#Kylian mbappé smut

[haartemis]

BIG EGO | Kylian Mbappé

pairing: kylian mbappe x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: people say you and kylian are the perfect match; both of you confident, unstoppable, and drawn to each other like magnets. when one evening you loyally defend him against snarky online critics, kylian shows his appreciation by proving once again that while his ego might be big, there’s something else of his that's even bigger...

warnings: smut!!! its all smut

a/n: this song feels like kylian so much lol, i figured i had to write something based on it. writing smut is still so hard *no pun intended* 🥲 feedback is welcome

you know kylian better than anyone else.

he’s kind, funny, smart, but above all, he’s confident. he doesn’t downplay his talent or pretend not to notice the greatness everyone else sees in him. instead, he’s matter of fact about it, and you find that quality of his charming, magnetic, and infuriatingly sexy. why?because you’re the same.

you know your worth. why move through the world being fake humble? you’re aware of who you are, what you’re capable of, and you don’t see the point in pretending otherwise. there’s no reward in dimming your light to make others feel comfortable. it’s not arrogance; it’s confidence. but for many men, especially those you were romantically involved with in the past, your confidence often intimidated them, and they ran away.

not kylian, though.

when you first met him, a meddling stranger had warned with fake concern that kylian was 'too full of himself' and therefore bad news. yet from the very first conversation it was like seeing yourself reflected in someone else. the same drive to succeed in your careers, the same unwavering self assurance. where others saw you as a threat, he saw you as an equal partner, and he didn’t shrink away from you. instead, he was drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. or more accurately, like fire meeting fire. together, you bring out the best in each other.

"what a beautiful couple!' people usually exclaim at weddings, birthday parties, or any social gathering. they admire the way you hold yourselves, the way your personalities mesh in such a perfect way. you understand why it works: you see the best in yourselves, and you see it in each other too. and sometimes you play up the cockiness people project onto you two, just cuz it's fun. especially in the bedroom, when its just you two and you can bask in each other's love.

but sometimes, that projection can get under your skin. tonight is one of those nights.

you’ve just gotten back home after an evening game at the bernabeu, a game the team won. it feels like he’s hitting his stride again, growing sharper and more confident in the white shirt he’s always dreamed of wearing. he scored a nice goal, yet the trolls online still seem determined to tear him down.

kylian has never really minded it. whether praise or criticism, he’s used to people talking about him. he knows football fans can be fickle and reactionary, so he usually doesn't put much weight onto whatever they say. in fact, he makes a point to stay offline most of the time, to disconnect from the craziness of twitter. but you? you're very online, and sometimes you can’t help but want to bite back on his behalf.

you’re scrolling through your twitter timeline, sitting on your bed waiting for kylian to come to bed so you can call it a night, when one tweet catches your eye: “the dictator is destroying the locker room”

you roll your eyes. you scroll down and find another: “he’s so arrogant, always calling himself one of the best players in the world”

the audacity.

before you can think twice, your fingers are already typing away. “he talks like this cuz he can back it up!” you hit send, satisfaction coursing through you at having shut up one more idiot spewing nonsense on the internet.

“what are you doing?” kylian’s voice pulls you back to reality.

you glance up, and your breath hitches. he’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, having just emerged from the walk-in closet wearing his usual bedtime attire: absolutely nothing but a pair of tight black boxers. your gaze involuntarily slides over the sharp planes of his abs, to his bulging crotch where you can see a hint of a curve beneath the waistband, then finally to his powerful, sculpted thighs. you swallow hard at the sight.

“nothing” you say, a little too quickly.

his eyebrows lift, and he steps closer before sitting down on the bed beside you, taking the phone from your hands. his eyes scan the screen, and his smirk widens. “defending my honor online huh?”

you fold your arms, suddenly defensive. “they were saying ridiculous things and you’re too chill about it”

he shakes his head, chuckling softly. “ma chérie, people have been talking about me for years. i don’t care what they say. why do you?”

“because you deserve better” you say, your voice firm. “they act like it’s a crime that you're confident. it pisses me off”

his expression softens. he cups your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “i don’t need anyone to fight my battles” he says, his voice low. “but it’s cute that you want to”

you glare at him half heartedly. “i’m not cute. i’m right”

“you’re both” he says, leaning his head in the crook of your neck. “and just so you know, i love that you’re always in my corner. i think it's really hot”

he presses his lips to the soft curve of your neck, breathing you in before pressing slow kisses, lips dragging a trail of shivers in their wake. his fingers find the thin strap of your camisole, sliding it down your shoulder as his hands begin to roam from your shoulders to your waist, before tracing the curve of your hips and gliding over your thighs.

then his lips move to yours, his tongue slipping past your lips with ease. your hands move instinctively, one cradling the back of his head, while the other grazes the nape of his neck with your nails. you know exactly what that does to him, the way it sends a shiver rippling through his body. his sharp inhale against your mouth tells you you’ve hit your mark, and it only encourages you, pulling him closer as the kiss grows even more heated.

“that skirt you wore tonight…” he murmurs against your lips, his hands slipping under the hem of your pajama shorts and gripping your upper thighs. “you knew what you were doing, didn’t you? showing off these legs. in the tunnel when you were waiting for me, all the guys there were staring at you”

you break the kiss. “jealous?”

“no" he says calmly. “there’s no one better than me"

you know he means it. and it turns you on.

he continues, “they can try, but they’ll never make your head turn, because no one compares to me”

your hand wanders to his bulge, and you hear his breath hitch as you rub him through his boxers.

“such a huge ego” you tease.

he just shrugs in response, a proud smirk playing on his face. the same smirk he has in press conferences when he’s outsmarted a slick journalist fishing for a soundbite to twist out of context.

you lick the palm of your hand and slide it inside his boxers, eagerly pulling him out. his hips involuntarily jerk at the contact, and you smirk. you swipe your fingers over the fat, swollen head, admiring the sight of what's in your hand. he’s so warm, so so hard, so smooth. and all yours to play with.

“y/n” his voice comes out rugged. “fuck that’s good”

you like watching all of his control dissolve. love replacing that smirk on his face with an agonized look.

“tell me what else is good” you murmur as you slowly stroke him, tightening your grip.

kylian groans, his head tipping back. 

“being inside you. that’s the best” he breathes, his voice rough with desire. “but you already know that”

your smirk widens as you lean closer to him. “i do” you tease, your lips brushing against his ear. your tongue peeks out and sensually drags over his lobe before you bite it, eliciting a breathy sigh from him. “but I like hearing you say it”

you keep stroking him, and the faster you jerk his dick, the more he falls apart. soon he’s moaning, catching your wrist with one strong hand, begging you, “no more. don’t make me come before i get inside you”

you pout before slowing your movements, running your thumb over one thick vein running up the length of him. 

“y/n” he groans, his hips jerking once again. unable to resist, you press a chaste kiss to the place where the vein meets the head. your mouth is watering for him.

but just as you're about to get down on your knees so you can finally put him in your mouth, he suddenly moves, his hands slipping under your thighs to lift you effortlessly and laying you back against the bed. his body hovers over yours, and his gaze locks onto yours, intense and dark with arousal. 

“i was about to suck you off” you whine. 

he grins. "you'll get to, any time you want. its all yours. but i want to taste you tonight"

his mouth moves to your neck, his lips brushing softly before his teeth scrape against your skin. you let out a contented sigh, his words making you very excited for what's to come.

his hands slide under your camisole, pushing it up and over your head in one fluid motion. the cool air meets your heated skin, and his eyes lazily glide over your naked form. he tweaks one nipple, and you shiver.

his hands go lower, and he gently lifts you up by the hip so can he slide your shorts and panties off you. 

“no one compares to you either, you know” he says, his voice thick with meaning as he shifts lower on the bed, his broad shoulders spreading your legs with ease. he pauses, glancing up at you with that infuriatingly confident wink. “not in this lifetime. or the next. or ever. we’re the same. that's why we're made for each other”

and with that, he dips his head, his mouth finding its rightful place.

you let out a quiet yelp as his tongue slides through your folds inquisitively, as if it hasn’t been there a hundred times before. it's warm and probing, and almost reverent, like you're a delicious meal he's trying to savor. his beard that you make fun of serves its purpose in times like these; it rasps against the tender spot where your thighs meet your ass, and the friction amplifies everything, every sensation sharper, hotter, better. you can't help but arch into him, craving more.

and then there’s his hand, his fingers working your clit in such fast, insistent circles that if he stops you might kill him. the intensity builds so quickly it’s almost unbearable, and you grip the sheets like they’re the only thing anchoring you. you’re lying on a bed, yes, but his tongue is making you so weak you’re sure you’ll fall apart if it wasn’t for one of his strong arms wrapped around your upper thigh  holding you in place. even then, you writhe and squirm, eyes shut in ecstasy, mouth repeating “yes, please”s and “oh my god”s and nothing else. 

when you finally come, the pleasure rolls through you in waves, leaving you boneless and trembling. still, he doesn’t stop. his tongue stokes you through the aftershock,  even as your muscles turn into liquid and your body feels like it’s floating.

he finally relents when you place your hand on his head and shake him slightly. he looks up, his lips and the tip of his pretty nose glistening from your wetness, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. he’s got a smug look on his face. “see? who else could do this to you?”

you don’t answer him with words; instead, you let your body speak for you. wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him down to you, drawing his mouth to yours. the kiss is slow and languid, your lips moving against his as you savor the taste of yourself on him. 

when your breath steadies and the aftermath of your orgasm fades into a warm feeling, you nip at his bottom lip, tugging it gently before pulling back. the smirk that crosses his face tells you he already knows what’s coming next.

because it’s kylian, and he knows you as intimately as you know yourself. because it always feels like he can read your mind, like your desires are two halves of the same whole. without a word, he rolls onto his back, sprawling against the sheets compliantly, leaving himself open for you to ride him.

you waste no time, sliding over him and straddling his strong thigh, the muscles beneath you flexing beautifully. his hands find your hips, steadying you as you position yourself. your bodies align perfectly, and as you sink down onto him, he slides home with ease.

there’s no painful friction, but there’s still a small pleasurable ache, the stretch that always comes with him. no matter how many times you’ve done this, your body always needs a moment to adjust, to accommodate him. the slight burn is part of the experience, a reminder of just how much of him there is. he groans low in his throat as you take him fully, the sound vibrating through your chest. "you're so big" you moan.

“you okay?” he murmurs, his voice rough but caring.

you nod, resting your palms on his chest as you steady yourself. “yeah” you whisper. "i can handle you"

his lips curve into a  grin, his hands tightening on your hips. “i know” he says, his tone shifting “we fit so good. i told you, we're made for each other”

his words send a shiver through you as you rise slowly and sinking back down on him again. the drag of his cock against your walls sends sparks shooting through your body, and you bite your lip, letting out a soft moan. kylian’s gaze never leaves you, his dark eyes filled with heat and something deeper, something raw and unspoken.

“fuck, you’re perfect” he breathes, his fingers pressing into your skin as you find your rhythm.

you move with deliberate slowness at first,  your hips rolling as you grind against him. the sensation is exhilarating, the way he fills you, stretches you, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing worth watching in the world.

leaning down, you press your lips to his ear. “you like watching me take you like this, don’t you?” you murmur, your voice dripping with confidence. “because I’m so fucking hot”

he groans, his hands sliding up your sides, over your ribs, until they find your breasts. His thumbs brush over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you. “you're so fucking hot” he agrees, his hips bucking slightly, pushing even deeper.

you pick up the pace, riding him with more intensity now, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. his hands guide your movements, helping you find just the right angle, and soon you’re both lost in the heat of it, in the raw, unending need for each other. from time to time you lean down to give him a better view of your breasts, the way you know he likes it.

when his hand slides between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, it’s almost too much. the added stimulation sends you over the edge, your head tipping back as pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave.

“ky” you cry out, your hands clutching at his chest as you fall apart around him.

“baby” he groans. he repeats his upward thrusts, holding you in place so you can do nothing but take it. again, again, and again, until you tighten yourself around him so much he has no chance of holding it off. his own release chases after yours.

finally he stills, his body tensing as he lets go, a deep, guttural moan leaving his mouth. 

for a moment, neither of you moves, your breaths mingling as you come down from the high. then he reaches up, cupping your face and pulling you down for a kiss. It’s slow and tender, a contrast to the fire that had just consumed you both.

when you finally pull away, his lips curve into a lazy smile. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

you smirk, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "of course i do”

you know he knows you mean it.

his laugh is soft, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. “god, i love you” he says, and the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell.

you lean down, pressing your forehead to his. “i love you too, ky” you whisper.

slowly, you lift yourself off him, feeling the tender ache as you slide him out of you. you settle back onto the bed beside him, the sheets cool against your hot, sweaty skin. for a while, you both just lie there catching your breath.

“what was that tweet you saw about me earlier?” kylian asks a little later, after you’ve taken care of the mandatory post sex clean up routine and gotten back in bed.

“hmm?”

“earlier,” he repeats, turning his head to look at you. “i saw your reply, but I didn’t see the tweet you were replying to. what did it say?”

“oh that” you giggle. there’s still so much endorphins rushing in you that you can’t even find the anger you felt earlier when you saw the tweet. “it said you’re destroying the real madrid locker room”

kylian arranges his face into a mock scowl. “nonsense” he says, lips twitching. he pauses for dramatic effect, and you know what he’s about to say. “the only thing I destroy is this pussy”

you both burst out laughing. 

tags: @idontknowwhatthisvis555 @nowrosesaredead @iuoiyr @acarolnzinhaa-03 @ynkfreeastheocean @scottishthistle @user6373738 @loonworld @whateveryouloser @greyishbach @ajsboys @kyliansonlygf @lucysantos6-blog @tuliptopiasstuff @kennasutopia @cinderellawithashoe @akiracim @kymb-10 @germanapples @heartbreakylian @cleverwinnermaker @creampuff07

[swayziiwriter]

Embrace | Kylian Mbappé

summary: Kylian’s return from international duty meant that he was not only home but all yours until the league continued, and you were going to make the most of it.

WARNING: 18+, sexual content

NOTE: imagine the cold nights in Paris spent in bed with Kylian

You cuddled nearer to Kylian He was like a natural heater when it was cold outside. Missing the manner in which his body felt against yours as he had been abroad for international duty. The fragrance of vanilla from your shower perfumed the room and the chimney brought warmth and the sensitive breaking of consuming wood. So there you were with a leg thrown over his hip and your head on his chest while his arm folded over your midsection. Bringing a soft hand you ran your fingers down his broad chest, soaking in his presence.

"Bébé” baby he said lowly. You didn't reply however rather kissed his lips. Kylian pushed hair from your face as you kissed along his smooth skin. Kylian brought his hands over to your butt and pulled you up to kiss better while kneading the tissue. As you slung your leg over his hips, your tongues intertwined. “Missed me huh?” Kylian teased in a soft voice as you snacked along his ears and your hands meandered down his body. You nipped at the muscle in his neck sure to leave a mark. “Missed you so badly” you responded.

You pulled your shirt off your head and Kylian twisted down to kiss between your shoulder bones. You could feel his hardness press against your butt as he groveled your neck prior to tracking down your lips. Pushing your silky pants down your butt and thighs. One hand arrived at down to knead your ass while the other established close to your head, confining you in.

Kylain scoured his now uncovered cock against your butt before running his hand up between your legs to play with your pussy. He grabbed your hip with one hand and pulled your ass up a little. Kylian shifted his elbow and his arm moved under your upper chest to nearly embrace you with his one arm as his other fingered you. You let out soft moans while driving your ass into his hand. "Kylian” you relaxed. “I need more.”

He gestured against your skin prior to moving to supplant his fingers with his member. Kylian held your hip while pushing in. You panted and rested your head up against his arm embracing you. Kylian began a soft yet agonizing speed, pulling moans from you with the drag of his cock. You pushed your hips back to meet his thrusts, encouraging his movements. You were becoming restless and cried while putting in to push back more effort to get more contact.

“Faster please” you managed to breathe out, panting heavily. Kylian immediately pushed with greater force and depth than before. You inhaled harshly as he drilled into you. The sound of skin on skin and raspy moans occupied the room. You brought a hand to cup his head as Kylian kissed and nipped at your neck. He was just about falling apart at the manner in which he embraced you and squeezed against you.

“Don’t stop, so good” you whimpered, snatching his arm as you felt yourself drawing near. You pressed your lips to his forearm before cumming around his cock as you heard yourself moan much louder than you intended. You bit at his skin to hold back from shouting out. Kylian pierced your high with a rough thrust. Before finishing on your ass, he jerked himself a few times as you felt the warm liquid coat you.

You laughed softly, turning around to be face to face with him. “I missed you baby” you spoke, leaving hazily kisses upon his toned chest. “I can tell” he said , earning a playful groan from you as you let your hand connect with his chest. Shifting your body to be over his Kylian mirrored your actions with a smile. Bringing your body down to connect your lips once again, smiling into the deep kiss.

[nymrs]

#2. MISBEHAVE | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: above

Genre: smut (oral, male receiving)

Pairings: Kylian Mbappé x female reader

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

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

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

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

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

[emwritesfootball]

Formalwear | Kylian Mbappé

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

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

- - -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit down and I’ll show you.”

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

[pedrifsx]

you think i hate you?

pair< kylian mbappé x belle aurélie (oc)

summary< kylian and y/n who are roommates always argue about the most silliest things. this one time, belle brought up the topic of respecting her privacy when other girls that kylian bring home are over.

warning< enemies -> lovers, playboy!kylian, smut eventually, petnames, confession, argument then smut, roommate!kylian x roommate!reader.

“kylian! you’re not hearing what i’m saying,” belle shouted at the 24-year-old, “are you fucking deaf?” her eyebrows furrowed with her arms co-ordinating with her words. she was furious with kylian as he was good for the past month with bringing other girls home until this week and, boy, was she sick of it.

“zut alors, belle,” he responded in annoyance, the frenchman was tired of belle and of her telling him what to do whether it was to do the dishes because it was ‘his turn’ to the girls he brings to their apartment to respect her privacy, “you can’t tell me what to fucking do!”

“at this point i have a right to. you’re always going into my room to fuck another girl when you’re too lazy to walk down the hallway to yours!” she argued back, lifting her glasses onto her head to take a good look at the pathetic man standing infront of her.

“it’s not my fault that you signed a lease here!” he shouted at her getting up from the couch he was slouching on to the kitchen island that belle was sitting next to.

“well it’s not my fault you agreed for me to leave here!” belle accused him for his doings and how he could’ve avoided this relationship with belle if he didn’t agree for her to live in their penthouse, “use your brain for once, you fucking idiot!”

kylian’s mouth dropped when she told him to ‘use his brain’. “no wonder you don’t last in relationships, you’re so hardheaded.”

annoyed and confused why he would say that, she opened up her laptop and logged in, putting her glasses back on, “forget it, kylian. just- just respect my privacy. please?”

kylian rolled his eyes then sneakily smirked knowing that belle just gave up like that. it made his ego grow knowing that he had won another argument, which to everyone else, just made him look more cocky than people think he is.

after working for a little bit, belle decided that it was a good idea to go to sleep since the day was long and tiring. and, it was nearing 1am. kylian was already in bed as he had training at 10am until 12pm.

without thinking, the girl grabbed the door knob and twisted it open, surprised when the end of the bed hit the side of her waist.

“merde,” she winced, rubbing the pain from her waist. the moonlight was her only source of light and she couldn’t see the bed. to her surprise, the bed wasn’t made. she thought, surely i made it when i woke up, but ignored it as she was fucking wasted.

she slid into the covers of the sheet and sighed of relief when the warmth hit her body. she backed up to get comfortable and felt a firm hand slide to her waist.

belle gasped at the sudden action, squirming and cussing when she felt the familiar hand of her roommate.

“kylian, what the fuck?” she whisper-shouted, feeling a sensation that she had never felt before.

“more like, belle, what the fuck?” he responded, chuckling at the confused lady, “what are you doing in my room?”

belle’s face softened when she turned on the light and realised that she was, in fact, not in her room, but in kylian’s.

“oh, shit,” she mumbled, flustered and hoisting herself up, “i’ll go.” kylian stopped her by grabbing her hand and pulling her back down.

“stay,” he groaned, “you caused a problem.” his eyes directed at his erection that belle created while her body rummaged to get comfortable.

it was too late at night for her to make right decisions as she held onto his neck and kissed his soft lips.

“fuck, you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for you to do that,” kylian murmured after breaking the kiss.

“shut up and kiss me,” she whimpered, grinding against his erection. there tongues fondled with eachother before kylian’s large hands wondered up belle’s large t-shirt that seemed to be his. he realised that she wasn’t wearing a bra and with one swift movement, removed the shirt from her body leaving her in her shorts.

kylian didn’t hesitate to go down her neck and leave marks like he always did with other women. but this time it was special, she could see that he wasn’t hesitant on doing this like he does with other women.

his hands soon reached her boobs, grasping onto it and his fingers rubbed over her nipples, making her whimpers underneath his touch.

kylian detached his dominant hand from her body and reached down to take off his boxers. he revealed his huge length which made belle shocked as she thought it was tiny from his cockiness.

“you’re huge,” she mumbled, pushing him down, telling him that she wanted to suck him off.

“be patient, bébé,” belle squirming when she heard the name. she spat on his dick before taking his tip into her mouth, circling her tongue around it, making him shut his eyes and lean his head back.

belle kept her eyes open and looked up at him with her big, manipulative doe eyes. she went to the base of his dick, making her gag on his thick manhood.

kylian’s hands managed to grab her hair into a makeshift ponytail before guiding her into bobbing her head up and down his length.

“you can take it,” he whimpered, “you’re a good girl.”

his sexual words made her go rapid and sucked his dick faster than before.

“shit,” kylian whimpered, “gonna cum.” his hands bobbed her head, fast and violent, the couple waiting for kylian to come into her mouth.

and alas, his white liquid painted her throat, her swallowing right after. she took it out of her mouth making a small “pop” noise when she got up.

her body weight shifted on kylian as she straddled his lap. without thinking, she ground her hips against the man practically riding his thigh.

“shit,” she mumbled as her nose picked up the familiar scent of the man. it was musky and homely as she recognised it, this time making her want to cum.

“ride me, belle,” he groaned, his hands grabbing onto her neck, making eye contact as he spoke his words.

the half french half colombian lady thrusted her hips up, rubbing kylian’s tip into her entrance and slowly, went down on him.

he tried different ways on pleasing her that night, one being him with his hands placed on her juicy ass, pulling it forwards to make her grind her hips while he was inside her.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he growled in a low tone, his voice rough from his drowsiness, “gonna make me cum.”

“cum for me, ky,” she moaned, rubbing her clit that was puffy and yearning for more.

kylian had his second shot, this time up belle’s pussy. it wasn’t surprising that belle fell on top of him after he collapsed.

it was a moment of pure silence, just fast pants and breaths.

“so?” kylian sounded out, “what are we now?”

“fuck it,” belle sighed, “will you be my boyfriend, ky?”

“fuck yeah!”

liked by k.mbappe, leomessi and 1,279,454 others.

brelie mbappé? more like mmm papi

k.mbappe you thought i hated you about 4 months ago🧐🙄

> brelie u don’t now do u

neymarjr bro was in love with you the whole time. simp.

> brelie @/brunabiancardi

brunabiancardi soft launch is on top🥺🥺

> brelie love you sm

[insidekatmind]

In His Time of Need~Jude Bellingham

Wearning: +18,smut, english is not my first language.

The door slams shut as Jude walks in, his face tight and his gaze clouded with anger and disappointment. He’s just lost an important game, and the weight of the defeat is written all over his tense posture and clenched jaw. You can feel your heart tighten as you watch him, knowing this isn’t just any loss for him.

“Jude,” you say gently, moving towards him. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, continuing to pace around the room, his movements aggressive as he tries to contain his frustration. Your concern grows and you move closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “Jude, let’s talk about it? I want to help you.”

He stops abruptly, his breath uneven and his hands clenched into fists. “It’s not fair,” he mutters, his voice breaking with anger and hurt. “I gave it everything, and it still wasn’t enough.”

You walk over to him, taking his hands in yours and he looks at you, a mix of vulnerability and frustration in his eyes. “Jude, you gave it your all. Sometimes it doesn’t matter how hard you try, things just don’t go your way. But that doesn’t define you. You’re more than one lost game.”

Jude sinks down onto the couch, his face hidden in his hands as he struggles to contain his emotions. You sit beside him, your hand gently rubbing his back. “You’re more than this, Jude,” you say softly. “I know how much this game means to you, but it’s not everything. It doesn’t change how much I love you.”

“It’s easier said than done,” he replies, his voice trembling. “I put everything I had into it, and it’s still not enough.”

You sigh, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone,” you murmur, trying to comfort him. “Jude, you’re already enough. And I’m here for you, no matter what happens.”

Jude closes his eyes, resting his head against your chest. You feel his breath, slow and heavy, as he tries to calm himself. “I need you,” he says finally, his voice almost a whisper.

You hold him tighter, running your fingers through his hair as his head relaxes against your shoulder. “I’m here, love,” you whisper. “Always for you. No matter what happens outside these four walls.”

A long silence falls between you, broken only by the steady beat of Jude’s heart and your light breathing. Finally, Jude lifts his head, his eyes red-rimmed, and he gives you a small, shaky smile. “Thank you,” he says, as if he’s searching for the right words to express everything he’s feeling.

“No need for words,” you reply softly, continuing to stroke his hair. “I’m here, and I’m listening. Always.”

Jude nods, a gesture of silent gratitude that speaks louder than any words. He then stretches out, his face slightly more relaxed, and pulls you into a tight hug. “You’re right,” he says, “it doesn’t matter if it didn’t go the way I wanted today. Tomorrow is another day.”

“And I’ll be here for you,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head gently. “Always, no matter what happens.”

Jude closes his eyes, leaning into you even more. You know it will take time for him to fully recover from the disappointment, but you’re ready to support him every step of the way. The important thing is that you’re here for him, always, just as you promised.

You kept stroking his hair while he relaxed. Jude after he raise a little the head from your chest and you kissed and you immediately reciprocated.

You could feel all his love, his frustration and anger in that kiss.

While you were kissing he spreads your legs and strips off quickly doing the same thing with you entering with a blow inside of you making you moan.

He groans as he lowered his head on your neck nibbling it while pushing into you a slow but then with a speed that made you tremble.

"Jude" you moaned as Jude was pushing his dick inside of you in a crazy way.

You could feel your pussy being smashed by his cock as he penetrated you.

Jude moaning while he nibbled you and played with your tits.

"You’re taking it so well" Jude moans as he puts a hand around your neck and starts banging his cock inside of you faster making you moan loudly.

You could see in his eyes his anger and lust and that made you more excited.

"Jude don’t hold back use me as a relief valve" you said moaning and his eyes darken more by making you turn belly down while he slapped your ass and fucked you mercilessly making you moan and bow at him.

Jude took a handful of your hair and then fucked you senselessly.

"’so beautiful" you said moaning as you felt your pussy clenching around his cock making him grunting.

"Fucking tight," said Jude as you came around his dick.

He didn’t slow down when you came, but instead continued to beat his cock inside of you at a superhuman speed and then cum inside of you.

You both groaned as he relaxed and breathed as he pulled himself out.

You watched him softly as he kissed you with love and thanked you." I don’t know how I would do without you"

[rmadridcore]

Beyond the Line

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Reader

Summary: You and Kylian enter a friends with benefits arrangement, but as the connection deepens, you struggle to keep your emotions in check.

Word Count: 7.4K

Warning: Smut! (Minors DNI)

Author’s Note: I’ve had this idea for a while and intended to make it a two part series but I couldn’t stop writing when I started lol 😭 so she’s a long one. Hope you enjoy it, lmk what you think 🤍

There’s a strange kind of pleasure in a bit of toxicity. To a point, at least. It doesn’t always make sense, but sometimes, the undeniable physical chemistry makes sacrificing peace of mind worth it. The fire, the intense connection, can outweigh all the flaws in the relationship.

The way Kylian’s tongue traced your folds made all the buried, unresolved feelings seem worth it. He had his head nestled between your thighs, quite literally his favorite place to be, while your hands gripped his head as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His other hand cupped and massaged your breast with a mix of urgency and affection.

“Kylian, fuck!” you screamed, your toes curling as his tongue worked with relentless speed, flicking and teasing you in a way that made your mind blur with pleasure.

The sounds of his slurping filled the room, shameless and loud, but neither of you cared. His occasional moans vibrated through your body, reminding you that you were indeed still on a bed and not floating on some euphoric cloud. Not that you minded. This euphoria was exactly where you wanted to stay for as long as possible.

Throwing your head back, you let out a whiny moan as his tongue explored your most private parts, licking, teasing, and driving you wild. Wet, hot, and pink — just the way he loved it. His nose pressed roughly against your clit as his fingers curled inside you, reaching those spots that made your toes curl even tighter.

The sounds spilling from your lips were raw and unholy, but you couldn’t find an ounce of shame in yourself, and neither could he. In fact, he seemed to thrive on it. His hand moved down from your breast to part your throbbing folds, exposing your sensitive clit even more to his skilled, relentless tongue. You wanted to ask him if anyone had ever told him how magical his tongue was, but the words refused to form. Your mouth was far too busy letting out gasps and cries.

“Please,” you managed to mutter, your voice strained, your eyes rolling back as the pleasure surged through you.

For Kylian, it wasn’t just the taste of you that drove him — it was the sounds you made. The way you screamed his name, whimpered in desperation, and begged for release drove him wild. He lived for it. He craved those sounds just as much as he craved the taste of you. Each moan and breathless gasp only pushed him to dive deeper, his tongue working more feverishly against you, wanting to make you shatter beneath him.

He curled his fingers inside you, pressing against that spot that made your entire body tremble. His tongue stayed focused on your swollen clit, flicking in perfect rhythm, and you could feel the familiar tension building, your body ready to unravel.

“I’m so close,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hold on just a little longer,” Kylian mumbled against you, the words muffled but clear, the vibrations from his voice only intensifying the pleasure. “I need you to hold on for me.” He wasn’t ready to let go yet. He wanted to savor every second of this, knowing it might be a while before he could taste you again.

“I can’t, Kylian… I need to cum,” you whimpered, your voice desperate, your body on the edge of release.

Finally, he relented, his voice soft yet commanding. “Let go, beautiful. Come for me.”

That was all it took. His words, combined with the pace of his fingers and tongue, sent you tumbling over the edge, and your body obeyed. Your back arched off the bed, his name tearing from your throat as your body shook with release. Your hands gripped the headboard, desperate for something to hold on to as he licked you through your orgasm, not missing a drop of your pleasure.

Gasping for air, you collapsed back onto the bed, your body feeling light and deliciously weak. Kylian, ever the greedy lover, drank in every last bit of your release like it was his favorite drink — because to him, it was.

You coughed lightly, your throat overworked from all the screaming and grunting. You hadn’t even noticed when Kylian laid next to you, his head propped on his hand as he admired your flushed, blissed-out face.

As you lay there, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment, you felt a mix of bliss and vulnerability wash over you.

Kylian shifted to rest his head on your chest, listening to the rapid beat of your heart. “Can you kiss me now?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence that enveloped you.

He lifted his head, a faint smile forming on his lips that made your stomach flutter. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes, half-amused and half-exasperated. “I just had the best orgasm of my life, and you’re worried about a kiss?” His laughter filled the room, warm and infectious.

“You make a fair point.” He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, and the kiss felt electric. The taste of you lingered, mingling with the sweetness of the moment. As the kiss deepened, you felt the world fade away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of intimacy.

Kylian pulled back slightly, searching your eyes. “You know, moments like these make all the chaos worthwhile,” he said softly. You nodded, a smile spreading across your face.

“Absolutely. But you do realize you’re lucky I’m still coherent enough to appreciate this moment, right?” Kylian chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll take my victories where I can get them.” There was a pause, and you could see a flicker of something serious in his eyes.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said, his voice sincere. “I’m really grateful for you.” The weight of his words settled in the space between you. You had grown so accustomed to the playfulness, the light teasing, that this sudden shift felt scary.

“Kylian,” you began, feeling a swell of emotions. “I—” Before you could finish your sentence, Kylian’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, interrupting the moment. You both sighed in unison, a knowing look passing between you.

“Always a distraction,” he muttered, reaching for his phone, but you could see the hint of annoyance in his eyes.

“It’s the team,” He said, you watching as he glanced at the screen.

“Duty calls, huh?” you said with a teasing smile, trying to keep the mood light.

“Unfortunately,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. “But don’t worry, I won’t let it take me away from you for long.” He leaned in and gave you another quick kiss before reluctantly sitting up and pulling away.

You watched as he answered the call, his demeanor shifting to the focused, determined athlete you knew he could be.

As he spoke on the phone, you leaned back against the pillows, observing him with a mixture of admiration and affection. The way he transformed from the playful lover to the focused athlete was mesmerizing. It was like watching a switch flip — he was all business now, his voice steady and professional.

He paused to glance back at you, and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought, as if he were trying to gauge your mood. You flashed him a playful smile to remind him you were still there, even if his mind was somewhere else entirely.

“I’ll be done in a minute,” he said, his tone lighter now, as if sensing your amusement.

You shrugged. “Take your time. I’ll just be here, contemplating my life choices.” He chuckled, clearly fighting off a grin.

“I don’t think you need to contemplate anything. You’re the one keeping me grounded.”

“Grounded?” you teased. “I thought I was just a pleasant distraction.”

“You are, but a necessary one,” he replied, winking before returning to his conversation.

When he finally hung up, he flopped back onto the bed beside you, the tension of the call still visible in his shoulders. “Well, that was refreshing,” he said sarcastically.

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Next time, try not to sound so enthusiastic.”

“It’s a tough life, okay?” he replied, a cheeky smile spreading across his face.

“You know,” you began, feeling a warmth spread through you as you spoke, “for someone who just dealt with a chaotic work call, you look remarkably unscathed.”

He laughed softly, glancing over at you with a playful smirk. “Well, I do have my charm to rely on.” You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding your smile.

“Charm? Is that what we’re calling it? More like a mix of sheer talent and good looks.”

“Don’t forget charisma,” he chimed in.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Oh, please. With that kind of self-promotion, you could start your own fan club.”

“You think I’m not already the president of my own fan club?” He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter.

“You’re my only member, and I’m the only one who attends the meetings.”

“Sounds like a party,” you teased, nudging him again.

As laughter faded into a comfortable silence, Kylian turned serious, his expression softening as he gazed at you.

“Stay tonight.” his voice broke the silence, the words hanging in the air between you like an unspoken promise. A warmth spread through your chest at his invitation. It was no secret that he wanted you to spend the night with him every time you two found yourselves tangled in each other's arms; he just didn’t say it outright all the time. But the way he hesitated, how he seemed to hold back from asking you to stay during those other moments, was painfully obvious.

“I have to pack,” you replied, feeling the disappointment settle in both your hearts.

You did spend the night at his place sometimes. Those cozy, late-night moments where everything felt perfect. But other times, you pulled away, creating space to keep things from becoming too routine. You were cautious, wary of the feelings that might arise if you blurred the lines completely. Tonight, you felt the urge to retreat, to maintain that sense of independence. But also, you really had to pack.

Kylian nodded, trying to mask his disappointment with a soft “Okay.” His tone was casual, but you could see right through him; he was the worst liar when it came to you.

You and Kylian had met a little over a year ago at a mutual friend’s birthday party. Both of you single, bold, and carefree, it felt like fate had tossed you together for one wild night of fun. That night had sparked a connection that neither of you expected, leading to a heated encounter that was meant to be a one-off. But universe, as it often does, had other plans.

You both bumped into each other again at an event weeks later, and just like that, you found yourselves leaving together, the chemistry undeniable. After that, you met up again — hooking up once more, and then again. It quickly became a whirlwind of intimate moments, and before you knew it, you were trapped in a confusing, exhilarating, and somewhat unhealthy situation.

Neither of you had been looking for anything serious. The idea of adding the complexities of a relationship, emotional entanglements and responsibilities, was daunting. A casual arrangement, marked by good sex whenever the mood struck, was enough for both of you.

You both understood how these things worked. Friends with benefits could turn into a mess of emotions if you weren’t careful. So, from the very start, you had made it a point to set rules. You were both adept at laying down those guidelines, but when it came to following them? That was another story entirely.

The first rule was simple: never spend the night at each other’s places. The routine was supposed to be straightforward: come over, fuck, leave. That worked for the first two months. But then came that one night at Kylian’s house, just after you’d finished with each other.

It was around 1 AM, and the weather decided to show its worst side with a downpour so fierce, it made the idea of driving home seem ridiculous.

“Stay here,” he insisted, not wanting you to risk the storm. You hesitated at first, knowing it was against the rules, but the thought of driving through that weather wasn’t appealing either. He even offered you the guest bedroom, or suggested he sleep there and let you take his bed, but somehow that felt even weirder than just sharing the bed. So, you stayed. That was the night you crossed the first line. After that, spending the night became more frequent. Kylian was always coming up with excuses for you to stay over.

“The wind is crazy tonight.”

“I heard on the radio that driving after 10 PM isn’t safe.”

“My bed is way more comfortable than yours.”

Some excuses were ridiculous, but sometimes, you caved. Other times, you resisted, determined not to let the sleepovers become routine.

The next rule? Never cancel plans for each other. You both agreed that altering your daily lives just to meet up would mean things were getting too serious. A casual fling didn’t need that kind of effort. But Kylian broke that rule after just two weeks, without you even knowing.

He canceled a dinner with friends, just because a single text from you asking if he was free to hang out was enough to make him ditch his plans. You found out the next time he did it, when he skipped playing paddle with his trainer because a night with you seemed more appealing. You were angry, angry that he broke the rule, but he shut you up with a kiss that made the argument melt away.

After one of your usual, passionate sessions, you told him how canceling plans for each other wasn’t good for what you had. He promised he wouldn’t do it again. And, unsurprisingly, he didn’t keep that promise. To be fair, you didn’t either. You found yourself rescheduling a meeting for work, or canceling a shopping day with friends just to be with him. You both bent the rule when it suited you.

Then there was the no-gifts rule. It seemed harmless enough. No exchanging gifts. Too personal, too intimate. But that rule was thrown out the window on your birthday. Kylian surprised you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a stunning necklace. You wanted to be mad, to call him out for breaking the rule, but how could you? He made you so happy, and the thoughtfulness behind his gift warmed your heart more than you cared to admit. So, instead of scolding him, you simply said, “Thank you,” and asked him not to do it again.

But then you broke that rule too. When his birthday came around, you couldn’t resist getting him something. You reasoned with yourself — it was just a birthday, an exception to the rule. But then, Kylian took it further. He came to your house one evening with a piece of artwork he’d purchased, saying, “It reminded me of you.”

That felt too much, too intimate. You argued, trying to convince him to take it back, but after a long discussion, you agreed to keep it — on the condition that he wouldn’t buy you anything like that again. He promised, but deep down, you both knew promises in this arrangement were flimsy at best.

But the most important rule, the one that should have been unbreakable, was not to fall in love. It was the first thing you both made clear: no strings attached meant no feelings. If either of you started to develop emotions beyond the physical, whatever you had would end immediately.

It seemed obvious at the time, the easiest rule to follow. Yet, strangely, it was the one rule you both avoided talking about. You’d discussed all the others, broke them, and argued over them, but the rule about love? That was taboo. Neither of you brought it up. Not once. And that silence was starting to scare you. Because the reason you didn’t talk about it was becoming more obvious. And that realization was growing more terrifying by the day.

You both lay in bed, the silence heavy with the weight of the upcoming separation. Neither of you wanted to move, wishing you could freeze time and stay in that warm, tangled cocoon of sheets. But reality beckoned. You had to leave; your business trip was looming, and tonight was your way of saying a temporary goodbye before you inevitably found yourselves back in the same bed the moment you returned.

Reluctantly, you got up, ignoring the loud, deep sigh that escaped Kylian’s lips. He didn’t say anything, but his frustration was palpable. You gathered your things, slipping into your clothes while he remained on the bed, motionless, watching you with a silent longing.

“You still don’t know when you’ll be back?” he asked, his voice breaking the silence as you put on your shoes.

You shrugged, not meeting his gaze. “I’m not sure. I’ll be back once all the new projects are presented to the partners. Could be a week. Maybe two.”

“Or more,” he added, his tone flat, eyes cast down. He wasn’t looking at you, but the unspoken tension between you was clear.

You sighed, trying to keep your voice light but failing. “I don’t know, Kylian. I’d rather stay too, but it’s work. I have to go. It’s not like I have a choice.” You walked over to the bed, standing beside him.

Kylian understood more than most about having a demanding schedule. He knew that you had to leave, that your career required it. But that didn’t make it any easier. It still bothered him — this unknown stretch of time without seeing you. The part that stung the most? He wasn’t allowed to be upset. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He wasn’t even your friend. He was just the guy you were sleeping with. You didn’t owe him anything. No explanations, no reassurances, no promises. And that bitter realization twisted in his chest, an uncomfortable weight he had to carry in silence.

“I’ll be very busy in the coming days, so…” You trailed off, the familiar excuse slipping from your lips, and Kylian knew exactly what was happening. You always did this when one of you had to travel — distancing yourself, cutting down on communication. He never fully understood why. But, as always, he went along with it, knowing he didn’t have the right to object.

“Sure. Busy,” he replied, his voice flat, resigned. You nodded, a silent understanding passing between you, both knowing there was nothing more to say.

“Thanks for tonight. You always give me the best goodbye gifts,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. You leaned down, giving him a quick peck on the lips before turning away.

Kylian watched you leave, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you echoing in his mind. You never looked back. You never did.

For the past year, he had felt an undeniable, deep connection with you. Something special, something he couldn’t quite put into words. And with every passing moment, that connection only grew stronger, wrapping around him like invisible chains, pulling him deeper into feelings he had promised himself he’d never have.

Kylian knew it was wrong. He knew he wasn’t supposed to feel like this, wasn’t supposed to let his emotions blur the lines of your arrangement. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t bring himself to walk away, even though he knew that’s what he should do.

The truth was, he liked spending time with you — far more than he liked spending time with anyone else. With you, he could be himself, completely. He didn’t have to put on the mask he wore for the world. He could be his silly, carefree self, making jokes and laughing without worrying about expectations. You listened to him, truly listened. You were compassionate, attentive, and never judged him. You offered him a kind of support that he hadn’t realized he needed until it was too late. He liked you. More than he should. And that terrified him.

It didn’t take long for Kylian to realize that his feelings for you went far beyond casual. When he first started sleeping with you, his intentions were simple: have fun, let off some steam, enjoy the company of someone as lovely and attractive as you. But the more he got to know you as a person, the more he craved your presence. It wasn’t just about the sex anymore, even though the sex was incredible. Mind-blowing, even. But sometimes, all he wanted was to sit with you, have a conversation, and just… be. He liked being around you. And that was the problem.

He wasn’t supposed to want more than just physical connection. You weren’t meant to be his confidante, his comfort, his… something more. But the rules were clear. He wasn’t allowed to spend time with you unless one of you was horny. So, he made sure to milk every moment he could, stretching out the time you spent together. He clung to the small, fleeting moments between, lingering in bed just a little longer, turning every touch, every laugh into something he could carry with him when you weren’t around.

And every time you left, he felt the weight of what he wasn’t allowed to have settle deeper in his chest.

The day had been impossibly long, overwhelming, and exhausting. Your flight was a nightmare — an older man seated behind you had snored the entire time, depriving you of any chance to rest. Once you landed, there was no time to recover; you had to change quickly and head straight to a series of meetings. With the barely-there sleep you had gotten the night before, combined with the stress of work, the day felt like one continuous obstacle.

The meeting dragged on for almost three hours, filled with repetitive questions that forced you to repeat yourself over and over. By the time it was over, all you wanted was to collapse into bed. But then your colleague asked for help with some documents, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You felt bad, knowing no one else could assist her. So, despite your exhaustion, you pushed through.

Finally, after what felt like an endless day, you made it to your hotel room. The idea of slipping into a warm, bubbly bath was the only thing keeping you from falling apart. Once you submerged yourself in the soothing water, the tension in your muscles slowly began to fade. The pounding headache that had followed you throughout the day finally started to dissipate.

It was in moments like this, quiet, peaceful moments, when you craved Kylian’s presence the most. He had a way of making everything better, almost like a superpower. From the moment you met him, there had been something magnetic about his charisma. One night stands weren’t usually your thing, but fresh off a breakup and in high spirits at that party, you found yourself unable to resist his charm and that disarming, handsome smile.

At first, it was just sex. Fun, uncomplicated, no strings attached. But as the weeks went by, you discovered there was so much more to Kylian than just his natural charisma or his beautiful face. As he got comfortable with you, he began to show his true self — funny, silly, adorable, loud, but in all the best ways. He was someone you wanted to be around all the time. He loved making people laugh, especially you, and his energy was infectious. For all his fame and allure, Kylian was surprisingly simple and humble. A young man with a great sense of humor and an even bigger heart.

Being around him felt effortless. Too effortless. And that was where the danger lay. You liked him more than you should. You liked him more than you were willing to admit, even to yourself. He was far more than a fling to you. You couldn’t help but think about him in moments like this, alone in a quiet hotel room, wishing you were resting on his firm chest, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your forearm like he always did. But those were thoughts you would never dare to share with him.

The fear of commitment was tricky. It often masked itself as self-preservation, convincing you that it was the rational thing to do, the safest option to avoid heartache. But deep down, you knew it was an insecurity, a fear that you would drive Kylian away if you got too close.

Rationally, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, at least not intentionally. But the thought of falling for him, of starting an official relationship, only for him to realize it was a mistake, that he didn’t have time for you, or worse, that he couldn’t love you enough, was terrifying.

So, you did what you thought was necessary. You distanced yourself. You limited the time you spent with him, avoiding the temptation to stay over at his house too often. You tried not to contact him when either of you were away. You set boundaries for yourself, hoping they would protect you from falling deeper into the trap.

But leaving him? That was something you couldn’t do. No matter how unhealthy the situation became, no matter how much it hurt to be stuck in this emotional limbo, you couldn’t bear the thought of Kylian not being a part of your life. So, you settled for what you had. You convinced yourself it was enough, even though deep down, it wasn’t.

And that made you angry. Furious, even. How had you let this happen? What had started as a simple arrangement, had spiraled into something messy, confusing, and undefined. You didn’t even know what to call this… relationship. If you could even call it that.

But more than anything, you were mad at yourself. For wanting more. For feeling something you promised yourself you’d never feel.

The next few days passed in a blur of normalcy, albeit overwhelmed by work. Every time the pressure mounted, stress levels shooting through the roof, it became increasingly tempting to pick up the phone and call Kylian. Not for the usual reasons, where one of you would call the other when traveling to satisfy more physical needs, but simply to hear his voice. To rant about your day, to complain, to let it all out. To have Kylian on the other end, soothing you, telling you that everything would be okay.

The temptation grew harder to resist, but you held out. You had to. This was the boundary you had set for yourself, the one thing that kept you in control.

Until you couldn’t anymore.

It was a Thursday — possibly the worst Thursday in the history of Thursdays. The day began disastrously when you somehow managed to turn off your alarm in your sleep, making you thirty minutes late for your breakfast meeting. And, of course, there was no time to actually have breakfast once you arrived, forcing you to move straight into business on an empty stomach.

You told yourself you’d wait for lunch to eat, but lunch never came. The meeting that was supposed to happen the next day was moved to today, meaning no time for food once again.

Then came the race back to the office, where you had to prepare for a presentation on your latest project. Things seemed to calm down for a moment, just long enough for you to breathe, until someone in the foyer spilled a piping hot cup of coffee all over you. The scalding liquid nearly burned your collarbone and left an awful stain on your white shirt.

With no change of clothes and the presentation about to begin, you had no choice but to stand in front of everyone in a half-white, half-brown shirt, your stomach growling, your mind frazzled, and your nerves hanging by a thread. The awkward stares from your audience only made things worse, and by the end of the day, you felt utterly defeated.

By the time you returned to your hotel room, you had finally eaten something, but the headache and stress still vibrated through every inch of your body.

It was all too much. You needed to let it all out.

No matter how risky or wrong it felt, you needed to call Kylian.

With shaky hands, you dialed his number, one you had memorized long ago from how many times you typed it, only to delete it before pressing "call." This time, though, you pressed it.

Your heart raced as the phone rang, your breath catching in your throat. You had spoken to Kylian over the phone countless times, but this felt different. This time, you weren’t calling for a casual chat or for some playful teasing. You were calling because you needed him. You needed to hear his voice.

And that terrified you.

You stared at the phone screen as it rang, trying to come up with a good excuse for why you were calling him. The line connected, and before you could figure out what to say, Kylian picked up.

“Hello?” His voice was groggy, thick with sleep, sounding both confused and concerned. You realized immediately that you had woken him up.

“I’m sorry, Kylian. Were you sleeping?” You glanced at the clock and cringed. It was 2 AM where he was. How had you not noticed that before?

“It’s fine. Really.” His voice softened, brushing away the inconvenience. “Are you okay?” There was a trace of worry now, like he could sense something was off.

You hesitated, feeling guilty for disturbing him. “Wait… how did my call even go through? Don’t you usually put your phone on Do Not Disturb when you sleep?” You remembered him telling you that the first night you stayed over at his place — he always put his phone on DND to ensure his body got the rest it needed.

There was a brief silence on the other end before he spoke. “I have a few contacts that still get through. My parents, my brother, my team, and… well, you. Just in case.” Your breath caught in your throat at his admission.

You wanted to ask why, to dig into why he thought of you as someone important enough to bypass his Do Not Disturb settings. But this wasn’t the time. The conversation was already teetering on the edge of being too vulnerable.

Kylian broke the silence again, his tone laced with concern. “Are you going to answer me? Are you okay?” You blinked, unsure of how to respond.

You had wanted to rant about your day, but now, waking him up like this made you feel selfish.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t call you back tomorrow? You need your sleep. Don’t you have training tomorrow?” You meant it, genuinely feeling guilty for disturbing him.

“Y/N,” he said firmly, but gently. “I don’t care about that. I care about you. Are you okay or not?”

His words hit you like a wave, and suddenly, you were fighting back tears. The tenderness in his voice, the way he prioritized you over his own needs, it tugged at something deep inside you. He was always like this, but hearing it now, in the middle of the night, made you want to cry. It also made you love him more.

No, you weren’t okay. You missed him. You wanted him with you. But you couldn’t say that. So, instead, you started telling him about your day, pouring out all the stress and frustration that had built up since the moment you’d landed.

You told him everything — about how overwhelming the trip had been, how tired you were, how bad today had gone. You described every detail of your nightmare of a Thursday, feeling a mixture of relief and exhaustion as you talked.

Through it all, Kylian listened patiently. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t rush you. He just hummed softly in response, encouraging you to keep going, making you feel heard in a way no one else could.

When you finally finished, you let out a deep breath, feeling lighter. Somehow, just telling him about your day made everything feel a little less terrible.

“I’m so proud of you,” Kylian said quietly, his voice sincere and full of admiration. The way he said it made your chest tighten with emotion.

“You’re handling so much, and you’re doing it with so much strength. I don’t know how you do it, Y/N.” His words brought tears to your eyes again, and for a moment, it felt like he was right there with you, whispering those words in your ear instead of through a phone.

You wiped at your eyes, overwhelmed by the genuine affection in his voice.

Without thinking, you let the words slip out. “I miss you, Kylian.”

There it was. Raw and unfiltered.

You hadn’t meant to say it, but now that you had, there was no taking it back.

Normally, you would have regretted being so vulnerable with him, afraid it would shift things between you. But this time, there was no regret. Just truth. Kylian’s voice softened even more, dripping with affection.

“Y/N, I miss you too, so much. I can’t wait for you to come back.” His confession hung in the air between you, adding an extra weight to the conversation. But despite the heaviness, his words brought a smile to your face, the kind of smile only he could bring out of you.

“Thank you for listening to my rant. And I’m sorry for waking you up,” you apologized, feeling guilty once more for disrupting his night.

“Don’t apologize. I’d rather talk to you than sleep. You know you can call me anytime.” His words made your heart swell, but the exhaustion from the day was catching up with you now.

“I think it’s time for me to get some sleep,” you said, stifling a yawn.

“Sweet dreams, beautiful,” he replied, the smile in his voice unmistakable.

“Goodnight,” you whispered before hanging up, sinking back onto the mattress.

As you lay there, you felt lighter, like the world had been lifted off your shoulders just from talking to him. But as the quiet settled in, a different kind of pressure began to creep in. What did that conversation mean for the two of you? Was it normal to call your fuck buddy in the middle of the night from another country, just to rant about your day? And for him to be so sweet, so gentle, so… perfect about it?

Probably not. And that scared you.

But despite the fear, one thing was clear — you didn’t regret it. Not even for a second.

Kylian knew when you were coming back. You’d texted him the day before your flight, and from the moment he read that message, he was over the moon. The two weeks without you had been anything but fun. In fact, every time you left, it felt like you took a piece of sunshine with you. To him, you were that — his sunshine. Someone who could brighten even the darkest days. And now, his sunshine was finally coming back.

A few hours after you landed, he sent you a text inviting you over for dinner at his place if you weren’t too tired. You hesitated at first, mostly because he told you it would be a normal, simple dinner — no sexual innuendo. That was the scariest part. He wasn’t just inviting you over for a casual night; this felt different. He was asking you on a date. Your first real date with Kylian.

You sat with your phone for a long moment, unsure. This wasn’t part of the arrangement, wasn’t part of the rules you’d set up for yourselves. But something deep inside you told you not to let fear ruin this moment. So, after a while, you agreed.

When you arrived, he opened the door with a tablecloth casually thrown over his left shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you cooked?” you said after hugging him, eyes wide with disbelief.

He let out a laugh, flashing you that charming grin. “Well, I tried.” There was a mix of pride and nervousness in his voice, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether to brag or apologize.

He led you into the dining room, where the table was set for two. The fork and knife were oddly placed, and you quickly realized he had been the one to set the table.

With a chuckle, you switched the positions of the knife and fork. “You know not everyone’s left-handed, right?” you teased as he walked back in with the meal.

He blinked, then giggled, scratching the back of his head. “Oh, right. Sorry about that.”

You both sat down, the dish looking delicious, but there was a part of you that was still unsure. Kylian noticed you eyeing the plate cautiously.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, frowning when he saw you weren’t making a move to eat.

You bit your lip, feeling guilty for what you were about to say. “Um… Kylian, I really appreciate that you cooked, but… are you sure this won’t give me food poisoning?” You winced, giving him a sheepish look.

He gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “How dare you! Are you saying I’m not a good cook?” He pretended to be offended, his wide eyes full of playful shock.

You couldn’t hold back a laugh, shaking your head.

Kylian chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I didn’t cook it.” He grinned sheepishly as you raised a brow in confusion.

“Wait, what?”

“I set the table and everything,” he admitted, “but I didn’t want to be the one responsible for poisoning you, so… I had it delivered.”

You let out a sigh of relief, giggling. Kylian was talented in many things, but you knew that the kitchen was definitely not one of them.

As you both started eating, Kylian filled you in on what he’d been up to while you were away, already knowing the details of your trip from that strange, middle of the night phone call a few days ago. He was animated as he spoke, catching you up on football news, funny moments with his teammates, and little updates from his life.

But even as you laughed and bantered back and forth, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this dinner was different. It wasn’t just two friends with benefits catching up. It was more. And that realization, while thrilling, also scared you.

“Y/N, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Kylian said suddenly, his voice tinged with an uncharacteristic nervousness. He was playing with the tablecloth, twisting it between his fingers as if trying to distract himself.

The wine you’d been sipping suddenly tasted dull. His words made you feel uneasy, and a knot of tension began forming in your stomach.

He pushed his chair back and moved closer, sitting right next to you. The shift in proximity sent a shiver down your spine. The distance that had been between you while you sat across from each other had felt safe. But now, with his body so close, the air between you felt charged, intimate. No matter how many times you had been physical with Kylian, these moments, the ones that went beyond the physical, always left you feeling raw and vulnerable.

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he began, his voice softer now, more emotional. “Especially after our phone call the other night.”

Your pulse quickened. That call had crossed a line — one you had been careful not to approach for so long. But strangely, you hadn’t regretted it.

“Y/N, being around you…” He paused, his eyes searching yours. “It just feels right. You make everything feel… right. And I know you feel the same.”

He wasn’t wrong. Being with Kylian felt natural, like you both just fit. There was an ease, a connection that made sense, even if you’d spent so much time trying to ignore it. You knew it, and he knew it too. The problem wasn’t the way you felt about him — it was the fear of letting those feelings lead you somewhere you couldn’t control.

“We’re not the best at communicating, at least not with words,” he continued, his fingers gently twisting a lock of your hair around them. “We’ve both bottled up so much, avoided saying things we should’ve said. But there are some things that don’t need words. Some things you just feel.”

His point was valid, but that didn’t make it any less nerve-wracking.

“I can feel how much you love being with me. It’s not just about the physical connection. There’s something more between us, and pretending like it isn’t there… it’s been stupid. For both of us.” He exhaled deeply, his voice a little steadier now.

“I want to be with you, Y/N. And not just for sex. Don’t get me wrong, the chemistry we have is… incredible. But this? Us? It’s so much more than that.”

Your chest tightened, and you let out a quiet sigh, unsure how to respond. You’d spent so long keeping your feelings at bay, locking them away in a corner of your heart where they couldn’t hurt you. But now, Kylian was bringing them into the light, forcing you to confront everything you had tried so hard to avoid.

“I know you’re scared,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, his eyes holding yours.

That was the sentence that made you look at him, really look at him. You saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the reflection of your own fears mirrored back at you.

“I know you’re holding yourself back. And you’re right. If we do this for real, it could go wrong. It could get messy, complicated. We might end up in a situation that neither of us can fix.” He was saying everything you’d been afraid to admit, everything you had kept hidden.

“But none of those fears outweigh the fact that I want to call you my girlfriend.”

There it was. The label. The thing that terrified you more than anything else.

Labels were strict, limiting, confining. They carried expectations, and expectations could lead to disappointment. Yet somehow, when Kylian said it, when he looked at you with such sincerity, the idea of being in a committed relationship seemed a little less terrifying.

He wasn’t finished. “I want more with you. I want you to stay over without me having to come up with stupid excuses. I want to buy you gifts just to see you smile. I want to cancel plans because I’d rather be with you than with anyone else. I want to plan my life knowing you’ll be a part of it.” His voice was filled with emotion, raw and honest. “And I want to love you. Not just for your body, but for everything that makes you, you.”

His confession hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything it carried. It was a tough moment for you. Every fear, every doubt you had wrestled with for so long was still there, whispering in the back of your mind. But somehow, Kylian made it all seem… easier. His words didn’t make the fears disappear, but they offered a sense of hope you hadn’t expected.

You reached up, cupping his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palm. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly, as if savoring the connection.

“You’re right,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. “I am scared. I’ve been terrified this whole time. But… if there’s anyone I want to face my fears with, it’s you.”

Your words brought a huge smile to his face, a smile so genuine it made your heart swell.

He took your hand in his, lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles before pulling you into his chest. You rested your head against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

His heartbeat was fast, matching the rhythm of your own. The irony wasn’t lost on you — you, the one who had insisted on following all the rules, were the one who had broken the most important one. And so had he. You were both rule-breakers now.

But for the first time in a long time, you didn’t care.

[haartemis]

THE ALCHEMY

pairing: kylian mbappe x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: swearing, mentions of mental illness

summary: working at real madrid is a dream come true— until kylian mbappe, football's biggest star and the last person you ever want to see, joins the club. as tensions rise between you two and the lines between frustration and fascination blur, you wonder: can you truly resist the man you've sworn to hate?

A/N: based on this request. i know club employee x player is a bit overdone but i had so much fun writing this! let me know if it's worth continuing. pls also share any other thoughts you have in my inbox or in the comments, i love hearing from you guys <3

“it’s almost time!” your boss whisper-yells as he runs into the break room, the sudden interruption jolting you so much you spill coffee from the mug you were holding onto your pristine white shirt. “quick, everyone get ready!”

you set down your mug carefully, looking down at your ruined shirt with a sigh. it was bad enough you had to come in early today for his presentation, but now your daily morning coffee ritual in the break room was ruined – all for real madrid’s newest galactico.

after doing his medical exams, touring the training facilities and meeting his new teammates, kylian mbappe apparently insisted that he see the club offices before his stadium presentation, ‘to meet the employees that he now calls family’. you’d snorted when you read the email announcing his visit, irritated at the fact that you’d have to play nice to the most arrogant, self - absorbed person to ever step foot in madrid.

you figured he’d make a quick stop on the first floor to see the social media team. that was the department the players engaged with the most, anyway.  no way he’d go all the way up to the fourth floor, where the finance department resided. yet, here you are, standing with the rest of the team, facing the door, waiting to be graced by the presence of the best player in the world.

naturally, he’s running late. 

“we have our weekly meeting in 15” you frown, looking at your phone. “what’s taking him so long?”

“forget the weekly meeting. we’ll reschedule” your boss, who loathes postponing anything, waves you off dismissively. he’s unusually smiley today, practically vibrating with excitement. he even has the new mbappe jersey in hand, no doubt to ask for an autograph. you’ve never seen a grown man fanboy this hard; it’s kind of pathetic if you think about it. 

your ears perk up at the sound of commotion outside the double doors, where you can see there’s a small crowd of people forming. the doors swing open a few moments later and in walks the talk of the town, flanked by a couple staff members, what looked like his personal assistant, a small camera crew, and a bodyguard. you can hear the collective intake of breath from the room as soon as he walks in.

“hello, everyone!” he walks to the center of the room, practiced smile plastered on his face. " how's everyone doing? i'm really happy to be here!"

the team immediately erupts into applause at his words. you reluctantly join, rolling your eyes.

he starts shaking hands and exchanging quick hellos as he makes his way further in the room. when he approaches your group, he stops in front of your boss. you can't help but notice how his beige polo shirt and white shorts make him stand out sharply from the dozens of people in the room dressed in bland office attire.

"we-welcome to real madrid!" your boss exclaims, stumbling over his words. you stare at the ground, fighting the urge to laugh.

“thanks, I’m excited to meet all of you,” kylian replies warmly, his gaze shifting to you for a brief moment. “and you are…?”

" y/n l/n, financial analyst" you say, putting on your best fake smile. "pleasure to meet you"

"pleasure is all mine" he murmurs, extending his hand towards you. you shake it, and his grip is surprisingly firm and warm. you maintain eye contact, searching for something in his face.

“sorry, I was wondering if you could sign this?” your boss interrupts, gesturing to his jersey.

"of course" kylian says. you overhear your co-workers gushing over him as he signs the jersey, declarations ranging from "he's more handsome in person" to "i can't believe he's actually here". he has a small smirk playing on his face as he listens, the jerk. of course what he needs is more fodder for his already inflated ego.

after handing your boss his jersey back, he turns back towards you , catching you off guard. “so, how long have you been with the club?”

"two years" you respond. "best workplace in the world, as i'm sure you're going to find out"

"oh, i already know'" he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "i've been obsessed with this club since i was a little kid"

"really?" you tilt your head skeptically. " you didn't give that impression the past 6 years or so"

silence.

his eyes narrow, and was that an irritated look crossing his face? your heart races when you realize you've struck a nerve. he looks at you– really looks at you for the first time. before, you were just one of many he was obliged to make small talk to for the cameras but now you're the annoying woman who dares to question him.

“it's been a long road, i admit” he says carefully. “but i’m here now, and i’m just really happy”

“the biggest signing bonus we’ve ever given – i'd be surprised if you weren't over the moon” you say drily.

he clears his throat, smile completely faltering for a moment. “money isn’t my motivation”

“sure it isn’t!” you chirp sarcastically.

"no, really. i have plently of that already" he smirks, his gaze lazily dropping down to your chest. "you have a stain on your shirt, by the way”

"can we- shall we all gather for a group photo?" your boss, who was watching the entire exchange with a horrified look on his face, waves everyone over. he shoots you a pained look as he ushers kylian into the center of the group, mouthing a 'what the fuck???' over his shoulder. you grimace as you stand off to the side, arms crossed.

kylian lingers for a little bit after the photos, chatting with eager people, which, let's be honest, is everyone else besides you. a few minutes later his assistant announces that he needs to be on his way to get ready for the stadium presentation, so he makes his rounds again, shaking everyone's hand and saying goodbye individually.

when he approaches you, his smile fades a little. it thrills you to know it takes him more effort to fake his niceties with you.

"it was nice meeting you..." he looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to finish the sentence.

you almost roll your eyes, of course he’s pretending not to remember your name.

“it’s y/n” your boss supplies when you stay silent. he’s grinning,  just glad to be of service to the great kylian mbappe.

“y/n, yes!” kylian’s eyebrows rise in feigned realization. He gives you an exaggerated apologetic shrug, then leans in close, whispering just for you, “sorry, y/n, it’s just that some names are…forgettable.”

"just like some nights are forgettable,” you whisper back “or at least you wish they were, just because they’re so fucking bad.”

he gives you a genuinely confused look, a question in his eyes.

“yeah, i’d block out the memory of lasting one minute too” you smirk. “ I still have your watch, by the way”

his eyes widen so much it’s almost comical. there’s an undeniable look of recognition on his face. oh, he remembers now.

he opens his mouth to say something, but he’s whisked away by his entourage. he's actually running late for his presentation now.

you shake your head as you watch him go. he's exactly as you remember him: all charm on the surface and arrogance underneath.

this is the story of how you come to despise kylian mbappe. it starts off six months before that fateful morning in madrid, in packed nightclub in paris. you're on a weeklong girls' trip, your first time in the city of love. you've done all of the activities on a tourist's checklist: gone sightseeing, had some of the amazing pastries, and of course, taken the mandatory instagram pictures.

on your last night, you and your friend decide to go to some of the most exclusive clubs in the city  – your friend, who does pr for the big fashion houses, has connections that get you past doors.

you're just coming out of a period of depression, something you’ve struggled with throughout your life. after several months of feeling like a grey cloud was hanging over you everywhere you went, you crave some excitement and spontaneity— basically something to remind you you're alive. and so you're a woman on a mission that night: to find a hot man and hook up with him. no strings attached.

it turns out, you don't have to look far. you're on the dance floor of the first club you visit, moving amongst the hot sweaty bodies when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

you turn to find a tall, burly man looking down at you.

“my friend wants to buy you a drink” he says without introduction, pointing up to the vip section where you honestly can’t see anything through a wall of bodyguards.

“okay” you say, smiling. “he can buy me a drink”

there’s an unspoken statement from his end. he wants you to come up

“how old is he?” you ask more out of curiosity than anything else. there’s no way you’re going with him. “and how tall?”

the bodyguard is obviously taken aback. “uh, he’s 25, and…6 feet?”

“6’2 and above only, sorry” you say, giggling as you walk away to your friends who are waiting at the bar.

before long, you find yourself on the dance floor again, pressed up against someone with your back to their front, swaying to the rhythm of the music. You don't even know what they look like, but their body feels strong, solid. when their fingers graze your hips, you flip around, curiosity getting the better of you.

to your credit, your face doesn’t give away the fact that you know this person. that you’re probably one of his biggest fans in the world. that you watch even the most boring of psg games just for him. or that you want him at your club so so badly. no, you’re smart enough to arrange your face into a facade of nonchalance.

the first thing you notice is the smell of dior sauvage, and then the pretty dimples he flashes you when he sees you’re facing him.

“your dimples are pretty” you shout over the loud music. oops. looks like you’re in the ‘speaking without a filter’ stage of being drunk.

“thanks” he says into your ear. “why did you say no to vip? i was hoping you’d come up”

realization hits. oh.

“you’re not 6 feet tall!” you shriek gleefully, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “your bodyguard lied”

"yeah, I'm 5'10" he’s got a look of amused confusion on his face. “not sure why that matters though”

“that’s kind of short for a guy” you say. “you chose the right sport”

he raises his eyebrows, perhaps surprised you recognize him. “let me buy you that drink. and maybe we can talk about something other than my height?”

and so it begins. you spend the next thirty minutes at the bar pretending you both don’t know where this is leading and what you both want. you talk about madrid, how your time in paris is going. you don’t mention your employer, and he doesn’t talk about his impending transfer. he’s surprisingly witty and observant, something you don’t expect from a celebrity, and certainly not a footballer. at one point in the conversation, his hand lands on your thigh and it doesn’t leave. you’re drowning in anticipation, in want.

finally, he suggests you take this somewhere else. somewhere quiet, where you can 'talk more'.

you say yes. soon you’ve said your goodbyes to your friends and you’re in his car, and you don’t even know where you’re going, because you've both dropped all pretenses and are making out in the backseat. he's great at kissing, and even better at making you forget your name as soon as he touches you.

you hesitate for a brief second when you see you’ve arrived at a hotel a few minutes later, but his hand is warm on yours, so you let him lead you inside. everything after this is a blur— you remember the short elevator ride, his room key flashing, his lips immediately finding yours again as soon as the door clicks shut.

inside the room, your kisses grow heated, but they’re sloppy and unfocused. his hands are everywhere, sliding all over your body frantically. you both stumble over to the bed hazily, clothes disappearing off your bodies in the process.

it’s fast. so fast that you don’t realize it’s began until it’s over. afterwards, he collapses against you in a breathless heap, and you can only stare at the ceiling, trying to fend off the crushing weight of disappointment.

you roll him off your body slowly, but he doesn’t protest because he’s already dozed off. the alcohol has dulled your thoughts and your senses, but you can’t shake the creeping sense of hurt. somehow, sleep takes over you as well.

you stir awake a few hours later. the other side of the bed is empty, but you can hear movement from the bathroom. you're rubbing your eyes, groggy, when something catches your attention —his phone, which sits on the bed side table, is unlocked and displaying a text conversation.

don't do it, you think, do NOT do it.

but your hand treacherously reaches out and grabs the phone. you find that it’s a group chat of him and his friends. you skim over the texts quickly, aware that he's just in the other room.

tchaga: Kylian where tf are you???

kylian: with that girl from the club

ous: bro we stopped by your place you weren’t there

kylian: you know I don’t take groupies to my place what if she’s like in love with me

ous: 😭😭

tchaga: was it worth ditching your friends

kylian: I don’t remember a lot tbh. sucks, because I had to pretend I wanted to talk to her for like 30 minutes before we got to the hotel🙄

kylian: think I’ll head out before she wakes up and it gets awkward haha

your stomach immediately starts to churn with a mixture of humiliation and hurt. you're not an idiot, you knew what you signing up for when you left that club with him. a fun, meaningless hookup was what you wanted. but you didn't think it would be this. you're nauseous with disgust— not just at him, but at yourself. he brought you to a hotel, took what he wanted, and now he's laughing about it with his boys. you feel cheap, like he used and discarded you.

the worst part is, you used to like the guy. you were a huge fan of him as a footballer, and maybe even harbored a little crush on him. now you don't even want to see his face ever again.

you put the phone down quickly when you hear the bathroom door creak open, closing your eyes and pretending to sleep. you can hear him as he quietly moves around while he gets dressed. seconds later, you hear the click of the door shutting behind him.

just like that, he's gone.

you're not far behind him, eager to leave the room and the night behind. as you're gathering your things, you spot his watch on the bedside table. in a flash of anger, you stuff it in your purse along with your belongings. you also see he’s left a note, but you throw that into the trash without reading it. then you're out the door.

so, that's the story of how you come to hate kylian mbappe: in one careless, thoughtless night, he crushed the fragile self esteem you managed to rebuild over the past couple months, leaving you feeling smaller than ever. like you're worthless.

and now he's living in the same city as you, playing for the same club you work for. he's got everyone wrapped around his finger, worshipping the ground he walks on. and you? you'll never not despise him, that's for sure. come hell or high water.

taglist: @kyliansonlygf @ynkfreeastheocean @scottishthistle @user6373738 @lucysantos6-blog @tuliptopiasstuff @kennasutopia @cinderellawithashoe @akiracim @kymb-10 @germanapples @loonworld @ajsboys

[swayziiwriter]

Victory's symphony | Kylian Mbappé

summary: the France football team captaincy had been awarded to your fiancé Kylian, prompting a night of private celebrations between you both.

WARNING: 18+, sexual content

NOTE: the French at the end of the song suits Kylian so well

Kylian had been awarded captaincy of France, a position that allowed him to represent his country and his passion for football. This promotion alls meant that Kylian deserved his own gift, specially for him. That’s how you’ve both ended up in this position.

Kylian laid under you, panting softly as your bare pussy continued to grind against his clothed cock, moonlight shining through the tall windows of the bedroom providing enough light for you both to see each other when in close proximity. You slid down his body, bringing you face to his covered hard on aching to be touched. “Please- please” Kylian let out a strangled breathe, pleasure pulsating through your body at his words.

Kylian always had you begging, tears streaming down your face before he’d let you release all over him. Tonight was different, tonight was about providing your own pleasure to Kylian.

Your hands reached his V-line, tracing it softly before bringing a hand inside of his boxers. He was rock hard, heavy and hot in your hand dabbles of precum sticking to your fingers. Bringing them out of his boxers to your mouth, sucking softy on the two fingers tasting Kylian on your tongue. Kylian let out a guttural moan, “putain, tu es si chaud” fuck, you are so hot he groaned dragging a hand to lock in your hair tugging on it softly.

“Suck me off, please” Kylian begged again, eyes pleading as his member remained hard. You nodded, bringing your hands to his boxers, pulling them down to free his cock that slapped against his abdomen. Standing tall and thick, aching for a release.

You leaned down, levelling your head with his cock before spitting on it. Bringing your hand to stroke his dick, Kylian’s breathing increased hyper fixative on the way your spit drippped down his cock until you held his member. “Oh, oh fuck that feels-feels so good” he moaned, his head falling back against the pillow as you jerked him off. It wasn’t until you left a kiss on Kylian’s red tip that he brought a hand to stop your motions.

“Don’t want that right now” he stated. You studied him “then what do you want baby? Anything you want, you’ll get” keeping eye contact you let your tongue run softly against his tip. “Putain” his head shook, “I want you to ride me.”

Oh fuck. Kylian was strong. He was big and well groomed, abs sculpted perfectly to his v-line that protected his huge cock. His skin was smooth and hot, his moans sounded like heaven and every touch he gave you was addicting. Every curve of his body was addicting, you’d memorized every detail. Licking the rugged edges of his body until you reached his bodies most prized possession, his cock.

Your hair fell in front of your face as you looked down to the space between your bodies, Kylian didn’t give you much time before he was grabbing you by the shoulders to be brought back into his body. Immediately your lips were on his, connecting in a feverish manner. Kylian brought his bigs hand to your ass, massaging the soft flesh attentively. You gasped at this action allowing Kylian to slide his tongue into your mouth, you let out a deep moan as you let him explore your mouth tongue and teeth clashing.

Pulling back for air as quickly as possible before reconnecting your swollen lips together. Kylian pulled away, allowing for you to catch your breathe as he brought his cock under your dripping pussy. “mhm, shit” you sighed softly, letting your wetness coat the base of his dick as Kylian encouraged you to align his cock with your entrance.

You lifted your hips, positioning your body over his before he stopped you with a grab of your hips. “Wait, what about a condom?” He asked curiously, you’d never let Kylian hit it raw before, always telling him he had much bigger things to worry about then getting your pregnant. But tonight, Kylian deserved it all, he deserved to feel your pretty pussy ride his cock.

Leaning into his face you kissed him hard, bringing a hand to the back of his head. You pulled away looking into his eyes as he smiled softly. “I want” you brought your hands together, intertwining them over his abdomen. “I want it raw Kylian, I want you to fill this pretty pussy with your cum” Kylian could have came at your words, the filthy words spilling from your mouth were going directly down to his dick that was twitching under your dripping core.

“Then be a good girl and get on this cock” he stated, tilting his head to the space between your sex. Kylian buried his head in your breasts, kissing them softly as you held his cock in your hand, aligning it with your entrance before finally falling down on his cock. “tu me prends tellement bien, ma petite salope” you take me so well, my little slut Kylian groaned, latching his tongue onto your nipple, sucking on it as his hand fondled your other breast.

The stretch of Kylian’s cock was never one you could get used to, his thick, hot member felt as if it was leaking into your stomach each time, leaving your mind blank and your pussy squelching. Kylian’s head lifted to connect his lips with yours once again, before you left them dragging along open mouthed kisses down his neck, marking the hot flesh as a coat of sweat started to appear on his smooth skin. He wanted to move, he wanted to move so bad it hurt. But he knew waiting for you to adjust would allow you to last for many rounds, Kylian was always in it for the long run.

“I’m ready” you croaked, head titling back as Kylian shifted his body slightly. Kylian smirked, leaning against the headboard hands at his waist. “Give me a show y/n” Kylian shrugged, “chevauche ton capitaine comme la salope que tu es” ride your captain like the cockslut you are he continued, eyes piercing. Your hands attached to his broad shoulders, holding them for dear life as you lifted your hips before sliding back down onto his cock.

“So full, always so full with your cock” you moaned, building up a rhythm as you bounced on his dick. Kylian felt so hot inside of you, now that you were riding him raw it felt as if you could feel every bit of his cock like never before.

“Merde, so good at riding this cock” Kylian praised, grabbing at your breasts as they bounced with every move of your body. Your were taking Kylian hard, you hands coming to lock around his neck for support. Kylian could tell you were getting tired, your rhythm slowing as you tried to calm your body. “Getting tired?” Kylian mocked, “always so needy for my cock, don’t even know what to do with yourself” he continued, reaching to grab bunches of your hair as you grinded on a particular spot that had his cock twitching.

Kylian began to match your bounces with hard thrusts, soon enough your moans turned into screams as Kylian let out guttural groans in return. “Kylian, it’s so good Kylian” you moaned bringing your lips to his neck, assaulting the flesh as Kylian’s head titled to give you better access. Your first orgasm approached quickly, passing over you hard and slow. Kylian guided you through it, hitting the spots inside of you that made you go dizzy until you were shaking.

“Turn around” Kylian demanded. You stopped moving, confused at his sudden halt. Kylian slipped out of your tight hole, turning your body swiftly to be on your stomach. “Ass in the air mon amour” Kylian spoke, handing a palm across the edge of your ass, watching as your body inched forward. You turned around, bringing a hand to his neck pulling him into a harsh kiss, “ruin me Kylian, cum inside this pussy. Your pussy” you whispered seductively. Kylian smirked, pushing your body back onto the bed, sliding inside of your empty core.

“So big” you muttered burying your head into the pillows as Kylian wasted no time letting you readjust, his thrusts were mercilessly drilling into your dripping sex. Kylian bundled your hair in his hands bringing your body to be flushed against his, allowing for him to hit deeper inside of you.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop please” you begged, tears brimming your water line. Kylian laughed softly, “give me another one bébé, I know you can give me another.” You nodded to his words, focusing on his deep stokes before coming undone at the shout of his name. Kylian didn’t stop, he continued to thrust inside of you even after you cried it was to much.

“I’m gonna cum, and you’re gonna take it like a good girl yeah?” You could only muster a broken “yes” the overstimulation on your clit overpowering. Kylian let out a soft moan, leaning forward to press his forehead onto your shoulder, groaning, dick twitching as he releases inside of you. His thick, hot load creaming your insides as you come another time, your body convulsing as Kylian rode you through your highs.

Weakly, you close your arms behind you and cradle his head by pressing your back against his chest. Once more, he thrusts inside of you, and you can feel his cum spilling out of you, warm and sticky.

“mon capitaine” my captain you spoke softly. Kylian didn’t release his grip on you, instead he pressed a messy kiss to your neck, his light stubble sensitive against your hot skin. You both take short, loud breaths after a minute's pause. His lips wait against your skin, one more kiss squeezed into it, a way for him to channel the immense love he feels.

A victory’s symphony.

[szariahwroteit]

Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Orginal Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 1

Although Victoria lived and breathed ballet, her passion could not overshadow the toll the art form exacted on her body and soul. The rigorous discipline of dance had transported her halfway across the globe, where she faced myriad challenges as a young woman striving to discover her identity while navigating the complexities of life.

“Perfection!” exclaimed Margaux, the esteemed choreographer of the dance company, her eyes scrutinizing every movement as she observed the dancers performing their routine with acute precision.

As Tori glided across the polished wooden floor, her thighs burned with exertion and her arms felt weighty, a testament to the countless hours of practice. Each leap and pirouette required immense concentration, her breath coming in quick, shallow wafts as she focused intently on maintaining her form. The crescendo of the music reverberated through the studio, guiding her movements toward the grand finale of the dance.

“¡Excelente!” Margaux called out, her accent thick and voice bright with enthusiasm as she applauded, pivoting on the balls of her feet with infectious energy. As Tori and the other dancers approached their belongings, fatigue lingered in their limbs, but a shared glow of accomplishment shone in their eyes, a silent acknowledgement of the artistry they had poured into their performance.

“I'm so tired,” Tori huffed as she took a seat beside her bag, pulling her pointe shoes from her feet before stretching them, letting out a groan of relief as her toes finally escaped the confines of the tight-fitting shoes. “I didn’t think today’s rehearsal would be so intense.”

“Are you coming to the gala tonight?” one of the other dancers asked as she turned to look at Tori, who sat on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her.

Tori nodded her head, tiredness lacing her voice. “I think Margaux would banish me if I didn't. She’s been talking about it all week.”

With the end of the calendar year came the festive season, and to celebrate the dance company's success, they hosted a Christmas gala. An event that had been the talk of the studio for the last week or so.

As a newcomer to the company, this would be Tori’s first time attending, but from what she'd heard, it was a night of glamour, laughter, and celebration—a chance for the dancers to let loose and enjoy the fruits of their hard work before they headed back to their respective parts of the world for the holidays.

As a fresh face within the company, Tori was buzzing with excitement for her inaugural event. She had heard whispers about the night—a dazzling affair filled with glamour, laughter, and the vibrant energy of celebration. It was an opportunity for the dancers, who had invested so much passion and dedication, to let their hair down and revel in the rewards of their hard work before embarking on their journeys back to various corners of the globe for the holiday season.

Even though the company was based in the enchanting Spanish capital, its talented dancers hailed from across the world. For Tori, her roots were firmly planted in Atlanta, Georgia, a city known for its soul and hospitality.

This new chapter in her life promised not only the thrill of performance but also the chance to forge connections and make her mark.

From a young age, Tori had always dreamed of dancing around the world, each twirl and leap filled with the promise of adventure. When the opportunity finally arose to pursue those dreams in the vibrant city of Madrid nearly nine months ago, she embraced it with an open heart and mind.

After a long week of rehearsals and teaching her classes to the young dancers within the company, all Tori wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep the entire weekend away, but duty called.

With weary legs that ached from hours of practice, Victoria finally stepped out of the dance studio, her mind momentarily distracted from the task of arranging the contents of her bag that hung heavily from her shoulder. Just then, the sound of a playful swat rang out as Mia, one of the other dancers, landed a playful hit on her butt while darting past her.

"Have you picked out a dress for tonight?" Mia teased, a sly smirk curving her lips, her rich Spanish accent infusing a rhythm into her words as she matched Tori’s brisk pace.

“I’m still deciding,” Tori replied with a weary yet warm smile. She reached for the hair tie that had held her bun in a tight grip throughout the day, releasing it with a gentle tug. Her dark hair tumbled freely over her shoulders, cascading down her back in soft waves that caught the light as she moved.

“Whatever you decide, I know you will look absolutely stunning,” Mia declared with a beaming smile, planting a quick kiss on Tori’s cheek before darting away down a corridor lined with glass-panelled dance studios, the sounds of music and laughter spilling out into the hall.

As the chill of the evening air nipped at her skin, Victoria pulled up the zipper on her cozy puffer jacket, bracing herself for the brisk ten-minute walk back to her apartment.

Slipping her headphones in, she pressed play, allowing Sza’s smooth, soulful voice to wash over her, surrounding her as she began her journey home.

Tori loved that everything from her favourite shopping location to the studio was all within walking distance; the proximity meant that there was so much of the city she still had yet to explore.

As Tori stepped through the door of her sleek apartment, she let out a contented sigh, the familiar scent of home wrapping around her like a warm embrace. She quickly kicked off her Chanel sneakers, the soft thud echoing slightly in the quiet space. With a tug, she pulled off her coat, sliding it onto a nearby hook before making her way into the kitchen.

The cool, polished surfaces gleamed under the soft glow of the overhead lights as she opened the refrigerator door, the chill washing over her as reached for a bottle of water, the condensation forming small beads on the glass, and grabbed a bag of potato chips from the pantry.

With her small feast in hand, Tori moved to the living room, where the inviting couch beckoned her. The space was adorned with plush cushions and soft hues, perfect for unwinding. As she settled in, wrapping a soft, cozy blanket around herself, the weight of the day began to lift. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy, an irresistible tide of fatigue sweeping over her.

Determined to catch a few hours of rest before the excitement of the night unfolded, she grabbed her phone and hastily set an alarm. Snuggling deeper into the blanket, she closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift into slumber, the festivities that awaited her at the forefront of her mind.

A few hours later, Tori awoke to the soft chime of her alarm, the sound gently pulling her from the depths of slumber. She blinked against the soft glow of her apartment, momentarily disoriented but quickly reminded of the gala. A rush of adrenaline surged through her as she swung her legs over the side of the couch, her heart fluttering with anticipation.

After a quick shower, Tori stood in front of her closet, her heart fluttering as she pulled out her dress options for the evening. Both fabrics felt luxurious against her skin, but there was something about the black option that drew her to it.

Tori chose a stunning black dress that exuded elegance with its halter neckline and a daring deep V-cut that beautifully showcased her décolletage. The dress hugged her figure snugly, highlighting her graceful yet curvaceous silhouette, and cascaded down to the floor in a dramatic, flowing manner.

To complete her ensemble, Tori adorned herself with a selection of shimmering bracelets that caught the light with every movement and carried a chic small Saint Laurent handbag that added a touch of luxury. The overall effect was a remarkable blend of sophistication and allure.

Given the intricate design of her dress, Tori opted for a more understated approach with her hair, styling it simply to allow the dress to take centre stage. Her makeup was minimal and fresh, enhancing her natural features without overwhelming her look. She finished her outfit with a pair of Rene Caovilla heels, their intricate detailing elevating her appearance and adding a final touch of glamour.

Not only did Tori look good, but after napping for a few hours and taking her time to prepare for the evening ahead, she felt it too.

Tori slipped on her coat and grabbed her purse before booking a cab. She locked her apartment door and made her way down to the lobby.

Her heels clicked against the polished marble floor of the building as she stepped into the elevator. Tori felt a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling within her. The anticipation of the gala was palpable, and she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of celebrating with her fellow dancers.

As the elevator doors opened, she stepped out into the cool evening air, the city lights twinkling like stars against the darkening sky. Tori hailed a cab, her heart racing as she slid into the back seat. The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb, weaving through the bustling streets of Madrid.

The ride felt both quick and slow, each passing moment heightening her anticipation. Tori gazed out the window, watching the vibrant city pass by, the festive decorations illuminating the streets. She could already hear the distant sounds of music and laughter as they approached the venue.

When the cab finally came to a stop, Tori took a deep breath, her heart pounding with excitement. She stepped out and was immediately enveloped by the lively atmosphere. The venue was a grand building adorned with twinkling lights and elegant decorations, a perfect setting for the gala.

As she walked toward the entrance, Tori spotted familiar faces among the crowd. Dancers from the company mingled, their laughter ringing out like music. She felt a rush of warmth as she recognized Mia, who was chatting animatedly with a group of dancers.

“Tori!” Mia called out, her voice bright and welcoming. She rushed over, her own outfit sparkling under the lights. “You made it! You look absolutely stunning!”

“Thanks, Mia! You look incredible too!” Tori replied, her nerves easing as she embraced her friend.

“Come on, let’s get inside! The night is just beginning!” Mia exclaimed, grabbing Tori’s hand and leading her through the entrance.

Inside, the atmosphere was electric. The grand hall was filled with elegantly dressed guests, the air buzzing with excitement. A live band played soft music in the corner, and the scent of delicious food wafted through the air. Tori felt a thrill of joy as she took in the scene, her heart swelling with gratitude for being part of this vibrant community.

As they made their way through the crowd, Tori spotted Margaux, the choreographer, chatting with a few dancers. She felt a flutter of nerves at the thought of approaching her, but Mia encouraged her with a gentle nudge.

“Let’s go say hi!” Mia urged, and together they approached Margaux.

“Ladies!” Margaux greeted them with a warm smile. “You both look fabulous tonight! I’m so proud of the hard work you’ve put in this season.”

“Thank you, Margaux!” Tori replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her stomach. “It’s an honour to be part of this company.”

As the night unfolded, Tori found herself swept up in the festivities. She danced, laughed, and mingled with her fellow dancers, each moment filled with joy and camaraderie. The worries and fatigue from the week melted away, replaced by the exhilaration of celebration.

At one point, Tori stepped outside onto a balcony to catch her breath. The cool night air felt refreshing against her skin, and she leaned against the railing, taking in the stunning view of the city. The lights of Madrid twinkled like stars, and she felt a sense of peace wash over her.

“Enjoying the view?” a voice interrupted her thoughts. Tori turned to see a fellow dancer, Lucas, leaning against the railing beside her. He wore a charming smile, his eyes sparkling with playfulness.

“Madrid is a beautiful city,” Tori agreed, returning his smile as she glanced back at the dazzling skyline before them. “It’s hard to believe I’ve been here for almost nine months now. Sometimes it feels like a dream.”

Lucas chuckled softly, his eyes reflecting the warm glow of the city lights. “I know what you mean. This place can be both exhilarating and overwhelming. But tonight, we’re here to celebrate, right?”

“Absolutely!” Tori exclaimed, feeling her heart lift at the thought. She took a moment to appreciate the energy around them—attendees laughing and mingling, the music spilling out from the venue, and the festive decorations that adorned every corner.

“Have you had a drink yet?” Lucas asked, tilting his head slightly, his expression suggestive.

“Not yet,” Tori confirmed. 

“Please go and change that, this is a night to celebrate all of our hard work,” ushering Tori inside, Lucas playfully pushed her in the direction of the bar before he was pulled into a conversation by another dancer leaving her alone in the pursuit of a drink.

As Tori made her way through the crowd, the rhythm of the music pulled her along, excitement bubbling in her stomach. She spotted the bar just across the expansive room, with a sleek surface shining under the warm golden lights. The buzz of laughter and chatter surrounded her, and she felt a tingle of anticipation for the night's festivities. 

Navigating through the throngs of elegantly dressed guests, Tori finally reached the bar. She leaned against the polished counter, ready to place her order. The bartender approached, giving her a friendly smile as he raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. 

“What can I get you?” he asked, his voice smooth and inviting.

“Could I have a glass of Prosecco, please?” Tori replied, feeling her nerves vanish with the anticipation of the bubbles teasing her palate.

Just as the bartender poured her drink, someone bumped into her, the abruptness sending a jolt through her. Before she could react, she felt the cold splash of liquid hit her cleavage. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Jude rushed as he quickly grabbed a pile of napkins from the bar forcing them into Tori’s hands. He hadn't seen her as she stepped behind him, but he felt terrible as he watched the remains of his drink meander down her chest and drip from the saturated silk of her dress. 

Tori's eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing as the cool liquid seeped into the fabric against her skin. The bar's dim light danced off the shimmering material, accentuating every curve of her silhouette. She looked down at the mess, then back up at the man, who was fumbling with the napkins like a frantic child. 

“It’s... it’s fine,” she managed, though her voice was softened with embarrassment. “I’ve got it.”

Jude ran a hand through his hair, his gaze flicking nervously to her chest, the way the silk clung to it before she turned on her heels and rushed in the direction of the restrooms. 

Cautiously following behind her, Jude watched as she stepped out to the party into the hall, her heels echoing against the floor as she sauntered into the ladies' room. 

Waiting outside for her to return, Jude pushed his hands into his pockets as leaned against the wall, using the moment alone to decompress from all of the conversations he’d been pulled into since arriving at the event. 

If Jude were to be completely honest, he would confess that he knew little to nothing about ballet. His identity was firmly rooted in the world of football, a sport that filled his heart with passion and purpose. 

Tonight, however, he found himself in unfamiliar territory, dragged along by his team's public relations staff. As a key player in Real Madrid’s starting eleven, he understood that public engagements were an essential aspect of his role, just as crucial as the rigorous conditioning he undertook to keep his body at peak performance.

He'd been asked to attend in support of a cause he knew very little about, but in the moment all he cared about was writing a wrong and ensuring he hadn't ruined someone's night and dress. 

When the woman returned her dress looked as good as new, albeit the napkins she still used to dab at the material. 

Tori emerged from the restroom, her cheeks still flushed but her expression more composed. She had managed to clean up the worst of the spill, and the silk of her dress now glimmered under the dim lights, though the remnants of Jude's drink still clung to the edges of her neckline. She caught sight of Jude leaning against the wall, his posture relaxed but his eyes betraying a hint of concern.

“See? All better,” she said, attempting to lighten the mood as she dabbed at the last few spots with the napkin. “I think I’ll survive.”

Jude let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a sheepish smile breaking across his face. “I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to—”

“Spill your drink all over me?” Tori interjected with a pout. “It’s okay. I’ve had worse things happen at parties.”

“Still, I feel terrible,” he replied, running a hand through his tousled hair again. “I should’ve been more careful.”

Tori waved her hand dismissively, her confidence still dwindling but slowly returning as she stood in the presence of the handsome stranger. “Honestly, it’s fine. I managed to get most of it cleaned. Besides, I doubt anyone will notice.” She glanced around the bustling venue, her eyes bright and glistening.

Jude raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I’ll still know, at least let me have it cleaned professionally.”

“Thanks,” Tori said, her heart warming at his chivalry. “But honestly, it's fine…. I didn't catch your name.”

Tori studied the man's face, an unsettling sense of familiarity coming over her. His features were striking yet elusive; she could see the chiselled lines of his jaw and the way his dark tapered curls seemed uniform and perfectly in place. Despite her mind dancing through the roster of dancers she knew—none of whom matched him—something about him tugged at her memory. There was an intensity in his piercing gaze that hinted he belonged somewhere significant, but where that was remained just out of reach in her mind.

“Jude,” he said with a warm smile, extending his hand toward her. “And you are?”

“Tori,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I'm a dancer here, have we met before? You look familiar but I can't place it.”

“No, I think I’d remember meeting you Tori,” Jude replied. “But as for me being familiar, maybe that's why,” he smirked as he pointed behind Tori to a banner that hung across the ceiling and there he was, accompanied by three other men all dressed in the same white and gold jerseys. 

“You’re a soccer player?” Victoria asked curiously, her lack of knowledge surrounding who he was only adding to Jude's amusement. 

“You could say that, although where I’m from we prefer the term “football”.” he explained. 

Tori laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Right, of course! I should have guessed. I’m not really into sports, but I’ve heard soc—football is huge out here. You guys are kind of a big deal, aren’t you?”

Jude chuckled, a hint of modesty in his demeanor. “We try our best. It’s a team effort, really. But tonight, I’m just here to support a good cause and, apparently, to make a mess of things.”

“Hey, it could have happened to anyone,” Tori reassured him, her smile warm. “And at least you weren’t a dickhead about it.”

Jude laughed, the tension easing between them. “I appreciate that. I’ll take ‘not a dickhead’ as a win for the night.”

Tori grinned, feeling more at ease. “So, what brings you to a ballet gala? I assume it’s not your usual scene?”

“Honestly? I was dragged here by my team, if I’m not mistaken we worked with the company this year.” he admitted, a hint of sheepishness in his tone. “Optics I guess.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job so far,” Tori said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’ve already made quite the impression.”

“Let’s hope it’s a good one,” Jude replied, his gaze steady on her. “And what about you? How did you end up in Madrid dancing with this company?”

Tori took a moment to gather her thoughts, her heart swelling with pride as she spoke. “I’ve always dreamed of dancing professionally somewhere other than where I’m from, and when the opportunity came to join this company, I jumped at it. It’s been a whirlwind experience, but I love every minute of it. The culture, the people, the passion—it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“That’s inspiring,” Jude said, genuinely impressed.  Despite their different career paths, it was evident their stories held similarities. “I can’t imagine the dedication it takes to pursue something like that.”

“It’s definitely not easy,” Tori admitted, her expression turning contemplative. “But then again I can’t imagine being an athlete is a walk in the park.”

“It isn’t, but I love football,” Jude admitted. 

“The things we do for love, right?” Tori laughed making Jude do the same. 

The shared laughter felt like a soft thread stitching them closer together, and Tori felt a delightful thrill buzzing through her. Just as she was gathering the courage to delve deeper into their conversation, Mia appeared at her side, radiant and full of energy.

“There you are!” Mia exclaimed, her annoyance cloaked in the brightness of her smile. “I was looking for you everywhere! We need to dance, Tori! Now!”

Before Tori could respond, Mia whisked her away, dragging her back into the heart of the event where the music pulsed like a living entity. Tori turned her head back toward Jude, and for a split second, their eyes locked, each feeling a spark of interest. But Mia's infectious energy swept her away entirely.

“Tori,” Jude murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he observed the scene unfolding before him. A girl with a radiant smile and a bubbly personality gently pulled Tori away, her laughter ringing out like a joyful melody. Jude’s gaze lingered on Tori, captivated by the way her eyes sparkled with delight and the warmth of her smile that illuminated the space around her. The energy she radiated was magnetic, filling the air with a sense of carefree joy that made him long to understand the source of her exuberance. He couldn’t help but feel drawn to her, his curiosity deepening as he watched.

“You know her?” Kylian smirked knowingly as he checked the time on his wristwatch, his eyes following in the same direction as his teammate. 

Whoever she was, she was beautiful and definitely his type. However, Kylian could tell from the interaction he observed across the room that Jude had already taken a liking to her. As competitive as he was, he wasn’t the kind of guy to step on anyone’s toes. 

“No, she’s a dancer here,” Jude replied, his voice still low, as if he were afraid to break the spell that Tori seemed to cast over him.

Kylian raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Are you going to get to know her? She's beautiful.”

Jude nodded, his eyes still fixed on Tori as she spun around, her laughter ringing out like music as she playfully danced with the same girl that had stolen her earlier. “Yeah, she is,” he said, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice.

Kylian chuckled, nudging Jude teasingly. “You should go and talk to her.”

But instead of moving forward, Jude remained rooted in place, watching Tori through the crowds of people enjoying the night. He felt an inexplicable pull to her, a desire to know more about the passionate spirit behind her smiles and laughter. She danced freely, her movements fluid and alive, each twirl a reflection of her commitment to her craft. It excited him, to see someone so deeply engaged in what they loved. 

The evening continued to unfold around them—there were mingling groups, clinking glasses, and the low thrum of music guiding each heartbeat within the grand venue. Jude’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, each pulling him in a different direction. But he found comfort in simply observing her from a distance, letting her joyous energy wash over him.

However, as the night drew on and the crowd began to thin, he noticed Tori’s demeanor shift slightly. She began scanning the surroundings, an almost hesitant look crossing her face. The sparkle in her eyes dimmed just a fraction as she glanced down at her phone, then around to the curb outside where cabs occasionally pulled up, but there didn't seem to be one in sight.

Jude's instinct kicked in. This beautiful dancer, so full of life just moments ago, now appeared a bit lost and alone. He began to weigh his options despite his earlier hesitation. He could easily approach her, but would that be appropriate now? There was still a certain barrier that held him back. But as he watched her, thoughts of lost opportunities and possible regret flashed through his mind—a thought he couldn’t dismiss.

It was easy to walk away, to let her drift into the night when she seemed perfectly content within her circle of friends. But this chance felt too potent to let go.

Not wasting another moment, Jude pushed off the bar, his heart racing with a heady mix of determination. He made his way through the retreating crowd until he reached the door and stepped outside. There, he spotted Tori standing under a streetlight, her figure highlighted against the backdrop of the bustling street. 

“Tori!” Jude called out, the cold night air surrounding his words with a warmth of intent.

She turned, her expression brightening as she saw him. “Jude! Hi!” Her smile was genuine and tugged at something deep within him. “What’s up?”

“I was just about to reach out and see if you needed a ride home,” he offered, nodding toward the street where a few cabs were beginning to crawl past picking up the other attendees of the nights events. “You’ve been patiently waiting for one, haven’t you?.”

Tori’s expression of surprise quickly morphed into a look of consideration. “That’s really sweet of you, but I don’t want to impose. It’s so nice of you to offer.”

“It's no imposition, I promise. Besides, I'd hate for you to wait out here alone for too long, especially if it gets any colder.” He offered her a reassuring smile, hoping it conveyed that she could trust him. They had shared a light connection earlier, and he wanted to explore the possibility of fostering it further. 

She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip as she considered his words. Finally, she relented, her shoulders relaxing. “Alright, if you’re sure. That would be amazing.”

They made their way to the curb, where Jude quickly called for his chauffeur, who pulled up in a sleek black car moments later. As they approached, Tori’s eyes widened a little, intrigued by the luxury of the vehicle. 

“You really are a big deal, aren’t you?” she teased playfully, her smile blooming once more. 

Jude chuckled, shaking his head. “Not really. A guy with a good job. Besides, I guess you could say I’m just making sure I return the favor after ruining your night.” 

“Fair point,” Tori replied with a laugh. 

He opened the door, and Tori slid into the seat, tucking her dress carefully as she did. Jude followed suit, closing the door behind him and settling in. The interior was plush and inviting, the soft ambient lights casting a warm glow as the driver began to pull away from the venue.

“Wow, this is really nice. Very different from any other transport I’ve taken tonight,” she admitted, looking around with amused curiosity.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jude said with a wink. “So, what’s it like being part of a ballet company? You must have stories.”

Tori leaned back, her enthusiasm ignited by the conversation. “Honestly, it’s incredible! The dedication, the relationships—there's always something new to learn. Each performance isa fruition of not only my work but also the efforts of everyone around me. The energy we share on stage is something magical.”

As she spoke, Jude watched her, captivated by the way her eyes lit up. With each word, he felt himself drawn in further, wanting to know not just about her life as a dancer but who she truly was beyond the stage. 

“What about you?” Tori countered, her gaze shifting to him. “Life as a professional athlete must be exciting. Do you enjoy it?”

“I do,” Jude replied, allowing himself to relax as he shrugged off the more serious demeanor he tended to adopt at public events. “It’s a mix of pressure and joy. I love thrill of competition, the adrenaline—it’s intoxicating. But it’s not all glamour; the hard work is relentless and sometimes lonely. I admire you for your dedication; it’s admirable to create something so beautiful with your body.”

Tori smiled, a hint of shyness coloring her cheeks. “Thank you, that means a lot. It’s getting to that beauty and artistry that can be exhausting. You really have to push yourself beyond the limits sometimes.”

Jude nodded, intrigued. “What made youchoose dancing?”

After a brief moment of contemplation, Tori replied, “I don't think I've ever loved anything more.” 

Jude and Tori spoke the entire journey to her apartment, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them. They shared stories about their childhoods, their families, and the paths that led them to their respective careers. Tori spoke of her early days in Atlanta, where she first discovered her love for dance, and how she had always dreamed of performing on grand stages. Jude shared anecdotes from his youth, the thrill of kicking a ball around with friends, and the moment he realized he wanted to pursue football professionally.

As they approached Tori's apartment building, the conversation shifted to their aspirations. Tori expressed her desire to choreograph her own pieces one day, to create something that resonated with others on a deeper level. Jude, in turn, spoke of his hopes to leave a legacy in football, to be remembered not just for his skills on the pitch but for his contributions off it as well.

When they arrived, Jude stepped out first and opened the door for Tori, who smiled at the gesture. “Thank you for the ride, Jude. I really enjoyed our conversation.”

“Me too,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her. “I’m glad I ran into you tonight. It was a pleasant surprise.”

Tori felt a flutter in her chest at his words. “Likewise,” she said, her tone softening. The warmth radiating from their shared moment felt electric, and she wanted to hold onto it a little longer. 

As they stood there in front of her apartment, the night air wrapped around them, a slight chill blending with the heat of their conversation. Tori toyed nervously with the straps of her handbag, the silent anticipation fostering a palpable tension between them. 

“What’s next for you?” Jude asked, leaning casually against the wall beside her, his eyes searching hers.

“I’ll probably just crash. It’s been a long day,” Tori sighed, already feeling the weight of her body knowing it would soon be seeking rest. "But I’m excited for rehearsal tomorrow. We’ve got a big performance coming up in the spring that we’ve already started rehearsals for.”

“Is that so?” Jude tilted his head, a smirk forming on his lips. “What’s the performance about?”

“It's a classic piece, really. A mix of dramatic storytelling set to beautiful music. The choreography is breathtaking," she shared, her passion radiating ever so present. “You should come and see it sometime, if you’re interested. I can get you tickets.”

Jude's heart raced at the thought, the prospect of witnessing her dance igniting a flicker of excitement within him. “I’d love that,” he said earnestly. “Just let me know when.”

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the surrounding city seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in the spotlight of their conversation. Tori felt a flutter in her stomach – a blend of nerves and intrigue that coursed through her. She took a small step closer, feeling emboldened by the connection they had fostered.

Jude’s expression softened, the magnetic pull between them crackling through the air. “Well, since I’m clearly no good at keeping my drinks to myself, maybe I should stay away.” His teasing brought a light laugh from Tori, easing the air between them.

“I’ll just have to be careful around you, then,” she said playfully.

Jude chuckled, the sound low and rich as he took a step closer and looked down into her expressive eyes.

In that moment, the tension shifted, and without thinking, Jude gently cupped Tori’s face, hesitating slightly as he read her expression. It was infused with a blend of surprise and something that looked like desire. The space between them felt charged, as though the universe had drawn them together for this very moment.

“Can I?” he mouthed softly, his voice barely a whisper, seeking her permission. 

Tori nodded, her heart racing, the remnants of their conversation swirling around them like a beautiful dance. 

Jude leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against hers in the softest of kisses, a tentative exploration that sent shivers down her spine. Her breath hitched in her throat as she leaned into him, deepening the kiss, feeling the warmth of his body meld against hers.

Jude felt a rush of warmth wash over him as Tori’s soft hand settled gently on the back of his neck. It was as if a current of electricity had surged through him, igniting every nerve ending. His hands instinctively found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as their lips met in a tender kiss.

As Tori pulled away, she felt her cheeks warm with a deep blush that betrayed her flustered emotions. Jude, undeterred, leaned in and pressed another soft kiss against her lips, his touch lingering just a moment longer. When he finally stood upright, he seemed to tower over her, his height making her feel both small and protected all at once. The intensity of his gaze mixed with the sweetness of the moment left her breathless.

“Thank you for getting me home,” Tori smiled sweetly up at Jude, her fingers brushing against his blazer-covered bicep. 

“Thank you for allowing me to,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “I wasn’t sure how tonight would go, but I’m really happy I met you.”

Tori’s heart fluttered at his words, and she felt a warmth spread through her chest. “Me too. I didn’t expect to have such an incredible time, especially at my first gala. You made it special.”

Jude chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think we could make dinner sometime special too.”

Tori laughed a melodic sound that made Jude’s heart race. “I don't doubt it, but aren't you a super in-demand soccer player?”

“It’s football,” Jude corrected in amusement. “Which is exactly why a dinner together is necessary, I need to work that word out of your vocabulary.” 

“My bad, football,” Victoria smiled playfully, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “But seriously, I’d like to have dinner with you. Just let me know when you’re free.”

“Perfect,” Jude said, his heart fluttering at her enthusiasm. “Are you free this weekend?”

“Is tomorrow good for you?” Tori asked feeling rather shy under Jude’s intense gaze and hating how enthusiastic she sounded. She could hardly believe how quickly the evening had unfolded, and the prospect of spending more time with him sent butterflies dancing in her stomach.

“Tomorrow sounds perfect,” Jude replied, a grin spreading across his face. “How about I pick you up at seven?”

“Seven it is,” Tori confirmed, her heart racing at the thought of their upcoming dinner. “I’ll be ready.”

As they stood there, the cold night air wrapped around them like a soft blanket, Tori felt a sense of comfort and excitement. She had never imagined that attending her dance companies end of year gala could lead to such a connection with someone like Jude. 

“Can I have a number to call you on, or do you want me to stand out here and shout your name?” Jude teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

Tori laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I guess a number would be more effective,” she replied, pulling out her phone. She quickly pulled up her contact information and handed it to him. “There you go. Just promise you won’t forget to text me.”

“I promise,” Jude said, his voice earnest as he took her phone and saved her number. He handed it back with a smile that made her heart skip a beat. “I’m determined to get that S word out of your system.”

Tori grinned at his confidence, her heart racing at the thought of spending time with him in a intimate setting. Jude was captivating, with a charm that was both effortless and magnetic. She found herself wanting to learn more about him—the man behind the athlete. 

“You make it sound like a challenge,” she said, playfully arching an eyebrow at him. 

“Trust me, I thrive on challenges,” he replied, leaning closer as if to let her in on a secret. “Especially when they involve beautiful women.”

The way he spoke sent a shiver down her spine, igniting a warmth deep within her. She felt her heart race at the connection they shared, a thrill that was both exhilarating and terrifying. “Well, I’m sure I can hold my own when it comes to challenges,” Tori shot back, her voice teasing despite the butterflies flitting about in her stomach.

Jude's lips twitched into a smile, and he took a step closer, their bodies almost touching now. “I have no doubt about that. I can tell you’re a woman who knows what she wants.” He paused, his eyes locking onto hers with a burning intensity.

[nymrs]

#1. UNFAITHFUL | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: above

Genre: angst

Pairings: Kylian Mbappé x female reader

The entrance door clicked open. He had a hard time finding the keyhole, probably still tipsy from his night out. "Bébé? Why aren’t you sleeping? It’s 5am. What made you wake up this early?", he asked as he entered the living room of your shared apartment. If he only knew you haven’t slept a single second. The room was dark and silent, only a few candles lightening up the room, the music you’ve been playing was almost too quiet to hear. He only saw your silhouette in front of the window, the moonlight shining right on you. Your back was turned to him and you were refusing to turn around. "Are you drinking? What did I miss, are we already celebrating our anniversary?", he joked the moment he realised you held a glass of wine in your hand. Yes, the next weekend would mark your three years anniversary. But it wouldn’t even get this far. You scoffed and took another sip. "I'm celebrating my comeback to the world of singles." Obviously nothing Kylian expected to hear, you could tell he was lost for words. "Wha- what? Y/N, what are you even talking about?" Slowly turning around, you looked him dead in the eyes. He took a step back when he saw the blurred mascara under your eyes that left marks of the already dried out tears you’ve been crying the entire night. "Instead of making a scene I decided to pack your belongings so you could leave as soon as possible", you informed and nodded towards the bags you’ve placed on the other side of the room. Kylian stared at you in disbelief, "Are you serious right now? What are you doing this for?" Your wine glass dropped onto the floor, the red liquid pouring all over the ground. "Y/N, what the fuck?! What got into you?" The sadness you felt earlier turned into nothing but anger and hate. "What I’m doing this for? You’re honestly asking me what I'm doing this for?", your voice got louder with every word. You took a few steps towards him, but still left enough space between you two. Kylian bluntly looked at you in shock before you threw your phone into him. "Reason enough?", you cried out. He picked up your phone that landed on the floor, only to see an instagram reel that showed him all snuggled up with another woman. She was sitting on his lap, they’ve been whispering sweet nothings into each others ear, then she started tugging at his shirt and leaned in for a kiss. "Y/N, I'm so sorry", he sighed, running his hands through his face. "I don’t need your fucking apologies Kylian, grab your damn things and leave!"

"Bébé, I know this shouldn’t have happened, but I regretted it the moment I realised what I was doing. At this point of the night I got absolutely smashed. I immediately told her to leave and haven’t been drinking after", he tried to explain himself but you couldn’t even bother to listen. "It didn’t mean anything to me, I promise."

"The only thing that doesn’t seem to mean anything to you is our relationship, the bond we had, the life we’ve built together. If you think being drunk is an excuse for cheating, then why haven’t I cheated every time I was black out drunk? Why were you the only person I was always thinking about, the only one I wanted to go home to? Trust me, I had a lot of opportunities to do what you did, but I didn’t. Because I truly loved you." You were trying to hold back the tears that threatened to roll down every second. Even being in the same room as Kylian right now, you couldn’t stand it. You needed him to go.

"I love you Y/N, it was just a moment of weakness. It’ll never happen again, I swear on my life." He tried to keep up with you as you were walking up and down the room. When he finally placed his hands on your shoulder in order to calm you down and look at him, you absolutely lost it. "Don’t fucking touch me", you exclaimed and pushed him away, "You humiliated me Kylian! The whole world knows what you’ve done!" All the articles that have been written in the last few hours popped up in your head. "Football star Kylian Mbappé apparently cheating on singer and actress Y/N Y/L/N." "Are (your ship name) over?" "Kylian Mbappé enjoying his freedom after ending his relationship of three years with singer Y/N Y/L/N." Even your manager already called you, asking you to make a statement saying the two of you have broken up some time ago, to make it look like you’re not a victim of betrayal. Only thinking about all those interviewers and paparazzi asking about Kylian made you feel sick already. You turned your back to him again, hearing him sobbing and sniffing. "Grab your bags and go. I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to hear from you", you spoke up, surprisingly in a calm voice. The tears you’ve tried to avoid slowly ran down your cheeks. You heard him hesitatingly walking to the other side of the room, his crying got harder when he took his stuff. "I'm sorry. I’m really sorry what I’ve done. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me someday. I love you", was the last thing he said before he stepped towards the door and left.

[mattsunsdollie]

Dreaming

Kylian Mbappe x Fem!Reader

Description: All you want is to be your boyfriends passenger princess? Keep dreaming

MDNI

Smut 18+ only

You’ve grown to be jealous, all of your friends boyfriends drove them around, calling them their “passenger princess”. You, on the other hand, had a passenger prince. It wasn’t news to anyone that Kylian had never gotten his license, in fact, he preferred it that way. Always saying something along the lines of “Why do I need it cherie? I have a driver who could take me?” Bless his drivers heart, that poor man had spent countless hours behind a wheel. Of course that didn’t go unseen to Kylian, giving the man a generous check for Christmas, and a month off to rest. Which is exactly why you were now the designated driver.

“Love do you need to go now? Can’t we just lay in bed for another hour or 2?” You groaned, covering your eyes with your bare arm. Kylian was a dedicated man, which is one of the qualities you most admired about him. He wouldn’t be the man he is without dedication and his strong work ethic. Which is why, during his Christmas break, when there is no training he is nagging about being driven to the stadium to practice even if that meant doing so alone.

Pulling his shirt over his head and down, covering his stomach he walks over to you, a gentle hand removing your arm. “Promise when we get home we can lay in bed all you want amour. But, I can’t lose momentum, I have a big season with the new club” Lightly placing kisses on your face and collarbone, only stopping to laugh at your exaggerated sighs.

All you wanted was to sleep in with Kylian, but you understand the pressure he has on his shoulders. A new club, a legacy and expectations to live up to, yet he was the most carefree man you’ve met. Dragging your feet you make your way into the bathroom, quickly brushing your teeth and washing your face. Fixing some pieces of hair around your face you see him through the bathroom mirror, kneeled in the corner of your bedroom tying his shoes.

Between the compression shirt and randomly being more needy than usual, the sight left you wanting to really stay in the bed all day. Finally positioning your hair the way you want you see Kylian smiling at you through the mirror before going to the kitchen, you hear the fridge door open about five times, which he only does when he’s been waiting for so long he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

December in Madrid was probably one of the coldest you’ve ever experienced, the cold only adding more fuel to wanting to stay home. Pressing the auto start of the car Kylian had gifted you, even though you insisted the car you had before him was in perfect condition. You picked up an extra water and your headphones before heading into the garage to begin the 15 minute drive to the stadium.

Since driving back and forth didn’t seem convenient, you opted for wearing a workout jumpsuit under a matching sweatpants and hoodie set. If you were going to be a designated driver you would at-least do something productive while waiting.

“Ready bella?” Kylian said as he closed the car door, being embraced by the warmth of the heater and your playlist in the background. Nodding and placing the expensive vehicle in reverse you backed out of the garage and onto the street. Lately, with all the work Kylian had been doing plus an increase in appetite he had grown extremely big, his compressions shirts hugging in all the right places.

Before you knew it you were pulling into the parking lot of the stadium. Parking in an empty lot,which you expected, Kylian extended his arm over the console and grabbed your knee. “I promise I won’t take more than an hour and a half baby” giving a reassuring squeeze. Simply placing your hand over his and nodding, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his arms.

~

After Kylian went into the field you made your way into the gym, which like the rest of the stadium, was empty. Taking off your sweatshirt you began stretching, you didn’t claim to be a pro in the gym but you knew the basics and did workouts here and there.

Now, this wasn’t just any gym of course, it had all the fancy equipment and all the weights. Putting on your head phones you began with the stair master. It started off fine, but at the 15 minute mark you grew increasingly hot, desperate to cool off your body temperature you removed the sweats.

Left in your jumpsuit you could really check yourself out in the mirror, the tight workout set hugging and snatching all the right areas. Looking behind you in the mirror you noticed the small pump the stair master caused. Deciding you might as well go all out since Kylian wouldn’t be done for another hour or so you made your way over to the smith machine to begin working out your glutes.

45 minutes of lifting went by fast, in fact you were so consumed with trying to beat your previous weight and reps you didn’t even notice Kylian standing a few feet behind you. Lifting your head and placing the weight on the bar you see him, shamelessly checking you out.

“Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view amour” he spoke with his arms crossed maintaining eye contact through the mirror. Shaking your head and grabbing a small towel and that was hanging off of a nearby bar you turn around while wiping your hands, “Is it always hot in here? I feel like my skin is going to melt off”

He laughs, extending his arm to wrap it around your waist, “Let’s get you cooled off then cherie” Even if Kylian wasn’t the tallest compared to others he never failed to make you feel small by his wide body. Playing coy you rolled your eyes at his comment “Eager to leave are we now?”

To build tension you deciding to bend over to pick up the sweatpants and hoodie that were folded neatly. You made sure when bending over you do it in a way that showed the outline of your thong. By the time you stand up fully he’s grabbing your hand and dragging you out the gym.

Small french curses leave his mouth as he leads the way to the car. The black luxury vehicle still where you left it, in an empty lot. You’ve never been so glad you had that car, as per Kylians request got it tinted to ensure your safety and his when you drive together.

Going in the car through the designated doors to not raise suspicion to anyone watching the cameras, you quickly throw the pair of sweats in the back seat. Bending over and arching over the console Kylian couldn’t resist seeing your ass in that angle, letting his hands move on instinct and placing a light slap.

Placing a hand on his thigh while now leaning over the console facing him, you close the gap. Slow kissing to begin, your hand creeps closer to his crotch area. Feeling the hard imprint through his joggers you decide to not waste the time you don’t have.

Pulling back only slightly to look down to lower his sweats and boxers. His erection causing it to spring and hit his lower stomach. “Take what’s yours amour” he says analyzing your face. Spitting in the palm of your hand you lower that hand on to the tip, closing the gap between you two at the same time.

Your soft and wet hand circling the tip while kissing him deeper was starting to make his head hazy. Slow and small movements turned into a full handjob, the wet sounds turning you on causing you to rub your thighs to relieve some pressure.

Squeezing tighter at the base and slowly swirling around at the top, hearing groans as you catch your breath from the intense kiss. Pulling your hair to one side ready to lower your head and begin using your mouth Kylian grabs your wrist which was still jerking him off, “Not gonna, fucking hell- last. Please need to feel you now”

And who were you to deny him, his hands eagerly finding your hips and helping you lift over the console to straddle him. Pulling the jumpsuit down to get your breasts to spill over the top he began playing and pinching with your nipples. Content with the reaction he was getting from you, rubbing and grinding down on him.

Losing focus on your nipples and rubbing your pussy from the outside of the jumpsuit, which he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get you out of the one piece. Thinking quickly he grabbed the hem of the shorts, stretching them to the point they were unwearable.

Now that one short was loose enough he rolled up over one ass cheek, leaving your thong exposed as well. Poor damp panties leaving nothing to the imagination, he could see and feel through the soaked material how puffy your lips and clit were.

Grabbing the sorry excuse of underwear he pulled it to the side, noticing the sticky residue that stuck to it as he removed it. “What’s got you this wet baby?” he said as his thumb found its place on your clit again. To lost in the pleasure you didn’t answer immediately.

The scene above him was nothing less than pornographic, boobs spilled out while you rocked trying to keep up with the rhythm of his thumb and his dick laying on your thigh, twitching from the view.

“Y-you, fast please Ky” you moan, using one hand on the consol for balance and the other to play with your nipples. Speeding up he could see your poor hole clenching around nothing, hinting to you approaching your climax.

Grabbing his dick from the base he brought the head and tapped your puffy wet lips with it, the sensation causing you to jerk lightly. “You’re soaked baby, leaking all over me” he said rubbing himself up and down.

“Need it now please, just put it in” you begged, your hand coming down to his hand and angling his tip with your hole. Slight pressure making his tip enter you, the stretch feeling too good. The feeling of being stretched to the brim and it was just the beginning.

With your face scrunched you lowered yourself even more, looking down to see where you two became one. Moaning lowly until you reached the bottom, sitting snugly on top of Kylian. Not having the energy to bounce just yet you began to rock back and forth. Between the wetness and tightness and the jiggle of your boobs with each movement, Kylian felt he could cum right there.

“Shit, just like that. Take this dick, it’s all yours” he groaned, grabbing the fat on your hips, slightly lifting you. With that hint, you began to lightly bounce, moaning louder now. The angle had his tip hitting the deepest part, and every time you bottomed out his trimmed pubic area brushing your clit in a way that would have you seeing stars soon.

Light bouncing turned to just fucking your self on him, using him. At this point you were sure the car was rocking back and forth, but you could care less. “Perfecting fucking pussy, squeezing me- shit, just right” he moaned slapping your ass.

Clenching at the praise didn’t go unnoticed, he pulled the one piece, making you lay directly on him as he wrapped his arms around your back. “Filthy fucking girl, like when I tell you how good this pussy squeezes me?” He grunted in your ear as he began rutting himself up to you.

Curses leaving your mouth you desperately try to reach for something to squeeze, the pressure building as his thrusts become harder and faster. Sneaking your hand between your bodies you began toying with your clit.

The sudden realization that someone could see the car moving, and realize that Kylian is claiming you in the moment caused your wetness to increase. Obviously his team members knew you were dating, but it really solidified it that everyone would see he claimed you as his.

Feeling possessive you began kissing his neck and face, lightly sucking marks on his collar bones. Between the stretch and the depths he was reaching you began bucking down, meeting his thrusts. “Tell me it’s mine baby, only mine” you moaned gripping his arms.

Your statement causing his thrusts to become more erratic and for him to switch back to his native tongue. You quickly lifted up, seeing his dick twitch and glistening. Placing your feet down on either side you really began riding, “Gonna fucking cum, oh shit- so good” you moaned back arched as his hands found your hips.

“Cum on it baby, make a mess. Mark it as yours” he said through gritted teeth, trying to make you cum first before he did. As the intense orgasim rushed through you, you laid flat once again. Kylian kissing your forehead as he grabbed your ass and lifted and put it down.

Leaning on the console you could see white rings on his dick, which he noticed as well. Seeing you finally came he sloppily bucked his hips up, as you milked him dry.

Sitting still, with him still inside you, you felt him tap your butt. “Come on amour, let’s go home”

Groaning from the laziness you felt post sex and exhaustion in your legs you whined, “Kylian for the New Year get your license. I can’t even feel my legs”

/

this was written based off of a dream, but this was also written tipsy sooo if sucks excuse that. also haven’t written since i deactivated my old blog 😩

[latin5mamii]

Sometimes - Kylian Mbappè

warnings: none, maybe flirt (?) and google translate french🙏🏻

genre: interviewer!fem!reader x Kylian Mbappè

summary: The interview that you feared the most, seems to he as unpredictable as possible…

author's note: new husband unlocked😝 btw i think Kyky would totally be like this, like the type of man who, when he wants you he makes it unmistakably clear, even to the point of being a little embarrassing sometimes…

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡

When they told you that you would have to interview Kylian Mbappé, your heart skipped a beat.

"Nothing too difficult," you told yourself, trying to ward off the rising anxiety. "You've done this a hundred times before." But no matter how much you tried to calm yourself, the nerves wouldn't go away. 

Sure, you’re fluent in French, but what if you mispronounced something? What if he couldn’t understand you, and you had to repeat yourself? 

Even worse, what if he was in a bad mood, or worse, simply disinterested? The last thing you wanted was to fumble through a tense or awkward interview. You would have killed for one of the regulars—Vinicius or Rodrygo, maybe—someone you could comfortably chat with. But after tonight’s game, Kylian was the star, and like it or not, the spotlight was yours.

You took a deep breath, gathering your notes as you made your way to the interview area.

As you reached the designated spot, you caught sight of him walking down the corridor. And when your eyes landed on him, your breath hitched. Damn, he was hotter in person.

You took some time to observe his face intently. Droplets of sweat still clinging to his skin, sliding down his sharp jawline, his face slightly tired,and your heartbeat was slightly faster than before.

He must have felt your gaze, because his eyes met yours. For a split second, his expression shifted, surprise flickering in his eyes as if he hadn’t expected to see you watching him so intently. But then, just as quickly, his lips curled into a smile, warm and genuine, that made your pulse race even faster.

You tried to compose yourself, looking as professional as possible, offering him a smile in return as he approached. 

“Bonsoir, Kylian. Félicitations pour le match de ce soir,” you began, hoping your voice didn’t betray the nerves you felt. “Vous avez vraiment dominé sur le terrain. Comment vous sentez-vous après une telle performance?”

("Good evening, Kylian. Congratulations on the match tonight. You really dominated on the field. How do you feel after such a performance?")

Kylian’s smile broadened slightly as he responded, his voice smooth and steady. “Merci beaucoup. Je me sens bien, mais je dois avouer que je suis surpris, et agréablement, je dois dire.”

("Thank you very much. I feel good, but I have to admit I'm surprised, and pleasantly so, I must say.")

You blinked, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words, but he gave you no time to dwell on it. Instead, he continued, his tone laced with a teasing edge. “C’est rare de rencontrer quelqu'un qui m'observe avec autant d'attention. Je me demande ce que tu pensais.”

("It's rare to meet someone who watches me with such attention. I wonder what you were thinking.")

Caught off guard by his candidness, you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. You quickly composed yourself, trying to steer the conversation back to the interview. “Je pensais à quel point vous avez montré une grande détermination ce soir. Qu'est-ce qui vous a motivé à pousser si fort?”

("I was thinking about how much determination you showed tonight. What motivated you to push so hard?")

Kylian chuckled softly, the sound warm and disarming. His gaze remained locked on yours, and you could feel the intensity of his attention. “La motivation vient de plusieurs choses, mais ce soir… il y avait une énergie particulière dans l'air, quelque chose qui m'a poussé à donner encore plus. Peut-être que c'était la sensation que quelqu'un d'intéressant me regardait.”

("Motivation comes from many things, but tonight… there was a special energy in the air, something that pushed me to give even more. Maybe it was the feeling that someone interesting was watching me.")

You felt your breath catch at his words, the playful glint in his eyes making it clear he wasn’t just talking about the match. Professionalism, you reminded yourself. You had a job to do.

“ Une dernière question, Kylian. Après une telle performance, comment vous préparez-vous pour le prochain match? Y a-t-il quelque chose de spécial que vous faites pour garder cette concentration?”

(" One last question, Kylian. After such a performance, how do you prepare for the next match? Is there anything special you do to maintain that focus?")

Kylian paused for a moment, as if considering your question carefully. Then, with that same playful smile that had started the interview, he leaned in just slightly. “Pour rester concentré… je pense qu'il est important d'avoir quelque chose ou quelqu'un qui vous inspire. Quelque chose à quoi penser quand les choses deviennent difficiles. Peut-être que j'ai trouvé ça ce soir.”

("To stay focused… I think it's important to have something or someone that inspires you. Something to think about when things get tough. Maybe I found that tonight.")

Now your heart was definitely skipping beats, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or melt. He was definitely flirting, and he was good at it. But you had to keep your composure, right? Even if you were enjoying this more than you’d like to admit.

But before you could respond, he straightened up, the smile still lingering on his lips as he gave you a nod. “Merci pour l'interview. C'était un plaisir.”

("Thank you for the interview. It was a pleasure.")

You managed to smile back, still a bit flustered. “Le plaisir était pour moi, Kylian. Merci pour votre temps.”

("The pleasure was mine, Kylian. Thank you for your time.")

As the interview wrapped up and the cameras stopped rolling, you began to gather your notes, relieved that everything had gone smoothly. But just as you were about to step away, Kylian leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing.

"On devrait refaire ça un jour, peut-être sans les caméras," he said, his eyes locking with yours.

("We should do that again sometime, maybe without the cameras.")

You felt your heart skip a beat, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned in a bit closer as well, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Seulement si tu promets d'être aussi charmant la prochaine fois," you replied, meeting his gaze with a spark in your eyes.

("Only if you promise to be just as charming next time.")

Kylian’s smile widened, clearly pleased by your response. "Je peux te le garantir," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of something more.

("I can guarantee that.")

As he straightened up, he added with a grin,

“Au fait, ton français est parfait. Très impressionnant.” 

("By the way, your French is perfect. Very impressive.")

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡

[jkkyks]

So here is the deal, if he stared at me like that, u might find me searching on our wedding venues and all yk. Just sayin

[insidekatmind]

Losing Bet- Jobe Bellingham

Wearning: +18, slight smut, english is not my first language.

It was the first of November, and Jobe had accepted his brother Jude’s challenge for the famous "No Nut November". As usual, Jobe was competitive, and losing to his older brother wasn’t an option. However, there was a problem: you

You knew that every time you wore a short dress or threw him a more provocative look, you’d drive him crazy. And while he was striving to stay true to his promise, you seemed to enjoy testing him without even realizing it. At least, that’s what he liked to think.

---

4 November: the beginning of frustration

Jobe was lying on the couch, his PlayStation controller in his hands, but his eyes weren’t fixed on the screen. They were pointed at you. You were wearing a black dress, just above the knees, and you were setting up the table for dinner. The light of the kitchen lit up your body, making your skin shine like silk.

"Can you stop walking back and forth like that?" he popped, without turning away.

You turned around, raised eyebrow. "I’m just setting. Problems?"

"You’re... too close," he muttered, looking down.

You smiled, putting a plate on the table with theatrical slowness. "Too close, Jobe? Don’t tell me this challenge is already weighing on you."

"Absolutely not!" he replied immediately, the tone too defensive to be credible. "It’s just... it’s not easy to concentrate."

"Focus on what? Beat your brother?" You looked at him with a mischievous smile, approaching to whisper in his ear. " You know you can’t win, right?"

Jobe swallowed hard. "You’ll see."

---

10 November: tension grows

Things were getting worse. Every innocent gesture of yours seemed to amplify his frustration. One evening, while watching a movie together, you leaned against his chest, playing carelessly with the edges of his sweatshirt. Jobe held his breath, trying to keep calm.

"Is everything okay?" you asked, looking up at him, your innocent eyes staring at him.

"Perfectly," he answered in a husky voice. But the blush on his face betrayed the truth.

"Are you sure? You’re a little... tense," you continued, sliding one hand down his arm.

"I’m fine," he insisted, but his clenched jaw and clenched fists said otherwise. In the end, he stood up sharply. "I must... drink water."

You followed him into the kitchen, watching him lean against the counter, taking a deep breath. "You know, Jobe, you can give up anytime. There is no shame in losing."

He turned to you, dark eyes shining with fierce determination. "I will not lose. Especially against Jude."

"Not to lose to Jude, or not to lose with me around?" you asked him, tilting your head.

Jobe puffed, his hand in his hair. "" You... are the problem."

You smiled, and approached him until you touched his chest. "" Me? I’m not doing anything." You looked straight into his eyes, your voice a whisper. " It’s just me."

---

25 November: the deadline

It was evening, and you were trying on a new dress. When you came out of the bathroom, you found Jobe sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in your hands. As soon as he saw you, his eyes widened.

"What do you think?" you asked, turning slowly. The dress was tight, perfectly wrapping your curves, and your skin shone in the soft light of the room.

"You’re... incredible," he murmured, but there was a note of suffering in his voice.

"Thank you," you replied, moving closer to sit next to him. You kissed his cheek gently, but he did not move. When you tried to pull back, his hand grabbed your wrist.

"You can’t do that," he said, looking at you with a seriousness that made you hold your breath. " You can’t be so... perfect and expect me to stay strong."

"Then surrender," you whisper, your face a few inches from his.

Jobe closed his eyes, struggling with himself. "No. I can’t. I won’t lose to Jude."

"But you’re losing with me," you replied, letting yourself fall gently on his knees, your hands slipping around his neck.

"You don’t play clean," he muttered, his trembling hands stopping on your hips. "And it’s not fair."

"Right?" you bowed your head, your hair touching his face. "It’s not a matter of right or wrong, Jobe. It’s just a matter of what you really want."

At that moment, his determination collapsed. His hands were squeezed around you, and his breath mixed with yours as his lips found yours with an urgency that he had held back for too long.

You started to rub your hand on his cock making him moan loudly while sucking his lip making him moan and making Jobe raise your dress with urgency. You smiled and unbuttoned his jeans and lowered his boxer shorts.

You put a hand around his cock that was very hard and started to saw it and Jobe moaning swearing but stopped your hand. He wanted to hear you, he needed to be inside of you.

You smiled and lined his cock in your pussy and both of you moaned as he tried not to close his eyes feeling like your pussy was squeezing his dick.

"shit, I missed that feeling," said Jobe moaning as he squeezed your ass and started lifting his hips to fuck you.

You moaned and started sucking his neck, driving him crazy. He started moving his hips faster while he occasionally slapped your butt as he grunted.

---

The next day, at breakfast.

Jude walked into the kitchen with a smirk at Jobe’s nipples on his neck. "So, little brother, did you resist?" he said sarcastically

Jobe looked up at you, who was smiling innocently as you drank your coffee. Then he sighed, looking down. "All right, I lost. Are you happy?"

Jude burst out laughing. "I knew it! And you were so sure. I just wonder what made you give in..."

"You’ll never know," said Jobe, glancing at you with a complicity.

Jude smiled and winked at you to thank you for making you laugh*

[judes-hoe]

Mbappe fluff one pls 🙏🏽

1. “Do you want the last bite?”

Kylian wasn’t the type to share his food, unless it was you. So while out at dinner with his friends he had orders this delicious looking pasta. He let you try it, he always lets you try his food, you loved it so much you didn’t even notice yourself staring at it every once in awhile. You had also ordered a pasta and let him try it. When he got down to the last little fork twist of his pasta he saw you eyeing it and looks at you. “Do you want the last bite?” He asked you softly. You looked at him then the fork and shook you head, he knew you wanted it and held it to your mouth. “Have it, please?” He said which made you open your mouth and eat his last bite. All his friends in shock at seeing him let you take not only one bite of his food but the LAST bite. “Ky the other day at training you wouldn’t even let me have a piece of fruit and you had like 10 pieces!” Achraf said with wide eyes. “Shes my princess have to make sure she eats good?” He told his friend while kissing the side of your head which made blush flush across your cheeks. You loved that he cared about you so much to share his food which he never does with anyone not even his last girlfriends.

Please request🫶🏻 inbox is open always even if it’s just to chat