#achraf x reader

[darlingmbappe]

Revenge Gift | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

— Click here for part 2! —

Summary: When Kylian leaves you high and dry, you decide on a leaving him a little revenge gift.

Warnings: Making out, sexy pictures, teasing, cussing, English is not my first language

Kylian was so happy to see you when you came over today. His face lit up the second he saw you, pulling you in for a long and deep kiss. You both had the afternoon off — a rare occurrence for your never ending clashing schedules — and these past couple of weeks have been especially busy. Working on a project in its preproduction stage comes a lot of late nights and even later mornings. Kylian turns in early and is up at the ass crack of dawn.

Besides the cheeky texts you’ve been sending back and forth, you two hadn’t had a chance to be intimate in a while. Quality time has been at an all time low, probably three weeks had passed since you’ve touched each other in that way. So, imagine how eager you two were when you quickly made it up to his bedroom.

“I fucking miss you,” he breathes between kisses on your exposed neck. You hum in response, too lost in feeling his bare chest against your skin to properly tell him you fucking miss him too. “You drive me crazy when you send me those sexy pictures.” Your hips grind against him while you sat on his lap, earning huffs and low moans from your boyfriend.

He played with the straps of your bra before losing them, following with a trail of kisses on your shoulder.

You huff out a laugh. “How do you think I feel when you send me thirst traps from the locker room, huh?”

Any other time he would deny that they were thirst traps and that you were just thirsty for him, but he only has one thing in mind right now. He reaches behind your back and begins playing with the clasp of your bra, a part he (shamefully) always struggles with. “Why don’t they use Velcro for these things?” He grumbled.

You giggle at him, reaching back to do it yourself. He sits back on the bed and prepares himself to just watch you, his eyes dark with lust and need. Just before you were able to unhook it, his phone starts ringing.

“Shit, sorry.” He reached for it on the nightstand. “Thought I turned that off.” Kylian looks at the caller ID and winces, looking up at you with I’m sorry eyes.

You shrug and drop your arms from your back, disappointed but understanding. “Go ahead, take it.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats before sliding the answer button, immediately sounding annoyed with the caller. You crawl off his lap and make yourself comfortable on the open side of the bed, waiting for him to do something about the throbbing in your core. “What? Today?” He exclaims, jumping out of the bed and begins looking for his something to put on. “I thought it was next week, why didn’t you text me?” He pulls the phone down from his mouth and mouths another ‘I’m sorry’ before putting his clothes back on.

He ends the call with frustration, turning to you with the face of the guiltiest man alive. You roll your eyes and huff, but ultimately realize that this is something he has to do, or else he sure as hell wouldn’t be leaving you alone in his bed right before you were about to get naked. “Go.” You force a little grin out for both your sakes.

“You know I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t have to—”

“I know, Ky. It’s okay, go.” You’re used to forcing the good sport attitude. It was a package deal while dating someone like Kylian.

“Please be here when I come back.” He begs, putting a baseball cap on and a T-shirt.

You stand up, trudging over to him and wrapping a loose hug around his waist. “If you’re back before six…”

He hugs you back, kissing you sweetly. “I’ll try my best, amour.”

You kiss him quickly before shoving him toward the door, his gaze lingered on your bare body for a long second, tutting and cursing under his breath, then forcing himself out of the house.

Once he left, you put on some comfy clothes, made some tea, and began watching a movie in his living room. It wasn’t even two hours later when you phone binged — a message from Kylian.

Kyks <3: what’s the latest you can stay over?

You immediately respond back

You: No later than 6:15

You watched the three bubbles appear before his response.

Kyks <3: fuuuuuuuucccckkk :,(

You frown, realizing that your day with Kylian wasn’t happening.

Kyks <3: I’m sorry amour, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.

Kyks <3: I love you

You: I know you will

You: and I love you too

With a long huff, you stand up and decide to just grab your things and go to your place before you had to head out to work, maybe change into a less itchy bra.

As you walked around kylians room to double check that you grabbed everything, a small black and white object on his dresser caught your eye — his Polaroid camera.

Interesting.

He was obsessed with it for a couple weeks before completly forgetting about it, leaving it to collect dust in his room. Picking it up, you saw he had three photos left in it, and you had a plan brewing. A small form of payback, if you will.

Shuffling back out of your clothes, you propped yourself on his bed, the camera lying next to you. Kylian had yet to see this set in full, so you might as well let him know what he walked out on.

With a quick reposition, you laid down on his silk pillows, squeezed your boobs together to create more cleavage, putting your hand lazily near your mouth.

Snap!

Next, you sat up on your knees, opening your thighs slightly to give him a better view of the black lace that was sewn on mesh at the middle, angling the lens downward at your body.

Snap!

With only one more left in the roll, you decide to show him a little more skin. Taking off your bra, you toss it aside, covering your nipples with your arm. Once you figure out the pose, you snap the last picture.

You put the developing pictures next to each other and shuffle back into your sweatpants and tank top.

Damn, you thought when they were funny developed. You looked so hot. You displayed them nearly on top of his pillow. Now that your satisfied with your teasing revenge, you gather your things and head home.

Around 8:30, the writers room was very unproductive. Everyone had all hit a wall and was out of ideas for the time being. Bouncing off one another felt pointless and everyone was a little frustrated. Usually while at work, your phone was on focus mode so you didn’t get off track, but you had resorted to playing a racing game while hoping inspiration for the script would drop from the sky. Just when you were about to beat your high score, you got a buzz in your phone with a message from your boyfriend. Then another. And another…

Kyks <3: you cannot do this to me right now baby

Kyks <3: you’re evil

Kyks <3: fuuuuccckk bebe I need you to come over right now

Kyks <3: I’m serious. U fucking tease

You bit back a laugh, wishing you could see his reaction in person.

You: I take it you like the pictures?

Kyks <3: I will pay you double whatever you make today if you leave work right now

This time you giggle out loud, catching the attention of your co-writers.

“Sorry,” you said through blushing cheeks. As you were about to put your phone down, you got another buzz. Though you thought about ignoring it, you decided to take a quick peek.

Holy shit.

Your extremely sexy boyfriend had taken a photo for you and you had to physically stop yourself from drooling, your face flushing with color as you took in the picture on your screen. The phone was now held close to your chest just in case anyone was peaking over your shoulder and saw the filthy shot.

His abs we’re on full display — he snapped the shot from his perspective as he laid down in his bed, a white towel hung low on his hips. Your Polaroids were splayed out across his covered leg and his hand covered his groin, large fingers wrapped around his covered member, showing off his perfect outline.

Kyks <3: I’m I gonna have to take care of myself? :(

Without thinking, you wrote back.

You: don’t you dare.

“You guys don’t need me tonight, right?” Your voice cracked. None of your coworkers said anything, just looked at you with a face that screamed ‘seriously?’ “Pleeease, you guys? I swear I’ll come in on Monday with donuts from Azúcar.”

That promise was enough for them to be okay with you leaving early. You texted Kylian back as soon as you gathered your things.

You: be there in 20

He took no time replying.

Kyks <3: counting down the seconds

—Requests are open for Kylian Mbappé!—

[judiepatootiesbababooboo]

SHES PURRING

[sorceresski]

This rondo between Neymar, Mbappé, Ramos and Messi with Hakimi in the middle has me dying. They really said teamwork😭

[spidybaby]

Flowers

Summary: Who would have thought some flowers can make that much drama.

Warnings: none, kinda angsty but fluffy.

A/N: I've been so busy with college that I feel bad for not posting. So here's this piece. Hope you like it 😀💛

Everything started with your friend giving you the idea of pranking Kylian, posting a story of some flowers with the caption "thank you baby ❤️"

At first, you didn't want to because Kylian was the kind of boyfriend to always give you flowers, taking you to dinner, doing little things for you.

But when the vacation started, he went to Miami with Achraf and Melissa. You declined his invite to go with him. Due to your work, you needed to be available for your coworkers since you were just promoted as a higher up.

Melissa was sad. It was her first vacation away from the kids and now away from you. You both became really close since you began dating Kylian.

Kylian is someone who girls always try to get with. Something you weren't to moved to, it didn't worry you. You trusted him, and he trusted you. It's teamwork.

Something that began to worry you was him not answering his phone, your texts, nothing. It was like he went ghost mode.

You thought it was because his data was not active or something, but then you saw the ig post. He has data to post, then he can at least dm you to let you know he was fine.

You didn't need him to be glue to the phone for you, but at least let you know he was fine. Only that.

So, you texted Melissa, asking her if she was enjoying the vacation, if she was tanning. But, she left you on read.

That's when the words of your friend made sound in your head. Was that a good thing to do?

"Of course it is. It's a harmless story, and you can even text him saying "thank you for my flowers while you're away." Your friend says, looking at the flower catalog. "So this peonies, please"

You open your phone just to see the seen texts. You didn't understand why he was acting like that. If he wanted a space free vacation, he could have said it.

"Okay, all done. Let's go." Your friend says, grabbing your arm to drag you outside of the store.

"Wait, did you pay?"

"Yes, you'll get them tomorrow."

You both ended up at some cafe, talking about the updates of your lives.

"Don't worry, if you're not comfortable with this, you don't have to do it." She says as she leaves you on the door of your house.

"I'll think about it."

You wave her goodbye as she drives off.

You went off with your night, didn't want to bother Kylian. Maybe he's busy and needs a breath from everything. Maybe he wanted to be alone for a while.

"Maybe you're too much for him," a voice in your head says.

Okay, no, you're not. If you were, he would not be with you.

You push all those thoughts out of your head and decide to sleep. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

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You saw the pictures he posted, the outfit you helped him put together. Yet he still hasn't answered your texts.

You take a look at your bouquet of peonies, you think a little bit before taking the picture. You add a white heart, uploading it to your story.

You send a pic to him over text, thanking him for sending them while he was on vacation.

You decide to turn off your phone as soon as you start receiving the notifications of instagram. You turn on your TV and start your favorite show, taking a caring only on the TV.

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Kylian was calmly talking with Achraf. They were going to dinner with some friends of him.

"Kylian, you're such a lover boy for your girlfriend." Melissa says, looking at your story. Kylian didn't understand, but he just nodded.

He got that type of comment from Achraf, too. He was kind of confused about why the sudden interest on him being a "good boyfriend."

It was not clear until Neymar texted him, asking him where he found the peonies, wanting to get some for his baby gender reveal and not being able due to the shortage of them.

He frowned, reading the text, Neymar attached a picture of your story.

You tag him in a story of a big bouquet of peonies thanking him. He never sent you that bouquet. He told Neymar that he will text him the info, but he didn't have any info to share.

He quickly noticed the text you sent him. "Thank you, mon amour. You're the best ❤️ I love peonies, and you know it 🥰" He tried to call several times. You didn't answer. It went straight to voice mail.

After that, Melissa asked him what was wrong, and when he explained, she tried to call you, nothing. Even Achraf gave his phone to Kylian, nothing.

He was worried. Who sent you flowers? Why would someone send you flowers? Were you aware he was not the one sending you flowers?

He stayed in, but for nothing, you weren't answering your phone.

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You turn your phone back on the next day. You needed to make some calls and send some emails so you will do it from your phone.

The first thing you saw was that you have 5 missed calls from Melissa, 8 from Kylian and even two from Achraf.

You also got a lot of texts. Even one from Bruna, Neymar's girlfriend, she was asking me to ask Kylian where he found the peonies. She wanted some for her gender reveal.

You answer her, giving her the info from the florist. And also assuring her that you will be at her gender reveal.

Another text was from Ethan, asking you to go out but using that insta story to deliver the message. You say yes.

And then a text message from your boyfriend. He was asking if you're available to call you. You wanted to say yes, call him and talk, but your toxic side says no. Let him overthink. So you ignored his, Melissa's, and Achraf texts. Instead, you call Ethan and tell him you'll pick him up to go to brunch.

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"You have to calm down." Achraf says, watching Kylian passing around the room, phone in hand. "Maybe you did send them, and you're forgetting it." He shakes his head no, he didn't. He would remember.

"I didn't."

"Ethan and her are going out." Melissa says, reading the text Fayza sent her. "They're going out for brunch."

"Why is she not answering my texts or calls then?" Kylian sat down, angry.

"Maybe because you haven't answered hers." Achraf points out.

Melissa agreed with him.

"But she told me she was going to be busy." He almost screamed. "I didn't want to distract her."

"Okay, but you even told Melissa not to answer her. Maybe she's mad at you."

And I was true, Kylian told Melissa not to bother you. Since you got your new work, you were busy, so he didn't want you to feel like you were pressured to do a lot of things at the same time.

"But.-"

"But nothing," Achraf interrupts. "Let's not worry, even if the flowers are from another dude, she thanked you. She's not thinking about anyone else."

They both shut his insecurities, and Melissa took his phone. She sent you a text saying sorry for not answering and sending you some pictures.

The rest of his vacation was weird, he keeps sending you texts, and you kept ignoring him but updating your social media.

Melissa and you talked, you told her about the plan you and your friend had. She laughed and told you it was all between you and her.

Kylian, on the other side, was overthinking. He wanted to go back to Paris and be with you. In the last few, he sent you different things. He sent you flowers, he sent you chocolate, he sent you your favorite food, and he sent you your favorite coffee to your work.

You find all that cute and funny. He was so jealous. Your friend and you enjoyed the moment. He was getting his own medicine.

The day of his return, you text him as if nothing happened. Asking if he wanted to be picked up by you.

He immediately say yes, asking you how you were, if you received his things, you just answered with a "see you at the airport, amour"

Making him worried sick. Are you mad at him? Are you breaking up with him? Are you mad about something else? Achraf made him stop, telling him he was overthinking.

The whole flight he was thinking about you, he even texted Ethan for help, asking him to reserve for a super fancy restaurant, to run to the jewelry for something special for you and even asked his mother to go with his brother to pick you a special dress for the night.

When he arrived, it was 10 am. Perfect time for him to rest and to be with you all day and have that special date at night.

You waited at the parking of the airport, his driver was there with you, since he sent him to get you. Due to the flight being private, you could wait there.

You see the plane landing, and your stomach is full of butterflies. You missed him, too much for you to admit outloud.

When Achraf and Melissa got out of the plane, you and Lana got out of the car. Lana ran to her mother, and you said hi to Hakimi. After lana and Melissa greet each other you hugged her.

When Kylian was down, he waited for you and Melissa to talk a little bit, hugging his niece. Melissa pointed with the head to Kylian, who has his eyes fixed on you.

"Hi," you say softly, hugging him tight. "I missed you." You kiss his cheek. He was happy to see you, his face buried in your neck, enjoying the perfume he loved so much.

"I miss you more," he kissed your neck, making shivers run down your spine. He can feel them. Loving how your body reacts to him. Only him.

"Let's go, lovebirds," Melissa says, laughing as she enters the car. "You can talk at home." You both laugh, Kylian kisses your lips and walks hand in hand with you to the car.

The whole trip to his home was them telling you about the trip, and Lana asked some questions to her mom.

"Text me when you're home." You say to Melissa, she was going to her house, leaving Kylian and you alone at his own house. "Bye, Lana." You both waved them goodbye and enter his house.

"Come here." You say closing the door. You open your arms to him, kissing his lips. "I missed you so much, you have to tell me everything."

"I had so much fun, we have to go together, again, it's such a vibe."

You both walked upstairs, he needed to rest and you were helping him with the suitcase. "Thank you," he says, looking at you organizing his stuff. "I have something for you."

"More?" You laugh. "All you did was send me things. You already gave me enough, Ky."

"There's never enough with me." The cocky tone of voice he's using is funny to you. Sometimes you forget your boyfriend is The Kylian Mbappé. "I even have a whole plan for us tonight."

"Kylian, you have to rest." You put the suitcase down, leaving it for later. You needed to cuddle him. "I love you, but you're probably tired. I want you to feel good for this new season."

"I'll do that, but I have to spoil my baby. If I don't do that, who will?"

You spend the day with him in bed, both resting and loving the time you have together. This tight schedule doesn't allow this kind of moment very often, so you both learned to work around it.

Spending every minute you can together, after practice, after every match, free days, holidays. Every second was important for you. Even if it was only a hug and good luck or if it was a whole night, you appreciated everything.

You went home to get ready, his driver telling you he was collecting you at six o'clock. You thank him and run inside your house to get ready.

The first thing you see when you walk inside is the big designer bags. You gasped, not expecting all that.

You open your phone to thank Kylian for the things, assuring him that I was too much for a date night and you'll make it up to him.

After a long shower, you did your makeup and style your hair, using the fragrance you know he loves and wearing the dress he gave you. It was a beautiful black dress, he also went out of the way and got you this diamond necklace that's the perfect match for one he owns.

The driver picked you up at the exact time. He was alone. On the seat was this other gift, you sigh. He's killing you with all the gifts.

The little note attached to the black box reads "Open me" next to a heart he obviously drew. Inside was this lock bracelet from Tiffany.

"You're just the best 😍" you text him with a picture of the bracelet on you.

He was so excited for you to arrive. His foot is moving with impatience. He wants you to know he's all you need.

He knows that he's going out his way, giving you a little more than necessary, but he has all the money in the world when it comes to you. Never checking the price tag. It was for you so he didn't care how much.

"Hey handsome, care if I sit?" You whisper in his ear, making he shiver. He gets up to pull your chair out for you. "Thank you, such a gentleman." You kiss his cheek before taking a seat.

"I just want you to know how much I love you." He says, sitting back on the chair. "I'll do anything for you."

"Even if that meant going bankrupt for me." You joke. He laughs loud, not caring about people or nothing. You love seeing him like that, so free, so happy.

"I'll give you everything you want."

"I know, you know I'll do that too, just not that crazy with diamonds. But I'm all yours if that make it up."

You both talk about everything and nothing at the same time, Kylian rambles about life, sports, and his family. And you do the same.

"You know what's funny?" You ask him, ready to confess the whole bouquet thing. Knowing all his doing is his normal self but also is a little him being jealous.

"Tell me, amour." He grabs your hands. Bringing them to his mouth.

"You did all of this for some flowers."

You don't miss the way his body pauses for a second. He's not making eye contact like before. "What?- What are you talking about?" He laughs nervously.

"You got jealous because someone sent me that bouquet, so you started to send me more flowers, some chocolate, food, coffee, you did all of this." You drink your wine, enjoying how his mind is working trying to make an excuse.

"I don't recall, maybe you're confused." He says, eating more of his food.

"So you don't recall calling me eight times because you didn't send me that beautiful peonies bouquet?" You ask again. He's just shaking his head and eating. "Well, I do, and I got to thank my friend for sending it."

He choke on a piece of stake, coughing dramatically. "You have to what now?" He asks after a big sip of wine.

You explain to him everything. He's embarrassed for believing you meant you weren't coming because you were so busy that you couldn't even answer his texts.

After reassuring him, it was okay, but agreeing on talking more openly when this kind of doubt ran his head. He apologized, and you did too.

With him, everything is easy. Talking, laughing, and loving. He's yours, and you're his. No matter the gifts , the trips, the busy schedule. He's yours and only yours yo admire, to love and to share a life with.

"Let's pay and go home, champ," you say, making a signal to the waiter to bring you the check. "I promise you I was making it up to you for all the gifts." You caress his hand with your nails. Thing that he loves.

"You know you don't have to."

"Oh, I want to." You intertwine your hands. "Hope you still have that Miami energy. You'll need it for the night."

[itsasainz]

Good Days | Kylian Mbappé x Reader

Summary: You and Kylian have been in a relationship for years now, and it’s nothing if not comfortable -- but there’s nothing like a pregnancy to switch things up.

Word Count: approx. 5.7k

Warnings/tags: pregnancy, toxic/unsupportive family dynamics, baby fever (I guess?), fluff, lots of fluff

A/N: this has been sat waiting to be edited for like 2 weeks lmao but I've been rly busy w exams -- ill probably start posting more writing next week when they’re done. in the mean time, if ur willing to wait a few days my  requests r still open <3

masterlist!

You stop for painkillers on the way home, unhappy with Paris' January rain and the biting wind that continued to torment your walk from the metro station to your apartment, missing Kylian's offers of picking you up from work so you could sit in his warm, dry car and complain about your boss – coming back from the away game had changed his training schedule, so he wouldn't get back until after you did.

At home, after taking the medication and making yourself some tea, you start on dinner, pushing through the cramps and headache that are currently plaguing you – a sign your period is around the corner, you guess, given that you're a few days late.

Kylian announces his arrival with a groan, dumping his bag in the hallway and making a beeline for you in the kitchen, stopping briefly to stroke the cat before wrapping his arms tight around you, face buried in the crook of your neck as he breathes you in for a minute, attached to your back while you try to keep chopping vegetables. "Y'alright, sweetheart? What's up?" You ask.

"Just missed you." he says, the sensation of him talking into your skin tickling you.

"Mm, even after a few hours?"

"Eight hours is more than a few." he insists.

You smile to yourself. "I love you."

"And I love you." he says, "How was your day?"

"Boring," you sigh, filling him in on your cramps, work drama and how your work friend had had another awful date the night before. He gives you more attention than your stories justify, shooing you away from the cooking the moment he hears about your headache, insisting you should just rest, reminding you that the two of you are meant to be babysitting tomorrow night. You sit on one of the stools, watching him cook with pure fondness, and laughing when he insists on eating in front of the TV.

With your plates left on the coffee table, he lies between your legs, absentmindedly stroking the cat while he lays his head on your chest as you watch a new Netflix film that neither of you are particularly interested in; he keeps trying to guess what will happen, and blushing when you tease him for his hilariously inaccurate predictions.

-

The nausea doesn't subside the next morning – not that you tell Kylian that – but it's relatively low-key, so you go to work anyway, smiling every time Kylian sends you an update on his day – a selfie of him and Hakimi, a photo of his lunch, a little rant about a pop song he can't seem to escape. You send him some of your own updates, despite the teasing you get from your friend when you send him a picture of you at lunch with her.

Amélie offers her sympathies over your apparent illness, agreeing that it's probably some combination of your period and a mild bug, though not without a throwaway joke about you being pregnant – "You and Kylian have been wrapping it before tapping it, right?" she had teased.

Leaving the café after parting ways with your friend, you began to wonder – you and Kylian had stopped using condoms pretty quickly after you got together, opting to rely on your birth control pill and his pullout game, but you found yourself wondering if you had forgotten any lately, or if it simply hadn't worked. But no, you weren't pregnant.

Nevertheless, you stop by the pharmacy on the way back to the office, buying a pack of two tests to take later.

You were jittery all afternoon, googling pregnancy symptoms on the toilet and asking your older colleague about her pregnancies, careful not to raise any suspicions.

When Kylian texted you to say he'd pick you up in five minutes, you put the tests at the bottom of your bag, not wanting to have that conversation with him until you'd confirmed that you weren't, in fact, pregnant. It would be a good way to bring the conversation about kids back up – just to check he still wanted them, and that you were still on the same page about leaving it for a couple of years.

He kisses you as you get in the passenger seat, leaving his hand on your lower thighs as he navigates the city, the conversation light.

Your brother drops your nieces off at your flat not long after you get home, the two girls are more than pleased to be spending time with their aunt and uncle. You love how much they love him, how they seem unable to stop laughing when he's near, or the fact that he let's them drag him into all kinds of silliness – tonight, they insist on giving him a makeover, asking you for nail polish and makeup while he sits in the living room, looking more than a little apprehensive. You give them some pink nail polish and some of your older, cheaper makeup, having learnt your lesson from the time the elder of the two, Rosie, bit through your favourite lipstick.

Rosie decides to start with eyeliner, while Poppy starts to cover Kylian's fingers with hot pink polish, getting as much of the stuff on his skin as on his nails, while he sits there and takes it, pouting when you giggle or take photos to send to your brother. The girls are having the time of their lives however, putting enough blush on his cheeks to turn him as red as their namesakes, highlight streaking over his cheekbones and lipstick getting almost to his chin with the messy application. His nails are all pink, as he obediently waits for them to dry while your nieces giggle and start trying to put it on each other – you only intervene when Poppy tries to use the nail polish as lipstick, opting to take it off them and let Kylian entertain them with something more suited to him – a game of hallway football – a favourite of everyone but the cat, who's hiding from the grabby hands of your nieces in your bedroom.

You persuade him to let you take a picture of his fully made up face, unable to stop laughing at the sight of him. If you are pregnant, you hope every evening is like this. You sit in the kitchen, listening to the loud smacks of the football against the wall as the two girls try to get the ball to hit the bedroom door behind him, Kylian doing his best to act as a goalkeeper. The shouts and gleeful cackles from the hallway make you smile – your brother has done so much to give his kids a better childhood than the one you shared, and suddenly you can't wait to do the same with Kylian. You sink down into the sofa, thinking of the pregnancy tests at the bottom of your handbag; you can already imagine the family Christmases, Kylian splurging on their birthdays and getting protective the moment their old enough to think about relationships; the kids' football games that they'll inevitably play in, the other mums being taken with him while you stand there, knowing he's yours.

You pull yourself from the thought, reminding yourself that you wanted to wait a couple of years and that the test was most likely going to be negative and your cramps were probably just your period.

"Auntie Y/N?" Poppy asked, apparently having left her sister and Kylian to the hallway football. You pick her up and change the TV from an adult comedy to a kids’ channel.

"Yeah, sweetie?"

She cuddles up to you, "Rosie says Uncle Kyky's famous."

You smile at her, nodding. “Yeah, he’s a pretty big deal.”

The toddler frowns, "Why?"

"Uncle Kyky plays football in big stadiums." you say, not entirely sure how to explain to a barely-three-year-old that her ‘Uncle Kyky’ is a world famous footballer when she barely knows what football is.

She frowns. "Can I be famous?"

"If you want to." you say.

"Are you famous?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"I don't really want to be." you say, "Uncle Kyky gets enough attention for the two of us."

She thinks about it for a long moment. "I think I pooped."

You're too busy laughing at the sudden switch up to be concerned with the fact that she's sat in your lap and may well have gotten poo all over your new jeans, your roaring laughter confusing her as it gets Rosie and Kylian's attention, the two of them appearing from the hallway, frowning at you as you lift Poppy off your lap, glad to see there aren't any stains on your clothes or the sofa. "God, that's stinky." you tell her, still laughing.

After getting her changed out of her poopy clothes and into her pyjamas, you start to wind down for the evening, trying to bore the two girls out so they'll go to bed; they do so eventually, Poppy snoring away on Kylian's shoulder as you watch some comedy, Rosie bright and attentive as Kylian takes her little sister to the spare room to go to bed. Rosie goes not long after, and you make sure to keep her as quiet as possible when you tuck her into bed beside her sister, the two girls curling up in the bed, a much too big king sized bed, and all those thoughts of parenthood come right back. This could be you and Kylian's life, everyday, poo and all.

In the living room, you lie with your head in his lap as he plays Fifa with the volume right down. He absentmindedly strokes your hair between games, sensing you getting more tired by the minute; eventually, he suggests you go to bed, making sure to leave the door to the spare room ajar in case the girls wake up, and joining you in the ensuite bathroom so you can brush your teeth together. You reflect, while listening to Kylian change in your room, that the night has been incredibly domestic, though in a way so different to your usual routines. You join your boyfriend in the bedroom and change into one of his tops.

"I'm gonna leave the door open in case one of them needs us." you say, conscious that they still wake up in the night fairly often, and Kylian beckons you to join him in bed, the two of you settling so that his bare chest is pressed into the cotton of your shirt, drifting off with his body heat encapsulating you, glad you don't have work in the morning.

-

When you wake up, Kylian's gone, a dent left in the mattress from where he had been; the clock says it's past ten, so you drag yourself out of bed and pull on some of his joggers, brushing your teeth while you check your texts, confirming that your sister-in-law would pick up the kids in forty-five minutes and seeing the results of one of the Premier League matches on your feed – your algorithm clearly aware of your vested interest in football. In the kitchen, your nieces are giggling their socks off at Kylian's poor attempts at flipping pancakes, each equally covered in Nutella from pancakes they had, apparently, already had.

"What's this?" You ask, alerting them of your presence.

"Pancake Saturday!" the three of them say in unison, as though it's completely obvious.

"Pancake Saturday?" You repeat.

"Papa always makes us pancakes on Saturdays." Rosie tells you.

"Does he?" You murmur, knowing that Kylian had been taken for a fool – your brother couldn't make a pancake if his life depended on it.

You move to the coffee machine, brushing sleep from your eyes, but Kylian stops you, pressing his lips to your forehead. "Your coffee's on the counter."

You smile, sipping it as Kylian successfully slips the pancake, eliciting a cheer from his audience. He gives it to you, so you join your nieces at the table and cover it in Nutella, rolling it and taking a bite, the chocolate spread sticky and runny from the warmth of the pancake.

When you've all stuffed yourselves with pancakes, you go to get the girls changed while Kylian washes up the mess he made, your nieces reeking havoc as you sort out their belongings, Kylian answering the door to their mum just as Rosie finishes ‘plaiting’  Poppy's hair, completely tangling it and nearly giving you an aneurism when you see the state of her hair.

Helene finds you brushing out the knot in her daughter's hair, Rosie watching curiously as though she's never seen a hairbrush before.

When they're gone, the flat feels utterly silent. Kylian cuddles up to you on the sofa, a residual smile still on his face from your babysitting fiascos. "Mm, I love you." he says, his hands flat on your back under your shirt, cold on your skin.

"I love you too. I love seeing you with them."

"One day our kids will be having sleepovers with them so we can have date nights like your brother." he tells you, making you smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I can't wait to have kids with you, but I'd need you all to myself sometimes."

You mull his words over. You'll need to take the pregnancy tests eventually, to find out whether there's any point to your theorising. "What do you want for lunch?" You ask, afraid to stay on the subject.

"I was thinking pasta." he says, words humming through your ribs.

-

You take the test that evening, while Kylian's on the phone to his nutritionist, already dressed for the dinner you're having with Achraf and Hiba, and nearly cry when it comes back positive. You're not sure how to feel, just that the two lines fill you with anxiety, and that you’re glad that, on some level, all the thoughts you’d been having about starting a family with Kylian weren’t for nothing. You stash the test at the bottom of your makeup bag, checking your lipstick as Kylian comes back into the bedroom, complimenting your dress, hands finding your hips as he kisses you.

"We need to go," you say, "The taxi's waiting."

He follows you out, letting you pull him out the flat and onto the street, but insists on opening the car door for you, always a gentleman.

The traffic is mild for a Saturday night, so you manage to get to the restaurant before your friends, though you're drastically slowed by a bunch of football fans who ask for Kylian's photo or signature, because Kylian doesn't have it in him to refuse. In the end, you're only waiting for Achraf and Hiba for a couple of minutes before they arrive, immediately diving into a story about their sons reeking more havoc – as always.

The waiter appears, asking for orders, taking everyone's food and drinks, and Hiba sends you a quizzical look when you order mocktail rather than your usual wine – you don't respond, just turning the conversation to an upcoming PSG dinner you're all meant to be attending. You can tell she's waiting to ask though, watching you like a hawk all night, right up until you head to the bathroom.

When you leave your cubicle to wash your hands, she's leaning on the edge of the sink. "Y'know, people pee a lot at the start of pregnancies, because your kidneys start producing way more liquids."

You start to wash your hands, "I knew you'd figured it out immediately."

"Does Kylian know?"

You dry your hands. "I've known for barely two hours, so, uh, no."

She smiles at you. "This is exciting – the boys will be so happy to have a new playmate."

"Hold your horses, I don't know what he's gonna say yet."

"He wants kids though, right?"

You shrug. "Yeah, we've talked about it, but we were – or are? I don't know – planning to wait a couple of years."

She nods. "You'll do what's best for you, you're sensible like that. Only you can tell you what to do with your body."

You think about it for a few long seconds. "Yeah. Yeah, I hope so."

"C'mon, they'll start thinking we've left if we don't go back."

The rest of the meal goes smoothly, with Hiba sending you subtle looks every time her sons are mentioned, making you all the more anxious to go home and talk this whole thing out with your boyfriend, whose hand seems to be permanently attached to your thigh.

Eventually, after splitting the bill and bidding farewells, you find yourself pressed into Kylian's side in the back of a taxi, internally cursing the horrid January cold, and after what feels like forever, you're changing out of your dress while Kylian is in the loo, talking to you while he washes his hands.

You come into the bathroom while he's drying them, smiling when he greets you with a peck to your cheek, preemptively handing you your makeup wipes: always knowing your next move.

Bored, he starts to inspect the products in the bathroom cabinet, picking them up to read the labels while you exfoliate, watching him out the corner of your eye, seeing him get slowly closer to the makeup bag where the positive test is stashed, unsure whether or not to stop him before he discovers it.

"What's retinol?" he asks, picking up a small bottle.

"It keeps your skin clear." you say, not sure how to explain it because you're not really sure yourself.

"Doesn't, like, everything in this cabinet do that?"

"No." you say weakly, making him chuckle.

You hear the clatter of your makeup bag being picked up, and the sound of different objects knocking together. "What's – oh."

You turn around; he's staring at the test, apparently dumbfounded. You feel yourself blushing, unsure how to navigate the moment. "Yeah. I took it just before we left earlier."

He looks up at you, still in shock, yet to say anything. "That's why you ordered the mocktail."

You giggle. "It's also why Hiba took me hostage in the bathroom."

"We were wondering where you'd gone," he admits. "What are you going to do?"

You stare at him for a few seconds before correcting him. "What are we going to do?"

He holds your gaze. "It's your body, not mine. You know I'd love to have this child, but that's not my decision to make."

You can feel the tears threatening to spill – why do you have to decide? He wraps his arms around you, encasing you in his scent, overwhelming you. Tentatively, you wrap your arms around his waist. "You don't have to decide now," he reminds you, "You have time."

You nod, inhaling deeply. "Do you want this? Like, really truly want this?"

He pulls back so he can look at you properly. "I love you, and I would be happy either way, but I'd love to have this child with you – I'd love to."

You nod. "I can't believe I'm gonna be a mum."

His face breaks into a smile, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, fuck yeah."

He kisses you, keeping you close. "God, I'm so excited."

You can't help but smile at the thought of him, a dad.

"Can we go to my parents' house tomorrow? To tell them?"

You nod, still crying.

-

Fayza is delighted to have you both over again, asking about your siblings and nieces, apparently forgetting that her son is standing beside you, sulking about not being the centre of attention. She offers you wine, and frowns but doesn't push when you refuse, then cooks the best meal you've had in months. Ethan greets you when he gets back from seeing his friends, taking the first opportunity to take the piss out of his older brother. You're happy to watch the family be amongst themselves, wondering about what they'll be like with the baby, how they'll react, what they'll say and ask.

You're sort of waiting for Kylian to bring it up – it's his family, after all, but it's starting to feel like it'll never happen. As always, he senses your anxiety, squeezing your hand under the table while you all eat, earning a shy smile. Ethan raises an eyebrow at the interaction, pausing his eating. "Okay, seriously – what's going on?"

Kylian clears his throat. "Uh, well, Y/N and I are expecting."

"'Expecting'?" Ethan repeats. "What are you, fifty?"

"Oh piss off," Kylian groans, rolling his eyes, "There go your chances of being the godfather."

Fayza is staring at you. "You're serious? You're pregnant?"

You nod slowly, relief washing over you as she smiles, getting up from her seat to hug you, congratulating you as she does so.

Later, as you're sitting watching the news, Kylian's dad clears his throat. "You'll need to announce it at some point."

Kylian glances sideways at him, his arm over your shoulders. "We have time – I don't want to rush into any announcements. It needs to be as smooth as possible, right?"

"Stress is bad for the baby!" Fayza chides, appearing from the kitchen with a cup of herbal tea for you.

"Stress is bad for the baby." Kylian repeats, making his dad chuckle.

"Of course, take your time, talk to the media team at PSG and all of that, but I'm just reminding you."

You sip the tea, holding the mug in one hand while you google how far into pregnancy you're meant to stop having caffeine and finding out you're now limited to only two cups a day – less than 24 hours into getting the positive test, and you've already had to say goodbye to smoking, drinking, sushi and salami, and – less reluctantly – cleaning out the cat's litter box, and finding out you'll have to get a handle on your caffeine addiction is only more upsetting. Kylian kisses your hairline, "Thoughts?"

"About announcing?"

He hums.

"I don't know. We've always been private, and I don't think I want the world to know about this just yet."

"We'll wait as long as you like, chérie."

You press closer into his body. "That doesn't mean you can't tell your mates though, you know."

He makes another noise of agreement. "Are you tired?"

You nod, thankful that he noticed your fatigue.

"We'll go soon."

-

You’re sitting in the office, scrolling through a webpage about the first trimester of pregnancy, looking up every few seconds in case one of your colleagues walks past, curiosity overcoming your concerns about having your pregnancy discovered prematurely. You’re still fatigued, and the morning sickness is starting to ramp up, but it’s not too bad – not bad enough that you feel like you can’t go to work, anyway. The time in the corner of your screen reads at quarter past five, so you decide to call it a day – you’re going to your brother’s house to announce the pregnancy, and the traffic will make it a forty minute drive.

“Where are you off to?” asks your older colleague from two desks away, Cynthia.

“My brother’s,” you say, “I’m getting picked up in a minute.”

She leans back in her chair as you shrug on your coat. “Ah, the footballer.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Cynthia, the footballer.”

“Hmm, I don’t know why you’re still working when your man’s on a €90 million salary.” she muses.

“Believe it or not, I quite like working here.” you say teasingly.

She frowns. “The boss isn’t here, there’s no need to lie.”

You laugh, gathering up the last of your belongings and checking you’ve got your phone and keys. “See you tomorrow, Cynthia.”

She salutes you as you head to the list, checking your notifications – Kylian’s outside, and your parents have announced on the family group chat that they are coming to dinner with your brother after all.

Kylian kisses you as you get in the car, smiling as you settle into the passenger seat beside him and reminding you to do your seatbelt.

“So, my parents are coming after all.” you say, earning a badly stifled groan. “I know, I know. They want to see the girls before they go to Rome.”

You divert the conversation from your parents to ask him about his day, listening to his stories about tripping Hakimi up in a drill and the conversation he had with Marquinhos after training. “Oh, and my mum dropped by this afternoon,” he says, “she had a load of pregnancy books from the 90s, and one of those name dictionaries.”

You smile at the thought. “I’ll ask my brother if he has any more modern books.”

He squeezes your knee, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

You nod, “Jesus, I know. I can barely look after myself – I have no clue how I’m going to look after a whole other human as well.”

“We’ll figure it out, chérie.” he assures you, pulling into your brother’s neighbourhood and finding a parking space a few houses down.

“My parent’s car’s already outside.” you say, trying to hide the frustration in your voice. It was fair to say your relationship with your parents hadn’t always been smooth sailing – moving out at eighteen had made your life a thousand times easier – it was easier to love them from a distance. Sure, they were still fairly local, but their decision to move 90 minutes from Paris at least put some distance between you.

“I wonder if they’re staying over?” Kylian asked as you approached the driveway, walking between the two parked cars and ringing the doorbell. You could hear the distinctive peals of laughter from your nieces as the heavier footfall of your brother sounded through the house as he came to open the door, greeting you both and putting your coats on hooks. You pushed your shoes off and made it into the living room, where your nieces were running circles around your mother, who went to hug you immediately, kissing you on each cheek and leaning back to look at you, her hands on your arms. “Is that how you wear your hair these days?”

You can practically feel Kylian tense beside you. Your father interrupts the tension completely obliviously, barreling in from the kitchen to greet you both, distracting your mum from her nitpicking by not-so-subtly sneaking his granddaughters some sweets as you ask them about their weekends. She starts to fuss, allowing you a moment to breathe as your dad traps Kylian into a conversation about football.

In the kitchen, Helene looks just about ready to pull her hair out as she fusses over timings, your brother dressing a salad beside her; she kisses you on each cheek and rejects your offer of help, insisting she’s got it all covered.

“Y/N, ma chére, doesn’t Kylian have a match tomorrow?” your mum asks, an unsubtle way of asking if he has to be here.

“Well that doesn’t mean he can’t eat dinner.” you say, turning to your brother, “Did I see what I sent you about his nutritionist’s instructions?”

“Yeah, and I told you not to worry about it,” he says, “We’re perfectly capable, you know.”

“I know Helene’s capable, the verdict’s still out on you.”

He makes a face at you, rolling his eyes as he looks away. Your mum sips her wine, “Y/N, how’s Kylian been since, you know, the World Cup?”

You make eye contact with your brother. “Why don’t you ask him, Mum?” he asks.

“I don’t want to overstep. Y/N?”

“Well, we have been together for nearly-”

“I meant about the World Cup. How is he?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s been tough, but he’s alright. Been spending lots of time with Achraf.”

“Ah, the other footballer.” your mum says, sipping her wine again.

Your dad comes in from the living room. “Y/N, Kylian is so good with the girls.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know.” you say, “What drinks do you have?”

“Alcohol or not?” Helene asks you, reaching for the bottle of wine.

“Uh, non-alcoholic, I’ll probably be driving.”

She nods, “There’s some coke in the fridge, or juice, or water?”

You get yourself some water, peeking through the door at Kylian, who’s being wrestled by Rosie and Poppy, apparently taken aback by their strength-to-size ratio. You lean in the doorway, watching them for a moment before your mum distracts you, instructing you to lay the table while your brother gets out the glasses. In your typical fashion, the two of you bicker through the whole process, the kitchen becoming more crowded when Kylian brings in your nieces, who insist on the attention of their grandparents and keep trying to sneak food.

Once you’re sat at the table, sandwiched between Kylian and Rosie, you start thinking about how to go about announcing it; how do you segue into the topic? How do you do it without inviting criticism about the timing or the fact it’s unplanned.

You can feel Kylian’s nerves beside you, now in the exact position you were in only days ago. Rosie takes a potato off your plate, biting into it before you’ve realised she’d grabbed it. Helene starts to laugh, gently scolding her daughter through the table’s laughter. “God, one of the hardest things about having kids was learning to share food, you know.” your mum muses, “Your brother was such a little thief.”

He looks over at her, “Maybe I was hungry?”

“I don’t know, you were always more interested in eating from anyone’s plate but your own.”

“I wonder where Rosie gets it from.” Helene jokes.

You look over at your mother, sitting at the head of the table. “So, Y/N, how’s work? Any promotions we should know about?”

“Uh, no, it’s the same as ever.” you say, sensing the beginning of an interrogation.

“Well there must be something.” she says, continuing even when you shake your head. “D’you know, I worry that all of that academic talent just went nowhere after you graduated.”

“Mum, it’s not like my job isn't challenging.” You defend.

She hums, “Well, I just think if you’re waiting a few years to have kids –” she sends a pointed look at Helene – “you might as well push in your career.”

“Well, Mum, actually-”

“After all, we can’t all be lawyers,” a pointed look at your brother, “or footballers.”

You swallow, listening as she keeps pressing on about your lack of ambition, feeling Kylian’s hand find yours under the table. “Mum, I’m pregnant.”

The table ruminates in your outburst for a long few seconds. She stares at you, trying to compute your statement; your dad is the first to move.

He stands up, coming around the table and beckoning for a hug; you push the chair out and accept his embrace, appreciating his congratulations. By the time he’s stopped hugging you, Helene and Y/B/N are kissing your cheeks and asking questions – how far along are you? How long have you known? How did you find out?

Your mum is the last to congratulate you, pressing her hand to your stomach. "I'm telling you now, it's a boy."

"Mum, it's like the size of a sesame seed." you groan as you all sit back down.

She shrugs. "You know, I thought you'd gained weight."

"Jesus, Mum, give her a break!" your brother groans, earning an appreciative smile from Kylian – who you think must have had enough of your family's shit to last him for the next year.

“So you’re getting married now, right?”

“Mum!”

In the car on the way home, he turns to you. "God, they’re a lot.”

“My mum’s a lot.” you correct. “It’s not the worst it could have gone.”

He sends you a pointed look – you know how he feels about your parents, but you’ll always maintain your line; it’s easier to love them from a distance.

-

At lunch with Amélie the next day, after you tell her the excitement of the week and mention that you're four weeks pregnant, she sets her gin and tonic on the table, one brow raised. "Wait, that means this kid was conceived while you guys were in Qatar."

You do the mental maths. "No, wait, holy shit."

She smirks, raising her gin and tonic as toast. "This kid's so fucking lucky already, man. Imagine being able to say you were conceived at a World Cup."

“Imagine being able to say your dad is the Kylian Mbappé.”

She shrugs, “Hey, you can literally tell people he’s your baby daddy, I don’t want to hear it.”

You smile at the thought. “I can’t believe I’m pregnant. There’s literally a foetus inside me right now.”

She glances down at your stomach. “I can’t believe you're pregnant. I swear we were like eighteen living off pot noodles like a week ago.”

You smile at the thought of your university days – pre-Kylian, independent for the first time, figuring out how to function independently. “Don’t make me feel old.”

She grins, “In a year, when you’ve given birth and recovered and everything, we’ll go clubbing.”

“I don’t think I’ll be up for clubbing when I’ve got a three-month-old or whatever, but we’ll make our own fun.” you point out. “I hope it’s a cute baby.”

She frowns, “Fuck that, I hope they’re a funny kid. I would not want to carry a child for nine months, push it out of my vagina and then look after it for years only for them to be a boring twat.”

You return her frown. “I’m glad you’re not the pregnant one.”

She raises her glass again, “Preach.”

-

“How was lunch with Amélie?” Kylian asks midway through an episode of Love is Blind.

“Good, she’s well. D’you know what she pointed out?”

“Hm, what?”

“The baby must’ve been conceived in Qatar.”

He looks over at you, also doing the maths. “After the England game?”

“That’s what I thought.” you said, “Funny, huh?”

“He’s a winner, at least.” Kylian says. “Gonna be a footballer.”

“‘He’?”

Kylian shrugs. “I think so.”

“Well at least you and Mum agree on something.” you tease.

Somehow, he’s always right.

[graveyardvalentinee]

I have an idea: What about Ney and the reader fighting about something dumb maybe like he is not helping around the house even when she asks. Kylian and Hakimi are trying to make peace, and they say something like, "So you guys wanted to tell us something," and Ney "Oh yeah, we are engaged" ❤️

yesss thank you so much for the request i love it!!

————————————

surprise / neymar jr

pairing : Neymar x reader

“Food is ready!” I hear Neymar call from the kitchen.

He insisted on cooking tonight , he even decided to invite Kylian and Hakimi over so that he could tell them the secret we’ve been keeping in.

Me and the guys walk into the kitchen , Kylian and Hakimi snickering at Neymar’s cooking attire - a hot pink apron with the words “kiss the chef” on it.

“I assume the apron is hinting at Y/N - unless you’d want Hakimi to go up there and give you a nice smooch brother.” Kylian says through laughter.

I can’t help but laugh myself too.

“Alright alright laugh all you want - but yes the apron is hinting towards my beautiful girlfriend.” Ney says walking in my direction and giving me a short kiss.

“Girlfriend hmm?” I whisper in his ear

“The reason why I invited them over is to tell them querida. Go and get the ring from upstairs - I want to announce it before we begin eating.” He chuckles in my ear giving my hip a slight squeeze.

We turn around and see Hakimi fake throwing up in the sink with Kylian holding a hand covering his mouth as if he’s about to barf too.

“Total drama queens.” Neymar whispers to me.

“Okay okay are we going to eat or not ? Or did you just make us come all the way over here to remind us we’re desperately single?” Kylian says , rolling his eyes jokingly.

[ let’s pretend like Hakimi is single ]

“We will eat - soon. Me and Y/N have an announcement to make before.” Neymar excitedly says. He’s been dying to tell anyone about our engagement.

Hakimi groans loudly and throws his arms up in the air. “Kylian we should have just gotten something on the way if we knew chef Neymar would make us wait this long for one meal.”

“I’ll be right back and then we can eat.” I say going up the stairs laughing , still hearing the guys complain to Ney about the wait on the food and how they’ve been waiting since practice to eat.

I find the beautiful ring and slip it on , I look over to the picture of me and Neymar on our first date in Brasil.

I smile remembering how he wanted out first official date to be in his homeland , we had asked a local at the beach to take a picture of us with the gorgeous sunset in the back , Ney standing behind me with his arms around my waist and his face buried in my neck - and me holding his arms smiling into the camera.

But my smile dies down when I see that Neymar still hasn’t fixed his clothes.

He has one job - one. And it’s been 3 days , that clothes has been laying there for 3 days.

I do the laundry and he puts away only his portion of the clothes. It’s simple.

But no. He can’t do that can he?

Every single time I have to remind him.

Sometimes I even do it for him- but no. Not anymore.

I know it’s stupid to get mad over it but it’s the only job he has around the house. And it’s tiring that he doesn’t even do the one simple task I ask of him.

I storm down the stairs.

“Neymar Da Silva Santos Junior! You have one job around here. You can count on one hand the job you have around this house - because it’s only ONE - and it’s to put away your clothes. It’s the third day it’s been there and I know you see it every time you walk into our bedroom.” I say marching into the dining room where I spot Neymar sitting at the end of the table.

“What? Y/N what are you talking about?” He says , genuinely looking confused.

Is he serious ?

“What am I talking about ? I’m talking about your stack of clothes that’s been sitting in the room for days. All you have to do is pick it up and put it away. It does not take more than 5 minutes of your day.”

“Oh yeah the clothes. Eh I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow ? Really. You always say that. But what do you do instead ? You go and play poker as soon as you get home - or you play that stupid video game your obsessed with.” I say scoffing.

“Y/N that is not true! If it wasn’t for me we wouldn’t have this house.” He argues back , raising his voice just a bit.

“Guys calm down , let’s just eat.” Hakimi interjects

“Yeah come on Y/N have a seat - let’s enjoy what Neymar cooked.” Kylian says calmly.

“I know that Neymar! And I am extremely proud of you and grateful for everything you’ve done for the both of us but accomplishing all of that comes with responsibilities- and one of those is doing the simple task of putting your clothes away.”

“Why are you scolding me as if you are my mother!” Neymar scoffs getting up from his seat.

“Guys let’s just both sit down-”

“If I wasn’t here to tell you it would sit there collecting dust.” I laugh bitterly , looking at Neymar angrily.

“Let’s be reasonable both of you-”

“Maybe I would want it to!” Neymar shoots back at me.

“Well that’s just great isn’t it ? Have fun wearing dusty disgusting clothes.” He’s getting on my last nerve.

“I sure will. I’ll look utterly amazing -” he tries to continue arguing with me until Kylian interrupts him.

“Can the both of you please sit down and be quiet!”

I huff and take a seat next to Neymar - the only available seat. He huffs even louder and sits back down scrapping his chair against the marble floor.

“Really ? You just had to do that ?” I say annoyed.

“Another thing to add to the list of things I do that annoy you huh?” He says cocking his head to the side and giving me a look.

“Oh yes the list just keeps piling-”

“Don’t you two have news for us! Id love to hear it!” Hakimi says loudly - fronting a nervous smile , looking between both of us.

I turn to look at Neymar and see his face emotionless.

“Surprise!” He says sarcastically, lifting my hand in the air and displaying the beautiful diamond on my finger for the guys to see.

“Y/N and I got engaged, but after her remarks about me I’m not sure she wants to be engaged to me.” He says nonchalantly.

“That is not true! I just don’t like how I have to remind you to do a simple thing a child could do.”

Hakimi and Kylian both look at each other speechless.

“Holy shit man! You finally did it. Congratulations to the both of you!” Hakimi happily says , getting up and patting Neymar on his back , also giving me a hug and examining the ring on my finger.

“Y/N you have no idea , this man’s been planning the proposal for months ! Asking us our opinions on rings and where to do the proposal. He’d be pacing around the locker rooms asking Messi how he proposed to Antonella just to make the proposal perfect.” Kylian says next - lightly laughing giving Neymar a tight hug , and me a hug and kiss on the cheek.

Suddenly hearing that makes the whole situation that happened 3 minutes ago erase from my mind.

“You really did all that ? For me ? For us ?” I ask looking into his piercing eyes.

“We’ll leave you two.” Kylian and Hakimi both say disappearing into the backyard.

“Of course I did all of that for you. I’d do anything for you Y/N - just to be able to call you my wife. To be able to wake up next to you every day and be able to call you mine - and hopefully in the future be able to call you the mother of my kids. Because I love you , and I plan on loving you for the rest of my life. Nothing could ever change that.” He says walking up to me and cupping my face.

“And I promise you from now on I’ll fold all the clothes - even yours. Hell , I might even learn how to the laundry for you.” He says chuckling , resting his forehead on mine.

“I love you - so so much. More than you’d ever know Juhnino , and you’ll have me forever - because I want us forever. Not even a stupid argument over you putting away your clothes could change that.” I say softly laughing and connecting our lips.

“But I think I’ll stick to washing the clothes amor , I don’t want to have a broken washing machine when we just got that one.”

He shakes his heads and laughs , kissing me once more with passionately.

I’ll never get tired of his kisses.

“Are you two finally made up? Because that whole thing took away 10 extra minutes of my appetite away.” Hakimi says coming back into the kitchen with Kylian behind him.

“You know how he gets when he doesn’t eat - it’s not pretty.” Kylian whispers to me and Neymar.

“I heard that! Don’t forget who’s the one that got nutmegged today in practice.”

“We’re here to celebrate Y/N and Neymar’s engagement not talk about football.”

“Yeah yeah keep making up excuses - you know I got you good.”

Kylian rolls his eyes and we all sit down and start eating.

We talk about all the wedding plans Neymar and I already have , like a wedding in Brasil and one here in Paris. Or how we want two honeymoons - depending on Neymars schedule.

“I can’t believe he finally did it. You two complete each other , and we can all clearly see it. We’re both so happy for you.” Kylian says , Hakimi just hums with a mouthful of food.

“She’s just everything I could have ever asked for.” Neymar says holding my hand and running his thumb over my knuckles.

I lean over and kiss his cheek , realizing this life ahead of me is everything I could have ever wanted and more , with the man of my dreams by my side.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

again , thank you so much for this request ! I hope you enjoy it <3.

[darlingmbappe]

Oh, Baby | Kylian Mbappé x Fem reader

Summary: When the condom breaks, it’s a race to get you a Plan B. In the meantime, Kylian gets to thinking about your future together.

Warnings: Mentions of sex and nudity, broken condom, potential pregnancy scare, taking contraception, cussing, google translated French, English is not my first language. Let me know if I missed anything.

Note: I posted this on my old account before I restarted with this one. I didn’t have any other ones there so I just decided to repost this one here! :)

Kylian lazily kissed your neck, his weight now engulfing you, the synchronization of your panting turning into giggles.

“Tu es incroyable.” You’re incredible, he mumbled, his member softening inside you. You smiled sheepishly just thinking about how roughly he took you just now. He praised and used you so perfectly, and now he pressed loving smooches across your face, smiling against your lips when he felt yours curl up. “Je t'aime.” I love you.

It seemed hilarious now thinking about how hard you tried to talk yourself out of dating this man when you first met him two years ago. Thinking about your life without him seemed so wrong and depressing, it was almost impossible to do.

“I love you, too.” You whispered against his lips.

He grunted lowly as he lifted his body off you a bit to pull out of you, but his face turned from love stricken to panic in half a second. “Merde…”

“What? What happened?”

He rolled off of you and looked down, you followed his gaze as well. Now, your face matched his.

Oh, fuck.

The condom had ripped. It only held onto him by the bottom seam, the rest is a goddamn mess.

“How…” you gulped, “how did that even happen?” Both of you were aware that you weren’t on birth control. You tried it at the beginning of the relationship but it lowered your sex drive so much amongst other tricky side effects, it seemed unnecessary having so many other options for safe sex.

“I don’t know, chérie.” He huffed, taking it off and running to the bathroom. “Fuck…”

You quickly follow, putting on a T-shirt that was on the floor. Kylian had his hands on top of his head and began pacing, clearly stressed about what had just happened.

“Hey,” you put a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart through his skin, “it’s okay, bébé. I’ll just go get a plan B. It’ll be fine, alright?”

He looks at you and nods, letting out an exasperated huff. “Yeah. Of course. It’ll be fine.” He takes the bait, rubbing your arms, kissing your forehead, but not sounding too convinced.

Neither of you were ready for a kid. His career was in full speed. He had commitments constantly and barley found enough time to spend with you. Juggling all of this seems unhealthy for a young couple, but in this relationship, that worked. You moved to Paris to kickstart your own career, and now, you were finally on the come up. Both of you had a good rhythm going and understood how important your respective jobs were. Add a baby to this mix? The whole system is fucked.

You hopped in the shower as Kylian called his personal assistant to get you the pill and bring it to his home. As soon as he hung up, he opened the shower door, hopping in without even asking. His arms snaked around your waist, holding you close as his head rested against your neck, the hot water battering your back. The stress radiated off of him like steam. It was like you could hear his mind whirling.

“You just raw-dogged me, Mbappé.” You giggled, trying to lighten the mood. He looked up, sneering at your with a grin he couldn’t hold back, shaking his head at your vulgarness. You took his face in your hands, kissing his pouty lips. “Look, the pill is, like, 99% effective, or something. We don’t need a mini Kylian running around. Lord knows that thing would be a kicker, too.”

He smiled sweetly. “That’s what I’m worried about. Knowing my genes, my sperm is the fastest sperm on earth. What if you’re already pregnant?” You laughed at his cocky comment, letting go of his grip and grabbing your loofah, but not before jutting out your stomach and rubbing it like you were with child.

“I think your right.” You joked. He stared at you in admiration, loving that you were making light of the situation. One of you had to think rationally. “I feel a little Ninja Turtle forming already.”

After the shower, you both got dressed comfortably, lying back in bed and turning a movie on. Kylian cuddled at your side — his head on your chest, his hand on your stomach tracing patterns under your shirt periodically.

Eventually before you dozed off, you heard a knock on the door. You shot up, not having a chance to feel bad about shoving Kylian off of you and made your way to the door. His assistant smiled and handed you a brown paper bag. With a quick and genuine ‘thank you’, you make your way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Kylan lingered behind you, leaning against the countertop. “Is that it?” He took the bag from your hand, opening it up and pulling out the individually packaged pill.

“Yep.” You reached over him to grab a glass, then turned to read the back of the package along with him. “Look,” you point to the small print, “Efficace à 97% si pris dans les 72 heures suivant la fin.” You read out loud. 97% effective if taken within 72 hours of conception. “See? We’re gonna be okay.”

Kylian was quiet as he looked at the words written on the flimsey cardboard. You pour yourself some water, filling his glass too, and take the package from his hands, opening it and putting the pill in the palm of your hand. Just as you were about to put the pill in your mouth–

“Wait!” Kylian grabs your wrist, stopping you.

“What?”

“What if… you don’t take it?” He cheekily asks, bringing himself closer to you.

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Then I might get pregnant? That’s kinda the whole point of–”

“No, no. I know. But, what if you don’t take it?” He asks again, now placing both his hands on your hips, hugging you loosely.

“Are you trying to suggest that we have a baby right now, Ky?” You ask gently, but your tone full of surprise. He shrugs, a smile making his way full force across his face. “I don’t get it. You were just freaking out about the broken condom.”

He shrugs again, rubbing your hipbones with his thumbs “I’ve been thinking about it…”

“…for, like, thirty minutes…”

“More like forty five.” You roll your eyes at his correction, but let him continue. “(Y/N). I love you, so, so, so much. I want a life with you. A full life — one that has a little-mini-version of the both of us running around. We could be a family. I mean, we have so much room in this house, we’re financially stable, we’re so in love with each other. It’s perfect. Maybe it’s a sign. We could start the rest of our lives today.” He sensed your apprehensiveness. “If you want to get married first, and all… we can do that. I know it’s probably not how you planned it but, it’s definitely not how I did either. Why don’t we just see if anything happens?”

Your heart melted with his words and the way he was looking at you. “Kylian… I don’t know. It takes a lot more than just a little bit of thinking for a decision this big. I mean… it’s a baby. An entire baby.” You reason, setting down ur glass of water and hugging him back, making sure your words came out gently. “These things cry and barf and scream and shit their pants daily…” He chuckled. “And then they grow up and start sticking their fingers in electrical sockets… and then they grow up even more and get all, you know, angsty, and… not to mention that we’d have to put our careers on hold for a while. And we don’t even live together yet. You really think we’re ready to have a baby together?”

“Then move in with me.” He blurts, ignoring the rest of your reasons. Your eyes widen, opening your mouth and shutting it quickly. “I’m serious, chérie. Come live with me here. You basically do already.”

His eyes were twinkling with love, and you look right back at him with the same expression. “Kylian,” you chuckle excitedly, tightening your grip on his stomach a bit. “You’re not just asking me because you think I’m pregnant right now, right?

“Non, non, of course not, bébé. I’ve been wanting to ask for a while.” He begins swaying both your bodies back and forth slightly, clasping his hands behind your back.

They way you’re looking up at him makes him swoon. “You also kind of just proposed to me.” He laughs at himself, hiding his face in your shoulder. He tends to get carried away, only sometimes. When he decided on spontaneity, he goes all or nothing. “But…” You move so his blushing face looks back at yours, “Okay.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Okay?”

“Yes, okay.” You smile big, just like him. “Yeah… to the moving in thing.” You specify, reaching up and kissing him. “How about we just start there. We have so much time to figure out the rest.”

He nods, giddy like the day you agreed to be his girlfriend. “We have the rest of our lives.” He kisses you once more before you let go of him, grabbing your water.

His face, while smiling, seemed a little disappointed. You know Kylian would never make this decision for you but you were happy to have this conversation. You’d talked about a future together before, sure. But, this one felt very real, not like some distant thing that eventually you’d get serious about.

“I love you so much, Mbappé. You know that, don’t you?” You stared at his features, your heart skipping at the man in front of you.

He hums sweetly in response, watching you down the pill.

“What happens if we’re the 3%?” He asked, taking your empty glass and setting in the sink for you.

“What do you mean?”

“It said 97%…” He leans in once more, getting close to your face and putting his warm hands on your stomach. “I feel like my sperm has a chance.” You roll your eyes as his hands travel down and back to grab two handfuls of your ass, squeezing suggestively. “We’d make the cutest babies.”

“Mhm,” you nod in agreement, wrapping your arms around his neck. You two would make really adorable babies. “Why don’t we go get more practice making one… or test out the rest of the condoms for any holes… Cant be too safe, now, can we?”

He squeezes your ass again, shuffling you back out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

[cherryxcadbury]

hey! just saw your post. could you write a mbappe imagine where they have a child and him and the child try to convince the reader for another sibling. super fluff!! ����💋

LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS!

2nd person pov

"Nicolas! Amour! Where are you two?" You called, waltzing into the sitting room where your son & husband sat.

The two were snuggled into the couch, whispering loudly into each other's ears in French. You tried hard to understand what they were saying, but your lack of knowledge on French did not help you in the slightest. The two perked up when they saw you enter.

"Cherie! Come sit!" Kylian smiled, patting the sofa, gesturing to sit between him and Nicolas.

You smiled, doing as suggested, laying back into the couch. Nicolas immediately climbed on your lap, while Kylian moved closer to you and placed your legs on his lap.

You eyed your two boys suspiciously. 

"What's going on?" 

"What do you mean mummy?" Nicolas looked up at you with deep eyes, full of emotion.

You chuckled, "Nothing. Mummy didn't mean anything." You kissed his cheek.

"I meant, what's up with you?" You shot Kylian a pointed look, who smiled sheepishly.

"Well, me and Nicolas were talking about what he wants for his birthday." Kylian began. 

You quirked and eyebrow at the both of them this time.

"Your birthday was last month love." You told your son.

"Yes but next year. When I turn four." He responded.

"Well," You said, turning your head to face him, "What is it that you want."

"A little brother or sister." He grinned, with so much hope in his eyes.

You smiled back at him but shot Kylian a dirty look, who just smirked in reply. He gently grabbed your face, and kissed you. It was a clear attempt to convince you to try for another child.

You swatted him away and turned back to Nicolas. 

"You know my love. Having a child isn't that easy." You reminded your son.

"Why don't you just go to the store and buy one?" Nicolas questioned innocently.

His eyes lit up suddenly, "Oh oh oh! Or ask Santa for Christmas next year, and a stork will come and drop one off!"

"Actually Nico, to have a child it needs more involvement in mummy and daddy's part s—" Kylian began.

You immediately shushed him. 

"Idiot! He's too young for this talk!" You scolded your husband.

"Mummy and Daddy will try very hard and talk to Santa about it. Okay?" You told Nicolas, who nodded enthusiastically. 

"Now come on, let's watch the film." You all directed your attention to the television.

Well at least you all thought you directed your attention. Not a moment later you felt a hand on your thigh. A thumb circling in the same spot over & over again. You turned to scowl at Kylian who just winked at you. 

You couldn't help but laugh.

***

Not more than thirty minutes later, Nicolas was asleep.

Kylian bent low to Nicolas's ear and whispered something in French to see if he was still awake. He was not. The two of your shared a knowing look. Words weren't needed ti communicate what you needed to communicate. 

You both got up, Nicolas in your arms, Kylian's arms around your waist. You had to walk only a few strides before you entered your son's room. Kylian gently laid him down and kissed his forehead. You sat on the edge of the bed and brushed his hair out of his eyes. You kissed Nicolas's cheek, and wished him a good night. Though he was fast, fast asleep. 

The two of you walked out of his room quietly, being extra careful when closing the door. A sigh of relief was let out when it was all done without waking him up. You were about to head to the washroom to shower and get ready for bed before you felt Kylians grip on your wrist. He twirled you around so you were close to the wall. His forehead against yours, lips merely centimeters away from each other. 

"So about that baby?" He smirked. 

You scoffed. 

"Aw come on cherie! It's not like we can't give him a sibling." Kylian protested.

You playfully rolled your eyes.

"Maybe I just don't want to do what's required to make the child." You shot him a wink.

Kylian cocked his head, "Amour. I'm Kylian Mbappe. Everyone's attracted to me!" 

You smacked your hand against your forehead.

"Contrary to popular belief Kylian. Not everyone finds ninja turtles attractive."

“Pleaseee Y/N! Think about how cute it would be to have a little you running around! Then our family would truly be complete!”

You gave him a quick peck on the lips, before strolling into your master bedroom, purposefully leaving the door wide open.

Kylian stood dumbfounded for a few minutes. He was very very confused. His ego also took a hit. You poked your head out from the door.

"Do you want to make that baby or not?" 

Thanks to Kylians speed, it didn't take one second for him to be in that room with the door slammed shut. 

*** Eleven months later

“Nicolas! Come see your birthday gift.” You warmly smiled at your son from the hospital bed.

Nicolas walked gingerly, hand in hand with his dad. Kylian greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, while Nicolas stood on his tip toes to see his new siblings. They were twins, one boy, and one girl.

Was that the plan? No, not really.

Nicolas’s eyes widened in delight while Kylian was almost reduced to tears. You propped Nicolas up on the hospital bed with you, while transferring both children into the arms of Kylian.

“They’re beautiful amour. We did a great job. I’m proud of you.” Kylian complimented, wishing he could take your hand if both weren’t occupied with holding his new kids.

“Mummy. I asked Santa for two brothers. Not a sister. The storks messed up.” Nicolas frowned.

You and Kylian laughed while he nudged Nicolas’s shoulder.

“Nicolas. Do you want to name them?” Kylian asked earnestly, receiving a nod from you in approval.

Secretly, you were a little hesitant. There was one certain name you had your heart set on for the girl, you doubted Nicolas would choose it. But his happiness mattered more to you than some picture perfect names.

“Hmmm, for the boy, Theo.” Nicolas started.

You nodded, you liked it.

“And for the girl. Lena!” Nicolas cheered, looking into your eyes with glee.

You grinned, that had been the name you wanted all along. But how did he know? Ah, of course. You turned your head to meet your husband’s gaze. Of course it was Kylian’s doing.

“I love you.” You mouthed to him.

“I love you more.” He winked back, causing your cheeks to grow red.

still, after all these years. That man’s affect on you would never change.

[libraryofloveletters]

Unwrapped

Achraf Hakimi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: platonic relationships, you and achraf are equally as confused, you're also lowkey beefing, alcohol and the consumption of, kylian thinks it's so funny, matching pjs, you're all soooo unserious.

Word Count: 401

Author's Note: this is a random one, I can't remember what my original idea was for this when I first put it down so I made one up lmao

--

Kylian invites a few friends over to celebrate Christmas with him and his family. You can't quite remember what happened the night before you know you don't remember the events leading up to this morning. 

Christmas at Kylian's was a messy event; every year brought its own madness but this year might have topped it all.

Last thing you remember was you and Kylian bouncing on the couch, Achraf recording the two of you as Ethan tried to stop his brother from falling off of the couch.

It's morning, the sun creeps through the curtains in the guest room and your head is pounding from the night before. All you want to do is curl up under the comforters until tomorrow, you know for a fact that Kylian wouldn't bother you as he's probably in the same spot as you.

You figured you should at least check the time, your hand flung behind you to feel for your phone but instead you're met with something hard followed by a very loud 'ow!'

Achraf sits up, rubbing his nose. "You smacked me!" He shouts at you.

You give him a push, "shut up! My head is killing me!" Your hand pressed to your temple, your own shouting hurting your head.

"What are you doing in my bed?" He asks you and you look at him confused, "this is my bed. Why are you in here?"

It takes you two a second but it seems you've come to the same conclusion, making a disgusted face as you both groan. The bedroom door opens before you two could speak, Kylian walks in looking like he hadn't consumed half of his liquor cabinet the night before.

"You look like shit," he tells you two, sitting on the end of the bed. You roll your eyes, "what's going on here?" Kylian asks, his finger pointing between you and Achraf.

"Achraf came in here."

"No!" the man butts in to defend himself. "She came in here!"

"Actually," Kylian starts, "you both came in at the same time to change and it seems that you fell asleep. Did you not notice the matching pjs you had on?"

You and Achraf look down, the two of you in the exact same outfit. Looking over, you see Kylian had the same ones as well. "What is going on here?" You asked him, clearly confused as unsure if you had woken up in some alternate reality.

Kylian laughs, "it was a gift from Ethan, he says we're always together so we should dress the same."

"You guys are so fricking weird," you say, lying back down.

[applejuicefruit]

Kylian and reader where she has a car crash? I love your fluff but I need something that can make me cry 😫😫😫😫

This is pure ANGST i’m sorry😫

I don’t know if i’ll make part 2

One more chance

Kylian’s P.O.V.

Last 5 minutes before the match ended and I just scored my second goal of the night. Unfortunately my girlfriend couldn’t be here tonight to celebrate with me. She was at his aunt birthday party and we both know that family is more important than everything. Plus she hasn’t seen her aunt since she moved here in Paris with me so when she asked me if she could miss my game to see her family I couldn’t tell her no, she was so excited to see them again.

I was celebrating our PSG victory with my teammates in the changing room when I received the call I wish I never received.

“Hello, this is Kylian” I answered the moment my phone rang. It was an unknown number but something told me I should answer.

“Good evening, this is nurse Marie from Saint-Louis hospital” when she said that she was calling from the hospital my heart missed a beat “you are the first emergency contact on miss y/n l/n phone, we are contacting you to let you know that y/n had a car accident and she is currently in our care”.

My phone dropped from my hand.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Kylian?” Neymar called me and everyone in the changing room looked at me.

I couldn’t speak.

I heard the nurse from the hospital keep calling my name but I felt going numb. I couldn’t do anything.

“Ky? What’s going on?” I heard Hakimi asking me.

“Y/n…she…y/n” I kept saying but I couldn’t form a sentence.

Neymar took my phone and spoke with the nurse but I couldn’t heard anything.

“She had an accident” Ney said while speaking with the nurse “she is in a critical state” he said kneeling in front of me.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Kylian look at me” Neymar said grabbing my shoulders “try to copy me” and I started coping is breathing.

“I need to go…to…she needs me” I say trying to be calmer.

“It’s okay we’re coming with you” Hakimi said and Neymar agreed with him.

They took me to the hospital, Hakimi driving at inhuman speed.

When we got there I ran to the front desk asking for information. They told me she was still being taken care of and that I couldn’t see her now so I had to wait.

But I couldn’t wait.

I needed to hold her.

The nurse took us into the ward she was hospitalised and made us wait in the waiting area.

Ten minutes later I saw one of the doctors that was in y/n room coming out from the door.

He saw us and came towards us.

“What happened?” I asked with a shaky voice.

“A drunk man didn’t stop at the sign and went full speed into y/n’s car” he said calmly “we’re still medicating her, she’s in a serious state right now. She has a broken leg, a few broken ribs, a concussion…” he paused and I knew there was more “…she has lost a lot of blood from her head and her right lung is injured…at the moment she can’t breathe on her own…I’ll let you know if something changes” he said but I stopped before he could go.

“Can I see her?” I say almost crying.

I didn’t want to cry. Not in front of my friends. I’ve always strong in front of everyone, I didn’t want to show my emotions but this time I couldn’t hold it.

“I’m afraid not…she still being medicated. I’ll let you know when you can see her” he said going back to her room.

I sat down on one of the bench that was in the waiting area and I started crying. I didn’t care if other people saw me. Neymar sat next to me while Hakimi knelt down in front of me. Both of them trying to calm me down.

“It’s going to be okay” Neymar said trying to be positive “she’s strong, you know her”

“I can’t lose her…I can’t…I needed to be there with her but I wasn’t!”

“Ky calm down please” Hakimi said putting his hands on my shoulders.

“I can’t…I just…what if she doesn’t make it? I just…I can’t lose her, I don’t want to lose her” I said fully on tears right now.

Neymar and Achraf didn’t care if I was crying. They stayed next to me.

The team asked Neymar for news but truth was we didn’t know anything.

After a couple of hours Neymar had to go home to his kid so I was waiting with Hakimi.

4 hours.

It took the doctors and the nurses 4 hours to exit y/n’s room.

The doctor came up to me telling me that I could visit her.

Just me.

In the meantime Hakimi called her family and my family telling them what happed.

The moment I got into her room everything stopped.

She was laying there with her face and arms covered in bruises with a machine helping her breathe.

I sat next to her and I took her fragile and small hand into mine.

“Come back to me” I said while kissing her hand “please…wake up” I continued kissing her hand “I want to see your beautiful eyes again, please open your eyes babe” I said knowing she couldn’t hear me.

I stayed there just holding her hand and whispering soft words for about three hours when Hakimi knocked on the door letting me know that our families were here but I couldn’t go out. I couldn’t see her family. I promised them I would have always protect her and now she’s here because I wasn’t with her. I was being a coward but I couldn’t face them. She’s their only child, I can’t imagine what they’re going through.

I stayed in her room.

For hours.

Hours became days and days became weeks and she still didn’t wake up.

Everyone knew that happened. The whole world knew what happened.

Fans became suspicious when I missed three games in a row. I knew I couldn’t miss more games and that the team needed me so I took all of my anger out in the field helping the team winning every single match.

Before and after practice I would visit her. Everytime after a match. Every night instead of sleeping in our bed I slept on the couch next to her bed hoping that someday she would wake up.

She was in a coma. As the doctors said.

They don’t know when she will wake up. Or if she will wake up.

It’s been a month now.

The police found the man who caused the accident and put him in jail but honestly I wish he was dead.

Everytime I open Insta I see people posting about us and it makes me cry even harder.

Y/n is a good soul. People love her. My fans love her. She didn’t deserve this.

Like every morning I go into her room and I stay with her for an hour before going to training.

Like every morning I sit next to her and I hold her hand.

“Mon amour…I know you can’t hear me…but I need you to wake up please…” I say kissing her forehead. My tears wetting her face.

“I need you sweetheart…I need you back home with me…it doesn’t even feel like home without you. I miss your laugh and your bad jokes” I say trying to light up the mood a little bit “I miss your terrible cooking, I miss everytime you sings your american songs, I miss waking up next to you and hugging you, I miss doing your hair in the morning when you’re too tired to do it by yourself…I-I miss your kisses and your hugs and the feel of your body under mine…I just can’t think of what I would do if you’ll never wake up…I miss you, come back to me please” I say now fully crying.

It was time for me to leave so, like every morning I left hoping to see her awake when I come back.

[whorekneecentral]

“let me give you a reason to stay in bed”

hakimi leaving for training AND YOU JUST NOT HAVING IT NOPE NEEDY READER FOR THIS ONE BAE SOFT SMUT

-🏎️

the way I ran to write this // prompt: “let me give you a reason to stay in bed”

He was trying his best to be quiet; waking up a few minutes before his alarm, shutting it off so you can sleep in, replacing himself with his pillow so you can cuddle. 

Hakimi was just about to get out of bed when you stirred, rubbing your eyes a bit. “Baby?” you call for him, sitting up. 

He smiles to himself, you always looked adorable when you woke up, despite your hair being a tangled mess, your eyes are puffy and your shirt hanging half way off, he still thought you were the most beautiful woman ever. 

“Yeah?” He peeks out the bathroom to see you sitting in the middle of the bed. “C’merre,” you reach out for him and he walks over to you, you already know where he’s going based on the shorts he’s got on. 

“I thought you had training on Tuesday,” you mumble, pulling him back into bed with you. 

Hakimi lays back, letting you relax against him, your head resting on his chest. His arm wraps around you, rubbing your back softly. “It is Tuesday, darling.” 

“Ew, no.” You roll into his side, looking up at him. “Stay here with me.” 

Your boyfriend laughs, “baby, I can’t. You know I have to go.” He watches as your hand wander down his bare torso, trailing over the waistband of his shorts. 

“Y/n,” he warns you, knowing what you’re thinking. You shift onto your knees, moving to sit between his legs. Your hand slides up his thigh, your eyes find his and he lets out a breathe, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. 

“Let me give you a reason to stay in bed.”

“You’re gonna get me in so much trouble,” his arm tucked under his head when he watches you tug on his shorts. 

“So pretty,” he hums, his free hand brushing along your cheek.

Hakimi would only be gone for a few hours and you two were still in your ‘young love’ phase as Sergio called it. So more often than not, one thing led to the other and now, well.. you see where this was going.  

He smiles at the sight of you, watching you push your head down a little more.

“Gonna take it all?” He asks, he knows you can but he never pushes you.

He never asks either, it was always your choice but he was never one to turn down a blow job - he is a man after all.

You hum, leaning forward a little more and taking him all the way. Hakimi sighs, his grip on your hair tightens a bit, pulling you forward a little more just until your nose brushes against his skin. 

“I’m gonna be late,” he looks down at you, sighing at the feeling. You look up at him and pulling off him with a pop, earning a smile from him. “I can stop-” 

“No!” He says a little too quick, making you laugh. 

[darlingmbappe]

The Loneliest [2] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

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

Summary: The transition period after calling off your engagement has broken both you and Kylian. He needs to have you back, but you can’t handle having your heart broken again.

Warnings: pure angst, heartbroken reader, heartbroken Kylian, cussing, lots of crying. I switched perspectives between the reader and Kylian. — English is not my first language —

Kylian had racked up quite a large amount late fees the following month after your breakup. He never used to have issues going to sleep at night or waking up to go to training before this, but he just let himself scroll through his camera roll for hours on end.

He would emerge himself in that reality, smiling, giggling whenever your digital image did something goofy. He remembered which outfits he helped you pick out, fixating his thoughts on the ‘K’ necklace that he gave you shining around your neck in every frame. Then, due to the fault of a notification or a car alarm going off, he would snap back into the reality of his new life.

These are just memories now. He wouldn’t be able to take your picture again, hear your grainy morning voice, make your coffee so perfectly that you’d hum in gratitude.

Achraf knew about the breakup, but Kylian asked him to keep it hush since he didn’t feel like talking about it most of the time. Some nights, though, he finds himself on the phone with his mother without thinking about the fact that it’s past 2 o’clock in the morning. She (of course) picks up every time, being there for her little boy with a broken heart, her own heart breaking with the thought of you not coming around anymore.

Today, he made it to training just on time, barely smiling at the PSG camera crew that follows them around. Usually if somethings bothering him, football is his medicine. He goes out, distracts himself by making goals and perfect tackles, but it wasn’t until you were gone that he realized he needed you there to bring it all together. He hated how codependent he had become, sometimes subconsciously wishing he’d never met you at all. Maybe then his heart wouldn’t feel like it was being ripped out piece by piece.

“Okay, seriously?” Glatier grunted, blowing the whistle after Kylian had missed yet another easy goal. “Kylian!” He called over. Kylian cussed under his breath and jogged over to the frustrated coach, his teammates just as frustrated with him for his performance recently. “What the hell is going on with you? Where’s your head at?!”

Kylian looked at his feet, hands resting on his hips. “Sorry, coach.”

“No, not ‘sorry’, Kylian. You’ve been somewhere else for weeks. I need you to explain yourself before we start benching you.”

Kylian bit his cheek, still focused on the pitch under his feet, begging his body to suck the lingering tears back in. He looked up at his awaiting coach, nodding. “There’s no excuse, coach. I’m right here, I’ll do better.”

Glatier looks at him apprehensively, expecting to hear how the pass wasn’t placed right or some other bullshit that Kylian used to blame his shortcomings on, but notes that something is definitely off with the star player. “Alright, then.” He says, keeping eye contact, blowing the whistle twice, sending everyone to do a different drill.

Kylian sniffles as he runs back toward his team, Hakimi pats him on the back upon seeing his glossy eyes.

You had been a mess yourself, occupying yourself with your own job. Coworkers started calling you a hard ass once you decided to take charge of the group meetings, having to have control of something ever since your love life vanished. They were also oblivious to the fact of you and Kylians breakup, feeling as if the news was better off left to his PR team.

You’d settled nicely into the hotel life, enjoying complimentary breakfasts and free valet parking, but finally found a move-in ready apartment close to the office. It’d been a nightmare having your entire life packed into your car, taking up every ounce of room you had in there. There were times you convinced yourself that you were fine, but realized it was just a lie every night when you popped a sleeping pill and craved looking into Kylians eyes. You resorted back to his Instagram so often, clicking the same post every time.

The night you left, Kylian posted something for your birthday. At first, you ignored the notification, deleting the app altogether. That lasted about an hour. You redownloaded it once your curiosity took control of your body, having to know what the hell your newly-ex fiancé tagged you in. You assumed at some point he’d take it down, but it’s been thirty four days and it’s still the last thing on his feed.

You laid in the neatly made hotel bed, your fingers doing their own thing, rereading his caption until you heard your heart crack — like it did every time you found yourself here.

@k.mbappe: To the love of my life; you’re the best things that’s ever happened to me. Sometimes I can’t even believe how lucky I got. Getting to know you and getting to love you was the biggest privilege of my whole life. I hope this year gives you everything you need. I will love you always. — Ky.

You think back to the night that photo was taken a lot. It was at Neymar’s New Years Eve party, a few months before he proposed. Kylians hand was permanently attached to your waist. He looked at you every time something funny was said, wanting to laugh with you. He bragged about your accomplishments to everyone there — as if anyone in the room wasn’t more impressive than you, seeing models and athletes around every corner. At some point, you’d lost him and the clock was ticking down, five minutes until midnight. As you turned down a hallway, you heard his voice coming from one of the rooms.

“She’s the one.” Kylian stated, a giggle following right after. You never meant to eavesdrop on him but now you had to — back pressed against the wall as you tipped your ear closer to the open door.

“Man, she’s awesome.” Neymar’s voice responded.

“I know. I can’t ever stop smiling.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s creepy.” They both laugh, you bit your lip to keep yourself from squealing. Neymar continues. “You deserve someone great like her.”

Kylian pauses, you wait for him to say something. “What if I fuck it up?”

You feel your heart tug at his insecurity, but stop yourself from running in there and kissing him until the silly thought leaves his head. “You won’t. I can tell that she loves you a lot. Just, show her how you feel about her every day and you can’t fuck it up.”

The lull in the conversation gives you time to skip into the room. They both look at you and smile, Kylians eyes shining with love as you make your way to sit on his lap by the window.

“There you are.” You kiss his crinkled cheek. “Been looking for you. It’s almost midnight.”

He hums and pulls you closer to him.

“Aww!” Neymar teases in an exaggerated tone, standing from his place and whips out his phone, snapping a candid picture of the two of you. “What a cute couple.”

You quickly closed the app, throwing your phone far away from you on the bed.

“Fuck that.” You cried, stuffing your face in the mattress to collect your tears. You were so angry at him, but you wanted to talk to him. Slap him. Kiss him. Make him regret everything.

Your feelings have never been so crossed in your life. Of course you knew ending your relationship would be hard, but not debilitating. You didn’t expect to have to find new ways to not think about Kylian. How are you going to do this forever? Will this crippling coldness ever leave you alone? The signs all point to Kylian, but you don’t even know if he’ll be up to talking.

Blocking his number was an easy decision. While you were confident that you made the right move at the time, it doesn’t feel that way anymore. You reached back and grabbed your phone, settling down and wiping any remaining tears from your face.

The amount of times you’ve unblocked Kylian probably has broken some sort of record. You’ve been to really low places in the past few weeks, but the fake it ‘till you make it mantra somehow found it’s way into your system, hearing it buzzing in your ears like an annoying fruit fly.

Clicking the unblock button was simple. Trying to find something to say was beyond difficult.

You typed and backspaced and typed and backspaced until you were ripping your hair out. It was either too weird or too forward, but all of it was too scary.

Almost half an hour had passed, still trying to manage some sort of communication with him. Everything felt wrong, maybe today wasn’t the day. Just as you were about to reblock him, your phone buzzed.

Kylian: hello?

Shit. Of course he decided to text you right when you unblock him.

While you were freaking out about this turn of events, Kylian was holding his breath. When he saw the three dots appearing and disappearing on his phone screen over and over again, he felt like he struck gold. He just needed some way back into your life. And although small, this was an opportunity he couldn’t ditch out on.

You stared at the message, trying to take deep breaths. You should be chill. You’d texted Kylian a gazillion times in your life, but considering the circumstances, panic seemed fitting.

“Okay, (Y/N). Pull it together.” You mumbled to yourself, clearing your throat.

(Y/N): hi

You sent the message quick with no time to think twice. You facepalmed, now overthinking those two little letters. You waited impatiently for his reply. He was taking too long for your liking, but the time displayed at the top of your screen hadn’t moved. Not even a minute passed before he said something back.

Kylian: so you decided to unblock me?

Kylian: how are you?

He didn’t give you a chance to really respond to his first question, so it was easy to ignore it. But the second question had much more weight behind it.

How are you? Really?

You were tempted to type back ‘like my soul was sucked out and repeatedly backed over by a semi truck full of loaded diapers’, but that seemed like a bit much.

(Y/N): I’ve definitely been better.

You waited again, wondering if you should ask him how he’s doing, too. You saw the typing bubbles, but they disappeared. Once, twice, three times until he finally messaged back.

Kylian: did you want to talk?

You sighed, throwing your head back and staring at the ceiling. Fuck. Why did he have to ask that? Of course you wanted to talk — but this seems like the beginning of a very slippery slope. Going back to him was exactly what you wanted. You wanted to take him back and hug him and kiss his stupidly plump lips until you couldn’t anymore.

At the same time, you’re so vulnerable right now. You knew that taking him back this quickly would definitely cause an issue; whether it just be second guessing yourself or realizing you were wrong, and leaving him twice was something your heart absolutely could not handle.

Kylian: im sorry if that was too forward

You didn’t realize how long you were lost in thought for. You looked down at the message taunting you in your lap, sighing.

You: no, it’s fine.

You: when are you free?

You didn’t know it, but Kylian, Hakimi, and Ramos all jumped up and cheered when you sent that message. They shook his shoulders around in excitement, all too invested in the young couples relationship.

“Vamos!” Screamed Ramos, hugging the group.

“Okay, okay, shut up!” Kylians smile wrinkled his eyes shut for the first time in forever, sitting back down on the training bench.

Ramos happened to walked by when Kylian was crying to Hakimi, which Kylian was super embarrassed about, but Ramos was a genuinely good friend of the two of you, so now he felt personally affected by this breakup.

“Come on, quickly. What do I say?”

“That you are free tonight. Dios mío.” Ramos tusked like it was the most obvious thing in the world… and it was.

Kylian: tonight after training?

Kylian: I can pick you up, we can go get some dinner?

(Y/N): how about I just meet you at the training center?

There was no way you’d allow for this to be a date. If you let him wine and dine you, your heart would melt into a puddle that spelled out his name.

Kylian: perfect, cant wait

Kylian: I’ll see you later

You smiled down at your phone, putting a thumbs up to his last message and shut it off. Allowing your smile to finally spread across you face, you breathed out a giant huff that weighed down your lungs.

The happiness passed quickly, your mind remembering the way he was before. Aloof, distracted, snappy… You we’re still holding onto the old Kylian. The one that took you on spontaneous picnics, the one who would pull over on the side of the highway on his way home and hand-pick you a bouquet because the wildflowers looked pretty, the one that never forgot to kiss you goodnight, even if he was already asleep when you crawled in next to him.

The expectations for tonight were all over the place. Your mind raced with the possibilities of how it would end. Would you lower you walls for him again? Are you even capable of that? He hurt you down to your core, his actions broke you down into an insecure shell of yourself.

The end of the day came, and by now, the word had spread to the rest of the team about the breakup. Glatier patted Kylian on the back in sympathy, giving him a wise coach speach about life and love — one that didn’t really help Kylian. It was actually rather confusing. Nonetheless, he thanked his elder, mentally noting it’s best if he just sticks to coaching football.

Neymar was shaken by the news, having taken a liking to you early on in your relationship with Kylian. When he asked Kylian what was bothering him so much lately, he breathed out a heavy, “nooo!”. Comforting his teammate felt nostalgic for them both because their own relationship went through a sort of breakup at one point.

Kylian felt the end of the day inching closer and closer. He didn’t know what he was going to do when he saw you. It was important for him that he doesn’t say anything to scare you away. He wants you to see that he’s sorry and that he’s ready to prove it to you. He wants to make you laugh, make you remember that he is capable of making you happy again.

Kylian smelled better right now than he ever did after practice. He scrubbed like a maniac, fixing his hair with precision, shaving and applying after shave. He finished off with some cologne that Verratti suggested, a cool jacket that Kimpembe let him borrow. He drew the line when Sergio came for his eyebrows with tweezers, doing a nervous final check in the full length mirror. Breathing deep, he opens up his messages.

Kylian: im almost done :)

Kylian: let me know when ur here

He watched the screen, waiting for you to respond with anything. The three dots popped up again, halting his breathing when your message appeared.

(Y/N): I’m here. Come meet me by the maintenance entrance.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was rushing out of the locker room with anticipation taking over his veins, his knuckles turning white against the material of his duffle bag. He felt like he was going to throw up from nerves, but the good kind of nerves — the kind he has before an important match.

Where you were meeting him was his little hidden area. The maintenance crew got an upgraded break room with a patio, so no one ever came out this way, leaving the picnic tables open for when he needed a sneaky break. He brought you out here multiple times when you came and visited, always insisting on making out before he would go back inside.

This door always got stuck. He remembers having to shoulder it every time. He prepared himself, stepping back before lunging his body forward. Next thing he knows, he’s landed on the cold cement, letting out a loud “oof” when he went down.

“Oh my god!” He heard your sweet voice from a distance, looking up and seeing you, sideways from his position. The wind was already knocked out of him, but wow, watching you running in his direction took his breath way. “Are you okay?”

He got himself up when you approached him, he brushed himself off cooly. “When the hell did they oil that door?” Kylian points.

You stare at him before you let a small laugh bubble out, immediately getting Kylian to join in. He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed by his less than cool entrance, but mentally checks off the make her laugh box in his head.

Damn, he looks good, you thought to yourself. You kept it at bay, but you noticed how he cleaned up extra nice, tugging at your heartstrings. You can’t lie, you also spent way too long on your appearance.

“Hello,” he smiles, raking his eyes adoringly over your frame. He didn’t even notice himself inching closer to you, but you did. It made you hot under the collar just being around him again. You’d been away from him longer than a month before, but this was hard.

You gulp. “Hi.”

He set his duffle bag down on the picnic table. You had his full attention, every word he’s wanted to say to you just on the tip of his tongue. You made your way over to the bench and slowly sat down, him following suit, sitting a little closer than you wanted him to.

You scooted away slightly. “Let’s talk.” You say. He nods, turning his body toward you. “I have to be at work soon so I can’t stay long.”

His leg bounces. “Can I start?”

“Okay.”

His gaze locked on your delicate hands, wanting nothing more then to hold them tightly. He breathed deep, his nerves felt electric in his veins. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance. I fucked up and realized it too late. I should have noticed, but I didn’t. And I’m so sorry for that. For everything.” His words were slow and gentle, his eyes not knowing where to look as they bounced from your eyes to you hands to your lips, then back to your eyes again. “I’m miserable without you. I miss you. I miss you so fucking much, (Y/N).”

You sigh. “I miss you too, Kylian. Believe me, this hasn’t been easy for me, either. But, I’m not here to get back together with you. I can’t let myself do that.”

“Why?”

“Because…” You really wished you planned this talk out better because right now, you were letting your emotions run on autopilot. Yet, you kept your logical side steady on the breaks in case your heart decided it needed his comfort more than it needed peace. “Because, Kylian. I just can’t.”

You felt the anger inside of you rising to the surface. You stood up and began pacing. Kylian stood too, but his feet were frozen in place.

“You know, I didn’t even know you still loved me until I was leaving?” You stated, facing his ashamed demeanor. He opened his mouth to respond but you didn’t let him. “You made me feel like shit. For months. You drove this… this weird insecurity in me that was never there before. I couldn’t even talk to you about it because you’d just spin it on me. Do you know how shitty that feels?”

His head hung low, guilt overriding his every sense. For whatever reason, he had high expectations for how this was going to go, and it’s already not at all how he thought. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry. You never deserved that.”

“You’re fucking right, I didnt.” You snapped, brows knit tightly in anger. “Why did you change? What happened? What did I do to you that made you so angry at me?”

Kylian opened and closed his mouth, stuttering. “I…” Seeing the tears gloss your eyes brought his own forward, but he bit them back. “… I don’t know. Nothing, you did nothing wrong.”

You stared at him, sighing. You ran a hand over your cheeks once you felt some stray tears run down your face. Nodding, you sat back down, Kylian cautiously joined you further down the bench. His elbows were on his knees, eyes facing the pavement. Silence used to be comfortable with Kylian. You two could sit together for hours and not say a word, and it would feel so natural. Now, the air was thick with tension, every depressing emotion running full speed inside your loud mind.

“You remember that benefit dinner we went to in November? The one held by that super rich Fortune 500 guy?” You asked softly, breaking the silence. “That week was when I started doubting if we were even good together anymore. You hadn’t payed attention to me, touched me, listened to me in weeks. I thought it was me. That I was somehow fucking up everything we had.” Kylian listened through the sound of his pounding heart, not daring to look up. He could hear in your voice how deeply upset you were, he couldn’t take the look on your face. “I tried talking to you about it that morning. I was going to ask if you wanted to take a break… have some time to ourselves. Instead, you just turned it into a fight about me leaving the dishwasher open, or some shit like that. I ended up apologizing to you.” You chuckled, but it really wasn’t funny.

Kylian remembered, having been stressed about his difficult new physical therapy sessions. He took out his frustrations on you unfairly, but he didn’t realize that he was doing that until it was too late.

You continued. “I dressed up so nice for you that night. I wore that gorgeous blue dress you got for me, heels that absolutely killed my feet, I got my hair and makeup done by real professionals… I thought maybe I could at least get you to want me again. But, all night long, you pretty much ignored me. You only smiled at me when other people were around and you didn’t want to look like a dick. I loved it, though. It felt like the old days, when you would actually smile when I was around.”

His lip quivered, still not being able to lift his head toward you. You wanted to keep going, but knew what you were going to say next was going to hurt him and it was never about getting even. You didn’t want to put him through what he made you feel. Reluctantly, you knew you had to tell him. You had to do it for you.

“That whole night, you kind of ignored me. I had the thought that you wouldn’t even notice if I disappeared… so I did. I was on the balcony for like, an hour. All by myself. Watching you from the outside to see if you started looking for me, and you never did.” You paused to take a breath, fiddling with your thumbs. “I didn’t think I would ever tell you this, but what do I have to lose, right?” He looked up, eyes red. You looked away. “It wasn’t on purpose, but… that night, Erling Haaland and I had a great time.” You locked eyes with him when he shifted, his whole demeanor changing from apologetic to full protection mode.

“What? What do you mean?” He attempted to keep his voice clear of obvious anger, but you knew him too well.

“No, no. Not like that.” You clarified. “He came out there for a breather and saw me. I don’t think he knew who I was or that we were together—”

“Bullshit.” He mumbled, but you ignored him.

“We just laughed and talked about the last season. Nothing happened, I wouldn’t do that to you.” You weren’t going to mention how he asked for your number at the end of the night because that would send him into a spiral. “Look, I’m not telling you this to be cruel, or anything, but it’s just an example of how alone I felt… that I would spend an entire night talking with Erling Haaland of all people. He payed more attention to me that night than you did for months. It made me remember how much fun we used to have. It made me realize that you might not be that person for me anymore.” Your voice wobbled and Kylian squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his tears back in with a sharp and deep breath.

He couldn’t believe you never told him about this, but reminded himself that he wouldn’t let you. He was too cold, too defensive.

“I promise you, (Y/N) — even if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll get you back.” He swore through his wavering voice, still attempting to hold back his cries. You saw his twitching face, surfacing your own emotions.

You couldnt hold it back anymore, placing your face in your palms, letting the sobs go freely. “You’re a stupid fucking dickhead, Mbappé.” It was vulgar, but it’s just what shot out of your mouth.

Kylian knew he deserved that and more, just nodding at the new nickname, beginning to let himself cry as well. “I’m gonna change. If you let me show you, I’ll never stop proving to you how much I love you.” He grabbed your hand, tightly grasping it and kissing your knuckles.

“I think…” you sniffle, watching Kylian as he squeezed your hand in his, resting it on his face. “I think I need more time, Kylian.”

Immediately he nods, scooting closer to you. “We have time, baby. I’ll wait for you to be ready. I don’t care how long it takes.”

You and Kylian continue to cry, together. This kind of vulnerability is what you’ve been craving from him, this is the kind you had before.

“Kylian, I can’t handle having my heart broken again.” You choke. He holds you close now, forehead resting on the side of your head.

“I won’t ever be that person again.” He promised, sniffling. “I’ve never hurt this badly before. I’m not putting either of us through this torture again.”

You nod, wiping your tears and trying to calm down a little before standing up, leaving Kylian sitting alone on the bench.

“If I’m even going to entertain the idea of getting back together… we’re starting over completely. Right from the start.” You point, feeling yourself stop crying and using your sleeve to get rid of any proof that you were an absolute trainwreck.

He nods, standing up. “Okay. I can do that.” It looks like a burst of good energy just shot it’s way into his body, but the nervous demeanor stood above it, cautiously watching your every move.

“This doesn’t mean we’re getting back together. I need to know it’s the right decision. It’s too hard.”

“Of course. I’ll do anything.” You can tell Kylian is holding back from hugging you by the way his feet tap toward you, his body swaying in your direction.

You look him over, breathing in the crisp air. “Okay.” You check your watch, noticing you’ll be late if you don’t leave in the next five minutes. “I have to go now.” You say, nodding an awkward goodbye to Kylian; hugging felt like it would be weird… a handshake even weirder.

“Wait.” He stops you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and quickly pulling it back. “Am I allowed to ask you on a date now?”

You chuckle, a real one this time. “Um. Let’s wait a couple of weeks. I need some more time to process all of this. Besides, I’m moving on Friday so I’ll be pretty busy unpacking, so…”

He’s taken aback, quirking an eyebrow and trying to not looked too freaked out. “Wait… moving? Where?”

“Some place I found. It’s fine… close to the office.” You honestly didn’t love it, but it was cute. It had character. “The hotel life was getting too expensive.”

“Let me pay for that–”

“No. Non-couples don’t do that.” You say, checking the time again, walking backwards toward you car. “Look, I really have to go. Wait for me to text you, alright?”

He nods, watching your figure disappear in the dark parking lot. “I will.”

He didn’t take his eyes off your car until it was out of his sight, turning back the way he came in.

The time has come for him to cheer, celebrate, tell all of his friends… but he won’t. He might’ve managed his way back into your life, but he’s nowhere near out of the woods yet. Everyone knows how embarrassing early celebrations are, especially when they they miss the goal in the end. He’s not making that mistake. He’s just grateful for the new opportunity to prove to you that it’ll be worth it… that he’s worth it. You’ll be treated better than ever… as soon as you’re comfortable with him again.

So, no celebration for Kylian Mbappé… not counting the giddy grin and small fist pump he did when he was alone in his car.

He couldn’t stop himself. He really couldn’t.

[babygirldior]

disrespectful

achraf hakimi x reader

my husband im so proud of him

warnings: none

summary: you and hakimi are ready to head home after the match against spain

a/n: short and sweet i hope you like it!

-

you cup his face in your palms, running your thumb along his flushed cheeks.

"a panenka." you breathe, still in disbelief from the scene you just witnessed.

"you liked it, then?" he laughs, curling his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him. he holds you against his chest, ducking his head to press a kiss to your lips.

"disrespectful." you murmur in between kisses. his skin his hot and slick with sweat but you can't bring yourself to care. you're too elated from the match, from hakimi's performance, and you can feel his smile against your lips. "unbelievably disrespectful."

"i didn't think it would work," he hums, resting his head on the crook of your shoulder. "i was so scared."

"i wasn't." you run your fingers along his skin, smiling when you feel goosebumps arise under your fingertips. and you're telling the truth. you weren't worried. your eyes had been on him when he stepped up to take it, the big screen showed his face, jaw clenched and eyes focused on the goal, and you knew he would make it.

and you were right, of course.

straight down the middle, hitting the net where the keeper was standing just moments prior. you were up on your feet and screaming, laughing, before anyone else.

he pulls back to look down at you with inky eyes, the corners of his lips turning up in a smile. he's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

"i saw you," he admits, running the fabric of your his jersey through his fingers. "in the crowd, i saw you."

"did you see me screaming?"

achraf kisses you again, and you can feel his smile against your lips.

"i did."

"i'm so proud of you, my love."

he hums in return, walking you backwards towards the wall of the locker room to lean back, the back of his head hitting the wall with a soft thud. his grip on your waist is slipping, and you watch his eyes flutter open and shut as he tries to keep from falling asleep while standing with a soft smile on your face.

he's done enough for today, more than enough, and you can feel his muscles, taut under his skin. it's time for him to rest.

"let's go home, yeah?" he nods at your suggestion, dipping his head to press a kiss to your forehead. it's been a wonderful day. more than wonderful. more than he could ever ask for. but right now he's tired and he wants nothing more than to stand in the shower and let the hot water run over his skin. so he lets you tug him out of the locker room and to the car. he slips into the passenger seat next to you and falls asleep on the drive back to the hotel.

.

there's a bruise blossoming on the side of his ribs, deep purple and yellow. he helps you hook your fingers under the hem of his shirt and pull it off of him to look at him and the bruise.

(mostly him though)

he lifts his arms to check himself over and you pretend not to watch the way his muscles flex under his skin, and pretend like seeing the way his shorts are hung so low on his hips you can see the lines on his pelvis doesn't make you want to do things you would never say out loud. you lean forward and he curls his strong arms around you, pulling you close to him. his fingers brush over your skin and tangle into your hair, and his body is hot under your touch, and you find that champagne tastes the sweetest on winning tongues.

-

a/n sorry for the weird cut off ending i really just cant think of anything else to add lol!