#genuinely if there is a character I have found something to love about them

[leiflitter]

Been thinking about this recently, and I think it boils down to fanworks being classified as 'content' rather than a genuine expression of feeling.

Now, there absolutely are people out there who don't necessarily create for the love of whatever media they're creating art for, but I'm talking about creators who are both engaged in and contributing to fandom by creating fanworks.

When these creators write and publish a fic, the underlying intent is to connect with others. To share their ideas and perspectives on whatever it is they love, in the hope that someone else out there will read their work and go, "Yes! Me too!" or, "I never thought of it that way, but this has given me new ideas about that character, wow!"

However, seeing a fic as 'content' removes that potential to connect with others. It's something created to be consumed rather than an outstretched hand.

Something I've seen a lot is people being nervous to interact with fic writers who've written things they love because they've put the writers up on a pedestal... And then they're devastated when the writers fade from the fandom or stop writing or remove their works due to a perceived lack of interest. "But that was my comfort fic, it meant so much to me..."

Yes. I don't doubt it did. But it probably meant even more to the author who spent their time creating it, which mean it hurts them even more when they put it out into the world and get nothing back. I have made some amazing friends through writing fic, because those people have all approached me to tell me what my writing means to them... And I've been ecstatic that something I've made has found a home in other people's hearts. I found the connections I was looking for, but plenty of people will never get that because their readers have decided that whatever fic writer is somehow "more important" than them and are therefore unapproachable and scary. Some will even discuss fic privately, but never let the author know...

If someone makes something that you love, leave a comment! It doesn't need to be big. It doesn't need to be eloquent. "Thank you for writing this, I love it." is more than enough. Let the writers you love know that the effort they've put in wasn't a waste, that their outpouring has been seen and is appreciated.

And if you're lucky, then you might get sent little snippets of future chapters or get infodumped to. Win-win, yeah?

You know what’s really disturbing to me? The culture that seems to have sprung up around fanfiction. Writers spend weeks and months working on a story – I think my record is six months on A Place For Us To Dream. And so many times readers expect to just be given a chapter even if they don’t give anything to the writer in return.

I’m going to date myself a bit here, but I’ve been reading/writing fanfiction for ten years. And when I first started it was a wonderful community. There was an unspoken rule – if you read/enjoyed it, you review it. You take thirty seconds to tell an author who probably spent anywhere from three days to a week writing that chapter you just enjoyed to tell them you enjoyed it. Even if it was as simple as “Great chapter, can’t wait to see what happens next!”

Writers spend so much time on stories, and then they post it because they have this thing that they’ve invested so many hours into and they want to share it with the world. They know how they feel about the story, and they want to know how other people feel, what other people think.

And when you read it and don’t review, you know what message you’re sending that author? That they’re not worth your time, or you didn’t enjoy their story. So why should they keep posting it? Yeah they might continue working on it in their own time, for their own enjoyment, but you might never see another chapter again because you couldn’t be bothered to take thirty seconds out of your day to tell them how you feel.

I’ve written stories in eight different fandoms, ranging from very small to very big (I’ll openly admit I wrote Twilight fanfiction once. Once. It was an Alice/Jasper story and haters can hate all they want but I’m still proud of it). I took a break for a few years because I fell out of fandoms during college, and when I came back apparently it’d become the norm to just greedily consume writing without telling writers how you feel. And that is one of the saddest things in the world to me because fanfiction is where I really started getting serious about writing. It’s how I’ve honed by skills and become the writer I am today. And that was largely in part because of all the support I got when I was an itty-bitty thirteen-year-old writing crappy W.I.T.C.H. fanfiction.

Everyone keeps saying “reviews don’t matter, you should just write for yourself.” Well, you’re wrong. Reviews make or break fanfiction. Reviews tell writers whether it’s worth their time to continue posting that story online or whether they should keep it on their hard drives and never share it with the world.

Kill the attitude that reviews don’t matter. Start telling writers you like their stories. And if you don’t, if you all just continue to be invisible readers? Don’t be surprised when that writer disappears.

[loveesiren]

𝖢𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖬𝗒 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 (𝖯𝗍. 1)

Choi Seunghyun x reader x Kwon Jiyong

a/n: Yay! Here is part one of this angsty, terrible series I'm writing. This one is a bit of a roller coaster and idk why I'm putting my babies through this 😭 As always, I am in no way shape or form trying to convey that TOP and GD are like this in real life. I have an immense amount of love and respect for them and I am simply using them as characters in this story.

synopsis: Hate fucking G-Dragon wasn't your proudest moment. I mean, you kept coming back for more right? But what happens when his best friend suddenly takes an interest in you...

warnings: angst, mentions of smut

wc: 2.4k+

You couldn’t remember exactly when this all started—only that it had been a collision waiting to happen. One drunken night, a heated argument with Jiyong had turned into something neither of you could take back. You still recalled the fire in his eyes, the way his fingers had wrapped around your throat before slamming you against the wall. His lips had crashed against yours, all fury and desperation, his hands roaming your body like he needed to claim every inch of you. Your legs had locked around his waist, his name spilling from your lips between breathless moans as he fucked you against the cool surface. He had buried his face in your tits, groaning with every ragged thrust, his anger bleeding into something darker, something insatiable.

And that’s how it had been for the last six months—rage, resentment, and raw, reckless lust. The fights never stopped, but neither did the sex. The bruises on your skin from his grip always faded just in time for new ones to take their place. It was a secret, one that weighed heavy on your conscience. You hated Jiyong, and he hated you. That was the rule. It was just meaningless, hate-filled sex.

But then, everything changed.

Choi Seunghyun was the opposite of Jiyong in every way. Where Jiyong was sharp edges and biting words, Seunghyun was warmth and patience. He greeted you every morning with a soft smile, a cup of coffee waiting in his hand just for you. He asked about your day, listened intently when you spoke, made you feel seen in a way you hadn't in so long. You found yourself looking forward to those moments, the easy conversations, the way he treated you like you were worth something more than just fleeting pleasure.

And then came Valentine's Day.

Seunghyun stood before you, a bouquet of roses in one hand, a cliché heart-shaped box of chocolates in the other. His expression was shy, almost uncertain as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“There’s, uhm… this new restaurant that just opened up,” he said, his voice hesitant. “I thought maybe we could try it? Together?”

Your heart clenched, your breath catching in your throat.

You knew he liked you. You had felt it in the way he looked at you, in the way he lingered just a little longer whenever he spoke to you. But you never thought he’d actually do something about it. Not when you practically worked for him. 

You stared at the flowers, your mind racing for a response. From the corner of the room, Jiyong sat frozen, his normally unreadable expression cracked wide open. His lips parted slightly, his eyes dark, unblinking as he watched the moment unfold.

You liked Seunghyun. A lot.

But you had been hate-fucking his best friend for months.

“I-uhm…”

Seunghyun’s face faltered for a second before he quickly masked it with a polite smile. “You don’t have to. I mean, you probably already have plans. Just—just forget I asked. Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N.”

He turned to walk away, the blush on his cheeks deepening, but something in you refused to let him leave.

“Wait!” The word slipped out before you could stop it. You barely recognized the sound of your own voice. “I-I’d love to actually…”

Seunghyun’s expression lit up like the sun breaking through storm clouds. “Really? Great! I’ll pick you up at eight?”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you smiled—genuine, unforced. “Sounds great.”

Seunghyun walked away with a barely concealed skip in his step, leaving you standing there, the scent of roses still fresh in the air.

And then the moment shattered.

Jiyong scoffed, the sound slicing through the silence like a blade. You had almost forgotten he was there. Almost.

He sauntered toward you, plucking a single rose from the bouquet and twirling it between his fingers. His lips curled into something cruel, something wounded. “You’re really gonna go out with my best friend? After spending the last six months screaming my name?”

“Shut up, Jiyong,” you snapped, turning away. You didn’t want to have this conversation.

But he wasn’t done. “No, really, I’m curious. You trying to work your way through the whole band, or just the ones closest to me?”

Your blood boiled. “It’s not like that!”

“Oh? Then tell me, what is it like?” He stepped closer, his breath warm against your skin. His voice dropped lower, rougher. “You gonna let him touch you the way I do? Gonna let him fuck you the way I do?”

“I actually like Seunghyun.” The words were out before you could stop them.

Something flickered in Jiyong’s eyes. Something you’d never seen before. His jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring. “We fucked this morning, Y/N,” he bit out, his voice barely above a growl. “This morning.”

You held his gaze, your hands tightening into fists at your sides. “Well, that was the last time.”

You turned on your heel, walking away without another word.

Jiyong’s chest heaved, his hands trembling at his sides. The moment the door shut behind you, he grabbed the glass of water you had left on the table and hurled it against the wall.

The sound of shattering glass filled the empty room.

-

You were the band’s lead stylist, for Christ’s sake. You could dress five grown men in elaborate stage outfits without breaking a sweat, yet here you were, standing in the middle of your bedroom, drowning in rejected dresses. The floor was littered with fabric, discarded options that just didn’t sit right, clinging too tightly in the wrong places or making you feel like a stranger in your own skin. Frustration bubbled in your chest as you yanked yet another dress over your head and then tossing it aside with a huff.

Why was this so hard?

Because this wasn’t just any date.

It was a date with Seunghyun.

Your stomach twisted at the thought. You wanted to look perfect tonight, wanted everything to be effortless, elegant. You wanted to be soft in a way you hadn’t been allowed to be in a long time.

But deep down, a bitter little voice whispered that maybe you didn’t deserve this kind of good.

The ghost of Jiyong’s touch still lingered on your skin—hot, possessive, sinful. Just this morning, his hands had been on you, gripping your thighs, your waist, his lips dragging down your neck as if branding you. The shame of it burned through your chest. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Seunghyun and Jiyong had been best friends since they were kids. This whole situation felt like a betrayal waiting to happen.

But then there was Seunghyun himself—kind, gentle, thoughtful. The type of man you’d once dreamed of, back before your life had been tangled in the mess of lust and hate. He was the kind of man who took his time, who cherished, who actually cared. And more than anything, you liked him.

And you didn’t like Jiyong. 

…Right?

Jiyong was infuriating, arrogant, selfish. He pushed all your buttons, knew exactly how to set your blood on fire. That’s what fueled it, wasn’t it? The hatred, the push and pull, the way you loathed the very sight of him until you were pinned beneath him, gasping his name.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t love. It was nothing.

You exhaled sharply, forcing the thoughts from your head. Your fingers smoothed down the black dress that hugged your curves, the sleek fabric clinging in just the right places. It was classy, yet undeniably sexy. This was the one.

You slipped on your black heels, threw on a matching cardigan, and checked yourself one last time in the mirror. A final touch of gloss on your lips, a quick fix of your hair—then the doorbell rang.

Your heart leapt.

You swallowed hard, inhaling deeply before hurrying to the door. When you pulled it open, the sight of Seunghyun standing there sent warmth through your chest. He looked effortlessly handsome, dressed in a dark suit, a soft grin tugging at his lips.

“Seunghyun! Hi!” you greeted, your smile bright but nervous.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he said smoothly, pulling something from behind his back—a single black dahlia. “Jiyong said these were your favorite.”

The breath hitched in your throat.

Jiyong.

Your fingers froze before hesitantly reaching for the flower. “Jiyong told you that?”

Seunghyun nodded, looking at you expectantly. “Yeah, he said you mentioned it once, that you love dahlias. Did he get it wrong?” His voice was light, playful, but his brows furrowed slightly, as if sensing your hesitation.

You forced yourself to push the unease away, offering him a smile. “No… he got it right. I do love them. Especially black ones.” You ran your fingers gently over the petals. “Thank you, Seunghyun. It’s beautiful.”

But your mind was already spinning.

Why the hell would Jiyong tell him that? Had they talked about this date? What else had Jiyong said? Was he trying to sabotage you? Or was this his way of reminding you—of digging his claws in and making sure you never truly forgot about him?

“Ready to go?” Seunghyun’s voice pulled you back to the present.

You blinked, shaking the thoughts away. “Yeah! Let me just grab my purse.”

You set the flower down carefully on the table in the entryway before grabbing your bag and stepping out into the night.

-

The car ride was quiet, but comfortable. Seunghyun didn’t push conversation, choosing instead to let the soft hum of music fill the space between you. The city lights blurred past outside the window, and for the first time all day, you felt yourself relax.

When you arrived at the restaurant, Seunghyun was a perfect gentleman, stepping out first and opening the door for you. He offered his arm as he led you inside, giving his name to the host.

Almost immediately, you were ushered to a private dining room.

The scene was breathtaking—dim lighting, flickering candles, a pristine white tablecloth and delicate wine glasses. It was intimate, romantic in a way that sent warmth creeping up your neck.

“Wow, Seunghyun…” You turned in awe, drinking in the effort he had put into this. “This is… this is beautiful.”

His lips quirked into a pleased smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

He moved to pull out your chair for you, and you found yourself smiling as you sat. When he took his seat across from you, he grabbed the bottle of wine, pouring for both of you before lifting his glass.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, his gaze warm.

You chuckled softly, clinking your glass against his. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

As the night went on, conversation flowed effortlessly. He was easy to talk to, his voice soothing, his words thoughtful. He spoke about art, about music, and you found yourself telling him about your passion for fashion in a way you hadn’t in a long time. There was no competition here, no venom, no tension like there always was with Jiyong.

By the time the date ended, he walked you to your front door, lingering for just a moment before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you for tonight,” he murmured.

You bit your lip, watching as he walked away, a giddy warmth blooming in your chest. You wanted more, but you liked that he didn’t rush. That he wasn’t like—

You opened the door to your apartment, stepping inside.

And then your stomach dropped.

“How’d it go?”

The voice sent ice down your spine.

Jiyong was sitting on your couch, the flickering light from the TV casting sharp shadows across his face.

Your smile vanished instantly. “How the hell did you get in here?”

He smirked, holding up a key. “I have a key to everyone’s place. I’m G-Dragon, remember?”

“I’m changing my locks,” you snapped.

He chuckled darkly, rising to his feet. “So? Did Seunghyun make you feel all warm and special inside?” His voice was laced with mockery, but beneath it, something else simmered.

“He’s respectful,” you shot back. “Not that you’d know anything about that.”

Jiyong stepped closer, his smirk widening. “Or maybe he’s just too shy.” His eyes flickered with something dangerous. “Me and him have always differed in that area.”

“Maybe I like him that way.”

His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, slow, teasing. “What you like, princess, is getting fucked. Hard. By me.”

You barely had a moment to react before Jiyong’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, tugging you forward with enough force to send you colliding against his chest. The scent of him—cigarettes, expensive cologne, and something distinctly Jiyong—swallowed you whole, making your knees weak before he even said a word.

His grip was firm, unyielding, his body heat seeping through the fabric of your dress. Your breath hitched as his other hand ghosted up your arm, trailing lightly over your shoulder before settling at the base of your neck, his thumb pressing just enough to make your pulse race. His voice was a whisper, a slow drag of smoke and sin against your lips.

“Tell me you’re not dripping for me right now.”

Your breath shuddered. You tried to will yourself into stillness, to force your body to resist the pull he had over you. But the way he looked at you—his dark eyes hooded, lips just barely parted—had your resolve cracking apart like fragile glass.

“I—I’m not…” The words barely made it past your lips, trembling and unsure.

Jiyong hummed, the sound low and knowing. His hand left your wrist, trailing lower, fingers brushing the hem of your dress. You knew what was coming, knew you should stop him—but you didn’t.

His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, slow and deliberate, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh before sliding upward, pressing right where you were aching for him most.

Your body betrayed you.

He exhaled sharply, his smirk sharpening as he felt the undeniable heat and wetness pooling there. His lips ghosted the shell of your ear, voice dripping with amusement.

“Liar.”

Shame surged through you, burning hot and unrelenting. You should push him away. You should tell him to get the hell out.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you stood there, your body betraying you in the worst possible way. Your thighs clenched around his fingers involuntarily, your breath coming in shallow, needy little gasps.

Jiyong didn’t move, didn’t press further—he was waiting. Waiting for you to break first, to give in, to confirm what he already knew.

And you did.

“Maybe just…” Your voice came out weak, barely above a whisper. You swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut before forcing yourself to admit the inevitable. “Just one more time.”

The moment the words left your lips, his smirk deepened, satisfaction darkening his features.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his grip tightening before he crushed his lips against yours, consuming you whole.

Tags: @fr3akyyg1rll @heuningpie @sapph1r3x @moondooll @tranquilty @noharaaa @mariaxman @dear-satan @infinetlyforgotten @staryscorner @blu-brrys @come-as-you-are-111 @nicklet94 @vamplivivi @3mma-lovely @hanadulsetaad @sayugarper @forevervibezzzz1 @shieraseastarrs @mooonologyy @skzdreamz @stillpervert @seunghyunwifey @juliskopf @mirahyun @mattsturniolosbabymama @kai-277 @rotten-toenails @i-might-be-vanny @zzhengyu @petersasteria @manuzicaveyr @gdinthehouseee

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

[watchinglikeafangirl]

Why I stayed for FadelStyle

I know, many of us started Heart Killers because of FirstKhao but actually stayed for JoongDunk. I wasn't invested in JoongDunk before, I watched "star in my mind" and of course "hidden agenda". I liked them in "hidden agenda" but something about FirstKhao feels different. They have a different vibe on camera, so I was excited to see them again. And yes, I was very pleasantly surprised to see JoongDunk as well, because I didn't think they would star in a show as mature as this one. But I'm very glad they did.

Fadel and Style's romance feels somewhat natural. Dunk playing a very loud and flirty character really suits him and Joong playing a character who is flustered by him all the time is just a very good match.

The most interesting thing is, I didn't buy Fadel and Style's romance until episode 6.

While Kant and Bison seem to be falling fast while leaving a bitter taste, Fadel and Style fall at their own pace and make each other better. The difference is, Kant and Bison are the same characters from start to finish, the only difference is they are boyfriends in the end. I don't see much growth or change in them. Kant starts this whole relationship under false intentions and there isn't a specific moment when it's shown he really fell for Bison. Not until Bison gets stabbed and then they are on that island and suddenly there are deep love confessions. It's like they skipped all the steps and just landed at the very end. And it's not just Kant, we don't know when Bison actually fell for Kant. Because Bison seems to love the idea of Kant and what Kant stands for. For Bison, Kant is freedom, a fresh start, but when did Bison actually develop feelings that go much further and deeper than that? We don't see it, there is not a moment when I knew.

Episode 6 is my favourite episode, I think it's the best one. The plot is there, the pacing is exactly right, the characters and their relationships get more depth. It marks the moment I realized Fadel fell hard and Style lives on cloud nine. There is a specific scene, I could rewatch it over and over because it is soo good. The thing with Fadel and Style is, they change each other for the better. They are not the same people in episode 12, they both found completion, they found inner peace with themselves. And it's all there when Fadel and Style go out to this metal concert to have fun for the last time. Before shit goes down, before Style wants Fadel to stay over, before Fadel cries. It's when Style convinces Fadel to put on some make-up as well.

"Try just being someone you want to be. We'll do it together. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Because even if Style wouldn't know about Fadel, this scene in itself means so much. And Fadel's look when Style says those words... He found someone who accepts him, everything, and he is not judged, Style is not scared, he embraces their love. I was on the verge of tears. It's a very genuine and sincere scene. That's when I knew, Style was really all in and there was no way back for him.

And of course, we can't talk about FadelStyle without mentioning the dance in the burger joint. Because that is when everybody could see how deep Fadel fell, how lost he felt when he found out it was a lie. He didn't have anything to lose any more because it already felt like dying. So he confesses and cries in silence so Style wouldn't know. I talked about this scene in depth, right here. It's when I knew there is no going back to how things were.

In episode 8, there is a very confusing scene - the editing is weird. It's when Fadel and Style sleep at the motel and Style starts crying. Because this scene is not quiet in any second, there's some comedic background music when Style starts talking, as if he's fake crying. But the things he says are very true. And then the music shifts to some sad piano and he starts crying for real. It's like, did he try to cover up his sadness with humour until he actually cried? It would make sense for his characters but the editing is so weird.

"Are you crying?"

The way Fadel asks so softly. It's the moment we really know, he will never kill Style. Until this point, I wasn't 100% sure but after he showed his concern, I was no longer afraid of some tragedy.

The scene I felt deeply and a scene that still lingers in my head. The song I keep listening to. It's episode 10. Of course it is. But honestly, I can't stress this enough. Fadel and Style have reached a point in their relationship that goes far deeper than a love confession. Because Fadel shows emotions he doesn't even show to himself. It's his darkest moment, his most pathetic feeling, his ugliest cry. But Style stays with him, because of course he does. Style doesn't say "I love you" very often because it's not something that needs to be said all the time. He just shows everything. He holds Fadel, he reassures him, he stays. And Fadel cries on his lap. It's worth more than any words. And it's why I could no longer root for Kant and Bison. Because they keep saying they love each other while there is no depth. Kant just tries to make a fire to make food but that's no deep connection. That's just childish and doesn't mean anything when it comes to their relationship. It's like the writers missed opportunities, we never get to see Kant and Bison bond. Do they ever talk about things that matter? About how they felt? They talk about grief for 10 seconds but that's it They are just together and they love each other, just because. Because the story needs them to. While Fadel and Style actually share emotions, they matter to each other, they try to live with each other.

Let me tell you, I am obsessed with the way Fadel becomes physically attatched to Style after episode 10. He hugs and sniffs Style like five times after that and I am living for it. It's the most relatable and lovely guesture.

Soooo, let's talk episode 12 because if somebody would ever do something for me like that, I'm gonna cry, faint, laugh, die - I don't know. Because what do you mean Style bought Fadel's burger joint back? What do you mean it's now their restaurant? What do you mean he already planned their future together? No one can put into words how much this guesture means. It's overwhelmingly a lot of love. It's just kinda funny to me how Fadel handles it because he doesn't seem to be THAT surprised. I was shocked, words mean nothing, it's just so much. I want to find a love like that.

I always thought Style saved Fadel but now I think, they just saved each other. Because even if Style is the one who did that grand guesture and even if Style is the one who started to initiate most moments, he was lost too. They made each other less lonely. They have a grave together. Their story is epic.

I recommend this video. It sums up why FadelStyle felt more real and why everyone rooted for them instead of KantBison.

[szariahwroteit]

Girls Need Love: A Kylian Mbappè x Original Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 8

“How do match days work?” Giselle wondered aloud, her voice soft and curious as she nestled comfortably in Kylian’s bed. The morning light spilled through the curtains, casting a warm glow around them, and she turned her head to meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Giselle had been in Madrid for a few days. During that time, she spent her days lounging around Kylian's house while he was away at training and attending to other commitments. She entertained herself during the day, and in the evenings, when he returned, she found herself completely wrapped up in him.

“You have me for the morning, and then my driver will be here at noon to take me to our training ground,” Kylian explained, his hands slipping beneath the back of Giselle's oversized T-shirt.

“And then?” she asked softly, her hands reaching to cup his face.

Kylian smiled, his fingers gently tracing the contours of her waist as he pulled her closer. “Then it’s all about preparation. The hours leading up to a match are crucial. I’ll have to focus, prepare my body, and get into the right headspace.”

“What do you think about while you're playing?” Giselle asked curiously.

Kylian paused momentarily, contemplating her question as his fingers continued their gentle exploration. He could feel the warmth radiating from her body, the intimacy of their morning together.

"During the game, I think about how I can contribute to the match and make everyone around me better,” he responded, low and steady voice.

Women had asked him many questions, but there was something about the way Giselle listened and her eyes held his with genuine curiosity that made him want to share every aspect of his world with her. She was different, and he found himself opening up more than he ever expected.

“Do you ever get distracted?” she asked, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “By fans, or the pressure of the game?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “But it’s the good kind of distraction. The excitement of the crowd, the adrenaline rush—it fills me with energy. I guess my mind wanders to who’s in the stands, cheering for me… or booing, depending on how the match is going.”

Giselle laughed, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest. “I can't wait to watch you play later,” she said, her tone playful yet sincere.

“You are going to make me nervous,” Kylian teased, his smirk widening as he pulled her closer, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.

Her laughter danced in the air between them, creating an inviting realm of intimacy. “I promise not to,” she said, her voice sultry as she leaned in to plant a lingering kiss on his lips. Kylian responded instantly, deepening the kiss as his fingers grazed over her back, slipping beneath the waistband of her underwear.

Kylian's phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking the moment. He groaned against Giselle's lips, reluctantly pulling away to glance at the screen. It was his older brother who acted as part of his management, reminding him about a press conference scheduled for later that day.

"Fuck," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I have to be at the stadium in an hour for a press conference."

Giselle pouted, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "Duty calls," she smiled tiredly, her voice still laced with sleep.

Sitting up and bringing Giselle with him, Kylian took a moment to appreciate how the morning light framed her silhouette. There was something eternally captivating about her—her warmth, the way she effortlessly drew him in.

“I am going to call my sister to pick you up and bring you to the game tonight.” he proposed, making Giselle’s body go stiff with realization.

In her haste to leave Milan following her run-in with Jalen, Giselle hadn't considered that being with Kylian meant being around his people.

“Your sister?” Giselle asked, her cheeks warming.

“My brother’s wife, Melissa,” he clarified, a hint of amusement in his voice at her sudden shyness. “She’s really nice, and I think you two will get along great.”

Giselle felt a mix of excitement and anxiety twist within her. “I’m sure she is, but... I mean, what if she thinks the worst of me?”

Kylian chuckled softly, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “I don't, and that's what matters.”

Giselle met his gaze, searching for reassurance in the depths of Kylian's eyes. The warmth of his touch eased her apprehension slightly, but the reality of stepping into his world—the glamorous, public life he inhabited—filled her with self-doubt.

“What if she asks about why I’m here?” Giselle's voice was hesitant, her heart racing at the thought. She had always been guarded about her history, wary of judgment.

Kylian leaned closer, his brow furrowing slightly. “She won't. And if she does, you are here because I want you here and because you want to be here.”

The sincerity in Kylian's voice sent a soothing warmth coursing through Giselle, grounding her amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

“My mind is all over the place,” she admitted softly, the confession slipping past her lips like a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

Lifting Giselle with him as he stood from his warm bed, Kylian laid her back down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before making his way into the bathroom.

Kylian emerged from the bathroom around ten minutes later, a towel slung over his head and another wrapped low around his hips. He moved with an effortless grace, the muscles in his chest and abdomen rippling with each step. Giselle's eyes traced the lines of his body, admiring the way the morning light played across his skin.

"I have to get ready," he said, his voice a low rumble as he crossed the room and walked into his closet. He pulled out a crisp white T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants brandishing his team's logo and laid them on the bed beside Giselle. "Do you want to leave the house today?” Kylian asked as he pulled on his shirt.

Giselle shrugged, sitting up and pulling the blankets around her. She watched as Kylian dressed, his movements efficient and purposeful.

“I’m okay with staying here until later,” she answered, her tone contemplative. Over the past few days, she had been enjoying his home's solitude.

“You don't want to go shopping?” he smirked knowingly. “Anything you want.”

“You know that's not what I expect of you?” Giselle asked. “You don't have to spend on me.”

“I know you have your own,” Kylian chuckled, kneeling onto the bed to press his forehead against hers.

In the three weeks he had known her, he'd seen Giselle sporting multiple Hèrmes purses. He also noticed in her clothes that she had a thing for quiet luxury.

Kylian's phone buzzed again, with a message from his sister-in-law, Melissa. He glanced at the screen, a small smile playing on his lips. "Melissa will pick you up at six. I'll make sure she has all the details."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Giselle's lips before pulling away reluctantly. "I have to go. But I'll see you tonight, okay?"

Giselle nodded, her heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him play for the first time. "Okay. I'll be ready."

Kylian stood, grabbing his keys and phone before heading towards the door. He paused, turning back to look at Giselle one last time before leaving his bedroom and heading downstairs to leave the house.

Giselle watched Kylian leave, a flurry of emotions racing through her. She could hardly believe how quickly the past few days had unfolded. Her heart was full of excitement as she anticipated the match, but a small knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach at the thought of interacting with his sister-in-law.

The sun drifted lazily across the sky as she nestled back into the soft sheets, contemplating the upcoming evening. Part of her wanted to venture out, to explore Madrid and seek a glimpse of the vibrant city that buzzed just outside Kylian’s doorstep. But somehow, the thought of having a day to herself, savoring the tranquil moments until she would see him again, felt just right.

After some time of indulging in the plush cocoon of the bed, Giselle decided it was time to get moving. She slipped out from under the blankets, the cool air sending little shivers across her skin, and made her way to the bathroom to freshen up.

Standing in front of the mirror, she took a long look at herself. A lingering smile played at the corners of her lips as memories of Kylian filled her thoughts—the shared laughter, the warmth of his skin against hers, the way his eyes sparkled in the morning light. She felt a glow of confidence wash over her; she was here, right where she wanted to be.

After a quick shower, Giselle dressed in a comfortable yet stylish ensemble. It was simple but flattering, accentuating her figure while allowing her to feel relaxed and, most importantly, warm.

After preparing something to eat, cleaning up behind herself, and watching all the television her brain could manage, there were still a few hours to kill until Kylian’s sister-in-law was set to pick her up. She found herself on FaceTime with Camille, who was absolutely disgusted by what Jalen had done in Milan and equally impressed by Kylian for stepping up and flying her to Madrid.

“Are you going to report Jalen to the authorities?” Camille asked, a pout on her lips as she listened intently to Giselle's story, her brow furrowed in concern.

Giselle sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter as she absently stirred her drink. “I don’t know, Cam. Part of me wants to, but another part just wants to leave it all behind. I’m in Madrid now and want to focus on what’s in front of me—not what happened back in Milan.”

Camille nodded, her expression a mix of support and understanding. "I get that. You deserve this time to breathe and enjoy yourself. Plus, Kylian is a great guy."

A smile crept across Giselle's face at her friend's encouragement. “You’re right. Being with him is... intoxicating. I don't even know what to call this, but it feels right.”

“It felt right from the first night,” Camille smirked teasingly, making Giselle laugh.

Giselle and Camille caught up on everything, sharing laughter and stories as the hours passed. The conversation flowed effortlessly, with Camille encouraging Giselle to embrace every moment with Kylian and reminding her that she deserved happiness, especially after everything she’d been through.

“But what about tonight?” Camille asked, her brow quirking. “You’re going to meet the sister-in-law and watch Kylian play. Are you ready for all that?”

Giselle’s stomach fluttered at the thought, excitement, and anxiety mingling within her. “I want to be ready. I just hope I don’t embarrass myself or say something stupid.“

Although Kylian spoke highly of her, Giselle had to view the situation logically. She and Kylian were only involved sexually; there were no titles or clear definitions of their relationship. If his family chose not to accept her, they truly didn't have to welcome her.

As the clock struck six, Giselle heard the sound of a car pulling up outside Kylian's house. Her heart raced as she grabbed her purse and made her way to the door, taking a deep breath before stepping outside.

A sleek, black Range Rover was parked in the driveway, and a woman with warm, hazel eyes and a friendly smile stood by the passenger door. She had an elegant air about her, her hair pulled back into a chic bun, and she wore a stylish yet comfortable outfit that spoke of a refined taste.

"Giselle, I presume?" the woman asked, extending her hand. "I'm Melissa, Kylian's sisterinlaw. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Giselle shook her hand, immediately feeling at ease with Melissa's welcoming demeanor. "The pleasure is mine, Melissa. Thank you for picking me up."

Melissa's smile widened as she opened the car door for Giselle. "Please, get in. I'm excited to spend some time with you before the match. Kylian has told me so much about you."

As Giselle slid into the luxurious interior of the SUV, Melissa closed the door behind her and walked around to the driver's side. Once settled in, she turned to Giselle with a curious expression.

"So, Giselle, Kylian mentioned you're an actress. That's fascinating. Have you worked on any projects I might have heard of?" Melissa asked, pulling out of the driveway and merging onto the bustling Madrid streets.

Giselle felt a flutter of nerves at the question, but Melissa's genuine interest helped put her at ease. "Well, I've done a few films and TV shows, but nothing too major yet. I'm still working on building my career. Modeling takes up most of my time right now," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Melissa nodded understandingly, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. "That's wonderful, Giselle. The entertainment industry can be challenging, but I have no doubt that your talent will take you far. Kylian speaks highly of you and doesn't do that lightly."

As they navigated the city streets, Melissa pointed out various landmarks and shared anecdotes about Madrid. Her warmth and hospitality made Giselle feel at home, dispelling any lingering anxieties about meeting Kylian's family.

"So, what do you think of Madrid so far?" Melissa asked, glancing at Giselle with a smile. "Have you had a chance to explore the city?"

Giselle shook her head, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "Actually, I've been mostly staying at Kylian's house. I've been enjoying the quiet moments."

Melissa's expression softened, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Ah, I see," Melissa said, her tone gentle and understanding.

Giselle was grateful that Melissa didn't pry any further. She didn't sense any judgment from the older woman, but it was still difficult to explain how she ended up in Madrid after fleeing fashion week to escape her abusive ex.

Instead, Giselle opted to steer the conversation in a more positive direction. "But the city seems beautiful! I hope I can explore it before I head home.”

Melissa's eyes brightened. "Oh! There’s so much to see. I’d love to be your tour guide while you're in town. The museums, the parks, even the local markets—there's always something happening in Madrid,” she gushed, her Parisian accent thickening.

Giselle felt a wave of relief wash over her. The prospect of sharing experiences with Melissa felt comforting. "That sounds great! I’d love to."

As they continued driving, the anticipation in Giselle's chest built steadily. Their conversation flowed naturally, and she found herself opening up about her passion for the arts, sharing what inspired her to pursue her career, and even discussing her love of music and dance.

"You seem to have a wonderful energy, Giselle," Melissa commented, glancing over with genuine admiration. "I can see why Kylian is so captivated by you."

Giselle’s cheeks flushed as Melissa spoke, both flattered and shy that Kylian had spoken to Melissa about her.

As they approached the stadium, the excitement surrounding the match between Real Madrid and Manchester City became more evident. Hundreds of fans were already gathered outside of the stadium, their cheers and chants echoing in the air, creating an electric atmosphere that sent a thrill through Giselle. She could feel the energy radiating from the crowd, a palpable excitement that made her heart race.

Melissa drove passed security and into an underground garage, parking the cer before turning to Giselle, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Are you ready for this? It’s always an incredible experience!"

Giselle nodded, her nerves bubbling beneath the surface. "I think so! I can’t believe I’m excited to see Kylian play."

Melissa smiled warmly, her expression encouraging.

As they stepped out of the car, Giselle took a deep breath, trying to absorb the moment. The stadium loomed ahead, a magnificent structure that seemed to pulse with life. Fans donned jerseys, waved flags, and shared excited conversations, all eagerly anticipating the match.

Melissa led the way through the throngs of fans, her presence exuding confidence and warmth. Giselle followed closely, feeling comfortable in her company. They made their way to the entrance, where Melissa flashed her credentials, and they were ushered inside.

Once inside, the atmosphere shifted. The sounds of the crowd became a distant roar, replaced by the rhythmic thumping of her heart as they walked through the corridors adorned with team memorabilia. Giselle marveled at the history surrounding her, the legacy of the club evident in every corner.

Melissa guided her to a private suite overlooking the pitch. The view was breathtaking, and Giselle felt a rush of excitement as she took in the vibrant green field, the players warming up, and the sea of fans filling the stands.

"Wow," Giselle breathed, her eyes wide with wonder. "This is incredible."

Melissa chuckled softly, her gaze following Giselle's. "It really is something special. You’ll get to see Kylian in his element. Just wait until the game starts; the energy is unlike anything else."

As they settled into their seats, Giselle felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety. She glanced around the suite, noting the other guests mingling and chatting, some familiar faces she recognized from the sports world. It was a world she had only glimpsed from afar, and now she was right in the middle of it.

"Are you okay?" Melissa asked, noticing Giselle's slight tension.

Giselle nodded, forcing a smile. "Just a little nervous, I guess. I want to support Kylian, but I hope I don’t embarrass myself, I'd be lying if I said I knew anything about football."

Melissa reached over, giving Giselle's hand a reassuring squeeze. "You’ll be just fine. Just cheer for him, and enjoy the game."

As the minutes ticked down to kickoff, the excitement in the suite grew. Giselle found herself swept up in the atmosphere, the camaraderie of the fans, and the thrill of the impending match. She could feel her heart racing, not just from the excitement of the game but from the thought of seeing Kylian in action.

When the players finally emerged onto the pitch, the crowd erupted into cheers, and Giselle's breath caught in her throat. Kylian looked focused and determined, his presence commanding as he jogged onto the field. She felt a surge of pride wash over her, knowing that he was about to showcase his talent in front of thousands.

As the match began, Giselle found herself on the edge of her seat, her eyes glued to Kylian. She cheered along with the crowd, her heart swelling with every touch of the ball, every sprint down the field. The energy was infectious, and she felt herself getting lost in the game, her worries momentarily forgotten.

Melissa cheered beside her, sharing in the excitement, and Giselle felt a sense of belonging. She was part of something bigger, a community of fans united in their support for Kylian and the team.

As the game progressed, the intensity on the field escalated. Kylian danced across the pitch with unparalleled finesse, weaving through defenders with ease. The crowd roared with each thrilling play, their voices creating a symphony of energy that pulsed through Giselle's entire being.

"He's amazing, isn't he?" Melissa shouted over the cheers, beaming with pride. Giselle nodded in agreement, her heart pounding in symmetry with the rhythm of the game.

Minutes into the first half, Kylian received the ball near the edge of the box. Giselle held her breath as she watched him prepare for what felt like a pivotal moment. With a swift flick of his foot, he sent the ball soaring past the goalkeeper, threading it into the net like a knife. The stadium erupted into chaos—a cacophony of cheers, whistles, and jubilant cries.

Giselle leaped to her feet, her hands clapping enthusiastically as she joined the chorus of celebration. Kylian's triumphant smile spread across his face as he celebrated with his teammates, a pure expression of joy and determination that made her heart flutter. In that moment, she felt a connection—he was not just a player on a field; he was passionate, alive, and right there, playing for her.

Melissa exclaimed, her excitement contagious. "This is just the beginning!"

As the match continued, Kylian demonstrated why he was regarded as one of the best. He moved flawlessly, his every kick calculated, every sprint purposeful. Yet it was more than just skill; it was his spirit. Giselle could see it in his eyes as he played—an unwavering focus, a fiery ambition that translated into every play he made.

The second half kicked off, and the tension in the air was palpable. Manchester City intensified their attack, and the match swung in favor of the visitors for a time, threatening to equalize the score. Giselle held her breath, anxiety washing over her.

"Kylian!" she whispered, the name tumbling from her lips like a prayer.

In a stunning counterattack, Kylian intercepted a pass at midfield and launched down the field like a bullet, his movements fluid and athletic. He found himself face to face with the last defender, and without hesitation, executed a flawless step over that left the defender spinning. Rushing toward the goal, Kylian struck the ball again with precision, sending it into the bottom corner of the net, just out of reach of the diving goalkeeper.

The stadium erupted once more, a tidal wave of sound crashing over Giselle as she jumped up, her heart soaring with him.

"Another one!" Melissa yelled, clapping her hands wildly. "He’s unstoppable tonight!"

In the ensuing moments, the players on both teams grew more aggressive, the referee occasionally blowing his whistle to restore order. The tension was palpable as they fought tooth and nail for control of the game. When Manchester City finally found their footing and seemed poised to score, relief washed over Giselle as Kylian sprang into action.

With time ticking away and the score still two-nil, Kylian made a daring play, driving forward and evading two defenders while maintaining his balance. The crowd held its breath, and Melissa's hand gripped Giselle's arm tightly as they both leaned forward in unison.

And then it happened. Kylian sent the ball sailing again—this time, it was a stunning, long-range shot that curved beautifully mid-flight, leaving the goalkeeper frozen in disbelief. The ball sailed into the back of the net, an exquisite finish that sealed his hat-trick.

The stadium erupted into an explosion of jubilation, the noise deafening and electric. "Oh my God!" Melissa shouted, wrapping her arm around Giselle and pulling her in for a quick embrace. Giselle could feel her heart racing in time with the crowd, the pure exhilaration of the moment reverberating through her.

Blue and white confetti fell from the heavens of the Santiago Bernabeu stadium, in celebration of Real Madrid’s advancement in the race for the Champions League trophy.

“Are you ready to see him?” Melissa smiled knowingly, checking a message on her phone. “My husband just messaged to tell us to head down to the dressing room,” she explained, dropping her phone back into her Chanel crossbody.

Taking Giselle’s hand into hers, Melissa led her away from the excitement of the suite, navigating through the maze of jubilant fans and team staff towards the locker room area. The air thickened with the scent of sweat, grass, and triumph, a sensory overload that made Giselle’s heart pound faster with anticipation.

As they approached the dressing room, the atmosphere shifted. The sounds of celebration echoed from behind the closed doors, punctuated by laughter and the occasional cheer. Melissa turned to Giselle, her expression both warm and reassuring.

“He’ll be so thrilled to see you,” Melissa said, her smile radiant. “Just be yourself; from what I've heard, he likes that about you.”

Giselle swallowed hard but managed a nod, the whirlwind of emotions churning inside her—a mixture of eagerness to see Kylian and the lingering anxiety of being the outsider in this vibrant world of sports.

“You ready?” Melissa asked, gently squeezing her hand before pushing open the door.

The sight that met Giselle’s eyes was nothing short of exhilarating. Players were celebrating in various states of undress, the room alive with energy. Amidst the chaos, Kylian stood out, his expressive demeanor radiating pure joy as teammates showered him with congratulations for his stellar performance.

The moment Kylian's gaze caught Giselle’s, everything else faded into the background. Time seemed to stand still as he rushed towards her, his eyes sparkling with delight. The triumphant grin that stretched across his face made her heart flutter as he pulled her into his arms.

Kylian didn't care that he was in the presence of his teammates as his hands found Giselle's hips. His head bowed as he pressed his lips to hers, the kiss hot and drawn-out as he parted her lips with his tongue.

He was on a high after playing in one of the most remarkable games thus far in a Real Madrid jersey, his adrenaline still pumping through his veins. The thrill of victory was intoxicating, and having Giselle waiting for him after the game was the cherry on top of an already euphoric evening.

“Congratulations on an amazing match,” Giselle blushed as they parted lips, now conscious of the fact that they were standing among his teammates and their families and friends.

“Thank you,” Kylian smirked as he ran the pad of his thumb along Giselle’s plump bottom lip. “Thank you for coming to me.”

Melissa watched the interaction between Giselle and Kylian with an approving smile, sensing the chemistry that crackled between them. She loved how comfortable Giselle was in Kylian’s presence, how effortlessly they connected. “You really lit up the pitch tonight. You were incredible!” she added, clearly proud of her brother-in-law.

Kylian shined brighter under the praise, his confidence evident as he shrugged it off, catching Giselle’s hand with his. “My muse,” he murmured into her ear, sending tremors of warmth through Giselle's chest.

Kylian led Giselle over to where his brother and Melissa stood and instantly, the nerves she felt earlier that day had returned.

She had by some stroke of luck won over Melissa, but the moment she stood before Kylian's brother, she felt the weight of judgment again. He was taller than Kylian, a more solid presence, with a serious expression that made her heart race.

"Hey, I’m Jirès," he said, his gaze appraising but not unkind. "You must be Giselle."

Giselle managed a smile, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. "Nice to meet you," she replied, feeling Kylian's presence beside her like a reassuring anchor.

After Kylian introduced Giselle, a member of the media staff pulled him away to address the media following a perfect night on the pitch.

Giselle watched as Kylian seamlessly transitioned into his role as a public figure, his demeanor shifting to one of professionalism and charm. She admired the confident way he interacted with reporters, the ease with which he answered questions while maintaining that infectious smile. It was clear that in front of the camera, Kylian was as magnetic as he was on the field.

“I think it’s important to have your muses,” Kylian smirked as his eyes met Giselle, confirming the subtle nod to her on such an amazing evening.

Her cheeks flushed, and her mind swirled as she watched Kylian speak to multiple media outlets before he was finally released to head to the showers and freshen up.

Once he had showered and changed, Kylian joined Giselle and his family so they could leave the stadium and head back to his house.

In the privacy of his home, Kylian was finally able to decompress. His nerves were still on edge, and his mind was racing after such an eventful match. Jirès and Melissa had left shortly after arriving, leaving him alone with Giselle, who sat quietly beside him.

She watched the slow rise and fall of his muscular chest as he lay spread across his living room sofa, calming down after all the excitement. The chaotic energy of the stadium seemed to dissipate, and the quiet ambiance of his home wrapped around them.

Unable to stop herself, Giselle placed her hand on Kylian's crotch, palming him through his jeans as his eyes flickered open to meet hers.

Kylian's eyes widened slightly at Giselle's bold move, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked up at her. "Someone's eager," he murmured, his voice low and husky. He leaned into her touch, his body responding instantly to her gentle caress.

Giselle bit her lip, her heart racing as she felt him grow harder beneath her palm. "You were amazing tonight," she whispered, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his jeans. "I couldn't keep my eyes off you."

Kylian's breath hitched as she slid her hand inside his pants, wrapping her fingers around his hardening length. "Fuck, Giselle," he groaned, his hips bucking slightly into her touch. "You have no idea what you do to me."

She stroked him slowly, reveling in the feel of his smooth skin and the way he throbbed in her hand. "Show me,"

Standing to her feet, Giselle reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head to reveal her breasts to him, before pulling down her leggings so she stood before him in nothing but a flesh-colored thong.

Kylian's eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of Giselle's nearly naked form. He sat up, his gaze raking over her curves appreciatively. "Come here," he commanded, his voice husky with want.

Giselle stepped closer, standing between his spread legs as he reached out to pull her onto his lap. His hands roamed her body possessively, caressing her breasts and squeezing her ass. He leaned in, pressing hot kisses along her neck and collarbone.

"You drive me crazy," Kylian murmured against her skin, his breath hot and heavy. "I can't think straight when I'm around you."

Giselle gasped as she felt his hardness pressing against her through her thong. She grinded against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her body. "Then don't think," she breathed, tangling her fingers in his hair. "Just feel."

Helping Kylian to his feet, Giselle took her time undressing him, exploring his perfect physique as he kept his eyes on her.

When he stood before her completely bare, she kissed her way down his body, sinking to her knees so she came face to face with his hardening cock.

Kylian groaned as Giselle's warm breath brushed against his sensitive skin. He watched, his eyes darkening with lust, as she wrapped her hand around his shaft and began to pump it slowly.

"Fuck, Giselle," he hissed, his fingers tangling in her hair. "Your mouth feels so good."

“Open up,” Kylian instructed, groaning as Giselle obediently tilted her back and parted her lips. She was truly a sight to behold. Her hair was tussled, her lips were swollen from sucking his cock, and saliva dripped from her chin onto her breast, meandering down her taut stomach and catching on the hem of her thong.

Kylian's eyes raked over Giselle's body, taking in every detail with a hungry gaze. He loved seeing her vulnerable, obedient, and utterly at his mercy. As she opened her mouth, he couldn't help but smirk, feeling a surge of power and dominance.

Leaning into Giselle, Kylian let a bead of saliva fall from his lips into her mouth. Giselle's eyes fluttered closed as she savored the taste of Kylian's saliva, swallowing it. She loved submitting to him, letting him use her body as he pleased. Feeling his hot breath on her face, she parted her lips wider, inviting him to spit in her mouth again.

As Kylian obliged, Giselle felt a surge of wetness between her legs. She was so turned on by his dominance, by the way he was treating her like his personal plaything. Arching her back, she pressed her breasts against his chest, silently begging for more.

Standing back at his full height, a chill ran the length of Kylian's spine as Giselle took his dick back into her mouth, watching him as she felt the tip press against the back of her throat.

Giselle’s eyes glossed over with tears as she fought against her body's natural instinct to gag, placing her hands on Kylian’s strong thighs to steady herself.

Pulling away from his cock with a gasp as she caught her breath, allowing the spit that had accumulated to drip freely down her body.

“So messy,” Kylian groaned in awe, reaching out to pinch her right nipple between his fingers.

Kylian's eyes darkened with lust as he watched Giselle's spit drip down her body, marking her as his. He loved being the one to turn her out this messy and completely free. With a growl, he eased her back onto his cock, not giving her a chance to catch her breath.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so perfect," he groaned, his hips thrusting forward as he fucked her face. Giselle gagged and choked around his length, tears streaming down her face, but she didn't resist. Instead, she looked up at him with wide, submissive eyes, silently begging for more.

Kylian smirked, loving the power he had over her. He used his grip on her hair to guide her head, forcing her to take him deeper with each thrust. "That's it, take it all," he commanded, his voice rough with desire.

Giselle's eyes rolled back as Kylian's thick cock hit the back of her throat repeatedly. She felt like she was suffocating, but the pleasure of submitting to him outweighed any discomfort. Her pussy clenched, dripping with need.

Without warning, Kylian pulled her off his dick, leaving her gasping for air as she looked up at him from her place on the floor. Before she could register, he took hold of her wrist, pulling her to her feet.

“You’re so well-behaved,” he murmured, cupping her face in his hands. “Absolutely perfect.”

Kylian's words sent a shiver down Giselle's spine, his praise making her feel like the most desired woman in the world. She leaned into his touch, her heart racing with anticipation.

"You're the perfect muse," he continued, his voice low and husky. "I want to worship every inch of you."

With that, Kylian scooped Giselle up into his arms, carrying her bridal style towards his bedroom. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his chest as he walked. The feeling of his strong arms holding her was comforting, and she felt safe and cherished in his embrace.

Once in the bedroom, Kylian gently laid Giselle down on the plush comforter. He stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes raking over her body hungrily. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration.

Kylian crawled onto the bed, his movements graceful and predatory. He hovered over Giselle, his muscular body caging her in. Leaning down, he captured her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth possessively.

Giselle moaned into the kiss, her hands coming up to tangle in Kylian's hair. She arched her back, pressing her body flush against his. The feeling of his skin against hers was electric, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through her veins.

Kylian broke the kiss, trailing his lips down her neck and chest. He paused to suck a nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. Giselle gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair as waves of pleasure washed over her.

He lavished attention on her breasts, switching between them and driving her wild with desire. Meanwhile, his hand slid down her stomach, fingers brushing against her soaked thong.

Kylian's fingers hooked into the waistband of Giselle's thong, slowly pulling it down her legs. She lifted her hips to help him, her heart pounding in anticipation. Once the fabric was completely removed, Kylian tossed it aside, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of her bare pussy.

"So wet for me already," he murmured, his fingers brushing against her slick folds. Giselle shuddered, her hips bucking involuntarily at the contact. Kylian chuckled, the sound low and seductive. "Patience, ma chérie. I'm going to take my time with you tonight."

He settled between her legs, his breath hot against her core. Giselle's fingers clenched the sheets, her body tense with anticipation. When Kylian's tongue finally made contact with her sensitive flesh, she cried out, her back arching off the bed.

Kylian's tongue explored her intimately, lapping at her juices and circling her clit with expert precision. He groaned against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through Giselle's body. Her hands fisted in his hair, holding him in place as he ate her out like a man starved.

"Kylian!" Giselle cried out, her hips grinding against his face shamelessly. He responded by sucking her clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bundle of nerves. The pressure built inside her, coiling tighter and tighter until she thought she might explode.

Just as she was on the verge of climax, Kylian pulled back, leaving Giselle panting and frustrated. She glared down at him, her chest heaving. "Why did you stop?" she demanded, her voice breathy.

Kylian smirked up at her, his face glistening with her arousal.

"You're not ready yet," Kylian replied, his voice husky with desire. "Tell me your body is mine to do as I please with.”

Kylian's dominant tone sent a shiver down Giselle's spine, her body trembling with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She bit her lip, looking up at him with wide, submissive eyes. "Yes, Kylian," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "My body is yours to do as you please with. I trust you completely."

A slow, wicked grin spread across Kylian's face as he heard Giselle's words. He loved the way she submitted to him, the way she trusted him completely. It made him feel powerful and in control.

"Good girl," Kylian murmured, his hand trailing up her thigh possessively. "Turn over onto your stomach,” he instructed.

Giselle's heart raced as she complied with Kylian's command, turning over onto her stomach. She felt vulnerable and exposed, but also incredibly turned on. The cool sheets against her heated skin sent shivers down her spine as she waited for Kylian's next move.

Kylian admired the view, his eyes roaming over Giselle's curves appreciatively. He loved the way her ass looked in this position, round and perfect. Unable to resist, he reached out and gave it a firm squeeze, relishing in the way she gasped at his touch.

"Has anyone ever had the pleasure?" Kylian murmured, his voice low and husky as he used his fingers to spread her open, his breath warm against her flesh. She felt the pad of one of his fingers circle her second hole.

Kylian's lips trailed a path of gentle kisses along Giselle's spine, his other hand caressing her hip soothingly. He could feel her body slowly relaxing under his touch, and it filled him with a sense of pride and possession. He loved being the one to introduce her to new pleasures, to mark her as his in every way possible.

After a few moments, Kylian felt Giselle's body yield completely, her muscles softening and her breath evening out. He smiled against her skin, knowing that she was fully surrendered to him now. Slowly, he pressed his finger more firmly against her tight hole, feeling it resist before gradually giving way.

Giselle gasped softly as she felt Kylian's finger breach her, the sensation foreign and intense. She gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles turning white as she tried to relax and accept the intrusion.

Kylian's finger moved slowly, allowing Giselle's body to adjust to the new sensation. He crooned soothing words in French, his voice low and hypnotic, urging her to relax and trust him. As he felt her tighten around him, he paused, letting her get used to the feeling before continuing his gentle exploration.

"You're doing so well, ma chérie," Kylian praised, his other hand continuing to caress her hip and lower back. "Just breathe and let me in."

His finger moved deeper, and Giselle let out a shuddering breath, her body trembling slightly. Kylian could feel her heat, her arousal, and it only fueled his desire. He wanted to claim every inch of her, to make her his completely.

Slowly, he began to move his finger in and out, setting a gentle rhythm. Giselle's breathing hitched, and he felt her push back against him slightly, seeking more.

Kylian's finger moved deeper, and Giselle let out a shuddering breath, her body trembling slightly. Kylian could feel her heat, her arousal, and it only fueled his desire. He wanted to claim every inch of her, to make her his completely.

Slowly, he began to move his finger in and out, setting a gentle rhythm. Giselle's breathing hitched, and he felt her push back against him slightly, seeking more.

"That's it, ma chérie," Kylian murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Take what you need. You're so beautiful like this, so responsive."

He added a second finger, stretching her gently, preparing her for what was to come. Giselle gasped, her body tensing briefly before relaxing again, accepting the new intrusion.

Kylian's other hand slid around to her front, finding her clit and circling it slowly.

Giselle's hips jerked at the new sensation, a moan escaping her lips as Kylian's fingers worked in tandem, filling and pleasuring her. The dual stimulation was overwhelming, and she felt her body coil tighter, building towards something she had never experienced before.

"Yes," she gasped, her voice barely recognizable. "Please, Kylian, more."

Her plea was all the encouragement Kylian needed. He increased the pace of his fingers, plunging them deeper and faster, his thumb pressing firmly against her clit. Giselle's moans grew louder, her body writhing beneath him as the pleasure consumed her.

Suddenly, she stiffened, her back arching off the bed as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. Kylian felt her contract around his fingers, pulsing with her release. He continued to move, drawing out her pleasure until she collapsed back onto the bed, spent and trembling.

"That's my girl," Kylian murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction and pride. He slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips and tasting her essence. Giselle watched him through heavylidded eyes, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

Kylian smiled, his eyes dark with desire. "You taste incredible, ma chérie. Taste yourself,” he drawled as he turned Giselle over onto her back, leaning over her so he could press his lips against hers, his tongue slipping to her mouth.

Kylian's lips crashed against Giselle's, his tongue invading her mouth and sharing the taste of her own arousal. She moaned softly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back with equal fervor. The taste of herself on his tongue was intoxicating, and it only served to heighten her desire.

As they kissed, Kylian's hands roamed Giselle's body, caressing and squeezing her curves. He loved the way she felt beneath him, soft and pliant. His hard length pressed against her thigh, throbbing with need.

Giselle's hands wandered down Kylian's back, her nails digging into his skin as she pulled him closer. She could feel his arousal, hot and heavy against her leg, and it made her ache to have him inside her.

"Please," she whispered against his lips, her voice trembling with need. "I want you, Kylian. Take everything.”

Kylian's eyes flashed with a primal hunger as he heard Giselle's plea. He captured her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dominating hers as he positioned himself between her legs.

"I'm going to take you so hard," he growled against her mouth, his voice thick with desire. "I'm going to claim every inch of you, mark you as mine."

With that, he thrust his hips forward, burying himself deep inside her in one powerful stroke. Giselle cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as she was stretched and filled by his impressive length.

Kylian groaned, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of her tight pussy enveloping him. She felt incredible, like she was made just for him. He began to move, his hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm, fucking into her with a ferocity that left her breathless.

"Yes, Kylian!"

Kylian's eyes snapped open, his gaze locking with Giselle's as he continued his brutal pace. He loved the way she looked beneath him, her hair spread out on the pillow, her lips parted in ecstasy. She was a vision, and she was all his.

"You're mine," he snarled, his voice possessive and dominant. "Say it. Tell me who you belong to."

Giselle's mind was hazy with pleasure, her body overwhelmed by the intense sensations coursing through her. She could barely think straight, let alone form a coherent sentence. But the look in Kylian's eyes demanded an answer, and she knew she had to give it to him.

"Y… you," she gasped, her hips lifting to meet his thrusts. "I belong to you, Kylian. Only you."

Kylian's eyes flashed with a primal satisfaction at Giselle's words. He loved hearing her admit her devotion to him, it fueled his desire and possessiveness. His thrusts became more powerful, more dominating, as if he was trying to brand himself onto her very soul.

"That's right, ma chérie," he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're mine, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."

His hand snaked up to wrap around her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp. The gesture was dominance, a reminder of who was in control. Giselle's eyes widened, her pupils dilating with a mix of awe and excitement.

Kylian leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Give yourself to me."

Giselle's heart raced as Kylian's hand tightened around her throat, the pressure both thrilling and slightly frightening. She felt completely at his mercy, and the thought both terrified and exhilarated her.

"Yes," she gasped, her voice barely audible. "I'm yours, Kylian. Completely and utterly yours."

Kylian's eyes flashed with a primal hunger at Giselle's words. He tightened his grip on her throat, cutting off her air supply for a moment before releasing her. Giselle gulped in a breath, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

"That's my girl," Kylian murmured, his voice low and approving. "You're so perfect, so obedient."

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, dominating and possessive.

As Kylian kissed her, Giselle felt his hips slow their relentless pace, his movements becoming deeper and more deliberate. Each thrust seemed to hit a new spot inside her, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body.

Giselle wrapped her legs around Kylian's waist, urging him deeper. She could feel the tension building inside her, her body coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust. Kylian's hand slid between their bodies, his fingers finding her clit and circling it expertly.

"That's it, ma chérie," he murmured against her lips. "Cum on me. Let me feel you squeeze my cock."

His words, combined with the pressure on her clit, pushed Giselle over the edge. She cried out, her body convulsing as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. Kylian continued to thrust, drawing out her pleasure until she was a quivering mess beneath him.

Sitting back on his heels, Kylian held his pulsing length in his palm as he inspected his work, slowly working himself as his eyes traced over Giselle’s perfect body.

Letting out a moan, Giselle brought her fingers to her swollen clit, rubbing it in slow circles as she watched Kylian pleasuring himself, his eyes alight with lust and admiration.

“I’m going to cum,” Kylian growled as his brow furrowed and he reached for Giselle's breast, gripping it.

“Cum in my mouth,” Giselle whimpered, placing her hands on the back of Kylian's thighs, taking him between her lips.

Kylian's eyes widened in surprise and pleasure as Giselle took him into her mouth, her warm, wet heat enveloping him completely. He groaned, his hips jerking forward instinctively, burying himself deeper in her throat.

"Fuck, Giselle," he gasped, his fingers tangling in her hair. "Your mouth feels incredible."

Giselle hummed around his length, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. She began to move, her head bobbing up and down as she sucked him off with enthusiasm. Her hands gripped his thighs, her nails digging into his skin as she urged him closer to the edge.

Kylian's grip on her hair tightened, his hips pumping in rhythm with her movements. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as the pressure became unbearable.

"I'm going to cum," he warned, his voice strained. "Swallow every drop, ma chérie."

Giselle moaned in response, her eyes locking with Kylian's as she continued to suck him off. She could taste the precum leaking from his tip, and it only fueled her desire to make him cum.

Kylian's thrusts became more erratic, his breath coming in short gasps as he neared his climax. With a final groan, he buried himself deep in Giselle's throat and exploded, his hot seed shooting down her throat.

Giselle swallowed eagerly, milking him for every last drop. She loved the taste of him, the feeling of his cum sliding down her throat. It was a primal, possessive act that made her feel powerful and desired.

As Kylian's orgasm subsided, he slowly pulled out of Giselle's mouth, his length slipping from her lips with a soft pop. He looked down at her, his eyes heavy-lidded and satisfied.

"That was incredible," Kylian breathed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He reached for Giselle, pulling her into a passionate kiss. He could taste himself on her lips, and it only served to arouse him further.

Giselle melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around Kylian's neck. She pressed her body against his, feeling his stillhard length digging into her stomach. She knew he wasn't done with her yet, and the thought sent a thrill of excitement through her.

Kylian broke the kiss and scooped Giselle up into his arms, placing a hand on the small of her back, while using the other to line himself up a the swollen entrance, their gazed locked as he leaned into Giselle pushing his cock back inside of her.

“All mine,” he breathed out roughly, before his lips were back on Giselle’s, claiming her yet again.

[ilikekidsshows]

As a huge Adrien fan who was horrified and disgusted by what the show has done to him (especially the season 5 finale) I am so grateful to have found your blog! I hope you don’t mind but I would like to vent my feelings a little to someone who understands.

As an abuse victim with a controlling father I connected with Adrien from the beginning and I was so excited to see his story play out. I thought it could be another Zuko type of character arc where he slowly overtime comes to realize he is being abused and that the way his dad has treated him is wrong and eventually stand up to him and break free of his dad’s abuse and control. I was eagerly watching and waiting what I thought would be such an amazing journey ahead of Adrien. I loved seeing him finally able to attend public school and getting a chance for freedom through his miraculous and being able to make real friends. I thought all of this would help him slowly build up that support system to help him continue to take more control of his life. I couldn’t wait to see Adrien slowly start to heal and gain a found family with people like Nino Alya and even Ladybug as Chat Noir (these were the early days when I genuinely thought they were a team). The episode where all of Adrien’s guy friends threw him a party was so much fun and I was happy to see he had made so many friends who had his back.

In that one episode (can’t recall the name right now) where Luka was making instruments and seeing Adrien a bit aimless and unsure of his future I remember thinking it will be so wonderful to watch him come to figure out who he is and what he wants to with his life outside of his father’s expectations. To see him forge his own identity (something he’d already begun doing as Chat Noir). I went through my own journey of discovering who I am and who I want to be after breaking free of my dad’s abuse. It’s beautiful and empowering and I couldn’t wait to see Adrien go through something similar.

I was a little worried by episodes like Chat Blanc and Ephemeral that showed futures where Adrien learned his dad was Hawk Moth and fell under his control due to his emotions spiraling out of control. It was completely understandable given such a situation and revelation. But I figured the reveal will just need to happen in a way that gives Adrien time to process and work through it before he goes to confront his dad as Hawk Moth and defeat him with Ladybug.

But then he quickly started losing his support system and friends. Things were never quite the same between him and Nino after Rocketear. Chloe became too awful and he had no choice but to cut ties. Ladybug completely disregarded his feelings and never listened to him and he was forced to be HER support system and keep his feelings and problems to himself.

I didn’t understand why this was happening. I stayed in deep denial about senti-Adrien right up until the finale because I just couldn’t fathom them actually doing something so completely horrific especially to one of the leads of the show. I didn’t understand why suddenly everything was regressing and becoming worse for Adrien. He lost his support system and friends. His dad became even more abusive and controlling than ever before in season 5 and then the finale happened.

I truly felt physically sick to my stomach by everything that happened in the finale. It was such a slap in the face to me as an abuse victim. Seeing Adrien trapped in that room. Watching him completely stripped of all autonomy and not allowed to take part in the final battle. And then he never even got to know the truth about his dad and was made to believe his abuser was a hero who he should aspire to be like. He never learned he was a sentimonster never allowed to have any control over his life. He also decided he didn’t need to figure out what he wants to do with his life or who he is because all that matters to him is loving Marinette. It was awful. A living nightmare! The absolute worst show finale I have ever seen in my life. It was all a lie. Adrien was never going to get any kind of character arc or growth. Never get to confront his abusive dad, never get to be anything but Marinette’s satellite love interest. No goals or dreams of his own. And made into a sentimonster (I firmly believe that whole thing is a retcon he wasn’t a sentimonster in the beginning) stripping him of any agency or autonomy. Lied to by the person who is supposed to love him but instead treats him terribly. Forced to see his abuser as a hero.

I am sick, horrified, and devastated by what the show has done to Adrien. I saw so much of myself in him and he got the worst possible “happy” ending. Handed from one controlling abuser to the next with no hope of ever breaking free or even realizing that he needs to. The writers have given the biggest f you to all the abuse victims out there with such an abysmal heartbreaking ending.

---

This blog is a free-to-vent zone, so go ahead.

It really is cruel how much more sympathy Miraculous directs at the abusers in its narrative than the victims. We get to learn all the reasons the abusers have for what they do, how they feel about everything, how they truly do care so the abuse shouldn't matter and they are the ones who get, not just forgiven, but vindicated, proven to be correct in a way that they don't need forgiveness. Right as Adrien is finally ready to say his father's treatment of him is wrong, has always been wrong, our hero shuts him down, tells him he is wrong for being so ungrateful for being angry at the man who saved her and the world.

Like, sure, it's a lie and Marinette feels really bad about it throughout the London Special, but it's not like that lie is ever going to be properly unpacked in the story. Even if Adrien learns the truth, the pieces have already been laid out so that he will instantly forgive Marinette, that he will understand her totally selfless reasoning and vindicate her. Abusers and abuse apologists get all the sympathy and vindication, and it's granted to them by the abuse victims of the story, whose feelings are always treated as secondary to what the people who harm them are thinking and feeling.

Even Emil’s introduction serves to further vindicate Gabriel. These two supposedly unrelated men are carbon copies of each other in looks and mannerisms, and the reason for this is to further enforce the idea of them as loving family men who just have difficulty with expressing their care and that means we should view them as victims of circumstance and celebrate the bare minimum they manage of not always being abusive. There's a difference between acknowledging that abusers are people and not always abusing their victims and celebrating abusers for these facts, and Miraculous does the latter with its constant insistence that people like Gabriel should be remembered for the good they did while the bad they did gets almost completely ignored.

Many people defending Miraculous say this isn't glorifying abuse, that it's just “letting them off too easily”, which just begs the question: how much further would a kids’ show need to go with its blatant abuse apologia to qualify as “glorifying” by this standard? Do we need a character to say: “man, it sure is good Gabriel abused Adrien into submission so that Marinette can enjoy a perfect, subservient boyfriend!” Because, like, no one might say that, but it's very much the implied takeaway.

[drinkyourvillainjuice]

Hi author!! First up, I haven't checked in on this IF in a while and coming back to find updates was such a treat omg,,,genuinely so obsessed with this game and the story and the characters. Cradling them so softly in my hands!!!

I do have an odd question though - was Dion removed as an RO? I could've sworn he was when I first found your story, but can't find him listed as one. Not sure if I'm having a weird mandela effect moment or if I missed something ;; regardless I love and cherish what you've chosen to share with us (and look forward to more pain in the future!) <333

aah thank you! Happy to be of service!

Dion hasn't ever been a RO, so you may be misremembering times I've talked about him or answered other questions regarding his status. (people have definitely expressed interest a few times!) I did at one point mention he's ace, but alloromantic.

If Villain Juice does end up being a duology (y'know assuming it is feasible for me BLEGH financials in my writing blog BLEGH), I'd consider adding a RO or two and Dion is v. high on the list.

[whatwooshkai]

I love transformers. I genuinely don’t think there’s a single character I can’t find enjoyment in except for armada sideswipe. I hate him and I cannot explain why

[cloudbends]

watched 3 eps of heartcatch precure...!!

[nonsensechemicals]

crying whenever i talk about Cookie9 because all my friends have these interesting and unique theories on them while i take everything too literally and they all just stare at me like “dude… uuugh we r TIRED” <-they dont actually say this they are very kind to me but i can Feel It

[amelikos]

Friede, Amethio and Zeiyu..

[jessicas-pi]

it's actually, genuinely, honestly hilarious that in a fandom where popular ships include characters who are biologically related, characters with a 10+ year age gap who met when one was a teenager or even a child, and characters who have tried to kill each other, people hate on a friends-to-lovers ship with a <2 year age gap where the characters have a deep emotional bond and plenty of romantic subtext, because "they're siblings". my brother in the force they are literally not.

[musical-chick-13]

Regarding the previous post, I think the way I approach trying to evaluate a piece of art is asking "Do I think the positive things I get out of it outweigh the parts of it that I don't like?" And when I call something a "guilty pleasure" song/show/book/piece of media/etc. it's really more in the sense of, "Given who I am as a person, the flaws I've found in this should be complete dealbreakers for me, but somehow they aren't, and it makes me feel like I'm having an identity crisis."

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Do you ever read a post where someone is explaining a pokitical thing and from the way they're saying you know with absolute certainty 1) they got their info from a tumblr post and have never actually followed up on how feasible that information actually is to act upon (they may not even have checked if it was CORRECT, but when they do they have clearly not looked into how easy or hard it may be to follow those instructions with a positive outcome), and 2) you know WHICH tumblr post they're quoting because it is basically a copy/paste of it, and 3) it was YOUR goddamn post and the thing they are saying is entirely counter to the point you were making when you said it to the point that you genuinely wonder if they just like. Memory-holed the entire context once they saw that one itty bitty point.

It's like the motherfuckiny dating apps all over again. I do not want people to love my words if they are not actually willing to do the work of understanding them! Didn't your kindergarten ever make you play Telephone to teach you how heresay falls out????

[13eyond13]

.

[sunniestshark-ocs]

Join her in meditation, or antagonize her into a match? The choice is yours

[pyrriax]

hey guys im back at it again with the horrible levels of s4 zam brainrot. um.

did i manage to somehow make this song about him in my head? yes! yes i did. and i cannot be normal about it.