breath hot against your neck.

“Let me hear you baby,” he whispered through clenched teeth. “Talk to me.”

You moaned in response. You felt your arousal building up. “Oh, Kylian. I’m close.” He showered your neck with kisses that drove you closer to the edge , pressing you into the bed with each thrust of his hips.

You loved how he was partially resting his weight on you. You felt his body move against yours with each thrust.

“Fuck!” You wail as he picks up the pace even more. His movements becoming more erratic.

“Come for me, baby,” he said, reaching his hand underneath you to find your clit. It was your undoing.

“I’m-” Your words stay in your throat as you’re overwhelmed with heady pleasure. Spasms rack through you beneath him as your orgasm hit, you’re grasping for his sheets. Your walls clenching around him was enough to send him spiraling as well.

He came in you with a grunt and one last snap of his hips just as you came down from your high. He collapsed onto you, spent from the effort and his own pleasure.

“Merde,” Kylian said as he rolled off, remembering he was heavier than you. You weren’t fazed though, you gave him a very satisfied smile. To which he chuckled and pulled you closer like before, except now you were both naked under the sheets.

“Wow,” you muttered still trying to calm your breathing. “Why have we never tried this position before?”

Kylian laughed out loud at that, a deep hearty laugh. “Who’s the horny one now?”

You smacked his chest playfully, it was going to be a great day.

A/n; biannual Kylian smut and horniness 🫡

[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

[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

[lfcslut]

trust

pairing: kylian mbappe x reader

summary: it's 2am. kylian is calling and calling but you aren't picking up. he lets his anxiety get the better of him. based on this request.

words: 1.6k

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of infidelity, mentions of alcohol

author's note: this was so fun to write! i love writing kylian so much. hope you all enjoy :)

"Mon amour, where are you? Call me back. I'm worried."

This was perhaps the twelfth voicemail Kylian had left you that night. It was well past 2AM. You had gone out to celebrate the end of finals with some of your friends. Kylian had encouraged you to go, knowing how hard you had worked this semester. He knew and loved all of your friends from school, and there had never been any reason for him to not trust you. You had told Kylian that you would be home by midnight and to not wait up for you. Well, midnight had turned into 1AM, which had turned into 2AM, and you were nowhere to be found. You weren't answering his text messages and your calls were going straight to voicemail.

"Dammit," Kylian muttered to himself when his thirteenth call went to voicemail. He told himself not to panic. Your phone was always dying while you were out, no matter how many times Kylian told you to make sure it was fully charged before leaving the house. Yet, as the minutes ticked on, and Kylian lay wide awake in bed, unable to fall asleep without you next to him, the what ifs and worst case scenarios crept into his mind. What if you had gotten into an accident on your way home? What if you had been kidnapped by a stranger at the club? What if you had taken this opportunity to leave him for someone else? Kylian was not typically the anxious type, but he felt his muscles tense up and his heart start to beat faster as his mind ran through all of the possibilities.

Punctuality had never been your strong suit, he thought to himself. Soon after the two of you started dating, he learned that if you told him you would be there at a certain time, you actually meant that you would be there about thirty minutes after that. He had affectionally started teasing that you had your own standard time. You were always in your own timezone, in your own world, playing by your own rules.

Tonight was different, though. Even on your worst days, you had never been more than two hours late without at least a phone call. He thought about going out and looking for you, but he realized that you hadn't even told him which club you were going to. He could drive around Paris, scouring the streets for you, calling out your name like you were a lost pet - maybe even putting up missing signs (Have you seen this girl? Report all sightings by calling this number. Do not run after her - she doesn't like to be chased. Trust me, I would know) - but he knew it would be useless. Kylian finally sat up in bed and decided to call some of your friends who he knew you had gone out with. No answer. The lump in his throat grew ten times bigger. What if you weren't where you said you would be? This thought had never, ever crossed his mind before. Trust was such an important part of your relationship that it had never come into question in the four years you had been together. He never had any reason not to fully trust you, and he knew you felt the same about him. But in the wee hours of the morning, the insecurities Kylian never knew he had came crawling out into the open.

3:43. That was the time on the bedside clock when Kylian heard the security system go off downstairs. He heard you fumble as you struggled to remember the code to turn the alarm off. His exhaustion had finally gotten the best of him and he had dozed off a few minutes ago. He heard the stair boards creak as someone walked up the stairs. Was it finally you?

"Kyky!"

He knew instantly that you were drunk. Your words were slurred and you were stumbling around in the dark, barely able to keep your own body upright. Kylian hurriedly stood up, worried that you would fall, and helped you to your side of the bed. As soon as you sat down, you wrapped your arms around him.

"Baaaaby, I missed you 'smuch," you said, as you placed sloppy kisses all over him. Your breath smelling of vodka and cigarettes.

"Y/N, stop," Kylian said, pulling away from you. You looked up at him, surprised by his sudden coldness. "Where were you? I've been calling you like crazy."

"'m sorry, my phone died."

Kylian stood up from the bed and started pacing the bedroom, arms folded across his chest. His eyes were tracking the floor.

"I even called your friends and no one answered! Do you know how fucking worried I was?"

The harshness in his tone made you sober up quickly. "Ky, I'm so sorry, we were all drunk out of our minds."

"You said you would be back by midnight, it's almost fucking four am!" He raised his voice at you, which made you flinch.

"I said I was sorry!"

"Who were you with? You smell like cigarettes and I know you don't smoke." Kylian was standing dead in his tracks now. You didn't recognize the look in his eyes - a mixture of sheer exhaustion and absolute rage.

"People around me in the club were smoking."

"Bullshit. Who is he?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused as to what he was talking about. "What?"

"I said, who is he? What's his name?"

"Ky, you're being insane right now."

"I never thought you would hurt me like this, Y/N. I thought we were going to get married, I thought it was going to be us until the end."

"Ky, stop it! Do you really think I would cheat on you?"

"I don't know, where were you? Why are you four hours late and drunk out of your mind?"

You stared at him for a minute. You couldn't believe he was being serious right now. Yes, you were late and probably should have called, but you didn't think that your actions had warranted this kind of a response. You hesitated, half wondering if you should just leave and spend the night with a friend, before finally taking out your phone and plugging it into the charger.

"What are you doing?"

You didn't answer for a moment, sitting down on the bed and facing away from him. You couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. "Showing you proof," you said quietly. "Something I never thought I would have to do."

The two of you sat in silence, backs facing away from each other, for a moment while your phone began to start up again. After a minute, you pulled up your camera roll and tossed your phone towards Kylian, not even bothering to look at him. Kylian picked up the phone and began scrolling through all of the countless photos that you and your friends had taken that night. There were videos of you taking shots, photos of you posing in the bathroom with your girlfriends, clips of all of you dancing together, not a single man in sight.

"Oh," was all Kylian could say as he stared down at the phone, shame swelling up inside of him as he realized just how wrong he was.

"Happy now?"

"Cherie, I'm sorry."

"Forget it. I thought we were never going to do this, Kylian. I thought that no matter what happened, we were going to at the very least always trust each other." You stood up, almost completely sober by this point. "Now we don't even have that." You walked towards the bathroom, taking off your dress as you did so. Kylian followed behind you.

"I'm so, so sorry. I never should have said those things. I was just so worried."

"Yeah, and I know I should have called, but that doesn't give you the right to accuse me of cheating." You were standing in front of the mirror in your underwear while Kylian was behind you. You refused to look at him, instead searching around for your makeup wipes, hoping that Kylian wouldn't notice the wetness that had begun to form in your eyes.

"Please," Kylian pleaded, his voice cracking softly as he came up behind you and put his arms around your waist. "Forgive me, amour. I don't know what got into me. It'll never happen again."

To your surprise, you didn't push him away, though you continued to refuse to meet eyes, focusing instead on removing your makeup. "I would never in a million years accuse you of cheating on me."

"I know, baby, I know." Kylian kissed you on the cheek from behind. He wiped away the single tear that was falling from your eye. "No crying, princesse, please."

The two of you stood there for a few moments as Kylian rested his head on your shoulder, arms still wrapped around your waist, and you continued to remove your makeup. Your silence conveyed more than you could say in that moment - mostly, it said, I accept your apology.

After you had brushed your teeth and changed into your pajamas, Kylian helped you into bed and tucked you in like he normally did every night, planting a kiss on both of your cheeks. He then got into bed himself and took you into his arms. "I love you so much, princesse."

"I love you too, Ky," you whispered back to him.

"Sweet dreams, amour."

[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!

[lettersofgold]

Say you’ll never call but I still keep your number and your necklace. With Kylian please. ❤️

-> say you’ll never call but i still keep your number and your necklace.

kylian cared. but kylian didn’t care enough. he didn’t care when you told him, plainly, that you weren’t afraid to leave him because you hadn’t actually left. he didn’t care when you yelled at him for one thing or another. he just didn’t seem to care at all.

so when you told him one night, seething with anger unparalleled to anything he had experienced with you before, he was afraid. “whatever this is? it’s done do you hear me? it’s done!” you voice escalated with each word until your screamed that you were done in his face. he opened his mouth in protest but you cut him off before a single word came out. “i cannot believe you did this to me, after everything i told you. after every fucking thing,” you choked on your words and turned away from him. “after everything i did for us.”

kylian pleaded with you for the entire duration of you packing your clothes and toiletries into a bag - he had no idea where you were going but he had a feeling deep inside that you weren’t coming back. he had been right and his pleas to do better, to care, to be there for you - fell on deaf ears. it was months later and he hadn’t heard from you since. that was until he heard your laugh across the restaurant alongside your group of friends and a few new faces. specifically, male faces.

he saw you under the light, looking brand new. it was as if you had never met him - the grievances that showed on your face while you dated him were long gone and was replaced with happiness showing through the crinkles of your eyes as you laughed. you picked up your napkin and dabbed at your face, clearly catching the tears that formed from your banter with that unfamiliar man. when you dropped the napkin, kylian did a double take. he thought he was seeing it incorrectly but as he looked across the restaurant and narrowed his eyes, he was stunned. his necklace was still around your neck, many months later.

“i love this necklace,” you admitted, your finger hooked underneath. the sex was mind-blowing and kylian found so much satisfaction from seeing you tired and wrapped around him after making you orgasm multiple times.

“not a necklace, a chain.” he teased, propping himself up on his elbows. you rolled your eyes at him and his masculine gaze as his eyes trailed all the way down your naked backside and back up to your face. he reached over and tugged you on top of him and you straddled him with ease. you reached for his necklace again and he palmed your ass as he kept himself propped up. you reached for his necklace and unhooked it, placing it on yourself.

“how does it look?” you raised your hand up to your collarbone to fiddle with it. kylian wrapped his large hand around your neck with a firmness that made you gasp, leaving your mouth agape. he muttered something in french, probably a string of curse words. he used his grip to pull your face to his - not letting you kiss him just yet, letting the tension brew with only the sound being your quickening breath.

“you like it?” you had whispered weakly. kylian could still feel the weight and warmth of your body.

“love it.” he voiced and kissed you deeply, with a guttural moan that made you unravel at the audible approval. you thrived under words of affirmation and that was only intensified when you were in his bed. “it’s yours to keep.”

the memory was reeling in his brain and he had to occupy himself so he forced himself to down the rest of his wine. he didn’t want to think about it. he couldn’t continue to think about you but he couldn’t stop, especially with the fact that you were still wearing his necklace even after all that happened. even though he gave it to you, it was still his necklace.

“hi baby,” you would greet him after each match and he would place a kiss a on your forehead - if you fiddled with the necklace you were waiting for him to go on an a rant about how inept his team was. if you didn’t toy with it, you were content and expected him to want to celebrate all night. either way, you had been there for him, he realized and how he never showed up for you.

later that evening in the quiet of the night he took to stalking your social media to see what you were doing without him. you were living and happier than you had ever been with him. even in the best moments the two of you shared, it couldn’t compare to the life you seemed to display. the necklace was showcased on your neck in every photo as if you didn’t take it off. he toyed with the idea of texting you and evening calling you, but he settled with doing neither.

he checked your social media religiously- as soon as he woke up, when he had a break, and before he slept. he wanted to see that metaphorical tie to you. it brought him comfort. each day, as he clicked with a pounding heart, it stilled at the sight of the necklace. he could count on the sight despite his fear. he was proud of the mark he left, even if it was a shitty breakup. but the thought of the reminder of him being a constant in your life brought him a sick joy.

he woke up later than usual that day, groggy but awake nonetheless. he went through his texts and emails to find as he always did then moved to social media to see what you posted. the story was posted 12 hours ago and he clicked it without a single thought. it usually was a throwback photo or you wishing a friend a happy birthday. but not this time.

he sat up as he held down the story to continue to view it despite his own urges to toss the phone across the room. you were glowing, yet again. looking brand new. but you were brand new - a whole new woman with a whole new man. you sat on the lap of the man with a grin like no other, the man’s large palm gripping your thigh right where your dress ended. he was smiling too, but his focus was on you. he looked at you with the adoration kylian wished he had done in the past. he stared at your face fondly for a moment and looked for what he knew for certain to be there - but it wasn’t. there was no trace of the necklace, just tan skin and the straps of your dress.

he anger swelled all while his heart broke. could he be heartbroken over a relationship he failed? he thought to himself. he surely felt like he could and with the surge of anger and the weight of hurt, he did throw his phone across the room and didn’t care that it cracked against the floor.

[the-offside-rule]

Kylian Mbappe (Paris-Saint Germain) - Midnight

Requested: yes

Prompt: 8) One of the parents waking up to tend to the baby

Warnings: nope

In the cozy darkness of their bedroom, Kylian and Y/n stirred from their slumber as the faint cries of their newborn daughter echoed through the monitor on the bedside table. With a soft groan, Y/n reached out to nudge Kylian awake."Kylian." He hummed in response. "Babe, it's your turn." She whispered, her voice laced with exhaustion. Blinking away the sleep from his eyes, Kylian nodded, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. He slipped out of bed, the cool floor greeting his bare feet as he made his way to the nursery down the hall.

As he entered the room, the soft glow of the nightlight illuminated the scene before him. Their daughter lay in her crib, tiny fists clenched as she whimpered in distress. Kylian's heart swelled with love and determination as he scooped her up into his arms. "Shh, my little one, Papa's here." He cooed, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet room. With practiced ease, he cradled her against his chest, rocking her gently back and forth. Drawing upon his repertoire of French lullabies, Kylian began to sing softly, the words weaving a comforting spell around them both. The gentle rhythm of his voice seemed to work its magic, as their daughter's cries gradually softened into quiet whimpers.

With careful movements, Kylian prepared a bottle of warm milk, ensuring it was just the right temperature before offering it to their daughter. As she eagerly latched onto the bottle, he couldn't help but marvel at the tiny miracle in his arms. "You're doing great, ma petite." He murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. For what felt like an eternity, Kylian remained by her side, whispering words of love and reassurance until her eyelids grew heavy with sleep. With a contented sigh, she finally drifted off into peaceful slumber, her tiny chest rising and falling in rhythm with his own heartbeat.

As Kylian emerged from the nursery and returned to their bedroom, he found Y/n watching him with a mixture of amusement and affection. "What?" He asked as he climbed into the bed beside her. "Looks like someone's turned into a softie." She teased, a playful glint in her eyes. Kylian chuckled softly, slipping back under the covers. "Maybe just a little." He sighed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "But only for our little princess." He confessed, his voice filled with warmth. With a shared smile, they settled back into bed, the soft glow of the moonlight bathing them in its gentle embrace. In that moment, surrounded by love and the quiet hum of their home, they knew that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

[kiryoutann]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 ❀•°✮ [KYLIAN MBAPPÉ X FEM! READER]

MINORS do NOT interact. Warning(s): ex-fling, past friends-with-benefits relationship, alcohol, reader being a F1 driver.

Genre: romance, comedy.

Word count: 2,1k.

Blurb:

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. But, how can you when you accidentally marry your ex-fling—the star footballer, Kylian Mbappé—as a madness in your drunken stupor?

If you'd just trusted your gut feeling that going to Las Vegas was a bad idea rather than brushing it off as just one of many crazy thoughts going through your head, this would not have happened. Hell, you should have known better that being in the same place and attending the same party as an ex-fling is not going to do you any good despite all your efforts to avoid meeting him.

You squint in the sunshine that enters through the window. Morning has come and you hope to be able to reduce at least a little from the brightness of the giant orb in the sky to continue your sleep.

Your hand brushed the material of your dress from last night, relief washing over you knowing you didn't wake up naked after yet another drunken night's blunders.

Just when you were about to close your eyes again, your ears caught a soft snoring. Your eyelids shot open, your brows furrowed as you wondered if you really heard them or were just hallucinating from the lingering alcohol in your system. You got out of bed, focused your ears on the sound, and crawled to the end of the bed in that direction.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The man who was sleeping on the floor wearing nothing but his boxers startled and got up as soon as your yell reverberated throughout the room.

Finding yourself in your party dress laid out in bed is one thing; finding your ex-fling on the hotel room floor is quite another. The question on your face is so clear, not much different from Kylian who looks at you in confusion while he tries to gather consciousness as quickly as possible.

You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at him seriously. “Kylian,” you called out to him. "why are you in my room?"

Now that you mentioned it, he swept his gaze across the room. Your eyebrows rose one in curiosity as the corners of his lips curved up into a mocking smile rather than answering you.

"Your room?" Kylian chuckled lightly. “I never thought you had a PSG jacket. What happened to Mercedes?”

You follow his eyes and find a dark blue jacket draped over the arm of the sofa.

"Why am I in your room?" You corrected, can't help but almost wince from embarrassment.

As he sat down on the bed, Kylian shrugged casually, as if this were an everyday occurrence for him. Or perhaps it is.

“Kylian, I’m being serious.”

A groan came out of him. “How should I know? Maybe you got lost and knocked on my door and I was kind enough to open it for you." He gives you a half-hearted answer and then covers his face with a pillow in an attempt to get you to stop asking him questions so he can get some more rest.

Typical Kylian, always underestimating things. But you also get absolutely no hint that anything happened between you two except from the fact that he was only wearing boxers.

Well, he always sleeps like that anyway, you thought to yourself.

Feeling your gaze through his pillow, he peeked out to say: “Still here? Might as well cuddle with me, chère.”

It reminds you why meeting Kylian is the worst thing that could happen to you.

That should be good enough for you and him to be in the same room without anything seeming to be going on between you. But, anything can't be good enough when it comes to him—the same ex-fling you left the moment you know your last few sex didn't just feel like mere lust. Now that you think about it, you beg every God who exists not to give him the idea to bring it up.

Your lips had parted to respond to his smart remark when something started to ring. You and Kylian both turned to the phone on the nightstand, your hand took it to answer it after seeing the caller ID.

A beat before you answer in a cautious voice, "Hello?"

“Hey, uhm.. did you get my messages?”

“I guess? Sorry, Lewis, I just woke up and haven't checked yet—”

Your teammate interrupts you with a laugh. "A bad hangover?" he asked.

"No, no, not a hangover." You looked at Kylian who turned to look at you before answering, "Just confusion."

"Alright, well, I just wanted to let you know that.."

Lewis' voice mixes in as background noise as you sweep your gaze back across the room. From the PSG jacket Kylian mentioned earlier to the sunshine pouring all over the hotel's elegant marble flooring. Feeling an itch on your left ring finger, you intend to rub your thumb on the surrounding skin only to find cold touching it. You furrow your brows, landing your gaze on something shining around your finger.

A.. ring?

One that is definitely not to your taste. One that seems to be chosen in a hurry or chosen in a drunken state.

Did you steal someone's jewellery last night?

Obviously, you don't remember putting them on before walking into Lewis's party last night. Hell, you don't even like wearing jewelry around your fingers except for that one night where you punched someone in the face for touching your butt—which was a few years ago, which was the exact reason your manager wouldn't let you wear one anymore.

Kylian interrupts your train of thinking by removing something from his finger. You missed his confused look because you were too focused on what looked like a ring that seemed almost like yours, minus the large diamond in the middle.

Did you two somehow become partners in crime and rob a married couple last night?

No, that's too absurd, right? you think.

It's too absurd because if that was really the case your phone should have been bombarded with calls from your manager rather than Lewis. Rather than waking up in Kylian's hotel room—which is far too cozy to serve as a resting place for robbers—you'll instead be at the police station. Lewis's voice calling you fades into background as you scurry around looking for clues.

You're not even close to a nasty hangover yet, you're forgetting everything that happened last night.

The sound of you opening the nightstand drawer then rummaging through the dressers in the corner of the room made Kylian looked up from the ring in his hand. He follows your fast-moving figure, like a cop trying to find evidence of a crime.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

You don't answer. Your phone sits on the bed without ending the phone conversation with Lewis—the poor guy ends up hanging up before calling you again, probably thinking you've overslept his long babbling. However, the only thing that is currently occupying you is your confusion and your desire to know what really happened last night.

And why did you and Kylian wake up with wedding bands on.

Rather than relief, your heart dropped into your stomach as the answer presented itself before you.

Lying on the table near the shoe rack is a piece of paper with Kylian's and your full names written on it. You have a hunch you're not going to like what you read next but, continue by sweeping your gaze to the top of the document. Above it, the words 'Certificate of Marriage' were written in a bigger and more beautiful font.

The heart that fell into the stomach immediately stopped beating. You believe your life left you right then and there.

"Oh my God." Was the only thing you could say.

You hear Kylian scrambling down the bed. "What?" he asked, coming toward you, still not keeping his eyes on the document you were holding.

“We're..” You turned to him, staring with jaw hanging wide in shock. "We're married."

The frown between his brows deepened as Kylian opened his mouth, "We're what?" He was about to laugh thinking it was a joke, but his lips drooped after noticing you were actually serious.

The document in your palm caught Kylian's attention, and he picked it up to check it for himself. The writing on the paper is still the same; his name, your name, 'Certificate of Marriage' in large font, as well as some signatures and a stamp at the bottom that indicates this is legal and recognized by the state.

Out of all the things you could do when you're drunk drunk, you two choose to marry each other. Now, the thought of becoming a partner in crime and robbing a married couple doesn't sound so bad at all.

Kylian was as still as a statue. He inhaled deeply before turning to face you.

"Is this legal?" he asked.

“It's..”

Unsure of what you know, you pick up your phone again and open Safari. Your fingers type fast before clicking on an article that nearly perfectly describes your situation. Kylian watched your eyes go up and down reading the writing on the screen.

“It says they had a client from the UK who got married in Las Vegas, thought it was a “souvenir” and found out it was actually a legal marriage, even outside of the US. She ended up having to re-marry her UK spouse after annulling the Vegas marriage." To double check, you open a new article, read it and then confirm that it's really legit.

Kylian did nothing but stand up with his shoulders slagging. He gave the marriage certificate in his hand one more glance before asking, "What do you want to do?"

“What do I want to do? I want an annulment of course! Don't you?”

"Do you want to do it now?" he asked.

Before you could give your answer to him, your phone rang again. You picked up without reading the caller ID, thinking it was Lewis checking up on you.

“Lewis, sorry. Something—“

“Lewis?”

Instead of Lewis's voice, you grimaced at your manager's long ramblings. It was so loud, you're sure Kylian heard it from his expression which is not much different from yours. You pull your phone away from your ears ringing from Mia's high pitched voice telling you that you have a busy schedule today so you should move your ass out of bed and get going.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You sigh. "Yes, yes, I heard. Briefing at ten. You want me to get there before nine.” You said, hoping it was exactly what she said to you.

"You better not be late!"

You chose to ignore the hint of threat in her tone and hung up. When you went back to look at Kylian, he was still facing you and this time, his top lip was raised in a mocking smile. He already knows what you're going to say.

"Can the annulment wait?" you ask.

"Of course." He sounds more like happy than disappointed, which pisses you off. "Enjoy your time as my wife then."

Always with the unnecessary comment. You roll your eyes from it, rushing to collect yourbelongings before stuffing them into your small purse. Kylian had already thrown himself back into bed, wanting to enjoy his spare time with another sleep. You're envious of how he can be this calm about the situation.

Maybe this isn't his first Las Vegas marriage. You almost laugh from that.

After making sure nothing was left behind (because God knows you would hate to knock on his door and say you left something), you turned to him.

"We’ll talk about this later. Just.. stay in touch.”

Kylian acknowledged you with a brief hum. "You sure you won't ghost me again?"

Fuck. What's the deal with him constantly nudging a topic you're trying to avoid? Your lips closed in a thin line, trying not to overreact to another of his smart comments.

"We'll talk via Instagram."

The instant it left your lips, Kylian immediately opened his eyes wide, staring at you as if you were a crazy woman who had just appeared before him. A satisfied smile crawls onto your face thinking you're finally going to have the last word.

Wrong.

“Fine by me.”

Kylian took his ring from the nightstand, held it up high for you to see before putting on a smirk that brought out his dimples.

"Now you have a lucky charm, make sure you win the race." His eyebrows shot up towards your ring finger.

You left the room trying hard to get the damn ring off your finger. As Kylian's laughter reverberates throughout the room, your ears do their best to pretend to be deaf. You want to slam the door, but, unlucky for you, hotel doors always close very, very gently.

You shouldn't have went to Las Vegas.

Please do not associate this work with the real lives of the people in this story.

[jdbellingham]

LIGHT SWITCH

pairing : jude bellingham x reader

requests are open!!

word count: 472 (this is short lol)

summary: after being stood up time and time again, you finally give up on Jude.

warnings: cussing, angst

“IM SICK OF us being on and off like a fucking light switch!” She yelled, throwing her hands down. She gazed into Jude’s dark brown eyes which mirrored her own, large glistening pools about to overfill with tears. She could almost make out her own reflection in them, knowing that he could probably make himself out in hers.

“I’m sorry,” Jude replied, his voice quivering. Like a crackling fire, his voice was on the verge of fading into a faint whisper. His fingers clenched tightly into balled fists, fingernails digging crescent shaped wounds into his palm.

He watched as the girl he had loved since 12th year stared at his hands, then subconsciously tucked them behind his back. Flexing them to make sure there was still circulation.

“Jude I don’t want to do this,” She said, this time her voice slower and softer, comparatively gentle to the harsh words she had spoke just a few moments before. “But I have to, because I don’t want you to think that leaving me in front of restaurants and theatres time after time again, alone- is okay. And-”

“Y/n please,” Jude interrupted, his entire being was pleading, he would’ve dropped to his knees if she wanted him to. “I have loved you since i was 17, and I know at times I seem like a complete idiot, and I know for a fact I don’t deserve you. But I love you, Y/n L/n. I love you. And I’ll be damn stupid to let you leave. You are wonderful, and you are astoundingly smart,you are everything any man wants, and could ask for. But most of all, you are you. You are the girl who inspires me to change, you are the girl who I look forward to seeing every second of the day, and you are the person who not only makes people their best selves, you are the person who makes me, me. Y/n please just stay, I’ll make everything up to you, I’ll-”

This time it was Y/n who interrupted Jude, she had-had enough. She couldn’t take anymore before she would cave. One more word of his monologue and she would’ve folded before him and she’d have been the one begging for forgiveness.

“Jude,” Y/n began, and his sweet doe eyes lit up with hope,

“No,”

The light in his eyes vanished and the sound of his breath hitching filled the silence.

“Goodbye, Jude,” She said, the tears which she had held at bay for so long finally slipping down her face, and slowly but quite noticeably the tears multiplied. One tear became another, and suddenly her cheeks were streaked with warm salty drops. She quickly realized, and wiped what she could off, before whipping around and beginning to walk away.

And as much as she hated admitting it, she had hoped Jude would’ve stopped her.

do you guys want pt 2? feel free to send me suggestions!!

note: idk what this trash is, and ik i didn’t put it on the list of upcoming fics but I need to post smth bc my other fic is giving me writers block. anyway yeah don’t expect short stuff like this very often :)

TAKING REQUESTS!!!

[spidybaby]

Hi♥️

Can we get a Gold Digger Part III?

Gold Digger | Part III

Summary: Feeling fearful and insecure about the future after a downfall is what kept you away.

Warnings: cursing.

A/N: I've been trying to finish this for a long time. Not able to find the inspiration. Buuuuut, after the Euros match, I totally find the guts to open my drafts and finish what I've been procrastinating. Hope you still find this interesting and read it. Love you all 💛 sorry about the time.

Part one | Part two

London - Seventeen months later

"I think you're ready to go back. The question here is if you feel ready"

"I am. I think I've been ready for a while now."

"And what's stopping you?"

"What if we don't work out?"

"Time is unpredictable."

"What if he realized that I'm not what he wants anymore?"

"You know that is not the case. You told me that."

"I'm scared."

"It's okay, it's going to be fine."

Paris - Eighteen months later

14:35 p.m.

"So, can we say you find the one?" Julien, your friend asks you. "Because I think you have."

"Yes, I found the one."

He clapped happily, popping the champagne he had for this special moment.

You were looking for an apartment. Returning to Paris after more months of being out, he helped you look for the perfect place to return to your parisian life.

"I want to make a toast, for the girl I love the most, and the one I know is ready to shine in all the meaning of the word."

"Je t'aime." You smile, giving him a hug. He was a big part of your return to France.

After graduating, you got an opportunity to go to London with the company that you always wanted to work for.

They were expanding their business and chose París to begin. Since you knew the language and had your whole education there, they naturally asked you to take over the company.

"Let's get this paperwork done with and you and I are going on a furniture hunt." You say, grabbing your pen, walking to the entrance while drinking your champagne.

Paris - Kylian therapist office

"Did you bring the letter I asked you to write?"

"Oui, I wrote my heart out."

"Okay, know follow my instructions. Go home, have a shower, have a nice dinner and some wine if you want to extra relax. You told me you have a fireplace so, turn it on and burn the letter."

"Don't you want to read it?"

"No, I'm not, but you can do a last reading before the burning. This will end a cicle, this means you understand that it happened."

"It happened." He nods.

Parc des princes

- 5:30 p.m. -

"Kyky" neymar shouts from the inside of the stadium. "Want to come with us tonight? Bruna and I are doing a special dinner with friends."

"I can go a little after dinner, I have to do something first."

"Do you have a date? Hmm?" Ney poke his stomach, making Kylian laugh and smack his hand away.

"No, just something I have to do tonight. But for that pasta Bruna makes I'm definitely having a cheat day." He laughs, giving Ney a hug while they exit to the field.

The training goes fine. He let his frustration on the field, turning it into magic while he moves the ball with his feet.

"I miss Sergio. I feel like a part of me is gone, " hakimi says, faking crying and making everyone laugh.

"You miss Sergio more than your ex." Neymar shouts from the other side of the field.

"That's it, Junior."

Kylian laughs at the two guys running around, having fun.

Fun is something he ultimately didn't have. The transfer market is happening. After the higher-ups decided to announce to the world that he didn't want to stay till the end of his contract. The whole internet was a mess.

His parents had long talks with him about his career. Telling him what to do. He's young, too young to be this worried about life.

But he knows that without the help of his parents, he wouldn't be where he is right now.

"Ethan, don't sleep. That ball was an easy catch."

"Who's the boss here? Luis or you?"

"Just do what I say." He says, hitting his head in a joking manner. "Do you want to come with me to Ney tonight?"

"Nah, mom wants to go get this couch she's been obsessed with for the last month. The store lady told her that they only had one in existence and she wants it."

"Okay." He says, continuing with the training.

- On the other side of France -

"I want another couch, like one for the bedroom. I saw a beautiful one on pinterest."

"Do you have an idea if there's a store that sells this here?" He asks, looking at the pictures.

"Yes, I actually called like an hour ago, and they told me they will have one in existence. But they're unpacking it, so it's going to be in exhibition in like an hour. Let's go."

Julien shrugs, grabbing his coat and walking behind you to the elevator. "The PSG has a game this Sunday."

"Nice." You say, ignoring his intentions. "I need a charger."

"Don't give me that attitude." He hits you with the newspaper on his hand. "You know why I say this."

"I know, but like I said. Everything has a time, and I need to find my time to do what I need to do."

"Okay, no biggie."

You call an Uber to take you both to the mall. The store is located in this mall that's a little far from your house.

When you arrived you both check stores and pick some things to decorate. Julien knows the vibe you want for this apartment.

"Hey, I'm going to check the couch to see if it's worth the price." You pat his shoulder. He was trying to find the perfect "dinner plates."

You check some emails while you walk there, not paying attention to anything else. Once you arrive, the lady who spoke with you told you the couch was just about to be ready.

Letting you walk to the store, you check other furniture that might be a good competition for this one.

You wanted something that you could relax without replacing the bed, but you also don't want to do work on the bed.

An "L" shaped couch picked your attention. It was in a dark brown color. The couch was beautiful, pretty similar to something that has your mind burning.

"Mademoiselle, we have the couch ready if you want to see it."

"Merci, I want to ask, do this couch come in a cream color?"

While the lady shows the colors of the couch you were eying while you two walk over to the pinterest couch.

You turn your back to the other one. Even when you don't want to accept it. It reminds you of the one you had on the room you shared with him.

"I think I want the other one more."

"We have it in three colors. Shall we go to see the other options? We have them on our second floor."

"Oui." You nod smiling.

While you walk upstairs, there are two people walking in the store, two faces you know more than enough.

"Ethan, can you please put the phone down? I want your help."

"Fine, but after this you're taking me to eat."

Fayza laughs. "It would have been cheaper to come alone, I see."

"Having a daughter was also an option." He laughs, his mother hitting him on the back of the head.

They were scolted to the couch, and Fayza immediately loved it. Picturing it in the perfect space in her house.

While they get checked out, you were trying to decide between a light brown or a cream dirty white color.

"Okay, this one would be."

"Amazing, if you follow me back to the first floor to get everything settle, your address, the payment."

You texted Julien, finding he was waiting for you at this restaurant. Asking him to send you a picture of the menu so you can pick while paying.

You lift your head back to the room, finding a face looking at you curious. The way Ethan eyes light up when he confirms it's you.

- Kylian's House -

The music in the room is calm, a nice jazz to relax his muscles. The outfit is ready to go out. But he has to burn his past to prepare to start a new present.

But he can't let go of the envelope. He's holding it tight, holding it like his life dependent on it. Maybe because what's written on it made his life take a turn.

He sighs, leaving the letter on the couch. He was feeling ready when he spoke with his therapist, but now that he actually has to do it, it is like a burning sensation.

Does this mean he has to burn the feelings he has for you?

After all, it's been more than a year, and you haven't come back to him. He was working hard.

But his year wasn't the best, the club fighting with him, the press fighting with him and even Paris people mad at him.

All he wanted to do was go back to when you would be there for him after the long training hours, after the comments, after the thick and the thin.

But he can't, and he regrets it all the time.

- Neymar's house -

"Vamos Kyky, good thing you came, Bruna was asking about you"

"I bring her something."

"She's going to love it. Let's go inside."

The majority of the team was there. They were celebrating the news of Neymar and Bruna.

He was happy, even though Neymar and him had some shady times, he was friendly after all, for the sake of the team.

"Hakimi, stop with the potatoes, Luis is going to kill you, man."

"Shut it Mbappe, you were eating chocolate last week, and nobody told you shit."

They all laugh. He loves these times because that distracts him. That makes him feel less alone at home. Where no one was waiting, where no one was thinking about him.

The time with his teammates was good. He drank some cocktails. He was going to regret it tomorrow, but he needed them.

"How are the kids?" He asks Achraf, they were walking to their cars.

"They're with their mom. They are so big, I had to buy them everything again because they grew out of the clothes."

"In Spain?"

"Yes, I can't wait to see them, Hiba is bringing them here and they're staying a few days."

He's happy for his friend, after everything for him his kids were the most important thing.

"Dude, I really miss Verrati."

"I can't believe he's gone, he would have chug that bottle down and be fine tomorrow."

"I want to ask you something, Kicks." Achraf sighs. "How are you? I know you have been down, you know I'm here."

Was he okay? Was he bad? Was he sad? Or angry?

He's feeling everything and nothing at the same time. It's like this for time to time. Sometimes he's fine, happy. But then everything in him feels down, feels blue.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. It's just I guess the season."

"You know I'm here. Right?" Achraf repeats.

"I do, and I'm thankful for that."

- The furniture store - Hours prior

"When did you come back?" Ethan throws himself at you, who with open arms receives the hug. "This is such a surprise."

"Hello, roots."

"Mom, look who's here." He says, letting you go.

Fayza turns at the call of her name, her eyes illuminating at the sight of you. She can't deny how much she misses you.

"Ma belle." Same as Ethan, she hugs you tightly.

"Hello to you two, I've missed you so much."

"When did you come back?" Ethan repeats.

"I been here for a few days now." You confess. "I'm going to be working here."

"So you're back for good?"

"Yes, roots. I am." You hug him back again. "I'm so happy to find you, I missed you a lot."

"We missed you too. You look so good. I was so happy when you told me about your job opportunity."

Fayza and you were close. She went to your graduation, gave you a gift for your birthday, and texted you on Christmas day, on the new year. She was like a mother to you.

"I wanted to be stable here with everything before telling you."

"Oh I'm so happy you're here." Ethan jumps a little. "Even Melissa is going to be so happy."

You wanted them back, wanted your little family bond back, but first got to get the boy back.

"I hope to see you guys again, maybe for a coffee or a chocolate."

"Wait, let's go to dinner." Ethan suggests.

Thankfully, Fayza notices the way you don't want to disappoint Ethan. "Maybe later, we have to go home because you haven't done your homework."

"Oh no, roots go home and finish that homework." You joke, pinching him on the ribs. "We can meet some other time for chocolate or a coffee."

Your conversation was interrupted by the worker who handed Fayza her card. The other worker is waiting for you to complete the sale.

"You guys have the same number? If you do I'll text you and we can meet up, okay?"

They both agree with the plan, saying their goodbye, and with another round of hugs, they left the store.

It's undeniable that the Paris Saint German sucks. They have some good moments, and they have some bad. But the bad ones have lately been much more than the good ones.

The last matches were bad, barely even working as a team. It was like if eleven players were there doing their own thing. No union, nothing.

Some people will say "oh but then won the last two," but with the lack of technique they have, it was a big surprise.

The Clermont team was doing so much better. Leaving zero chances for the team. And it was obvious that they were lacking something because it was almost the end and no goals.

Twitter was crazy about the fact that "The Kylian Mbappe" didn't scored against Clermont.

But it's not on him. It's on the team. It's on everyone. Even the new coach. Galtier did so much shit that you can't change in a few days.

You turn the tv off, angry at the result. Stupid game, you thought. Even if it was a repetition, you were mad as if it was live.

Your phone vibrates, picking your attention. You opened the notification, and it was Ethan who sent you a reel about cookies in a new pâtisserie in Paris.

You needed to use your new oven to see if it was working properly. Also, you bought this chocolate that was really good with some butter cookies.

So you invite him to come over, wanting to release some stress and feel some normality again.

The match against Newcastle was bad. The team lost 4 to 1, and the team was struggling.

You notice how Kylian was down. He's not in good shape. Not physically but mentally. Something that makes you worry.

His knee was bothering him again. He had to leave the field because of the pain. Thing that worried you even more.

You wanted to pick up the phone and message him, telling him that whatever is crossing his mind is just there, in his mind.

"Y/n?" Julian says, waving his hand in front of your face. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, sorry. I got lost in my thoughts."

"Notice that." He laughs, he guessed what you were thinking but didn't say it.

"I wonder if he's okay. He looks tired."

"Text him." He shrugs. "I mean, you came back for a reason, do it."

You tap your nail to your phone. You wanted, but what if he has someone else with him already telling him all the things you should be telling him?

"Not yet." You say, getting up and walking to your fridge. "Ice cream?"

- Dressing room - Parc des princes -

"Guys, honestly, we have to keep going. Don't let this bring you down." Luis, tell the team.

The dressing room has this quiet aura. Everybody is thinking of those four goals that nobody stopped, Donaruma feeling bad, the defense guys feeling the same.

And Kylian, even worse. He's thinking of the shots he missed. The moment where he had opportunities and missed them.

His knee hurts. He's tired. He's not focused on the field. He's just not in his prime. That's obvious to everybody.

Especially to the press, printing his mistakes as the first pages, making his missing shots as their conversation on sports programs. Making the Twitter people feel confident about the shit storm they're giving him.

"Kylian, can I have a word with you?"

Luis Enrique and he walked to the corridor. The other team was happy, leaving. Saying their goodbye to the two of them.

"How is your knee?" He asks, he notice the faces he is doing while walking. "You sure you want to play next match? You still have the euros."

"I'm good, I promise sir."

"Promise me something. If you feel like you're overworking your knee, you're telling me. I prefer to sit you for one or two matches instead of you missing the season and euros."

"I promise."

After the talk, Luis advised him to take some recovery therapy. More therapy, he thought.

The drive home was felt long. His chauffeur was quiet, noticing his demeanor. He needs a hot shower and a good night sleep.

He slams the door of his room. Almost ripping this t-shirt, throwing it with all his force to the wall. He wants to scream but won't.

The shower was more than hot. It was burning. But it was all he needed. To feel something again.

He hated to do skin care, thinking all he wanted at night was to sleep, but you taught him to take care of his skin. Creating a night and morning routine.

Even when you're not there, he still did it.

While he stares at his reflection, on the big mirror above his bed, he doesn't know what weights more.

His regret or the ring that sits and collects dust in his nightstand.

That same ring he bought two days before that night.

The same one he was putting on your finger. Now, sure, he will have to throw it away.

Sure, he won't be having nobody next to him to reassure him everything was going to be alright.

Sure, he won't be thinking of raising children with anybody else.

Sure, he won't be thinking about buying a retirement house with a big backyard where to watch his grandkids playing.

Sure, there won't be anybody after you.

Unsure about you being his future.

"I need the last reports of the head office so I can start to organize everything and have it ready for the opening."

You were working on a meeting, having to multi-task and focus your attention between the meeting and what your co-workers were saying with the football game that's happening.

The Rennes game was better. They were winning. This was the last game before the Euros.

You wanted to see Kylian with the team of Les Bleus. They somehow cheer him up. They were like an energy drink for him.

Olivier, Antoine, even the coach. They were all like a family, and they were there for each other, no matter what.

Fayza invited you to the match, she knew you wanted to talk to him but didn't knew how. Ethan and her decided to keep your return a secret, letting you announced it on your own.

She sent you a jersey with his number on it. You try it on, smiling at the reflection. He loved seeing you in jerseys with his number on it.

And you loved to display your support for your boyfriend. Showing up at matches with his number on full display, showing the people you were his. And he was for sure yours.

You opennyour phone, going to instagram to see his page, you feel like a stalker. But it was the only thing you dare to do right now.

You turn the tv on, wanting to see something while working. And the first thing that pop up is a football news channel. They have Kylian picture on display.

"Kylian Mbappe leaves training to go to Bondy. The player suffered a family lost and asked his trainer Deschamps for permission to go back to his hometown to say his goodbyes."

You want to text Ethan, but you don't want to disrupt them. You wanted to know what was happening.

So you have two options. Achraf or Tchaga. Both will eventually tell Kylian you reach and asked about him. Both were only one call away.

You go for the second option. Having a little more trust in this one. You search for his number on your contacts.

The phone rings until you hit the voice-mail. You block your phone again, questioning if you had to try again or maybe just wait and speak with Fayza or Ethan later.

You take the jersey off, changing back into your pajamas, ready to be comfy again.

The vibration of your phone alert you, thinking it was from work you walk slowly to the device. But once you're close, you notice the name in the screen "Tchaga"

"Hello"

"Hey, long time no see, how are you?"

You smile at the greetings. "I'm good, how are you, scissors?"

"Been better, have a cold. But you didn't call me to know that. Tell me, how can I help you?"

"I heard the news about Ky, and I don't want to bother him or his family. But I want to know if I can help."

"I'm actually planning on going to Bondy, would you like to come with me?"

You wanted to scream a yes. But you have to be rational and think if this is something that he would want.

"I don't want to be a bother."

"You will never be a bother, not to him or his family. Get ready and pack something to change just in case."

"What? Wait, what if he doesn't want me there?"

"Bébé, he's been in a shit whole without you, so get your pretty as to the closet, change into something, and send me your location. I'll be there in an hour." He says, hanging up the call.

You do as you were told. Sending him your location and the parking code.

Running to the bathroom to have a quick shower and get ready.

After that, you took a black legging, a white blouse with a little London eye on the side. You white sneakers. You add some blush and mascara, just to add something to your face.

You pack the basics and the clothes Tchaga told you to pack. Just to notice you were done in time. Tchaga texted you that he was in the basement waiting for you.

- Bondy - Later that day

Kylian was exhausted. He feels sad and tired. He feels like crying. But won't.

The room feels cold, barely any air. Of maybe it's just him having difficulty breathing. Maybe it's the last few, maybe it's the lost shot, maybe it's the team.

"Kyky"

Ethan was worried about him. He notices everything. How his brother has such prominent bags under his eyes and is losing a little weight.

How he chooses to sleep instead of doing the things he loves. How the whole "mbappe saga" destroyed a little his confidence.

"Want to tell me what's going on?"

Kylian scoffs, he can't believe that his little brother is the one worried and not the other way around.

"I'm supposed to be asking you that, Ethan."

"Well, if I'm worried about you, I'm going to ask and help.It's not like it's a crime being down."

"I just want this bad time to end."

"It will, don't worry, Ky, you're so strong."

He smiles, patting his brother on the shoulder. Ethan offers him a cookie. Knowing he likes them.

"Tchaga told me he was coming. He's probably about to be here." He sighs, not sure what else to do. "Let's play some fifa, I have the app on my phone."

He smiles, heartwarming with how much Ethan is doing to make him feel better. "If I win, you do the dishes."

"Deal."

While they got some distraction, you and Tchaga were stuck in traffic. You feel anxious. Maybe it was the drink you got at Starbucks, maybe the fact that after almost two years you and the man you love were reuniting.

"You need to stop with your leg, bébé." Tchaga says, putting his hand on your knee to stop it from moving. "The car is moving with you, and it's making me nauseous."

"Sorry, I'm just nervous."

"Okay, I want to know, let's get deep." He laughs, turning the car off and turning to you. "So you left after graduation, not blaming you tho, I would have done the same."

You smile at his rambling. You missed this so much. Maybe not the topic but the talk.

"The thing here is, you're back, but are you back for him? I know you came back to work. You just told me that."

"Get to the point." You laugh.

"My point is, don't rush me. We're not moving." He says sassy. "Are you taking him back? Are you sure you want to go back and take up every challenge you guys may face?"

You don't have to think your answer. You knew what you wanted way before stepping back into French territory.

"I wouldn't have come back if I wasn't sure that I wanted that."

-Bondy - 9:30 p.m. -

"Mom, I'm going back to the house, Tchaga is coming and Ethan is tired. Do you need anything else?"

"No, go and have a good sleep, baby."

He hugs his mom, kissing her cheek and leaving back to her house. Ethan and him walked over there. The night was calm.

"You know what I want?" Ethan asks.

"Yeah?"

"I want some chocolate with butter cookies." He says, caressing his tummy.

He nods, agreeing with how much a good chocolate and some good butter cookies will heal the day.

"Y/n used to make some amazing cookies. Never knew how to make them, but we can try doing them some other day."

Ethan was talking about other things, how he can't wait to see on the match against Netherlands.

When they got closer, he noticed the car of his friend. Tchaga went out, walking up to him and hugging him.

"Hey, Ethan, why don't you help me with something that's on the co-pilot side." He says with a smirk.

The teenager nods, not thinking about anything else walks to the door. He opens it, seeing you. He wanted to scream, but you shush him putting your finger over your lips.

"Hey, get inside, I will take care of this."

Both men nod to his words, walking inside while they talk, Tchaga was telling him about the crazy traffic and how a little trip turned into almost half a day one.

"What are you doing here?" He whispers while Tchaga walks into the house with his brother. "No that you aren't welcome but you surprise me."

"I wanted to make sure you guys are okay."

"Okay, sweet." He laughs, opening the door for you to get out. "I am, but I'm not if he is."

"I've been worried about him, his whole attitude, he not even being on the press conferences of les bleus."

"Yeah, my parents and I are worried. He won't open up to us." He sighs, tired of seeing his brother like this. "I just want him to go back to the happy Kylian."

"Hey, do you think you can give me some time alone with him? I want to talk."

"God, yes, let's go." He slams the door, grabbing your arm and practically running inside. "Stay here, I'm going to ask Tchaga to come see something so we can leave."

You nod, closing the door. He dissappear into the corridor. You open your bag to spray some mint scent into your mouth, take a small mirror to check that you look decent.

You hear two voices coming down. Tchaga and Ethan walked quickly to where you are. Excited about you and Kylian talking again.

"Okay, he's in the kitchen, go." Tchaga push you a little.

They both left the house. You stood there for a little while. Feeling the senses come back to you. You were about to meet up with him.

You walk slowly to the kitchen, hearing some music playing. You can't get cold feet right now. Not after spending hours in the car just to come see him.

His back is facing you. You run his whole figure with your eyes, smiling at the fact that you're matching without planning it.

You nock on the wood door that's at the entrance. He turns without looking, typing something on his phone.

"Hey E, I found a good recipe for those cookies."

"You can't bake even if your life depends on it." You laugh lightly.

He has to blink several times, scared this would be a fever dream and not you in front of him. With your rosey cheeks, you nice smile and the same shinning eyes he loves.

"I can write the recipe for you. That way, it's similar." You speak again. "But if you don't know how to use your oven the I don't think it will work."

He's still speechless, thing that worried you. He does the same thing you just did to him. Scan your whole figure.

"How?"

"I been on Paris for some time now." You confess, "I wanted to call you, I just felt so scared you weren't going to answer."

"Why wouldn't I?"

You shrug, not really feeling like explaining your insecurities to him. "Just, my mind playing games."

He wants to hug you, missing the feeling and warmth only you can give him. He wants to open his arms around you.

Fuck it, he thought.

Opening his arms while walking to you. You drop your bag to the floor, opening your arms to him.

The hug was like a band-aid. It was what your hearts needed. Like when you put something back together and it just fits so good you can't even see the damage.

"I miss you so much." He hides his face into your neck. Kissing it. "Please don't go, I can't take being away from you again."

You kissed his shoulder, feeling the moment you dreamed about it, the whole thing was better than your dreams.

"Can you look at me?"

He broke the hug, hands on your waist so you couldn't run. It's not like you're planning on doing it.

"If we're doing this again, I need you to really fucking trust me." You laugh, maybe out of nerves. "Babe, I would never be with you for your money. I am with you for your heart, for your soul, you're my fucking soul mate and I can't let you go. But if you fucking pull some shit like that I will make sure you are dead."

"I swear on everything I have, I swear on the kids we don't even have yet, that I won't pull nothing like that. Have all my money, have all my properties, what's mine is yours. I was stupid enough not to back you up, and that was the worst thing I ever did."

You shut him up with a kiss. The way his lips are just like you remember, as soft as before, as warm as before.

His hands on your back, pulling you as close as he can. While your hands are on his face. Not wanting to break the kiss.

When the air becomes a necessity, you both can't stop looking at your eyes. The eyes never lie. They tell our secrets. And if anybody sees the way your eyes look at each other, they will see heart shapes on them.

You hear someone clearing their throat. Making you both turn. "Well, hello, I didn't mean to interrupt. But I want to drop this off on the counter."

He let go of his hold, helping his mother with the box she had in her hands. "Oi, that smile was lost until today." She jokes. Making you blush. "Well, I'm going to sleep. Y/n, belle. This is your house. Make yourself conformable."

You nod, wishing her a good night. Once she's out of the kitchen view, you return to the arms of your love.

"By the way, please go to sleep, we have to get Kylian to training tomorrow."

Tou both laugh at her words. Not promising anything. Not after that long.

The game was good, Kylian just scored two goals. He was not only the captain but was the reason they won the game.

The crowd was crazy about it. people were sure he wasn't going scored the two goals that were sending them to the victory.

But oh boy, how wrong they were.

You walk with his mom and Ethan to the outside of the stadium. You were happy for him.

"You know, when he used to say you were his lucky charm, I was like, iugh disgusting. But I think you really are a lucky charm."

You laugh, hitting his arms. "I can go to your matches, maybe I can give you some of my luck."

"No need." Melissa interrupts, smirking. "He has his own lucky charm. Just a little shy to admit it."

"Oh shush." Ethan says, blushing like crazy.

Once you're on the basement of the stadium, where the private parking lot is. You all got into Kylians car.

"Hey, so you do like dudes with a car but without a license." E jokes, remembering the message you sent him.

"Careful kid," you warn jokingly. "You will be walking home if you keep with those unfunny jokes."

The whole trip was Ethan and Melossa fighting about something they saw on tik tok, making jokes about it and Fayza and you being confused.

When the time for Ky comes back home hits, Fayza, Ethan, and Melissa left. Letting him enjoy his night.

"Hey, handsome." You welcome him with a hug. "You did amazing, it was one of the best games you had this season."

"Another way of you telling me my club sucks."

"Shhh, just take the good part." You shush him with a kiss.

"Are we alone?"

You nod, kissing him again. You never had enough when you're with him. It was like a kiss with a candy. You love it and refuse to give in.

He picks you up, making his way upstairs. Almost falling, thing that made you laugh. It was like the beginning. And you loved new beginnings.

- Five months later -

"Ready?" You ask, putting on your seat belt.

He nods, he was feeling anxious about this decision, but you made him understand that it was a necessity.

During the little drive, he told you about some plans Luis has with the team as they were going to the last games of the Ligue 1.

"I never asked you this, but do you ever get free Uber eats?" You ask, confused. He plays for the Uber eats Ligue.

"Why would I get free Uber eats?"

"Uber eats Ligue 1"

"Bébé, just no."

You laugh at his expression, but you had to ask. It was something that had your curiosity.

You park outside the house, Kylian quickly exit the car and run to your side. He was a passenger princess, but he was a gentleman.

"Thanks, Mister Mbappe." You kiss his cheek, taking his hands on yours.

"You're welcome, Miss fiancé."

You knock on the door. You can't help but deep the hold on his hands. It was something that was necessary, you repeat in your head.

The door is open by a woman. She happily lets you inside, offering you something to drink.

"We're okay, thank you."

"He's in the garden. He's reading."

He leads the way to the garden, opening the door and letting you step outside first. The Parisienne air is cold. Good think there's some sun after the cold cloudy winter.

"Père."

Wilfrid smiles, leaving his book on the little table. He was excited about meeting you. He wanted as much as everybody a new beginning.

"Hey, you need to put on a jacket, is cold outside." He warns his son, hugging him. "Hey, Y/n."

"Hi, sir."

"Can I give you a hug?" He asks, hopeful that you will allow him to. "Aftet all, you will be my daughter in law."

You hug him, you left all the pain and resentment in the past, that was hurting you even more.

"Sit, please."

You loved the way his garden looks, wanting to stole some ideas for the new place. "I love the roses."

"They are looking good today. The sun is helping them to look good." He cuts one that's close to the table. Giving it to you. "Tell me. You guys came for a reason."

Kylian looks at you. He wanted you to be the one to talk. He nods his head once you look at him. A sign of support.

"I want to leave all in the past. We want to start a clean new beginning. And we want you on it. You're his father, and we're going to be family. So I. Well, we want you to be there for us."

"I want that, I know I have a long way to you, but please, now that my heart is full with good intentions."

"We know, père." Kylian says. "That's why we wanted to do this."

You feel out of breath. But at the same time, lighter, like taking something off your shoulders. Your life was taking a good turn.

You chatted with his father for a while, sharing some wedding details. Your plan was to have a wedding once the season finishes. So you can have a honeymoon and some free time with him.

You grab the hand of your fiance, the ring he gave you shining. You knew that even if it was hard, you needed to leave the past in the past. Just lean about it.

🪷🪷🪷

🏷: @slayweirdosaway @voguebikini @ironmaiden1313 @magicalfundragon @nightlockcornucopia @christianpulisic10 @bellinghambby22 @noodle81937 @moonlightholland22 @germanapples @paniwiaderko @megannandrewss @unstablefemme @suzysface @nightlockcornucopia @ama1a2 @topguncultleader @lunamelona

[sorceresski]

Tipsy - Kylian Mbappé

Summary: y/n is drunk and gets a little naughty/bratty with Kylian.

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x reader

Tags/warnings: suggestive, none really

I’ve had this is in the drafts for months now. Read more of my work here

You were more giggly and jumpy than usual. He’d lost track of how many glasses you’d had, but you were definitely drunk now. You and alcohol do not go well together, which is why you stayed away. For the most part anyway.

Now, Kylian watched you try to talk Ousmane into doing shots with you, it was time to step in.

“You’re having a lot of fun,” he said coming up behind you.

You were a happy drunk. “Kylian!” You threw your arms around his shoulders, his arms falling to your waist. “Join us!”

Kylian gave the bartender a look as he was about to refill your glasses and he shuffled to other side of the bar. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Booo.” You pulled away from him and leaned in to whisper to Ousmane, “He’s so boring isn’t he?”

“Y/n I have to be at work tomorrow, so do you. And so does he,” he looked to Ousmane for help.

“He might be boring but he has a point,” Ousmane chimed in.

You crossed your arms with a pout, “Fine.”

Kylian held his hand out, “Give me your keys, I’ll drive.”

“Don’t crash my car,” you said as you slapped the car keys into his outstretched hand, stumbling past him.

Holding his tongue about being the better driver, Kylian bid a bemused Dembele goodbye and hurried to catch up.

“Next time, we’re bringing your car, I don’t trust you around mine,” you slurred as the cold Paris air hit you, raising goosebumps on your arms.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright passenger princess, let’s get you home.” He steered you to your car, security helping keep his fans away. Once in the car, Kylian shrugged off his jacket, you must be freezing in that slip dress, he thought. “Here,” he said offering his jacket.

“I’m fine, I’m mad at you,” you muttered to the window, refusing to look at him. The city was a blur and you blinked as the occasional headlamp flashed into your eyes. Paris was very much awake even at this late hour.

You shut your eyes and opened them to Kylian rousing you to go up to his apartment, “Allez.” You sagged into him, enveloped in his scent, as warm arms held you up. You both stumbled into the apartment, Kylian fumbling with his shoes and then yours in the dark.

You fell into a heap on the bed. “Aht aht, you need to take off your clothes.” You looked up at him, a mischievous thought swirling in your head.

“Sure, if you insist.” You stood up, coming between Kylian and the bed. He put his hands in his pockets and held his breath. You grabbed the hem of the dress you wore and pulled it above your head. Your bra was next, joining the discarded dress at your feet. You watched him watch you, tingles travelling down your spine at his appraisal of your body, the buzz and feeling of freedom that came with the alcohol only serving to heighten your arousal.

You took a confident step towards him. “Y/n,” he warned, as you placed a hand on his abdomen. “You should go to bed.” A suggestion? A command? You didn’t care. Frankly, you liked how he got when you were being naughty and you hoped he would go there.

So you kissed him instead. Slow, tender. His hands flew to your waist despite his reluctance, pulling you impossibly closer, your breasts flush against his chest. When he pulled away, your vision was blurry. “Join me,” you said, slipping under the covers.

“One moment,” Kylian said and ducked into the closet to change, taking his time to find a pair of shorts to wear, hoping you would be drowsy when he returned. He had no intention of making love to you while you were intoxicated and he was sober. Sure enough, when he returned you were blinking away sleep.

He joined you under the covers, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you closer. After a beat, you spoke. “Why aren’t you kissing me?”

“Because,” he placed a hand on your chin and raised your head up to meet his eyes, “you are drunk and probably won’t remember most of this in the morning and when I fuck you, I want you to remember it all. Goodnight, y/n.”

[darlingmbappe]

The Loneliest | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: Your fiancé missing your birthday is the icing on the cake to a horrible couple of months. Now, you’re left to pick up your broken pieces, ending the chapter in your life that includes Kylian Mbappé.

Warnings: Complete angst all the way through, Kylian being a bad fiancé, fighting, breaking an engagement, lots of crying, cussing, this one’s kind of long so beware. Spoiler: no happy ending. Let me know if I missed anything. — English is not my first language —

Mornings used to be your favorite.

You’d wake up way too early to the sound of Kylian’s alarm for your liking, but it didn’t even matter. The hour or so you got to spend with your fiancé before he left were sacred, it was special. They were filled with easy conversation, tired hugs and sleepy kisses on the shoulder, the occasional quickie, or at least a cheeky squeeze of your ass. It felt like very moment spent together was precious. You felt loved by Kylian so much it made your stomach turn with butterflies just thinking about him.

Now, it felt like those domestic moments were a distant memory. Sure, all couples gradually get less and less lovey-dovey the longer they’re together, but the change was drastic. It was like you barley knew him anymore.

You’ve attempted to start conversations with Kylian about this. Multiple times, in fact. Immediately, he’d get defensive, ending in arguments that kept getting worse and worse. It’s difficult to have to tip toe around your feelings in order to avoid a fight. He stopped making you feel special.

This morning, you woke up knowing it will be a hard day; all alone in your shared king sized bed.

Today is your birthday, and you don’t think Kylian knows this. After many weeks of deep reflection and thought, you know that today might be the last day of your three and a half-year long relationship with Kylian Mbappé — a man who stole your heart and still has it. Once treasured, now barely beating. The diamond sitting on your left ring finger had started feeling like a foreign object, like something your body wanted to reject. It’s lost it’s comfort, now you seemed to lug around old memories you clung onto for dear life.

Kylian didn’t come home last night, though you saw on his private Snapchat story that he was safe, sound, and plastered out of his mind at some club with friends you didn’t even know. He couldn’t find it in him to text you back after 9 o’clock, when that morning he said he would be home no later than 8:30. He found a simple ‘going out, don’t wait up for me’ to be sufficient communication for the night.

You called Kylian, instead it went straight to voicemail. Your texts to him weren’t going through, either. He didn’t have training this morning because the coaches had a conference in London, so you knew he had to be home soon.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way to the kitchen for a bowl of bland cereal and coffee for one.

“Happy birthday to me.” You mumbled, looking down at your sad birthday breakfast. Compared to the last few years where Kylian prepared you a delicious meal, hired a chef, or took you out to the fanciest café in Paris — this meal actually made you lose your appetite.

Across town, Kylian was waking up with a pounding sensation in his head and no recollection of the night before.

“What happened last night?” Kylian grumbled as he woke up to the bright sunlight streaming in from the open shutters. His neck had a kink in it from passing out on his friend Paolo’s Airbnb couch in the early hours of the morning, his voice sounded like he’d swallowed gravel. “Fuck.” He covered his face from the blinding rays and felt around for his phone.

He hasn’t gotten drunk that heavily in so long, but when two of his old friends came to Paris for a few weeks, he couldn’t resist giving into their pleads when they’d asked him to tag along for a fun night on the town.

“Bro, you were so drunk last night.” He heard his other friend Bernardo chuckle, his voice almost gone as well from the festivities of the previous night. Kylian sat up, seeing both men looking half dead and clinging onto coffee mugs like a child would cling onto its mothers leg.

The guys chuckled in the kitchen. He smelled eggs cooking but they just made him nauseous. “What time is it? Where’s my phone?”

“Oh…” Paolo snickered and pointed at the bowl full of rice in the center of his kitchen island. “Yeah, man… I don’t know if the rice did much for it. It’s fucked.”

Kylian shot up toward his cell, not even remembering putting it in the rice last night. He carefully picked it up, the entire screen was shattered.

“Putain…” He attempted to hold down the power button just in case, glancing over to the microwave to see the time. 12:36pm. “Merde!”

He had an important meeting with his PR team about potential sponsorships for next years season at 2 o’clock, and if he showed up sweating whiskey with an obvious hangover, the brand reps might think twice before giving him any deals.

He bid his old friends goodbye but not before promising to go out again soon. A short taxi ride later, he was able to make it back home just a little after 1 o’clock.

Kylian bursts through the front door, booking it toward the shower in your ensuite bathroom, running right past you on the bed without a glance or even a hello.

You’d been trying to decide all day if you were pissed at him or just super sad, but seeing him ignore you that way made you realize that it didn’t matter. He stopped making you happy, making you both pissed and sad — a dangerous combination.

You get up and follow him in there as he hopped around trying to take his skinny jeans off.

“I’m gonna be late.” He panted, sliding inside the shower.

You assumed if he knew he would’ve said something… happy birthday… I love you… I’m sorry…

Curious and resentful, you stand close to the shower door so he could hear you. “Where are you going? I thought we…” You blink tears back, sighing and trying to get control of your wavering voice, “… I thought we could do something tonight.”

This wasn’t even the plan, but you were trying to find anyway for him to redeem himself.

“No, (Y/N). I can’t today, okay?” He snapped. “I’m in a rush. Can you please just pick out a nice outfit for me, quickly.”

You shake your head in disbelief, wiping a stray tear that rolled down your face, sniffling once. Kylian hears this and pokes his head out. “Hey,” his barely softer, “Look, sorry but I’m in a huge rush. It’s been a shit morning.”

“Me too.” You mumble, disappointment laced in your words but Kylian didn’t seem to catch onto it.

“Also, my phone shattered at some point last night, so can you call Thérèse and have her drop me off a new one at the training center?”

You huffed, getting control of your emotions that were simmering into anger. One more chance, you thought as you were about to walk out of the bathroom, you turn. “Do you want to do something when you get home? Maybe even just dinner here, a movie?”

“Maybe.” He said back, turning off the shower. All you could do is roll your eyes and bite your tongue. You were trying to give him every opportunity to come back from this.

You didn’t want to end it, but you promised yourself that if he fucks up today, that was it. You can’t keep hoping he’ll become the person he was before. He won’t listen when you talk anymore or even meet you in the middle. You have too much respect for yourself to settle for someone who can’t appreciate you.

You dry laughed. “Maybe.” You mocked, another angry tear rolling down your face, storming back into the bedroom and getting under the covers, arms crossed.

You wanted to sob, but choked it down when Kylian stormed out of the bathroom, wet and holding his towel up around his waist. “Why are you so moody?” He didn’t even look at you, just shook his head and threw his hand down, exasperated when he realized you weren’t putting an outfit together for him. “I just asked you to help me out.” He tusks. “Are you just going to lay around all day, then?”

You knew this tone. The one where something else was bothering him except he expressed it by nitpicking at anything in front of him. Being with him for so long, you knew how to gently pry out the real reason why he was snappy. Right now, there was no way were you even attempting to help him out in any way.

“Looks like it, huh?” You gritted through your teeth. You could practically feel the eye roll he gave you even though neither of you would look at each other.

He muttered something you couldn’t hear as he walked into the closet, hurriedly throwing on some outfit. “I didn’t feel like fighting today, (Y/N).” He growled and threw on a white hat. “Today has been miserable so far.”

“Miserable for you?” You gaped, face getting angrily red.

“Oh, don’t start.” He spat, grabbing his keys and walking out of the room.

You jumped up and stomped out of the room behind him, seeing him almost at the bottom of the stairs. “Kylian.”

He groaned, continuing to run down the steps. “I don’t have time for a fucking fight right now!”

“Kylian!” You yelled from the railing just as he grabbed the door handle. With an exasperated turn around, he locked eyes with your teary ones. “When you get home… we need to talk.” You didn’t try and hide your sadness this time, knowing how the talk was going to end. The sentence squeaked out, like your forced it.

He paused, taking his hand off the door handle. “Fine.” He said this differently upon seeing your broken demeanor, shuffling in place. Kylian checked his watch, looking back up at you. You stared back, watching him hesitantly leave your shared home.

Kylian knew he’d been fucking up with you lately. Coming home late, forgetting to call or text back, paying less and less attention to you as the season progressed. He knew he was getting too comfortable and at some point stopped putting in any effort. The worst was that he’d been taking his frustrations out on you, shutting you out. He watched as you tried to smile through his snarky and quick comments, feeling bad immediately but he just didn’t know how to deal with that kind of guilty emotion.

Your engagement has been a long one. Nine months in and you guys hadn’t even set a date yet. Time kept slipping through the glass, he wondered when the last time you’d even brought up the wedding was — wondering when the last time he even thought about it directly after.

The whole way to work he watched out the window, lost in thought about how he needs to be better. So much so that his driver had to tell him that they’d arrived. He was actually early. With a big fake smile on his face, he did his best to set it all aside, turning on work-mode.

Meanwhile, you had a really nice cry. The kind where you just let it all out because you knew no one was around to hear or pity you. Once you pulled yourself together, you gathered your suitcases from the attic.

It was obvious you couldn’t take everything that was yours. You’d bought so many things for this place, for your shared home… so you focused on the things you were for sure taking with you. All your clothes, makeup, sentimental items, and the fruit bowl you found in a market in Spain were secured inside your bags. You stopped and cried so many times… over a pair of shoes that he bought for you or a picture that brought back sweet memories… all these momentos felt wasted.

Yesterday, you were certain that he would remember what today was. So certain that you convinced yourself you didn’t need to get a hotel. You wished you did, because doing it today felt so final, so depressing. And, upon looking at your empty side of the closet, vanity, side table, bathroom shelf… you had to pull yourself together and be strong. Remind yourself why you’ve resorted to this.

Back at the training grounds, Kylian snapped his last photo-op with the CEO of some athletic wear company, absolutely drained from having to pretend for hours. He had sent his assistant off for a new phone when he saw her, knowing you didn’t text her about him needing one.

He trudged over to Hakimi now that all of that was over, sitting down with a long huff, placing his head in his hands. He hadn’t talked to him all day, being occupied with offers and whatnot.

“Man, I’ve been texting you all day.” He patted his back once, turning to face him.

Kylian looked up at his friend, shaking his head. “It broke last night. Thérèse is out getting me a new one now.”

Hakimi sensed there was something bothering Kylian, but knew not to approach him too strongly. He nodded at his answer. “So, uh… I bet (Y/N)’s pissed, right?”

Kylian blew a raspberry. “Oh, yeah… so pissed…” He nodded with the most exhausted look on his face. “Wait, how’d you know that?”

“Well, I mean, Hiba would be pissed too.” Kylian raised an eyebrow, still confused on how he knew about your fight. “You know, if I had to work on her birthday like this.” He laughed at the thought. “I’d have a lot of groveling to do. Or, did you guys plan something on a different day?”

Kylian gazed up at Hakimi, eyes widening with the vague memory of todays date. “Wait.” He gulped, hands hovering over his head. “Is today the…” he flipped the calendar in his mind, praying that Achraf was mistaken about that. “Ah… merde! Putain! Shit!” Kylian smacked the table and bounced up out of the chair, heart beating a million miles a minute.

Hakimi stood too, watching Kylian pace with his hands cradling his head. “No… Kylian, you didn’t…”

He nods, panic settling in hardcore. “I yelled at her today. I asked her why she was being moody. I didn’t come home last night— ah baise moi, mec. je suis un putain d'idiot!” He cursed himself. Ah fuck me, man. I’m a goddamn idiot!

Thérèse speed walked over to the man in crisis, holding a brand new phone. “All your data’s transferred and everything!” She cheered. Kylian probably didn’t even thank her, going directly to his messages with you to text you that he’s so sorry and coming home right now. When he clicked on your icon, he saw all of the messages you sent him last night

You: Ky will u please come home — 9:25 pm

You: I know ur friends are in town and all but I seriously need u with me tonight — 10:48 pm

You: hello?? — 11:51 pm

You: are u okay? Do u need a ride? — 1:35 am

You: I’m getting worried. please just reply. I need to know ur okay Kylian — 1:40 am

You: nice Snapchat story. Good to know ur fucking fine. — 2:46 am

He ran a hand over his face, beginning to sweat with guilt. His eyes lowered on the screen, the small grey message by the keyboard truly making his stomach knot up even more.

(Y/N) stopped sharing their location with you.

His heart fell in his chest, churning… he felt like he was going to puke. Suddenly all of the conversations you tried to start with him about his behavior over the last six months came flooding back. The same conversations he moaned and groaned though, always deflecting until it turned into a fight. God, how badly he had been treating you… like you were a menace in his life — when really, without you, he wouldn’t be able to go on the same.

He began trying to call you and gathered his things, but his calls simply rang until it went to voicemail. “I-I have to go.” He stammered, almost tripping over his feet. Hakimi watched, shocked at the state of his best friend, knowing how he could get sometimes.

Kylian jumped in the town car as fast as his world-renowned legs could get him there, giving the driver instructions to get him home, and quick. The whole way he cussed at slow drivers, construction workers, red lights. He checked his new phone for the time; 10:37 pm and still fifteen minutes away from home.

God, please let her still be home.

He won’t know what to do with himself if you just left.

‘We need to talk’ rung over and over again in his head like a jinx. The way your voice cracked, the tears he saw you hold back. She’s so strong, he thought.

I raised my voice at her. I forgot her birthday and then treated her like she was the problem.

He pinched his leg to distract himself from crying. He has to be level headed, calm, logical, loving, and very apologetic— everything he hasn’t been for the last months. He knows he doesn’t deserve you, but can’t imagine what his life, his future will look like if he lets you slip through his fingers.

No girl has ever made him feel like this. Everything he looked for in a woman you embodied tenfold and he fucked it up. He has to fix this.

Kylian didn’t even let the car come to a full stop when he arrived, tripping over his own feet, realizing he left his coat in the back seat but really not caring at all. He just has to know you’re there. He looked toward the driveway, seeing your car still parked in its usual spot.

Thank the lord.

Fumbling with the keys, his shaking hands clicked the door open, seeing only the living room lamp on.

“Bébé?” He called. He saw your figure looking at him from the couch. “Oh, (Y/N)…” he breathed, walking over to get closer. You stoop up, meeting him halfway. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He heaved, breathless from his pounding heart.

The dull yellow light illuminating the side of your face showed him how puffy and red your eyes were, how downturned your usual smile was. He saw what he’d done to you, all the months you’ve had to walk on eggshells, the conversations that he’s turned on you, how he forgot your special day.

You still didnt say anything, keeping your arms crossed, looking him in the eye — the while begging yourself internally not to cave. His sweet eyes knew how to reel you in. You weren’t going to cave. You couldn’t.

“I forgot your birthday…” He whispered sadly, guilt drenched his tone, sending a cold depressing shiver down your spine.

Your eyes brimmed with tears again, but you bit your cheek and shook them away, having to be strong for yourself. “So, you finally remembered.” You sniffled.

“I’m so sorry, bèbè. Time just…” he stopped himself from making anymore excuses, “I’m just a fucking idiot. And I’m going to make it up to you. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” He stammered, voice shaking from nerves.

“But, it’s not just about the birthday, Kylian. It’s been… it’s..–”

“–I know, bébé. I’ve been horrible to you. Truly horrible. You never deserved any of that.” He cautiously lifted his hand to yours, grabbing your fingers. All the words he was going to say suddenly didn’t feel good enough. No I’m sorry is going to feel sufficient.

You looked at your tangled hands, he played with your fingers anxiously, trying to catch your gaze, but it now stayed glued to the floor.

You took a deep breath and looked up at him with teary eyes — that of a wounded puppy. It broke him. “We need to talk.” Your words were laced in false strength, false confidence.

You didn’t know what the hell you were going to do once you leave him. Flying blind isn’t something you did very often, but you knew it’s what had to be done.

“Yes.” He nodded eagerly, trying to guide your hand toward the couch to sit. “Let’s talk. We can talk this all out, right?”

His hopeful tone made your heart break even more. The guiltiness that radiated off of him made it harder to do what you had to… his face fell when you let your hand slip back into your folded arms, turning away from him, sniffling.

“Kylian, I can’t… I can’t sit down with you and hold your hand and let you apologize to me. It’s not how this is gonna go.” Wiping your cheeks roughly, you turned to see his dropped face. “This talk… it’s going to be really hard. For both of us.”

He approached you, putting his hands on your forearms. “You’re scaring me, bèbè.”

Your lip quivered, not knowing how to tell him. You couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Kylian. I love you.”

“I love you too. I love you so much, (Y/N). I know we can work through this. I know it.” He pleaded, moving his face around to try and get you to look at him.

“No, Kylian. I love you, but…” You finally looked up, noticing he’d started crying as well. Ouch. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

He didn’t know what he was expecting. Sure, he was scared and sorry about what he did but the possibility of breaking up seemed impossible. Not like he was immune to repercussions, but you two just made sense. He loves you impossibly too much, but he’s forgotten to show you.

Kylian stood in shock, he felt his heartbeat in his teeth, his throat dry. “Don’t say that.” He whimpered. “Please, don’t say that.”

His hands traveled up to hold your face and he bent down to your level, needing you to look at him, to see how regretful he was, how much harder he will work at this. He touched his forehead to yours, wrestling with the temptation of falling down from anguish.

You shook your head between his palms, letting the tears fall freely, a small sob escaping. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, attempting to hold you closer, squeaking out the smallest words; “Bèbè.” “No, no.” “Please.” “I’m so sorry.”

You grabbed his wrists, using all your strength to pull them from your face. Immediately, you turned around and grabbed a duffel bag he hadn’t noticed was sitting on the armchair. Your feet took you toward the exit.

“No.” His voice broken, his own face scrunched up and soaked with tears. “No, where are you going?”

It took everything in you not to comfort him, run into his arms, tell him it will be okay.

You pushed your instincts down and turning and shrugged instead, now feet away from the man you love, closing in on the front door. “I’m…” You felt a choking sob threatening to spill out of your mouth and had to look away, silently crying out with your hand covering you mouth. With a deep breath, you continued. “I’m leaving.”

“Well, when will you be back?” In just a few strides, he was back in front of you. He couldn’t help but hold your face again, wiping more tears with a gentle but pleading touch.

You gripped his wrists again, only this time, you weren’t strong enough to pull them away, instead feeling his warm skin one more time.

With a small shake of the head, you responded. “I’m not coming back, Kylian.”

“But… but this is your home. It’s our home.”

“I’m sorry, Kylian.” You finally ripped his hands from your face once more and adjusted the heavy strap on your shoulder. Turning around, your feet drag you to the front door. You reach into your back pocket and take out the house key that’s not longer attatched to your usual tassel keychain and set it down on the table.

He stood there and watched, now feeling helpless in this heart wrenching situation. It doesn’t seem like this is real, he has to be having a nightmare, just watching you leave his life and there’s nothing he can do about it — but it doesn’t stop him from trying, begging. “Amour, no. I can fix this, please just give me a chance to make this right.” He was desperate, once again approaching you.

Kylian sniffled, watching your every reaction, hoping for a glint of anything that would allow him to make it up to you. You looked down at your hands, then your left ring finger… everything in your body was holding you back from taking it off, but you mustered up every ounce of self control.

Kylian looked away as you slid the engagement ring off, hearing the light clink of it being set next to the keys. With his hands at his sides, back slouching, he looked back at your face, nodding in defeat.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated in a squeaky whisper.

“Me too.” He nods, looking down at your empty hand. He couldn’t but reach out, trapping your fingers delicately with his fingers, stepping closer.

His arm snakes around your waist, holding you, shaking with his suppressed cries. You allowed yourself to hug him back, to close the chapter, to feel his warm embrace again before you never would again.

The hug lasted for a while, swaying back and forth and crying into each others shoulders. He smelled like he always did, and you noted how hard it would be if you came across his familiar scent again. He also was getting high on your fumes, indulging in the coconut scented shampoo he had become addicted to. The touch of your hands clasping at his back made him cry harder, squeezing you tighter and lovingly.

You pulled back once your cries calmed, sniffling. He stayed close, lifting his eyes to look into yours. Before he knew how to stop himself, he closed in the space, landing his salty lips on yours, closing his eyes. You kissed him back, hating how much you’d miss him. The way his fingers dug into your hips made you lightheaded.

It’s too hard to stop, but you had to. Pulling away, you turned around quickly and left, sobbing all the way to your packed up car.

Kylian was glued in place. His heart had been put through a blender, his head throbbed, his chest was cold without you with him. He saw the flash of your headlights backing out and leaving the property reflect inside the dark and empty home.

He’s miserable, hollow. He’s angry at himself, maybe at you, even if he knows this was his own doing… the whirling in his brain wasn’t anywhere near as loud as the silence after you left — a deafening silence that followed him up to us bedroom, one he now only shared with his thoughts.

It killed him when he saw there was no longer a charger plugged next to your side of the bed, that your slippers were gone from their usual spot by the corner. None of your favorite books were displayed on the shelves, your skincare products left just a ring of residue on the sink. Stepping into the closet, he noticed it still smelled like you, but everything was gone. Everything but the shirts of his that you had stolen through the years, now neatly folded on top of one of his dressers. He wished you had taken them to remember him. He wished he could turn back time and do everything right.

Above all the sadness and the gaping hole is his heart was determination. He fucked up but he wasn’t about to do it again. You would not be the one that got away. It may be the last thing he ever does, but he’ll make it all up to you. He was prepared to go to the furthest lengths to hold you again. But, for now, he needed to wallow in self pity, feel everything that he needs to feel.

Not even on the chilliest Parisian night had his bed felt as cold as it did that day.

A/N: Okay I feel like I kinda dragged that out but angst! I’m contemplating a part 2 but I also kinda like leaving it at this… would y’all want another part? Also, the title is inspired by the song The Loneliest by Måneskin, listen to it after reading. Their new album is so fucking amazing. — Requests for Kylian Mbappé are open! —

[prettyinpurplelights]

kylian mbappe headcanons on what it would be like to date him?

Dating Kylian

(speaking from first hand experience of course 🤭) (Also i literally cant help myself i had to do a “how did you start dating”)

You meet Kylian at your distant cousin’s wedding, you weren’t even supposed to be there, but your mum had come down with something last minute and forced you to attend in her place

You’re at the bar at the reception with a caramel apple martini mocktail planning your escape when a handsome guy comes up to the bar orders the exact same drink

“I think you’re the first guy today to order that.” You say as he’s about to leave

He turns to you with a raised eyebrow

god he’s so handsome

“Not a dark liquor type of guy?” You ask

“Ew” He scrunches his face. “Definitely not, I like sweet things.”

“Ditto.” You raise your glass at him, nodding

And with that interaction, you find yourself in his car 30 minutes later headed back to the city, which is a whole 3 hour drive

He’d also been looking for an excuse to leave so he offered you a ride

You didn’t know this man or why he was being so generous but you were so desperate to get out, you hated weddings, especially when you know almost no one, so you took him up on it

Off topic: Mbappe driving…🧎‍♀️

You figure out who he was 2 hours into the drive when “Ramenez a la coupe de la maison” blares out through the speaker and you gasp so loudly when you realise he laughs

“My brother is going to lose his SHIT when he finds out THEE Mbappe drove me home.”

“Give me your phone.” He says when you finally reach your apartment. He punches his number into it

“Proof for your brother.” He winks, and suddenly you feel shy under his gaze

Fast forward to 4 days later and Mbappe is definitely sure you’re ghosting him

He’s venting to Neymar who just laughs at him because finally Kylian couldn’t bag a chick he wanted and Achraf being the voice of reason saying perhaps you were busy

It’s not for another week until he gets a text from you

“It’s Y/N’s brother. Prove you’re Mbappe and call her.”

He wastes no time ringing and the first thing he sees is you screaming at your brother to give the phone back

“Holy shit Y/N, you weren’t lying.” Your brother says

“You owe me 20 euros, dickhead.” Your face comes into view and you’re flushed and looking frustrated

“Hi.” You say to him. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Kylian laughs. “I’m glad your brother called, it’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh.” You blush

2 weeks later you’re going on your first date and for some reason Kylian is nervous

Kylian is confident, he knows what he wants and how to get it, never sweaty, never shy, never nervous but for some reason he wanted to impress you so much he works himself up over it

He picks you up with a bouquet of roses in his sweaty hand and you greet him with a kiss on the cheek which drives him slightly insane

Your date goes very well and you have another, and another and before you know it you’re his girlfriend

OKAY NOW TO THE DATING AKSHJSKSJS SORRY

KYLIAN IS A GOLDEN RETRIEVER/SUNSHINE BOYFRIEND AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL (my king of aeygo 🫶🏿)

Whenever you hang out at his or your place he’s basically on your leg like a koala

You can’t leave or enter the room without giving him a kiss first or he’ll pout and whine until you do

He absolutely loves cuddling, he’s the big spoon always (Alexa play cuffing season by sza)

Hugs from behind >>> he’ll just randomly wrap his arms around your waist and place his chin in the crook of your neck or pepper kisses across your neck instead

He also likes lying his head on your lap so you can give him head massages, he’s loves them a lot

Kylian spoils you way too much

“Hey babe remember that necklace we saw last week in the window you said you liked”

“Kylian that was just a passing comment please don’t tell me you-“

And he always presents the gifts with the cutest smile on his face, both his dimples shining so you can’t be mad at him

He knows you can’t be mad at him when he smiles like that and you know he won’t return anything you ask him to

He’s even worse on your birthday and valentine’s

You absolutely don’t know how he rents out the entire louvre for your first valentine’s together but he somehow does

“Baby, I’m Kylian Mbappe.”

Cocky little shit.

It’s the best date you’ve ever had, a candlelit picnic set up on the floor of the museum

You both hate fancy dinners however so your regular dates are always fun things like amusement parks, or roller skating, visiting new cities when he has the time and arcades

He’s a TERRIBLE loser btw kylian absolutely does not like to lose grumpy boy

You kicked his ass at fifa once and he gave you the silent treatment for a few hours

It never lasts longer than that because he’s missing you then he’s all over you again

Kylian loves kissing you, ik that boy is a phenomenal kisser i know it

Horny as fuck too.

He cannot keep his hands to himself however hard he tries, especially in public when you’re trying to not look obvious

He’ll put his hand in your back pocket, he’ll pull you into an alley and kiss you senseless, he’ll whisper in your ear for absolutely no reason because he likes seeing you hot and bothered

Your relationship is still private so he makes sure he pays you a lot of attention behind closed doors

He always makes sure you’re pleased first, he loves the way you moan his name and the sounds you make

Your lucky day is anytime he scores a hatrick, he makes sure you reach at least 7 big O’s in honour of his jersey number

You in his jersey - drives him CRAZY

You wearing his clothes in general, his favourite thing to see, especially first thing in the morning

You don’t argue a lot, but it happens, and you’re both stubborn af

He’s always the first to apologise though, especially if it’s when he’s come from a bad game or training session and that’s what causes the argument

As mentioned, Kylian doesn’t take loses very well, and sometimes he takes it out on you, but he doesn’t mean to

You do your best to be there for him in those times

There was a particularly bad argument because of a tabloid post and you went 4 days without a word to each other and he thought he was going to die

The make up sex is- *call drops*

He always holds you extra tight after

Your family absolutely love him, your mum especially

“You and Kylian are coming over this weekend? Is his favourite food still _____? I must go shopping.”

He always gifts your brother tickets to his games, you’ve gone a couple of times together and Kylian will always look up in the stands for you with a smile

Of course no one knows who he’s looking for

Until they do

The day your relationship is leaked was probably the worst day of your life, you had to take a few days off work because the paps wouldn’t leave you alone it was an absolute nightmare

Kylian was there for you the whole time, assuring you, loving you, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere

Once the media moved onto someone else, the relief of not having to hide anymore felt great

Especially for Kylian because he could now hold you hand and kiss you wherever he wanted, which he made sure he definitely did

He’s not possessive but he’s absolutely jealous, he knows you’re stunning and people look at you whenever you’re out

Makes a point of PDA when he notices someone staring

“Kyky they’re probably staring at you, not me.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

Now you’re in public relationship, you can sit with the other wags at his games so he know exactly where to find you when he wants to dedicate a goal to you

Champions league games and international friendlies are the worst when he had to travel and you can’t always go with him

He’d always call you before the game, he claims you’re his “porte bonheur” (good luck charm) or something of the sort

He comes straight to your apartment from the airport every time

His favourite days are lazy mornings with you when he doesn’t have training

He likes to cook for you sometimes, but he mostly steers clear of the kitchen

Especially after the time he almost burnt it down trying to make tacos

Also boy can he eat

You’re both big foodies, you have a spontaneous date night every week where you pick random restaurants or food truck places to try out

You’re sat on a bench at 11pm, 6 months into the two of you dating, with mouthfuls of food from a place you’d seen on tiktok when he asks you to move him with him

You’re hesitant at first because you do enjoy having your own space but you agree to it, you were over there a lot anyways, would be easier

And he said you can convert one of the spare bedrooms into your own safe space

Kylian is a huge romantic, corny too so he’ll leave little notes around the house for you

“You’re the straw to my berry” you find this in the fruit bowl

“You’re so sweet, I get a toothache just looking at you.” this was on the mirror above your bathroom sink

Stupid nicknames

“Kyks if you call me “your little avocado” or “your cheeky cotton bud” one more time, I’m calling you Donatello next time we have sex.”

He sticks to ma cherie or mon amour from then on

Living together means domestic things like cooking together and negatives like Kylian stealing your skin care products

And he absolutely has to do a face mask also everytime you do one

“Kylian this shit isn’t cheap keep your hands off!”

Next time you open your bathroom cabinet, there’s 6 of every product with a note: “I know something else that would be great for your skin, I’ll show you tonight.”

You’re very glad that night Kylian’s apartment is sound proof

Movie marathons together

Marvel and Disney especially, he’s team Iron Man 👎🏿

You absolutely cannot stand horror movies, but he loves them, you think it’s mostly because you always end up in his arms with your face in his neck to avoid watching them

Becoming really close with the other wags, especially Achraf’s wife Hiba, she becomes like a sister to you

Joking Kylian and Achraf were going to leave the two of you for each other

You and Kylian going to support Ethan at his games and babysitting his neice and nephew, he loves seeing you with him

So much so he asks you one night how you feel about having kids with him

“NOW??”

“Of course not now Y/N. Just at some point.”

You say yes

So he proposes 2 months later, he doesn’t care you’re young or have only been dating 15 months, he loves you and can’t see himself with anyone else

You say yes

2 years after your wedding you welcome your first child together, a baby girl the spitting image of Kylian and he’s never felt so content with life and how everything has turned out for him

——-

I hope this is okay 😭 I’m terrible with headcanons bc i always end up wanting to just write a fully fledged fic instead 😵‍💫

[lfcslut]

golden - part I

pairing: kylian mbappe x female reader

summary: you are childhood best friends with kylian. he grew up to become a professional football player, and you grew up to become a sports journalist. but what happens when outside forces test the limits of your love and friendship?

words: 3.6k

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of sex

author's note: ahhh! i've always wanted to do a multi-parter like this. i really hope you all enjoy! i'm not sure how long this series will be or to be honest exactly where it's going to go, but i'm excited. face claim is imaan hammam.

“Soph?”

“I’m in here!”

You were in your bedroom, struggling to zip up the sparkling silver gown that you had bought for tonight. You were one of the top sports journalists in Paris and so, naturally, you had been invited to tonight’s gala that Paris Saint Germain was hosting. It also didn’t hurt that your childhood best friend, Kylian Mbappe, was a PSG player. Neither of you had a date tonight, and it was an unspoken agreement that whenever the two of you were invited to the same event, you would go together. As friends, of course.

Kylian had let himself into your flat - both of you were at each other’s places so often that you had decided to give the other a set of keys to your respective homes long ago. You glanced at the clock. 7:03, shit, you thought to yourself. You weren’t even done with your makeup, yet. You should have known that Kylian would be on time. Ever since you were kids, he was the punctual, responsible one while you were the one who was perpetually running late.

“Are you decent?” Kylian asked, knocking on your bedroom door. 

“Yeah, come in,” you said. Kylian popped his head in the door and chuckled at the sight of you still struggling with the zipper.

“Do you need help with that?”

“Yes, please,” you said begrudgingly, annoyed that he was laughing at your suffering. You were facing the full length mirror in your room and watched as Kylian came up behind you. You saw him look you up and down once, before making eye contact with you in the mirror and smiling. 

“You look beautiful,” he said, his eyes lingering on yours for a few seconds before looking down to focus on your zipper. With ease, he zipped you up and then rested his hands on your shoulder.

“I’m glad you like it,” you said, even though you knew that Kylian’s compliment had been directed at you, not your dress. “Don’t be mad at me, but I still need to finish my makeup,” you said, turning to look at him with an apologetic look on your face.

Kylian rolled his eyes and smirked. “I should have known that 7 meant 7:30. I’ll tell Achraf and the boys that we’ll meet them there.”

You mouthed “thank you” as Kylian got on the phone. You sat down at your vanity to finish getting ready. After he was done talking to Achraf, Kylian plopped himself down on your bed. Though he pretended to be busy texting, he couldn’t help but sneak some quick glances at you in the mirror. He had seen you doing your makeup countless times before, and each time was as mesmerizing as the last. He always said that you looked just as beautiful without makeup as you did with it, but he had to admit that he loved the process of you filling in your eyebrows, smiling when you applied blush to your cheekbones, and making your “mascara face” as he liked to call it. More than anything though, he loved how content you looked when you were sat at your vanity, in your own little world.

“Alright, I just need to find my shoes,” you said as you finished setting your face and started rummaging around in your closet.

“It’s 7:35, Soph. We don’t want to miss the red carpet.”

“I mean, would that really be so bad? You know the tabloids are just gonna explode tomorrow when they find out we arrived together,” you said haphazardly, as you pulled out a pair of nude heels from the back of your closet. 

Kylian frowned. “Since when do you care about what the tabloids think?” 

You paused for a second, realizing how your words had come out.

“I don’t! It’s just… it’ll give more ammunition to all of your fans who already hate me because they think we’re together.” 

It was true, about half of your Instagram and Twitter comments were from anonymous Kylian fan accounts, calling you ugly and saying how you didn’t deserve Kylian, even though the two of you had made it abundantly clear to the public that you were just friends. Though you had to admit, for two people who were trying to squash relationship rumors, the two of you did spend quite a lot of time together.

“People will always talk. You’ve never let that stuff get to you before, so why are you worrying about it now?” 

It was a good question. You had never been one to be bothered by media and public speculation. As a female in the sports industry, you were more than used to people saying negative things about you. You had gotten used to ignoring what others had to say. So why was it different now?

You hesitated for a moment. “You’re right, Ky,” you finally said, smiling up at him. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Let’s just go and have a good time.”

Kylian grinned at you and the two of you headed out the front door to Kylian’s car.

While you were in the car on the way to the gala, your mind couldn’t help but wander to Kylian’s question. Why were you suddenly so weary of what people thought? Was it because of a certain someone at work who had suddenly started to take an interest in you? You and Kylian had been friends since you were in primary school, and so of course both of you had dated other people before. Almost all of your exes had been suspicious of your close friendship with Kylian - some had just been more vocal about it than others. You never really cared about what they thought though because, to be honest, you hadn’t really been serious about any of them. You had never been in a serious relationship, and while that had never bothered you before, you had recently started to wonder if perhaps your friendship with Kylian had contributed to that. After all, what guy would want their girlfriend to be spending more time with the Kylian Mbappe than with her own boyfriend? That was until last week, when a new intern at your TV channel named Lucas had caught your eye and asked you out. You had said yes, and the two of you had been texting almost nonstop since then. Lucas didn’t know about your friendship with Kylian, and Kylian didn’t know about Lucas. You almost always told Kylian when there was a new man in your life, so you weren’t sure why you were so hesitant to tell him this time around.

As soon as the two of you stepped out of the car and onto the red carpet, the flashing lights from the cameras blinded you. If it weren’t for Kylian reaching his hand out to help you out of the car, you were certain that you would have fallen flat on your face.

“Kylian, over here!”

“Kylian, who’s your date tonight?”

“Please could you sign this, Kylian?” 

Of course, most of the crowd had been waiting for Kylian all night, and so their attention was on him. There were a few people, though, who were calling out for you. Kylian continued to hold your hand to guide you through the crowd and onto the red carpet. Once you had made it through the sea of paparazzi and onto the carpet though, you promptly let go of his hand.

“Sophie, you look stunning!” An interviewer called you over, and you took this opportunity to step away from Kylian to speak with her. You could feel Kylian’s eyes on the back of your head, surely confused as to why you had left his side so quickly.   

After you were done with your interview, you headed into the hall while Kylian stayed behind to continue posing for pictures. You found your assigned table, where Achraf, Sergio, Neymar, and their respective dates were already seated. 

“Nice of you to finally join us,” said Achraf jokingly as you sat down. “Where’s Kyks?” 

“He’s still outside,” you responded, suddenly feeling very hot from all of the bright lights in the hall. You reached for the glass of water in front of you as Kylian made his way towards your table and sat down next to you.

You could tell that something was wrong with how quiet Kylian was all night. He chimed in from time to time during certain group conversations, but he didn’t say a single word to you, and he wasn’t his usual perky self. No one else seemed to notice, and you didn’t want to draw attention to it, so you waited until everyone had left to go and mingle before pulling Kylian aside.

“Alright, spit it out. What’s wrong?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” asked Kylian, and his inability to meet your eyes confirmed your suspicions that he was upset with you.

“I can tell that something���s wrong. You’re being weird,” you said.

“I’m the one who’s being weird? What about you?” Kylian asked, still not making eye contact with you and instead flashing a quick smile at one of his teammates who walked by. “You’re the one who suddenly doesn’t want to be photographed with me.”

So he had noticed when you had let go of his hand on the carpet. You were silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Ky. I don’t know what to say.”

Kylian’s eyes finally met yours, and you could tell that he was hurt by what you had done. “You’ve been distant recently, too. Don’t even try to deny it. What’s going on?”

Lucas. Lucas was what was going on. You hesitated, contemplating whether or not you should tell him. You knew that you weren’t going to be able to keep this a secret from Kylian for much longer.

“There’s someone at work. A co-worker of mine,” you mumbled, so quietly that Kylian had to lean forward to hear you over all of the chatter and music. “He asked me out and… well, I like him.” 

“And you don’t want him to see you pictured next to me in tomorrow’s paper?” Kylian asked.

You nodded sheepishly.

“Got it. Well then. You have fun.” Kylian walked away from you, and all you could do was gape after him. Kylian had never before walked away in the middle of a conversation like this. You could feel your eyes start to well up with tears, and for a moment you thought about calling a taxi to take yourself home, but you quickly snapped yourself out of it. You weren’t going to let this night go to waste. This was your opportunity to mingle with some of the biggest names in sports, and you were going to take advantage of it, with or without Kylian Mbappe by your side. 

As the night went on, you attempted to make conversation with various of the other attendees. Your sadness about Kylian quickly turned to anger though as you saw Kylian walking around, making his rounds at every table, laughing and smiling as he rubbed shoulders with players and managers. So what if you didn’t want your new crush to think that you were dating Kylian like the rest of the world did? What was so wrong about that? And the nerve of him to say that you were distant, when he was the one who had a habit of kicking you to the curb whenever he found a new girl to mess around with. Like an idiot, you kept running back to him when he called, listening to his problems and giving him advice. But now that you were the one who had found someone, you were the bad guy? 

“Hey, what’s going on with you and Kyks?” asked Achraf, coming up to your table and sitting down across from you. 

“Huh? What do you mean?” You had dozed off, busy staring off at the corner where Kylian was laughing and joking around with Brice and some of his other friends, and hadn’t even noticed Achraf coming up to you. 

“Usually the two of you are attached at the hip, but I haven’t seen you say a word to each other all night.”

“Oh. We just had a little argument, that’s all,” you said, finally taking your eyes off of Kylian across the room and reaching for your drink.  

“Did the two of you finally admit that you like each other?” Achraf asked casually, and you almost spit out your drink.

“What?! What makes you say that we like each other?”

“Oh come on, Soph. I’ve been telling Kylian for ages that you two are gonna get married one day. I mean, look at you. I tell myself that I’m Kylian’s best friend, but we all know that it’s actually you.” Achraf spoke casually, as if he was telling you something as simple as how the sky was blue.

“Well, I don’t like him as more than a friend, and I highly doubt that he does either,” you said, folding your arms across your chest. “In fact, I’m not sure if I even like him as a friend right now.”

“Ouch. That bad, huh?” 

When you refused to elaborate further, Achraf shrugged his shoulders and got up from the table. “Well, if you ever want to talk about it, you know how to reach me.” 

He walked away, and once he was out of earshot, you scoffed. As if you were going to be talking to Achraf Hakimi about your problems with Kylian.

Even though Kylian was supposed to be your ride home tonight, you decided to catch a taxi. Despite your desire to mingle with as many people as possible, you just weren’t in the mood tonight, so you headed out a bit early. As you walked out the door, you spotted Kylian sitting in a corner, laughing with his hand on the thigh of a beautiful blonde you didn’t recognize. You rolled your eyes and kept walking. 

When you got home that night, you kicked off your shoes and immediately fell down onto your bed. You picked up your phone and noticed that you had gotten a text. You secretly hoped that it was Kylian, apologizing for his behavior. When you opened up your messages though, you saw that it was actually from Lucas.

How was the gala? Bet you looked amazing x

You couldn’t help but smile as you looked down at your phone. Suddenly, you had an idea. You went to your bathroom and hesitated for a moment. Fuck it, you thought to yourself, and you pulled down the top of your dress so that more cleavage was visible than you would typically be comfortable with. You snapped a picture and, before you had time to think about it, sent it to Lucas. 

Had the best time :) Wish you had been there!

😍😍😍 you’re absolutely gorgeous. Wish I was there with you right now x

You smirked and put your phone away before you got yourself into any more trouble. 

When you woke up the next morning, much later than you normally would and with a raging hangover, you saw that Lucas had already sent you a Good morning, pretty girl text message. You grinned, responding back with your own good morning, and then opened a text that you had gotten from your friend, Lila.  

Did you see this? I thought you went to the gala together?  

Confused, you clicked on the link that she had sent you. A tabloid article popped up with a picture of Kylian and the blonde girl you had seen him with last night. The two of them were in the car together, both attempting to hide their faces from the cameras but doing a pretty poor job at it. 

KYLIAN MBAPPE SEEN LEAVING PSG GALA WITH MYSTERY BLONDE 

You scrolled through the article. There was another picture of the two of them walking arm in arm out of the hall where the gala had been held. You went down to the comments at the bottom of the article.

What’s her name? 

Kylian has a girlfriend?!?!?!?! 

She’s so pretty!

Wow, I always thought he was dating that journalist. 

Your heart began to beat fast and rage filled your veins. So this is how he was going to respond to your confession? By hooking up with some random girl and making sure all the tabloids knew about it? Kylian could be a player sometimes, but you had never known him to hook up with a girl he had just met, and he certainly wouldn’t let the paparazzi see him doing it. You knew that if he had wanted to keep this a secret, he could have, but he clearly hadn’t put any effort into hiding this. You rolled your eyes and tossed your phone to the other side of your bed. 

Well, two can play this game, you thought to yourself. 

You got out of bed and went to the bathroom to freshen up. You then changed out of your pajamas and into a pair of high-waisted jeans, a crop top, and your favorite black ankle booties. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked tired, and you hadn’t bothered to do your makeup, but who gave a shit. You picked up your phone and texted Lucas, asking for his address, which he immediately responded with. You grinned at his eagerness. You picked up a quick bite of breakfast from your kitchen before heading to your car and driving towards his place. 

Lucas only lived about a ten minute drive from you, and on your way there, you thought about what you were doing. You barely knew Lucas, and you were already sending him skimpy selfies and spontaneously driving to his place for your first real date? You cringed at how you were reeking with desperation. But Lucas was cute and available. And you were mad - really mad.

“Hi,” Lucas said with a smile when he opened the door. He was dressed casually in shorts and a t-shirt. Even when he looked like he had just gotten out of bed, he was still incredibly handsome. 

“Hi,” you said back. 

“Come on in.” 

You entered his flat, and you were immediately taken aback by how clean it was. Everything seemed like it was in just the right place. You had never seen a guy with such an immaculate place. You wandered around the living room, looking at the pictures of Lucas with his family and friends that lined the mantle.

“Wow, your place is beautiful,” you said, as you turned back around to look at him.

“Thank you! I’ve been here for ages. Can’t imagine living elsewhere, to be honest,” he answered, taking a seat on the sofa and gesturing for you to do the same.

“Sorry for dropping by unexpectedly. I thought I’d finally take you up on that offer for a date,” you said, smiling shyly. 

Lucas grinned. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten about that.”

“Unless you have other plans today, of course,” you added quickly.

Lucas shook his head. “Today, I’m all yours. Where do you want to go?” 

“I’m not sure. You pick,” you said. “Surprise me.”

“Alright, I see how it is, putting all the pressure on me,” Lucas chuckled. 

After a few more minutes of back and forth, the two of you headed out. Lucas took you to one of his favorite lunch spots across the street, where the two of you swapped stories about growing up, your favorite sports moments, and your lives in Paris. 

“So, what made you want to become a football journalist?” asked Lucas, as the two of you made the short walk back to his apartment after lunch. 

“My whole family’s huge football fans. I grew up watching the sport everyday,” you answered casually. This was a frequent question that you got, and your response had become almost second nature at this point. It wasn’t common for a little girl to want to grow up and become a sports reporter, so people often had a lot of questions about it. “I always wanted to play professionally, but I busted my knee pretty bad when I was a teenager. I took journalism in school and was pretty good at it. I love talking to people, as you can probably tell.” You chuckled. “So, I decided, why not become a sports reporter? That way, I get paid to talk to people about my favorite thing in the world.” 

Lucas smiled at you. “And look at you now. You’re one of the top sports journalists in the country.” 

Your cheeks began to flush. “I don’t know about that. I feel like I still have a long ways to go.” 

“Well, if I know anything about this business, it’s that passion is everything. And you sure have a lot of passion.” 

The two of you headed into his apartment, where you spent the rest of the evening watching movies and cuddling on the sofa. Cuddling quickly turned into something more, and before you knew it, you were waking up the next morning in bed with Lucas.

Shit, you thought to yourself as you woke up that morning, realizing where you were and who was in bed next to you. It was early, and Lucas was still fast asleep next to you. You grabbed your phone - and, in the process, realized that you were completely naked - and began texting Lila. 

You’re never going to believe what happened last night.

[mbappeslover]

écoute chérie // kylian mbappé | part two.

kylian mbappé x f! reader.

saw this edit on tiktok by strkvoid!!! 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 one first.

read finale.

“and then, he says he’ll call me in the morning. like what?”

y/n got home later that night and the first thing she did was call her friend to tell her of the events that went down.

“y/n, relax. i don’t know why you’re thinking so hard when it’s crystal clear.” y/n friend says.

“what’s crystal clear?” y/n asks.

y/n hears a deep sigh over the phone.

“you are such a idiot. it’s clear that he likes you, y/n! he’s interested in you.”

“but, i am his personal assistant. that can’t happen, he can’t be interested in me. do you want me to lose my job? i know i don’t.” y/n whines.

“i don’t know about you, but no regular boss does that to someone he only sees as a worker. an assistant… i’m just saying, if i were in your position, i’d be thinking of things to do when i become a wag.”

“shut up! i am not going to be a wag, i cannot stand you. plus, he literally hates me.” y/n rebuttals.

“again y/n, let’s use our brains. didn’t he say he had a reason. he was flirting with you and you think it’s nothing! you better go to his house tomorrow to find the answer.”

“okay, mom. you better be right about this.” y/n accepts in defeat because her friend is making a great point.

“mhm. i’m so tired, go to sleep y/n.”

“goodnight.” y/n says before hanging up.

you wake up to your phone ringing. it’s 8am.

‘who’s calling me at this time.’ you think to yourself.

still halfway asleep, you answer groggily.

“hello, who’s this?”

“waouh, j'ai mal. pourquoi mon numéro n'est pas enregistré? (wow, i am hurt. why is my number not saved?)”

fuck.

hearing the voice of the caller, you fully wake up immediately.

“no, no, kylian. i do have your number saved, i just, you just woke me up and i was still asleep, so i, i just answered the phone without lookin-“

“relax, i’m just joking. bonjour, y/n.”

even if it was way too early, kylian’s voice being the first thing you heard after waking up; it had to be the best thing ever.

“bonjour kylian, comment vas-tu? quelque chose est arrivé? (hello kylian, how are you? did something happen?)” you greet him back.

“no, nothing happened. i told you i would call you in the morning. i wanted to inform you that i decided to take a day off. so, you also have a day off.” he says.

“oh okay, is that all?” you ask.

“yes, that’s all. i’m outside of your building, get dressed and come down.”

you immediately sit up, removing the sheet off of yourself.

“what?! how are you? why are you…? you know what. didn’t you say today was my day off?” you question, confused.

“who said you’d be working? just come downstairs.” he says before hanging up the phone.

you calmly set your phone aside, before picking up a pillow, holding it up to your face and screaming in frustration.

you didn’t know what you were expecting, it sure as hell wasn’t that.

you hop in the shower and get dressed, wearing a black crop top, with black oversized cargo pants and panda nike dunks. you do a quick hairstyle and no-makeup makeup look before rushing downstairs.

it was a bit chilly in paris today, and you forgot to grab your coat before leaving the house.

you got downstairs but didn’t see the usual all-black van with extra dark tinted windows. it’s the car most celebrities drive in.

‘i thought he said he was outside…?’ you wonder, the wind making you shiver a bit.

you were about to pull out your phone to call him, when a red ferrari 488 pista pulls into the driveway.

the windows were tinted so you couldn’t tell who it was.

till the driver stepped out the car.

it was kylian. and, kylian looked so good.

he was wearing black airforce ones, cargo pants that cuffed at the ankles, a black shirt, with a light brown leather jacket.

you saw him outside of his practice uniform, it was usually athletic clothing, like a nike tech.

but, this?

he was all dressed up, and looked so nice.

“hello, y/n. over here! i knew you’d take a little while so i decided to get us something hot to drink in the meantime.” he said waving.

you walk up to kylian.

“this is yours? you’re so fancy.” you say in a teasing tone, running your index finger along the shiny exterior.

“yeah and rich.” he says confidently. he had his elbow propped up against the car door.

“whatever, you’re just kylian the crybaby in my eyes.” you scoff jokingly.

“don’t get too comfortable, miss y/l/n. i’m still your boss.” he says in a warning tone, of course, joking.

“you’re right. i don’t wanna go back to getting mean mugged all day for no reason.” you say, leaning against the car, crossing your arms.

“you know, you still have to explain to me why i deserved that.” you continue.

kylian just looks at you, up and down.

“where’s your coat? didn’t you know it’d be a bit chilly today? you look like you’re freezing.” he asks.

“is it that noticeable? i thought i was hiding the fact that i’m cold pretty well.” y/n says, a little disappointed.

kylian’s pov:

“is it that noticeable? i thought i was hiding the fact that i’m cold pretty well.”

there she goes with the unintentional pouting again, she just doesn’t know how cute she is.

on top of that, she had the nerve to dress so simple yet look so stunning.

he began to take off his jacket.

“what are you doing?” the woman in front of him questions.

“what does it look like i’m doing, cher?” he says trying to hand over the jacket to her.

y/n looked at the jacket, then looked at kylian.

‘please don’t be difficult.’ he hopes to himself

“i’m not wearing it.” y/n says before turning around, making her way the the passenger side.

he follows behind.

“yes, you are. you’re going to wear it.”

she reached to open the door, kylian quickly maneuvered in front and opened it for her.

“i’m going to make sure you won’t have to touch any door when with me.” he says to her, he didn’t realize how close they were to each other.

y/n’s pov:

he always does this. these small moments where they’re saying so much, yet so little.

her heart was beating, fast. abnormally fast.

after an intense stare down, y/n complies.

“fine, give me your stinky jacket.”

“stinky? you’re childish. i could never stink and you know that.” kylian says smirking as y/n slides on the jacket.

“he swears he’s all that and a bag of chips.” mumbles to herself.

“huh, what was that?” he says.

“nothing, what’s the plan for today?” you question, entering the car, kylian made sure you were properly seated, before closing the door for her and jogging to the driver’s seat.

“put your seatbelt on and here, this is for you. i got you some ginger-lemon tea. it tastes amazing.” he says pointing to the cup holder.

you thank him as he starts the car.

you sip on the tea, as you look out the window. you still didn’t know what the plan was today, but, obviously you weren’t gonna ask anymore questions because he wasn’t going to answer anyway.

it’s quiet, extremely quiet. but, it isn’t awkward, it’s quite nice.

why does the world suddenly slow down when i’m with my boss?

it’s ten minutes into the drive and kylian break the silence.

“earlier, you asked me what’s the plan. today’s plan is i’m taking you shopping.”

you choke on your drink.

“no.” you say after clearing your throat.

“no?” kylian questions, taking his eye off the road for a second to analyze your face.

“but, why?”

“why? just because.” kylian answers.

“you’re lying.” you shoot at him.

“yes, i am.” he shoots back.

kylian’s pov:

“what’s your deal?” she questions him.

“i can’t treat my assistant out to some shopping?” he says.

obviously, this isn’t normal. but, he likes y/n. he’s accepted that.

he still feels bad about the way he treated her.

he wants her.

“you’re not fooling anyone. i see right through you, mr. mbappé.” she scoffs.

“it’s kylian.” he replies, smirking.

they spent most of the day together at an extremely fancy mall in the heart of paris. places where only the elite shop: athletes, models, actors. so, the two didn’t need any security or had to worry about running into fans and paparazzi. it was just the two of them.

or at least they thought.

it was around 12 o’clock when they finished going through every store.

kylian bought y/n too many things.

when they first made it there, y/n refused to even set her eyes on anything in the shops because they were insanely expensive.

“we aren’t leaving here till you buy at least three items, please, i wanna do this for you. buy whatever you please.” kylian says to y/n.

y/n sighs before accepting it, she was grateful but she didn’t wanna use his money.

a few stores later, she lets kylian purchase exactly three things for her: christian louboutin so kate red bottoms, jacquemus asymmetric draped midi dress, and the chanel classic double flap bag.

the whole time kylian couldn’t keep her eyes off of her. he felt so happy, seeing y/n wear his leather jacket and him paying for anything that grabbed her attention.

they were making their way back to the car. kylian holding the bags.

“11.9K, not bad.” kylian says humorously.

“stop it, i will literally turn us back around and go return everything.” y/n says, still feeling a little bad for letting him spend that much.

he laughs.

“seriously, thank you, kylian. i’ll make sure to work over time to pay you back.” y/n says observing his face. if y/n had to choose her favorite part of kylian, it’d probably be his eyes. they were beautiful. big and clear. or his personality, he said so much, even when saying little. he had amazing comedic timing.

“pay me back? i offered to do this for you. i wanted to do it. i don’t expect to receive anything back.”

okay. she couldn’t deny it anymore. since day one, y/n was attracted to kylian. no doubt. he’s smart, he’s talented, he’s strong minded, with a strong heart. he’s an inspiration.

she smiled big, opening her arms to engulf kylian into a hug.

it obviously took him by surprise as he stumbled back. but, tried his best to hug her back with the bags in his hands.

they hug for a lengthy time. taking in each other’s warmth, shuffling from side to side. kylian smelled amazing, like a smoky, deep aroma.

y/n backed up, still at a close proximity with both hands on his shoulders.

“thank you, a million times. are you hungry? let’s go to your house. i’ll make you something very good to eat. c’mon.” you say, intertwining your hands with kylian’s sorta dragging him to the car.

you felt like you were in primary school again, having a stupid little crush and being all excited over it.

you two arrived to his penthouse. even if you were here the day before, you were still amazed at the beauty of his apartment.

you handed kylian back his coat, thanking him once more for letting you hold onto it this morning.

“i’ll set these down over here for you.” kylian says, referring to the shopping bag.

you hummed in response. making your way to the kitchen. looking through the fridge and cabinets to see what you’d be able to make.

kylian made his way to the kitchen island and took a seat there, watching you.

you turn around, “how does oven baked chicken and rice sound?”

“good. is there any way i can help?” he asks.

“mmm… no. just sit there and look pretty.”

“you think i’m pretty?”

“go to your room, kylian.”

“you said it, can’t take it back.”

“leave the kitchen, right now. go watch tv or something. the food won’t take long.” you say, shoo-ing him away. he laughs before getting up, plopping himself on the couch and turning on some tv.

he’s always laughing, loud and goofy.

you like it.

it was now 1 o’clock.

the food was ready. this time, two plates and two empty glass cups were set on the island.

“kylian, the food is ready, come eat!” you call out.

he gets up immediately and makes his way to to kitchen.

you see him approach with wide eyes, each second he gets closer, he gets even more amazed at the food.

“you don’t know how hungry i was, smelling the food didn’t help me much either. seeing it up close, is even better. how can you cook so well? i could kiss you right now.” he says enthusiastically, sitting down on the stool chair.

what did he say???

“ok, kiss me, what’s stopping you?” you chuckle, you were joking, but, serious. there was some seriousness in that sentence.

kylian looked up from the food fast, you could tell by his expression he wasn’t expecting you to say that.

“i’m just kidding. oh my gosh. you look like you were about to catch a heart attack, kissing me wouldn’t be that bad, you know.” you say playfully.

“anyways, what would you like to drink? water or orange juice. those are literally the only drinks you have in your fridge.” you ask, changing the subject.

“water would be fine, thank you.” you pour water into the two glass cups. you put the water back into the fridge and make your way around the island to sit next to kylian.

you two eat, sometimes occasionally staring at one another, and laughing when eye contact is made.

again, it’s nice.

you set your utensil down, sipping on some of the water before starting conversation.

“oh yeah, you told me you’d tell me why you treated me that way. i feel like now is the perfect time.”

he looks up, chewing the remaining food—wiping his mouth with some paper before sighing.

“yea i did tell you i would, it’s a long story but i’ll shorten it for you.”

it’s quiet, he looks to be deep in his thoughts. he looks hurt?

he begins, “i had a personal assistant before you. i got along with him very well. i thought we were buddies, we hung out like friends. multiple articles began coming out, stuff like ‘people close to young football prodigy reveals his terrible attitude and large ego.’ my manager and i thought it was just press doing their thing for some clicks and views. till more personal information of mine began to spread.”

he stops, sighing hard again.

“i just don’t know what i did for him to do that… we found out it was my assistant spreading rumors about me. things that were untrue, he got paid to fabricate stories. it really ruined my reputation. and it messed with me, i thought i had a genuine friendship with the guy.”

you pat and rub kylian on the back.

“oh, kylian. i’m so sorry.”

he looks you in the eye.

“no, y/n. i’m sorry. when i got the news of me getting a new personal assistant, i didn’t like the idea of it at all. i didn’t wanna have to deal with something like that again. so to make sure history wouldn’t repeat itself, i was awful to you. to see if you’d ‘rat me out’ to those gossip blogs. and i feel terrible, because you’re so sweet.”

you take his hands into yours.

“i forgive you.” you say, smiling sweetly at the man next to you.

he smiled, radiantly.

“thank you, y/n.”

“no problem, now, if you’re done, let me put your dish in the sink and go sit on the couch. i’ll cheer you up.” y/n says, gently removing her hand from kylian’s while getting up.

he listens, making his way to the couch.

kylian’s pov:

‘she’s perfect. she’s the one for me and she just doesn’t know it yet. i don’t care if she’s my personal assistant, i don’t want to be her friend. i want her.’ kylian thinks to himself while sitting on the couch. the only thing making noise is his mind and the water running as y/n clean the dishes.

y/n’s so patient and polite with him. he wants to build a healthy relationship with her.

his mind was making so much noise that he didn’t register that the girl on his mind, was seated next to him. staring at him.

“are you alright, mbappé?”

“hm? yes, yes i’m fine, y/l/n. so, how are you gonna cheer me up?” he responds.

“i’m gonna put on the dress you got for me, for you.”

‘i have got to be the luckiest man on earth.’ he thinks.

he’s rendered speechless. he didn’t know what to say so he just nods.

he watches y/n grab the bag and make her way to the bathroom.

for some reason, he’s nervous.

‘you’re acting like a virgin right now, loosen up.

you bastard, i am not acting like a virgin.

you sure are.

no i’m not. i am kylian mbappé. virgin who-‘ he says arguing with his consciousness.

he sees her walk out the bathroom.

y/n is the most beautiful person kylian has ever set his eyes on.

he sees she’s shy, kinda reserved as she walks towards him with a small smile on her lips.

“so, do you like it?

‘what sort of question is that?’ he wonders.

“do i like it, y/n? i love it. it hugs you in all the right places.”

he sees her blush.

“you’re cute, y/n. behind all that fiesta girl act you put up, you’re a little sweetheart.” he says, trying to get her to blush more.

it works as her smile beams.

he quickly grabs the remote, going on youtube and typing in a song.

he clicks on the video and the song begins, lyrics filling up the room.

‘j’ai pas fait semblant, j’te jure.’

he makes eye contact with her, smirking.

“it’s our song.” y/n says.

“yes, our song. come here, let’s dance. you look gorgeous.” he says, getting up.

they slowly close in on each other, shy giggles being shared. soft touches being placed.

‘partir, venir, mourir, courir.’

kylian has his hands wrapped around y/n’s waist, y/n’s arm around kylian’s neck. they weren’t making eye contact, but, they were pressed up against each other. in a tight hug as they swayed to the beat.

‘je te dirai que je t’aime.’

kylian lifts his face from the curve in your neck.

“you smell so good.” he whispers in your ear.

a feeling in your stomach began to tumble in at the breathlessness of his voice.

at that time, nothing mattered to the neither of you. forgetting that kylian’s your boss and you’re his personal assistant.

you look at him.

eyes connecting, like always.

“mhm?” you say, looking back into his eyes.

“oui.”

you two just look into each other’s eyes, then at each other’s lips, before the eyes again. their song playing in the back.

at the same time, you two lean in.

‘tais toi, écoute chérie. j’ai pas le temps.’

your lips meet.

one word to describe it: euphoric.

it was intense, but, soft and short. like the feelings they started growing for each other in such a short time.

they pulled back at once, they’re always connected, in sync with each other.

‘courir, partir, venir, mourir.’

kylian is the first to dive back into the kiss with more passion. y/n reciprocated it back. it’s like craving a sweet caramel candy, knowing you shouldn’t eat it because of cavities.

it feels so right, though.

his hands went lower, lightly gripping your bottom before caressing it.

“wait, kylian.” you say backing up from the kiss.

“is everything ok?” he asks concerned, backing up from you to give you space.

“c'était parfait. (it was perfect.)” you answer.

“but, this isn’t right. i’m your personal assistant, kylian.” you continue.

“so? i don’t care about that, obviously. i know this is a drastic change, but i want there to be an us. i’ve been attracted to you since the day i saw you in the psg office. i really wish we could’ve met under better circumstances, but, i still wanna get to know you. we can move at your pace.” he explains, getting closer to you, placing his hand around your waist again.

y/n thinks about it.

‘écoute chérie, c’est maintenant.’

she looks into the eyes of the boy who’s on her mind, all the time.

“i do have a tiny crush on you, sir. we’ll work this out, right?”

“yes, we will.” kylian says, landing his lips onto y/n’s.

a/n (author’s note):

y’all the clutch for this was insaneee, i was so motivated thanks to the kindness i received from dropping écoute chérie part one. i hopeeee y’all enjoy this, it was so fun to write. it’s not completely revised as of rn so if u see any mistakes, it should be fixed in short time. as the saying goes… it’s calm before the storm. ecouté chérie part three is on the way! thank u for reading <333