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kennasutopia · 11 days ago

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"with heat and wet skin, our bodies are tossed and turned, tangled up in it."

— kylian mbappé x reader: smut

Kylian stood in the dimly lit locker room, his breathing heavy and the sound of his heart echoing in the silence that had descended upon the space. His hands trembled as he pulled off his Real Madrid jersey, the fabric clinging to his sweat-drenched body like a second skin. The once vibrant white and gold colors looked dull under the stark lights, mirroring the mood that had settled over the team.

The loss to AC Milan had been more than a match; it had been a personal vendetta, and he'd failed. His thoughts swirled like a tornado, a whirlwind of missed opportunities and haunting regrets.

Outside the locker room, his family stood as a haven of warmth and love amidst the storm of despair that swept through the stadium.

And then his gaze found you.

Eyes soft with empathy, understanding the weight of Kylian's talent and the pressure he bore. Your hand slipped into his, grounding him with a steady, reassuring grip. In that touch, a calm washed over him—one he hadn’t known since the final whistle. Though the loss lingered heavily among his teammates, here, with you and his family, Kylian felt a quiet peace return.

His home in Madrid was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where Kylian could retreat from the prying eyes of the media and the echoes of the stadium.

He was tired. So was you. The weight of the day had settled into his bones, and he could feel it in the way they creaked as he climbed the stairs. His girlfriend, a silent shadow beside him, mirrored his exhaustion. They had spent the evening with his family, laughing and sharing stories, but the joy had not been able to completely mask the lingering tension that clung to him like a second skin.

The bedroom was a sanctuary of sorts, the darkness welcoming and enveloping. He collapsed onto the bed, his legs feeling like lead. You sat beside him, your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moon that filtered through the curtains. They didn't speak; words seemed redundant in the face of the unspoken understanding that filled the space between them. Your hand found his, and you gave it a gentle squeeze. It was a small gesture, but it felt like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man.

For a moment, Kylian Mbappé allowed himself to simply be. To exist in the quiet comfort of your presence, the only respite from the cacophony of voices that echoed in his head. The chorus of doubt, the whispers of failure, and the relentless drumbeat of expectation. But here, in the quiet solitude of his bedroom, they faded to a murmur. He took a deep breath, feeling your warmth beside him, and let his eyes drift shut.

2:00 AM

The room was silent, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath the plush carpet. The curtains were drawn, letting in just enough light to cast a soft glow across the empty space where your boyfriend should have been. The bed, still rumpled from a restless night, was cold to the touch. You sat up, blinking sleep from your eyes, and called out his name.

"Kylian?" No answer.

The quiet was eerie, a stark contrast to the usual pattern of sounds that filled their mansion: the clatter of breakfast dishes, the hum of the TV from the other room, his laughter.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed and padded down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps echoing through the emptiness.

As you approached the gym, you pushed the door open, Kylian stood in the center of the room, his back to you, his shoulders taut and his eyes glued to the screen of his phone. The gym, once a place of triumph and camaraderie, now felt like a prison cell, a stark reminder of the burdens he carried.

"Kylian?" you said again, your voice softer this time.

He didn't look up. The screen of his phone was illuminating his face, casting a pale blue light on his features that made him look more haunted than ever.

You stepped closer, your bare feet whispering against the cold floor. "Kylian, what's going on?"

Finally, he looked up. His eyes, once full of life and ambition, now held a sadness that seemed to swallow the light from the room. He pocketed his phone and turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "It's just... the match," he murmured.

You didn't need to hear the details to understand. The whispers of doubt, the relentless scrutiny, the endless replay of his missed shot in the final minutes of the game—it was all etched into the lines of his face, the furrow in his brow.

"Please, come back to bed," you said gently, reaching up to hug him. He leaned into your embrace, and you felt the tension in his body slowly start to melt away.

He nodded, his eyes searched yours for a moment before looking away. You took his hands in yours, the warmth of your touch seemed to bring a glimmer of hope to the shadows in his eyes. Hand in hand, you both made your way back to the bedroom.

The soft light from the bedside lamp painting the walls in a comforting glow. He slid into the sheets, and you curled up beside him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

For a moment, everything else was forgotten, lost in the simple act of being close. He propped himself up on one elbow, his free hand tracing patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. The smile on his face grew, and you felt his mood lighten as he kissed your forehead, your nose, and finally, your lips.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he whispered something that sent you both into a fit of giggles. The room was filled with the music of your shared amusement, a balm to the raw edges of his pain. His hand found its way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, and you felt the tension in his body begin to unravel like a tightly wound ball of yarn.

With your faces close, hearts beating in harmony, he leaned in, his nose grazing yours. His warm breath brushed your cheeks as he whispered, "You make everything else fade away." His words were a soft embrace, and as he kissed you once more, you felt the warmth of his skin, the gentle roughness of his stubble—a touch tender yet filled with longing.

The laughter subsided into sweet, content smiles. His hand slid down your side, tracing the curve of your hip before coming to rest on your thigh. His thumb made small, lazy circles, sending a warmth that spread through your body like wildfire. You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb stroking the line of his jaw. His eyes searched yours, looking for reassurance, for a promise that you'd be there to help him climb out of this abyss.

Leaning in, you whispered, "I'm here for you, always." It was a simple declaration, but it held the weight of the world in those three words. His smile grew, the shadows in his eyes retreating just a little more. He leaned closer, his nose grazing yours as he took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hair. His hand slipped under the hem of your shirt, his fingertips grazing the soft skin of your waist, sending shivers across your body.

The tension in the room gives way to something more intimate. His laughter was like the sound of rain on a rooftop, a gentle crescendo that filled the room with warmth. You felt your cheeks flush as he kissed you again, his mouth moving from yours to your neck, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin just below your ear, and you gasped, arching into the kiss.

As he kissed you, his tongue sought yours, sliding into your mouth in a dance as intimate as it was erotic. You moaned softly, the sound lost in the warmth of his embrace. His touch grew bolder, his hand moving up to cup your breast. You felt your nipple stiffen under his palm, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed against the sensitive peak. His touch was firm but gentle, a silent reassurance that he was here, present, and focused solely on you. The kiss grew deeper, more intense, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer still.

The sensation of his tongue against yours was intoxicating, a sweet agony that had you squirming beneath the sheets. His hand found the hem of your shirt and clasp of your bra, deftly releasing it. The fabric fell away, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. He groaned as his hand closed over your naked breast, his thumb and forefinger teasing your nipple in a rhythm that matched the beating of your heart. The warmth of his hand seeped into your flesh, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You broke the kiss, panting, and Kylian took the opportunity to pepper your neck with gentle kisses, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

You arched your back, pushing your chest into his hand, "Baby… please…" He obliged, his mouth closing around your nipple, his tongue flicking against the sensitive flesh. The sensation was electric, making you gasp as your body responded to his touch. His hand slid down to your stomach, his fingers tracing the waistband of your panties. The anticipation was unbearable, a delicious ache that made your toes curl.

"Look at you, so needy for me, unable to hold back. Dis-moi exactement ce que tu veux, bébé…"

You gasps, voice trembling, "Encore, s'il te plaît…" (More, please...)

He kissed his way back to your mouth, his tongue delving deep, tasting every inch of you. You could feel the passion between you, a palpable force that seemed to vibrate through the very air. His hand slid under the fabric of your panties, his fingertips brushing against your damp folds. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he found your clit, gently rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. Your hips bucked against his hand, desperate for more pressure, more contact.

With one swift motion, he tugged your panties down, leaving you completely naked. You felt vulnerable, exposed, but the fire in his eyes only served to ignite the passion within you. He took a step back, his gaze raking over your body, taking in every inch of your bare skin. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, made you feel powerful, desirable, and incredibly turned on. You watched as he took in the sight of you, his chest rising and falling with his own excitement.

He slid his own shirt over his head, revealing the tapestry of taut muscles and the scar from the match that had left its mark. It was a stark reminder of the strength and resilience that lay beneath his troubled exterior. Your eyes roved over his torso, tracing the lines of his abs, the powerful planes of his chest. His hands found the button of his shorts, and you bit your lip in anticipation as he lowered the zipper, his eyes never leaving yours. The fabric fell to the floor, revealing his erection, standing proud and firm against his thigh.

The sight of him, fully exposed, only served to heighten the ache between your legs. You reached out to touch him, your hand tentative at first, but growing bolder as you felt the velvet steel of his cock. He hissed in a breath as you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him gently. The vulnerability of the moment was intoxicating, a heady cocktail of desire and power. You felt your own arousal building, wetness pooling at the apex of your thighs.

He watched you, his eyes dark with need, as you explored his body. Your hand moved lower, cupping his balls, rolling them gently in your palm. He groaned, his hips jerking forward. You could feel the tension in his muscles as he fought for control, his self-restraint a silent testament to his respect for you. The air in the room grew thick with lust, the scent of your desire mingling with the faint tang of his sweat.

You leaned back, letting him take in the full view of your nakedness. The soft light caressed your curves, highlighting the peaks of your breasts and the shadowy valley between your thighs. The vulnerability was heady, a thrilling rush that made your pulse race and your core throb. He took a step closer, his erection brushing against your leg, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His hand slid down your stomach, his fingertips dancing over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

As he reached the apex of your thighs, you spread your legs wider, inviting his touch. His fingers grazed your folds, finding you wet and ready. He groaned, the sound a mix of relief and hunger, and you felt yourself grow even wetter. He stroked you gently, his thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that had you writhing beneath his touch. His eyes never left yours, watching the play of emotions that flitted across your face like a silent movie.

You could see the desire in his gaze, the raw, primal need that mirrored your own. It was a heady feeling, knowing that Kylian had this power over you, that he could make you lose control with just a look, a touch, a moan. His hand grew more insistent, his fingers slipping inside you, filling you completely. You gasped, your hips rising to meet his hand, eager for more. His movements grew more urgent, his fingers pumping in and out in a rhythm that matched the racing of your heart. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, the tension in your core tightening like a coil about to snap.

He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "j'a hâte de te baiser à fond," (I can't wait to fuck you hard) his accent thick with passion. His free hand found your breast again, squeezing and rolling your nipple as he continued to tease and taunt you. You moaned the sound of a desperate plea for release. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you feel like you were going to shatter into a million pieces.

The first orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath and leaving you trembling. Your nails dug into the sheets as your body arched, your cunt clenching around his fingers. He didn't stop, though, his hand relentless as he brought you to the peak again. You could feel the beginnings of the second orgasm building, a crescendo of sensation that had you begging for release. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his breath hot against your neck as he coaxed you closer. And then it was there, the explosion of pleasure that sent your vision swimming and your muscles quivering.

He positioned himself between your legs, his cock poised at your entrance. Despite the intense orgasms you'd just had you took a deep breath, letting the anticipation build as you felt the head of his cock slip inside you. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect mix of pleasure and pressure. You felt yourself clench around him, your body's instinctive response to the sudden fullness. "Relax," he murmured again, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek. "Let me in."

You nodded, willing your muscles to ease. His cock slid in deeper, filling you completely. You moaned, the sound a mix of pleasure and surprise at how good it felt. He began to move, his hips rocking in a steady, powerful rhythm. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, making your toes curl and your back arch. You felt your cunt tighten around him, the walls pulsing as they struggled to adjust to his size. But he was relentless, his movements slow and deliberate, giving your body time to accept him fully.

As he pushed into you, you could feel your orgasm building again. It was different this time, slower, more intense. He leaned down, his mouth capturing yours in a bruising kiss as he picked up the pace. His hips slammed into yours, the impact sending jolts of pleasure up your spine. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, needing to feel him in every part of you. The sound of your bodies coming together filled the room, a symphony of passion that drowned out the whispers of doubt that had plagued him for so long.

The third orgasm hit you like a freight train, your body convulsing around him. He groaned into your mouth, his cock pulsing as he felt your walls clench tightly around him. He didn't stop, though, his hips still moving in a relentless rhythm. You could feel yourself growing wetter, your juices coating him, making his movements easier. The friction was exquisite, a sweet torture that had you panting and begging for more. He broke the kiss, his mouth moving to your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. You felt him swell inside you, his cock thickening as he approached his climax.

With a swift pull, you found yourself on top of him, the heat of his body radiating beneath you, as your hearts beat in sync, suspended in a quiet tension of the closeness between you.

You threw your head back, riding him like a wild animal in heat. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, and the slapping of skin on skin was the only music you needed. Kylian's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, his eyes never leaving yours. The smirk on his face grew wider as he watched you, the power of your pleasure evident in every line of your body. "That's it," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "Take it all."

You could feel him swelling inside you, the pressure building with each stroke. Your movements grew more frantic, your breaths coming in pants. His thumb found your clit, pressing down firmly as he thrust up into you. The sensation was too much, sending you spiraling over the edge again. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you came, your walls clenching around his cock in a spasm of ecstasy. He groaned, his eyes dark with desire, and you felt him tense beneath you.

With a final, powerful thrust, he came, filling you with his hot seed. You felt it pulse deep within you, a declaration of possession that sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine. He held you there, his cock buried deep inside you, as he caught his breath. His grip on your hips was like iron, his control over your body absolute. And as the tremors of your orgasm subsided, you realized that he had been right all along. This wasn't just about distraction or comfort. It was about power, about reaffirming his dominance in the face of his recent defeat.

He kissed you then, gently, his tongue slipping into your mouth to tangle with yours. The taste of him was sweet and salty, a reminder of the passion that had just been shared. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if trying to meld your bodies into one. For a brief moment, the world outside the bedroom walls ceased to exist. There was only the two of you, lost in the aftermath of your passionate dance.

As he pulled out, you felt a twinge of emptiness, but it was quickly replaced by a warm sense of fulfillment. He rolled onto his back, taking you with him, and you curled into his embrace, your head resting on his chest. The steady thud of his heartbeat was a comforting lullaby, a reminder that despite the chaos of the outside world, there was peace to be found in his arms.

The room grew quiet again, the only sounds the mingling of your breaths and the distant hum of the city. You felt the tension in his body slowly seep away, his muscles relaxing beneath your touch. The ghosts of Milan had been laid to rest, at least for now. In this moment, all that mattered was the warmth of your shared love, the sweetness of your union.

Kylian pulled the covers over you both, tucking you into the cocoon of the bed. He kissed the top of your head, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace.

"I love you."

You looked up at him, the softness in his eyes making your heart swell.

"I love you, too," you whispered.

His love was the one thing that remained constant, a beacon of light in the storm of his tumultuous career.

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